John had no plans to let the remaining two soldiers escape. This was their territory, and if they managed to get away and return with reinforcements, he would be as good as dead.
Determined, John adjusted his position slightly, peering through the cover of rocks and tall grass. The remaining two soldiers were now crawling away, trying to retreat to safety.
John knelt behind a rock, braced the rifle against his shoulder, and aimed at one of the retreating figures. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.
The gunshot rang out, and once again, blood sprayed into the air. The soldier he aimed at collapsed instantly.
The other soldier, realizing he wasn't the target, completely broke down. Panicked and screaming, he stood up and started running in the opposite direction.
To John's relief, the man was running straight away from him—an easy target. A fleeing figure with his back turned was as good as a stationary one.
Taking a deep breath, John steadied his aim and fired again.
Another gunshot echoed, and the man dropped to the ground.
John exhaled deeply and collapsed onto the grass. Exhaustion washed over him, his body limp and trembling.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice echoed in his mind.
"Binding host... Mercenary System loading: 1%... 10%... 100%. Mercenary System successfully loaded."
John's eyes shot open, and his exhaustion was momentarily forgotten.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered, sitting upright. "Is someone there?"
The voice spoke again, this time more clearly.
"Congratulations, Host. You are now the first user of the Mercenary System. Scanning host attributes. Please wait patiently."
John froze, his eyes darting around the empty field. There wasn't a soul nearby.
"Who's speaking? Where are you?" His voice was tense, his body on high alert.
"I am the AI assistant for the Mercenary System. You may call me 'Assistant,'" the voice replied, its tone robotic and devoid of emotion.
John rubbed his temples. "Alright, Assistant, can you explain what this system is? And why the hell is it in my head?"
"The Mercenary System is a program designed to help you become the world's strongest mercenary. As for why you were chosen, the system selects its host at random. I am not authorized to control or alter the selection process."
The Assistant's flat, matter-of-fact tone made John uneasy.
"Look, Assistant," John said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I don't want to be a mercenary. I've got no interest in risking my life for money or whatever this system wants."
Mercenaries. The word itself conjured images of professional soldiers hired to fight wars. From the legendary Greek mercenaries who fought for the Persian prince Cyrus to the modern French Foreign Legion, mercenaries had always been a part of history. But in today's world, mercenaries often worked for private military companies—profiteers of war with notoriously high mortality rates.
The last thing John wanted was to join their ranks.
"I'm sorry," the Assistant replied, its tone unchanging. "The system is already bound to you. Forcefully removing it would risk severe damage to your consciousness."
John's frustration grew, but the Assistant continued, unperturbed.
"Additionally, based on your current situation, your survival chances without the system are effectively zero."
The words sent a chill down John's spine. As much as he hated the idea of being stuck with the system, the reality of his circumstances was undeniable. He was stranded, unarmed moments ago, and surrounded by danger.
He let out a deep sigh. "Fine. What do I have to do?"
"The system will guide you. Your survival is the first priority."
John didn't know whether to laugh or cry. His life had already turned upside down, and now, with this system in his head, it seemed like it wasn't going to get any simpler.