The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire-Chapter 250: Life and death!!!

Flashback

The Provincial Army Base roared with life.

Dust rose into the air as squads of soldiers sprinted across open ground, their boots striking the earth in perfect rhythm. The sharp crack of gunfire echoed from the shooting range, where lines of men practiced precision under the watchful eyes of their commanders. Metal clashed against metal near the training yard as others engaged in close combat drills, their movements fast, aggressive, and relentless.

Every corner of the base carried intensity.

Discipline.

And the weight of preparation for something far beyond ordinary missions.

Through this storm of activity, General Wilfred Wraithebourne walked forward with steady steps, his presence commanding respect without the need for words. Soldiers who noticed him immediately straightened and saluted, their voices firm and unified.

"Good morning, General."

Behind him walked a teenage boy.

Quiet.

Unbothered.

Completely out of place in an environment built for hardened soldiers.

Eyes followed them.

Whispers began

"Is he his son?"

"Why would the General bring a kid here?"

"That does not make sense…"

The boy walked without reacting, his gaze calm, observing everything yet revealing nothing

Wilfred did not slow down.

He led him straight toward a group already assembled at the far end of the ground. A special forces unit stood in formation, their gear prepared, their expressions serious. These were not ordinary soldiers. These were men trained for covert operations, missions where mistakes were not forgiven.

As Wilfred approached, a loud unified thud echoed as they saluted.

"At ease, my soldiers."

The formation relaxed, but their attention remained fixed.

Wilfred's voice carried clearly.

"From now on, we will only use our designations or codenames."

He walked slowly in front of them, his hands behind his back.

"No one will say their real name until the mission is complete."

His eyes scanned the group.

"Do you understand?"

A strong response came.

"Yes, sir."

Wilfred's expression remained unchanged.

"Louder."

The soldiers raised their voices, the sound echoing across the ground

"We understand, sir!"

At the back of the formation, a few soldiers exchanged quiet words.

"Why are we doing that?"

"It always happens when a mercenary joins."

"So you think that kid is from some mercenary group?"

"What? Him? No way."

Their whispers barely lasted a moment.

A senior officer at the front turned sharply.

"Quiet!"

Silence returned instantly.

Wilfred allowed a faint smirk to appear.

Then he turned slightly.

"Come forward, young man."

The teenage boy stepped ahead, moving calmly, his presence now fully exposed to the entire unit.

Wilfred gestured toward a man standing at the front.

"Meet him. He is the Major."

The Major stood tall, a man in his early thirties, his physique built through years of combat and discipline. His face carried a hardened edge, someone who had seen enough battles to understand the cost of every decision. His sharp eyes studied the boy carefully, confusion flickering within them.

He did not understand.

Not yet.

The boy extended his hand.

"Hello, Major."

The Major hesitated for the briefest moment before shaking it.

The moment their hands met, something felt… off.

There was no hesitation.

No nervousness.

No sign of inexperience.

Instead, there was a quiet steadiness.

A presence far beyond his age.

The Major's grip tightened slightly as realization began to creep in.

This was not an ordinary teenager.

Wilfred stepped forward again, addressing the entire unit.

"You already know about the mission we are about to undertake."

His tone grew heavier.

"And this time… we have a friend joining us."

He paused briefly, letting the words settle.

"For decades, Graveyard has supported the Provincial Army in covert operations."

The soldiers listened closely now.

"They are not just trained."

Wilfred's gaze sharpened.

"They are forged."

"Since childhood, they are conditioned to survive, to adapt, to think faster than anyone else in the field."

His voice carried both respect and warning.

"They are intelligent, precise, and lethal."

He turned toward the boy.

"Meet this young man."

A faint smile appeared.

"And do not be fooled by his age."

The air grew still.

"He is the one who has been giving chills to the underworld."

A beat passed.

"Meet Ghost… from the Graveyard."

The formation broke into murmurs despite their discipline.

"What?"

"He is just a kid…"

"He is Ghost?"

"What has he gone through to become like that…"

Even the Major's expression shifted, disbelief mixing with curiosity.

"Graveyard…"

He looked at the boy again.

"What did they make this kid into…"

Ghost stood there, unmoved by the reactions.

His face remained calm.

Cold.

Innocent

Yet his eyes carried a depth that did not belong to someone his age.

He stepped forward slightly, addressing the unit.

"Hello everyone."

His voice was steady, clear.

"I am Ghost."

No hesitation.

No introduction beyond that.

"I will be responsible for clearing your frontline during this mission."

A few soldiers exchanged glances.

"I will make sure no one gets hit."

His words were simple, but the confidence behind them made them heavier.

"You focus on your objective. That is what matters."

He looked across the group.

"I will handle the threats."

The room remained silent now.

"I already know all your codenames."

A faint shift in expressions.

"So do not worry about coordination."

Wilfred nodded slightly, satisfied.

"There is a unique sign language used by this unit."

He gestured toward the Major.

"He will brief you."

Ghost inclined his head slightly.

"I copy that, General."

Then he added calmly,

"I will also need my equipment back."

Wilfred frowned.

"What equipment?"

Ghost's eyes shifted slightly.

"The ones that were taken from me at the gate."

For a second, Wilfred froze.

Then his expression hardened instantly.

"What?"

His voice rose sharply.

"Who took his equipment?"

The surrounding soldiers stiffened.

Wilfred turned toward the patrol unit stationed nearby and shouted.

"Who was on gate duty?"

The tension in the air spiked instantly.

Behind him, Ghost stood quietly.

A faint smirk appeared on his lips.

...

Present

Juniper's eyes lingered on the notebook for a moment longer than necessary.

Then slowly… she lifted her gaze toward Miles.

There was something in her expression.

Curiosity.

Hope.

And a quiet fear of what she had just read.

Her fingers tightened slightly over the edge of the page as she lowered her eyes again.

"My dearest… daughter Juniper…"

The words were written in a careful, familiar tone.

Her breath trembled.

Miles did not speak.

Instead, he raised his hand gently and began to move his fingers with calm precision.

A language she understood.

A language that belonged to her world.

"I know it is too late…"

Juniper's eyes widened slightly.

"But if you are reading this… it means I am no longer with you."

Her lips parted faintly.

Her gaze locked onto his hands, following every movement.

"My dearest…"

Miles continued, his expression steady, respectful, as if he was carrying something sacred.

"Happy birthday to you."

"Today you turn twenty… and I am so happy for you."

Her vision blurred.

Tears gathered instantly, trembling at the edge of her eyes.

"Your mother left this world too early… and now me too."

Her hands slowly curled into fists.

"I am sorry, dear."

"I wish you a happy life ahead."

"Complete your studies."

"Fulfill your dreams."

The tears fell.

One after another.

Unstoppable.

"We will always root for you… from the sky."

Juniper's shoulders trembled.

"Do not think you are alone."

"My country… my comrades… my friends…"

"They will always be there for you."

Miles' hands slowed, his movements softer now.

"Take care of yourself."

"Eat on time."

A final pause.

"Goodbye, dear."

"Your father."

The silence that followed felt heavier than anything else.

Juniper's tears streamed freely down her face, her chest rising and falling unevenly as the message settled deep within her heart.

Miles lowered his hands slowly.

Before he could step back, Juniper suddenly stood up and moved toward him.

Without hesitation, she pressed her face against his chest, holding onto him tightly.

As if afraid to let go.

As if holding onto the last piece of her father that still remained.

Miles froze for a brief moment.

Then gently placed his hand over her head.

Patting softly.

Not saying anything.

Because nothing needed to be said.

After a while, he carefully reached out and closed her books on the table, giving her the space to feel everything without interruption.

Juniper slowly pulled back, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

Her eyes met his again.

Grateful.

Broken.

Yet somehow stronger.

She signed slowly.

"Thank you… for bringing this message to me."

Miles smiled gently.

There was no pride in it.

Only understanding.

Juniper Walsh.

A girl who lost her hearing at eleven after an accident.

A girl who had already faced more than most people her age.

Her father, Major Walsh, had served in the Provincial Army with honor until his last mission a month ago.

He had been given a respectful farewell.

The government had ensured her education would continue.

Soldiers.

Officers.

People from the army had visited her, checked on her, offered support.

But today…

Miles brought something none of them could.

A message.

A final voice from her father.

A birthday wish that crossed the boundary between life and death.

Miles picked up the notebook again and wrote something quickly.

He turned it toward her.

"Let's go. I have something for you."

Juniper looked at the words.

A small smile appeared through her tears.

She nodded.

"Let's go."

They stepped out of the library together.

The librarian looked up from her desk, her eyes softening at the sight of Juniper.

Miles returned the notebook and pen.

"It is her birthday today."

He spoke calmly.

"We are going to celebrate."

The woman's face lit up.

"Really?"

She stepped forward and gently held Juniper's hands.

Her lips moved slowly so Juniper could read.

"Happy birthday, dear."

Juniper smiled warmly and nodded in thanks.

They stepped outside.

A small crowd had gathered around the sleek sports car parked at the entrance.

Students whispered among themselves, drawn by the rarity of such a car in that quiet area.

Juniper looked at it with curiosity, her eyes reflecting a hint of excitement.

Miles pressed the key.

The car responded instantly with a sharp sound, lights flashing.

The crowd instinctively stepped back, clearing the way.

Miles walked around and opened the passenger door for her.

Juniper looked at him for a second, surprised.

Then at the car.

A quiet excitement filled her expression.

She had never experienced something like this before.

Carefully, she stepped in and sat down, her eyes exploring every detail of the interior.

Miles closed the door and moved to the driver's side.

The engine roared to life.

Smooth.

Powerful.

Controlled.

The car moved forward, gliding out onto the road, leaving t

he small crowd behind.

The students watched as it disappeared into the street.

Whispers followed.

"Was not that Juniper?"

"Yeah… that was her."

"Who was that guy… he looked so handsome."

A voice spoke with sudden realization.

"Wait… I know him."

Others turned.

"He graduated this year from our university."

"Really?"

"Yeah… I saw his picture on the college board."

The murmurs continued as the car vanished from sight.

And inside that car…

For the first time in a long while…

Juniper smiled without tears.