Foster father

09

Carter Vaughn's original plan for the child's living arrangements was as simple as something for a dog—just throw a blanket on the floor. But ever since he discovered that the boy could naturally repel mosquitoes, Carter started placing him beside himself every night when he slept, and since then, he hadn't been bothered by mosquitoes at night.

The difference now was that the child no longer climbed onto him before sleep. Occasionally, he would curl up next to him when half asleep.

Oliver's hellish life truly began after Carter Vaughn's injury healed.

The valley they were in had become the perfect battlefield, and Carter started training the five-year-old boy using the same methods he applied to training new recruits—without mercy.

Every day, aside from overloading his physical training, the child had to learn a variety of skills, such as combat techniques, the use of firearms, knowledge of ammunition, the human body's meridian and skeletal systems, botany and zoology, as well as various combat tactics. In short, Carter Vaughn spared no effort in teaching him how to kill enemies.

In addition to that, the boy was required to memorize two hundred English words every day. If he didn't complete the task, he wouldn't get to eat.

Carter discovered that the boy was exceptionally intelligent. Within two weeks, he could carry on basic conversations with him in English, and under Carter's intense pressure, his vocabulary skyrocketed, allowing him to communicate with the people around him.

A month later, Carter delegated the task of educating him to several others. These mercenaries had nothing to do while waiting for their next orders and began helping Carter train the boy.

Among these "teachers," only Job and Pell were somewhat gentler. Although Job always used disgusting insects for lessons, and Pell forced the boy to watch the dissection of a corpse, at least they didn’t withhold food from him if he didn’t complete his tasks—though after their lessons, the boy had no appetite to eat.

Among all the people, only the boss, Ael, and the man named Jim had no direct interaction with Oliver. Ael, aside from Carter, was the only one who spoke Chinese. However, Ael had no interest in the boy. Every time Ael passed by him, Oliver felt as if Ael didn’t even notice him because of his short stature. As for Jim, whenever he got close, Carter's face would contort into a hideous expression, showing clear murderous intent, like a mother hen protecting her chick.

The boy cried less and less from exhaustion and grievance. When he realized tears were useless, he figured it was better to conserve his body’s water to avoid Carter’s sudden whim of putting him through starvation training.

Every day, when he woke up, what awaited him was high-intensity physical training, countless strange subjects, and Carter Vaughn treating him like a servant, casually commanding him. He fought every day for food and more rest time.

After spending more than two months at the temporary base, one day, Ael suddenly called everyone to gather.

The boy saw the adults enter the main tent for what seemed like a meeting. Finally, he had a chance to catch his breath and secretly sneaked into the kitchen for a hearty meal.

He wasn’t wrong in his guess. Ael had indeed called them together for a meeting.

The employer finally had news. After keeping them idle for three months, the employer received a large order from Mexican drug dealers. This task required them to transport two hundred pounds of methamphetamine to the western part of Myanmar and the border of Bangladesh. Once over the border, the Mexicans would take over the goods, and their mission would be complete.

Bangladesh was poor and backward, with rampant criminal activity. Every year, large amounts of drugs and contraband were shipped out from there via sea routes to destinations worldwide.

The transport itself wasn’t a problem, as they had ways of avoiding government forces, but this deal involved a vicious feud between the Golden Triangle drug lords, making this mission incredibly dangerous. To take over the Mexican client from another drug dealer, the employer had used extremely underhanded methods, and this trip was bound to be met with retaliation.

A few months ago, they lost three men in a previous mission for this employer. Afterward, Ael had considered pulling out. Losing three men was a major blow, especially when their mercenary group only had about fifty members.

The number of members in a mercenary group usually affected its reputation. However, there were a few mercenary organizations internationally that sought quality over quantity and had extremely high reputations. Ael's group was one of them. While larger mercenary groups with hundreds of members had a different client base, quality-based groups like theirs were usually involved in missions with more complexity and prestige. Thus, numbers didn’t equate to strength. But for a small, elite group, losing even a few men was a significant loss.

The employer raised the price and sent them advanced equipment when they threatened to leave. When Ael saw a box of AK-47s and Desert Eagles, he relented.

During the meeting, Ael and the core members of the team studied the map and discussed the mission plan. The section with roads posed almost no risk of ambush, but closer to the border, there was a mountain range spanning about thirty kilometers, sparsely populated. The vehicles could only travel on dirt roads, and if it rained heavily, the vehicles might not be able to pass, necessitating a trek through the forest. If the enemies planned an attack, this would be the best spot.

After the highway section, their plan was to split into three groups, each traveling in an equilateral triangular formation, no more than three kilometers apart, each carrying an equal amount of meth. If one group came under attack, the other two could appear within five minutes to provide assistance and counterattack.

Once the goods reached the border, the mission would be complete, and they would head back to base, so they wouldn’t need to return after leaving this place.

Once the meeting was over, Ael kept Carter Vaughn behind.

Carter, puffing on a cigarette, traced the map with his finger. "I know what you’re going to say: It’s inconvenient to bring the kid, right?"

"Of course, we’re about to execute a mission, not his running training. No one has the energy to babysit him."

"Let him stay with Pell. Don’t worry, when needed, I’ll look after him. I won’t let him hold anyone back."

Ael shook his head. "If he survives and makes it back to headquarters, I’ll officially grant him mercenary status."

Carter chuckled. "Then he’ll be the youngest mercenary in history."

Ael grinned. "Yeah, beating your record. Eight years old."

Carter exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes slightly lost in memory. "Eight… I was about that age when my father adopted me. But by that time, I had already killed someone."

Ael ruffled his hair. "That’s your fate, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing."

Carter blinked, then laughed loudly. "Of course, it’s a good thing. I’m glad I killed that bastard."

Ael smiled warmly at him.

When Carter returned to his tent, the boy was sound asleep, his little round belly exposed as he snored softly.

Their mission meeting had effectively given the boy half a day off. There was no better time to eat and sleep than now.

The boy’s little chubby legs hung off the edge of the bed, his hand still resting on his stomach as he slept soundly.

Carter walked over, crouched by the bed, and looked at him with interest.

Though he hadn’t seen many little boys, Oliver was undeniably beautiful. His features were delicate like a doll’s, with big eyes almost taking up half his face, fair and smooth skin, and black, soft hair. No wonder Jim always looked at him like a starving man when he saw the child.

Thinking of Jim’s intentions toward the boy, Carter felt disgusted. Though he had always known about Jim’s vile nature, he had never witnessed it firsthand. Plus, their mercenary group had strict rules, and though he despised Jim, he had never openly confronted him. But now, just thinking about Jim’s gaze on Oliver made Carter seriously consider eliminating Jim subtly during the operation.

Carter could not tolerate the way Jim looked at the boy. If Jim dared to touch him, Carter would castrate him on the spot.

Thinking about leaving this place tomorrow and embarking on their dangerous journey, Carter, surprisingly, decided to let the boy sleep well.

He lifted the boy's little legs and placed them back on the bed, then climbed in beside him.

In the middle of the night, Carter felt someone outside the tent. He instantly opened his eyes.

The next second, Pell's voice, deliberately lowered, came from outside the tent. "Vaughn, are you asleep?"

Carter glanced over the child, then softly replied, "Coming."

The boy stirred a little but didn’t wake up.

Carter walked out of the tent to see Pell standing in front of him in a thin silk nightdress, her ample chest faintly visible as she moved.

Carter got the hint and wrapped his arm around her waist, whispering, "Baby, can’t sleep?"

Pell clung to his shoulder, her voice soft. "Tomorrow we leave here, and you’ve been back for over two months, but we haven’t had any time alone. All your time has been spent with the other beauty in your bed."

Carter smiled. "I sleep especially well with him. You know, he drives away mosquitoes."

Pell lightly kissed his lips. "I don’t believe that…" She pressed her body against Carter’s. "I miss you."

Carter slid his hand under her nightdress, feeling her smooth skin. "You could go to Ael."

Pell chuckled softly. "Ael is Ael, but you’re you. The pleasure you give me is different."

Carter pressed her down onto the grass, his breathing becoming heavy. "How is it different?"

"Show me, and you’ll know..."

Oliver had been woken up by the strange noises. When he noticed that Carter was no longer in the tent, he felt a bit uneasy. He jumped out of bed, wanting to see if Carter was outside. The closer he got to the tent's entrance, the louder and clearer the strange sounds became, as if someone was panting heavily. He cautiously pulled back a small section of the tent flap and saw Carter on top of Pell outside on the grass. Both of them were naked, kissing fiercely, their bodies tangled together.

The boy's eyes widened. Though he didn't fully understand what they were doing, he still felt an inexplicable sense of shame. His eyes were glued to Carter Vaughn's long legs and the slender but strong waist that was moving rhythmically.

He was too young to have a clear concept of beauty, but even so, he felt that Carter Vaughn’s body was incredibly beautiful. Those long, powerful limbs, the smooth and firm muscles—all of them exuded a vibrant life force and an indescribable aesthetic.

Oliver's heartbeat quickened. He knew he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, something shameful, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his adoptive father's body. He only thought it looked beautiful, and he was curious about what they were doing.

Carter Vaughn’s sweat-slicked, handsome face left an unforgettable impression in the boy’s mind.