As I walked out of the warehouse, the reality of my situation hit me. I was a mercenary, a soldier trained to fight and kill. I had no skills or knowledge other than those I had acquired during my time as a child soldier. What was I going to do with my life now that I was free?

I thought about my options and came to the conclusion that I needed to continue doing what I was trained for. I had to fight to survive, and that meant I needed to find a place where I could put my skills to use.

That's when I remembered the PMC, a private military company that operated in the area. I had heard about it from some of the other soldiers in the camp. They said that the PMC was always looking for recruits, and that they paid well.

I made my way to the PMC's headquarters, my heart pounding in my chest. I was nervous, but I was also determined. I was going to prove to myself and to everyone else that I was capable of something more than just being a child soldier.

I was met at the door by a gruff-looking man who introduced himself as the recruiting officer. He asked me why I was there, and I told him about my past and my skills as a mercenary.

To my surprise, he was impressed by my experience and my determination. He told me that they were looking for soldiers just like me, and that he would be happy to have me join the PMC. "Welcome aboard, soldier," he said with a smile. "Report to the front desk and they'll get you settled in."

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As I entered the private military company headquarters, I couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement. I was finally going to have a chance to put my combat training to use, to have a purpose in life other than being a hired gun for whoever would pay me.

I walked up to the front desk and introduced myself, "Hi, my name is Ghost. I just joined up as a recruit."

The receptionist gave me a once-over before nodding and directing me to a conference room. "Your team will meet you there," she said.

I made my way to the conference room and was surprised to see a group of four people already seated and waiting for me. One of them, a tall man with a stern expression, stood up and approached me.

"Ghost, I presume?" he asked, holding out his hand. "I'm Captain Taylor, your team leader."

I shook his hand, feeling a sense of respect towards the man. "Nice to meet you, sir," I said.

The other three team members introduced themselves, a woman named Sam, a man named Jake, and a quiet, reserved guy named Matt. As we chatted and got to know each other, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging for the first time in a long time.

Captain Taylor then gave us a rundown of what to expect as new recruits of the PMC. He explained that we would go through a series of training exercises and simulations to test our abilities and work on any areas that needed improvement. He also warned us that the work was dangerous and that we needed to be prepared for anything.

The next few weeks were a blur of intense training and bonding with my team. I was surprised at how quickly we became a well-oiled machine, working together to complete each task and improve our abilities.

One day, Captain Taylor called us all into the conference room and announced that we were ready for our first mission.