Zero: God Of Mercenary

Oliver looked a bit rough around the edges.

He was wearing a tank top soaked with sweat, his sunburned skin and solid muscles on display.

Over his shoulders, he balanced two heavy crates filled with fish, easily over 300 pounds between them. Yet, he moved with an effortless stride.

Out of nowhere, a rock flew through the air, landing right by his foot and causing him to pause.

It had to be those lazy coworkers of his, who always dumped the hardest jobs on him.

Before he could spot the culprit, the market boss, Anthony, roared out from across the way.

“Oliver! You think I pay you to slack off during work hours?”

Yep, Oliver couldn’t even deserver a minute to catch his breath. To Anthony, he was no more than a workhorse.

And it wasn’t just Anthony—everyone in town saw him the same way.

For two reasons: First, he was an outsider.

Second, the real kicker, he’d married the town’s richest beauty, Trisha Henverton.

She wasn’t from some grand family, but around here, she was still a step above the rest.

A newcomer waltzing in and marrying the town’s finest was bound to draw some envy.

“Hurry up! If those deliveries aren’t on time, I’ll have your head!”

Anthony’s yelling continued, and Oliver let out a sigh.

“If you really want things done faster, maybe have the guys standing around all morning help carry a few crates?”

“You telling your boss how to do his job?”

Anthony’s gaze was cold, but Oliver didn’t back down.

“Just stating facts,” Oliver replied plainly.

He had no interest in wasting time on those pointless arguments.

Anthony let out a bitter laugh, stepping closer with a sneer. He jabbed Oliver’s shoulder with a stick in his hand.

“You think being Trisha's husband makes you something special? Everyone in town knows she’s got herself a rich man on the side.”

That made Oliver stop cold.

He could tolerate insults against himself, but no one disrespected his wife.

He glared at Anthony.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Anthony laughed louder, like he’d heard the funniest joke.

“What, you like facts, right? Fact is, every guy in town’s seen your wife’s backside.”

Anthony thrusted his hips forward for effect.

“She was right beneath me, begging, ‘More, more, mo—’”

BAM!

Before he could finish, Oliver’s fist met Anthony’s face, knocking him to the ground.

“Shut your filthy mouth,” Oliver said coldly.

“Fuck!” Anthony spat out some blood, his shock quickly turning to pure rage.

“Fifty bucks to anyone who knocks him down!”

At Anthony’s command, the idlers who had been watching Oliver work all morning rose to their feet.

A few grabbed whatever tools were nearby, cracking their knuckles as they approached Oliver with smug grins.

Oliver clenched his fists, ready for a fight—

BANG!

A gunshot rang out, and a bullet struck the ground near one man’s feet, kicking up a small cloud of dirt.

The man jumped back with a yell.

Everyone froze in shock.

“What the hell was that?”

They all looked around, searching for the source of the shot.

Stepping into view was a woman with a fierce look and an air of mystery.

She wore a tight dress that hugged her figure, showing off her long legs and deep neckline.

In her hand, she held a gun, pointing it directly at them.

The woman’s sharp gaze swept the room, and settled on Oliver.

“Easy, gentlemen. I don't like fighting." 

Everyone froze, barely daring to breathe, afraid the next bullet might land on them.

Oliver narrowed his eyes, his muscles tensing as he took in her unexpected arrival.

The woman didn't ask any question, but she seemed to get an answer that what was going on here.

"You all have no idea who he is, do you?"

She asked, a small, unexpected smile forming on her face. Then She cleared her throat, raised her voice:

"I’m here for Oliver. Just leave him alone, you all will get these."

Lowering her gun, she slid it back into her holster, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash.

She tossed the stack of hundred-dollar bills onto the table.

Next second, everyone's attention shifted.

"What the fuck? How many thousands are those?!"

When they rushed forward, scrambling for the money scattered on the table, she turned to Oliver.

But he spoke first.

"Who are you?" He frowned, asking.

To his surprise, the gorgeous woman bowed in front of him.

“Oliver, we’ve been looking for you for a long time.”