《Mercenary Black Mamba Novel》 Chapter 1 January 20th, 1982. Kimpo International Airport, International Departure Hall. Uncle, thank you very much. A young man, about 20 years old, nodded towards the foreigner who had half-whitened hair. With a body as tense as refined piano wires and eyes as sharp as sashimi knives, the young man had an unnatural beauty that would have been called the best in Joseon. His name was Mu Ssang. Were not strangers! To think Id hear gratitude from my own nephew, now that just saddens me, the foreigner, British Ambassador Hamilton, laughed heartily. His Excellency was almost a Korean since he had been a British foreign services officer in Korea for over 20 years. Two years ago, Mu Ssang had saved Hamilton from a group of bandits, beginning a brotherly relationship. The power of one of Her Majestys ambassadors was astounding. Current president, Jeon Du Hwans government was in control of every international departure flight. Mu Ssang had no backings nor money. He wasnt worth the hair on a dog. Moreover, he had been a soldier who had a star on his name before being accused of a crime he did not commit. There was no way he could leave the country by ordinary means. Hamilton easily organized his departure. Even the visa he provided allowed Mu Ssang to move in and out of Korea for a year. On top of that, he had escorted him through the departure screening process and had given him a ride in his ambassadorial vehicle to Kimpo airport. He was like an uncle to him, and this made MuSsang feel overwhelming gratitude. A thanks is a thanks, Mu Ssang argued. Im a British official, and youre not the average person. Consider it bribery on my part to ask you for help when needed. You know, the type of bribes that Koreans are good at. Hehehe, youve learned all the bad things. Mu Ssang smiled sadly. Under Jeon Du Hwans government, there was nothing impossible with money. Jeon Du Hwan was someone who even got rid of the multi-millionaires in the country because they hadnt paid their political funds. Hahaha! You use what you learn. Legion Etranger is known to be the first unit to be sent into a controversial front. Be careful. Even if youre physically at your best, and you have learned the best martial arts, a bullet fired means a man is dead. Geez, youve said that three times already. Brat, 10 times isnt enough. I still dont understand why priest master Dae Woo permitted you. Its likely a reason I wouldnt understand since hes a man of wisdom. French people are silently aware of class differences. Even the service sector of the country isnt friendly towards Asians. Nonetheless, French government officials are as friendly as their small paychecks. Control your temper, do you understand? Hamilton continued to worry. Uncle, Im going to see you again, next year. Why are you talking as if Im leaving for good? Calm down, Mu Ssang lowered his head and entered the gate. Brat, Im telling you to watch your fist, Hamilton shouted after him. My fist! Mu Ssang flinched, then clenched and unclenched his fist before his eyes. This was a weapon that could break through the skull of an iron-headed boar. Although it looked like a womans hand, a closer look would reveal wounds littered all over his skin. It was simply that his unique physique didnt create lasting scars. The others should watch out. Stop worrying and visit my master now and then, Mu Ssang said carelessly as he passed the gate. Several emotions raged inside him as he walked down the jet bridge and sat down. He had forgone his studies to become a priest. He had acted as a disciple unbecoming his station and had now had forgone his Wooden Fish to hold a gun instead. How did this happen? he thought. A lump of sorrow welled up from within. In the end, he had failed to find his missing mother and had to leave his hometown. He had built a body like iron and techniques strong enough to break boulders, but he felt empty. Vrooom The plane vibrated lightly. The large chunk of metal sped down the runway before lifting off. His sensitive senses told him that the take-off was at an eight-degree angle. The Yellow Seas archipelago faded further away from his sight. The lands he loved and hated disappeared under the clouds. Now Im really leaving! he thought. His face pressed onto the tinted window and held a complicated expression. It was the land that had turned him into a sort-of orphan slave under his uncles household at nine, a country that had sent him to a mine with a pickaxe to pay for his studies, a land in which he had nearly died, crushed under coal remnants, and a land in which he had committed a murder when Chui Do Shik kidnapped him in the mountains. The avatar of never-ending faith, Jin Soon, Hae Young, whom he had shared a fiery love with, his master who had made his beastly self a human, his greedy uncle, his evil aunt, and officials who threw abused what little power they had, made for a land full of good and bad connections. I will definitely return. You beasts can enjoy yourselves until then. Mu Ssang ground his teeth. Excellency Hamilton had talked his ear off about the hardships of living a mercenary life, but he was not shaken. There was nothing to fear other than death. He had already died once when he was crushed under several tons of coal remnants. He had nearly died 10 times during his work in the mines. When he was imprisoned in Daegus jail for seven months, human Bak Mu Ssang had died, and, in his place, a well-sharpened knife emerged. He couldnt understand his masters profound thoughts in sending him, a disciple, to the path of evil, but he had taken the chance to become stronger. Hae Young, in the end, Im leaving! Ironically, he had been torn away from Hae Young with whom he had wanted to love and spend his life. Hae Young was crossing the Pacific Ocean towards America, and he was crossing the Indian Ocean towards Europe. They had each turned their backs on their home country, on women for their educational greed, and on men needing to resolve their uncontrollable bloodlust. If that had been fate, he wanted to break it apart. Mu Ssang adjusted his chair, leaned back, and relaxed his body as much as he could. He had to take a break when possible. The in-flight service, which provided him with slippers, blankets, TV, and a personal bar, came to his attention. This was all possible because Hamilton had booked him a business-class flight. His eyes closed automatically at the comfort the chair gave him. His memory was activated randomly. His memories, which had been silent for a long while, began to lead him into its fragments. The mental conditioning that he had gone through under the hands of Sai Dojiku still lingered. *** Mu Ssang crossed the peach tree fields behind his house. He had been late getting back after playing with his friends in the flower beds. The moon had already leaned towards the west. It was past midnight. If his mother found him sneaking in, he would be whipped on his calves until there were two blue lines. Crawling under the crumbling wall, Mu Ssang shouted in surprise, Ah, uncle! He ran into his uncle who was turning the corner of the house in a hurry. Uh, what are you? his uncle was surprised; it was as if he had met the devil in the middle of the road. Uncle, what are you doing here? Did you hurt your head? Nothing, nothing. You didnt see me; you hear? And with those words, his uncle crawled under the wall and disappeared into the night. Mu Ssang tilted his head. Adults didnt crawl under walls; that was a path he used, a path a dog had dug up. My instincts tell me he did something. Why is there a black paper on his forehead anyways? Who is he to tell me where to go and not go? Mu Ssangs curiosity didnt last long, as he was tired from playing. He entered his room and burrowed under the blankets. Fortunately, his mother didnt say anything. Whats the point of living, how will I face my husband when I die? His mother mumbled, but he fell asleep from overwhelming tiredness. The next day, he was awakened from his sleep by the shouts of people outside of his home. Why arent we given food? Wheres the woman? What are we meant to do if a restaurant doesnt serve food? When Mu Ssang came out of his room, the older men crowded around him. Wheres your mother? I dont know. Mu Ssang, still half asleep, rubbed his eyes and looked around. His mother was gone. All he could see in the room was a broken lampshade and an overturned bronze bowl. His house wasnt large. He searched the kitchen and the restroom even underneath the floorboards. His mother wasnt there. Mu Ssang went all around the town looking for his mother. Damn, where is she? I need my food. Mu Ssang ate some leftover food before going to school. Mum! Mu Ssang shouted after returning from school. There was no reply. The workers from the construction site were in front of his house talking in hushed voices. His close neighbors, Lee Kang Chul and Jo, couldnt be seen anywhere. Kid, what happened to your mother? What happened? Mu Ssang nearly cried. Fear crept into him. The complaining men couldnt wait any longer and left the house. A strange silence filled the house where men once ate and spoke vibrantly. There was only a hungry nine-year-old boy. Mu Ssang took out what was left of the rice in the pot. It was cold. He waited for his mother while stuffing the rice in his mouth, but his mother didnt return even when it was late into the night. His mother didnt return on the second day and not the days that followed. Mu Ssang didnt go to school. Sitting at the edge of a table in his yard, he waited for his mother. The place in which his mother had waited for his dead father to come back had become a place for him to wait for his mother. And like that, two, four, seven days passed. He waited without washing his face that was dirtied by tears and a runny nose. He stayed in that place even when his stomach growled in hunger. He felt as if his mother would never return if he left that spot. A week passed. His mother didnt appear, but his uncle did and dragged him out of the front gates. He cried, saying that he had to wait for his mother, but his uncle didnt even pretend to hear him. He slapped him several times. And, at the young age of nine, he became an orphan no, a slave. *** You brat, get out here. Why? He was tired. It seemed his uncle had another reason to scold him. His uncle grabbed his neck without warning; his temper, which had been calm for a while, was now erupting. Let me down! Lets go, you bastard! His body was frail after having been starved for long. He was dragged out like a scarecrow by the brute force. Punch punch A fat hand hit the back of his head relentlessly. Every time he was hit, his forehead bounced on the ground. Die, you damned robber! If youve stolen my money, you should be running. Why are you still in my house? What are you talking about? Robbery? Money? Hah, look at you. You think you can get away with stealing all of the shops money? How many times is this? His uncle always blamed him with such accusations out of the blue. It seemed he was delusional from an illness. Im Bak Jin Bos son, Mu Ssang. Bang Bang Every time the back of his head was hit, he stubbornly resisted so he would not be sprawled on the floor. The last thing he wanted was to roll on the dirty floor in pain. I didnt go near the shop. I went to see some fish and visited the field. Aunt Jang came down from the houses main platform. Her eyebrows, which had already risen, went up higher, and her cheekbones seemed to get redder. Her cold eyes scared him, so he avoided eye contact. Look at you, you thieving brat. Seems like lying is the only thing your mouth can do. So, did your school fee fall from the sky? she said with venom. UhThats not it Slap My teacher Slap Every time he talked, Aunt Jangs slapped him. It meant for him to shut up and take the hit. Because she had a strong build, her slaps stung. Blood had pooled in his mouth; it tasted of iron. His aunts eyes were always fearsome. It was those stilted eyes that followed him even in his dreams. The eyes of a true assailant. His uncle was only a second-hand assailant compared to her. You can suffer as much as I have. That was what he heard from her the first day he was dragged to this home. He never trusted those words. Exactly what kind of suffering had she gone through? He was curious. His uncle glared some more. Tak, you speak. You said you saw Mu Ssang walk out of the shop? Yes, I saw Mu Ssang run out for sure. Wu Tak straightened his back as if he was giving a speech during a sports festival and spoke with the purest face he could muster. He recalled a story about Saint Peter who denied Jesus three times before the rooster cried. The problem was that Wu Tak was someone who would keep lying even after the rooster cried. Mu Ssang, who was flabbergasted, glared at Wu Tak. Wu Tak, you bastard. Stop lying. You really saw me? At Mu Ssangs glare, Wu Tak averted his eyes. Why are you calling your older brother by his name? His uncle punched the back of his head with his fist. At the pain of his eyeballs shooting forward, tears gathered in his eyes. Hwa Ja, who had just entered the gate, ran inside. Father, he keeps hanging outside of our shop. Im pretty sure he did it if it concerns money. Ha! Mu Ssangs mouth fell open. He hadnt even gone near the shop. Hwa Ja said incriminating lies without a single blink. Mu Ssangs insides were burning. He looked at the sky. When he became frustrated or sad, he had the habit of looking at the sky. The sun hanging over the peak of Jak Doo San had disappeared. The western sky started to show stars. Oh, I see. You thief, youre dead. His uncle, whose spirits had risen, stared into his face. He could grasp what had happened. His uncle didnt have a good personality, but he wasnt someone who hit people without reason. Usually, Wu Tak caused the scene, and Aunt Jang made it worse. Wu Tak was sly and liked sweet things. Wu Tak had stolen the stores money and had blamed it on him countless times. Even if he claimed his innocence, as long as Aunt Jang was there screaming, it wasnt going to work. Resisting and making claims was only going to make the situation worse. Yeah, I should just let myself be hit some more and get this over and done with, Mu Ssang thought, giving up on his excuses. He would have rather been chased out of the house, but his uncle and Jang werent going to let him run away because they had no one to work for them. He didnt want to complain or ask for forgiveness. It wasnt the first time he was blamed for something he didnt do, and getting hit some more wasnt going to kill him. Now that theres no way to escape, youve finally shut your mouth. Aunt Jang sat back on the platform and spewed out poison. His uncle, now emboldened, reaffirmed his determination. You little sh*t, Im going to kill you. His uncle pulled out his belt and wrapped it around his hand. The leather belt with embedded studs was nearly a torture device. Mu Ssang was exasperated rather than scared. He wondered, Why do these people torment me? It had been three years since he had been dragged here. Until now, he still hadnt been given a full meal and had labored heavily. He wanted to ask why they were so cruel to him and why they had such hatred in their eyes. His thoughts didnt last long. The leather belt thrashed his thin shoulders and back without fail. Smack Smack Mu Ssang tried his best to curl up and covered his face with his arms. If his face was cut, his mother may not be able to recognize him. Red lines appeared on his back. In the end, his skin split and blood flowed. Mu Ssang who was filled to the brim with injustice and anger couldnt even feel the pain. Go ahead, hit me. Ill return it to you twofold. Mu Ssangs eyes flashed with bloodlust. Bak In Bo, who was agitated, failed to notice his nephews cold eyes. By the time he ran out of stamina, Aunt Jang who had been standing by the platform called out. Stop it now! We dont want to be responsible for his hospital fees. Its obvious the son of that whore would do such things. Damn, this rotten thing. Fine. Not a peep or a scream. Tsk His uncle dragged up some saliva and spat on Mu Ssang. He sauntered to the main room and banged the door closed. Crash A sound echoed through the hazy skies, and raindrops started to fall one by one. The blood that mixed with the rain started to spread across the front yard. Hahaha! Laughter came out of him. Instead of his uncles lashes, his aunts gaze pained him more. That gaze was not one that regarded him as a human being. It was a gaze full of disinterest looking down on a dying dog stuck in the middle of a pond. Jang looked at him as if he was a pest but didnt kick him out of her house. The neighbor, Old man Ha Dong, told him what a parental authority was in terms of the law and what his uncle and Aunt Jang were planning. His fathers house and peach field had become his uncles possessions. According to Ha Dong, his uncle had sold his fathers field and fixed up the house to start a little general store. He remembered the day he was dragged out of his home while waiting for his mother. The Shin-Jak road was full of dust and the hoots of owls, which followed him. That was the day he had fallen to hell from heaven. There was no end in sight. *** Ack! There was a skeleton right where Mu Ssang fell. Ew! He had kissed the skull upon falling on it. He spat continuously, but there was no end to the salty taste. The virus that had been attached to the skull rampaged through his body as if it was being vacuumed in and began its contamination through his respiratory system. The virus used the metabolism of the host cells. 40 minutes was the shortest time needed for reproduction, and at the most, it needed one hour. The Excita virus had a component called Ricetta, which allowed its reproduction to bloom rapidly. Its DNA entered the host cells DNA without regard. The virus finished its first growth within three seconds and entered a phase of unlimited reproduction. As the Excita RNAs electrons attached themselves to the host cells, the poison was expelled in the process causing the host cells to tremble. The poison that the Excita virus created was currently beyond the toxicity of Botulinum. The human who came into contact with such a poison was bound to die. A Paranthropus cell had some resistance to the Excita virus, but that was the only one. In that rare case, the person would be tortured but not killed. Mu Ssang lifted up the skull. Agh, ho, hot! His hands burned as if he had picked up a flaming piece of coal. He was so surprised that he dropped the skull; it rolled on the ground. He had felt that it was hot, but his reaction, in fact, came from the surprised reaction of his nervous system infected by the Excita virus. Wha, what the hell? He was confused because the reaction had occurred so suddenly. Now that he thought about it, he had felt a hot sensation running across his skin when he was putting the bones together. He had thought nothing of it. He had not questioned it. Aaaaah! His howl resounded across Wol Song San. A surprised flock of Parus Major flew away from the noise. Mu Ssang rolled on the ground as if he was a worm sprayed by salt. His head swarmed. He became so disoriented that he could not tell up from down. He lost consciousness. It was to protect the body from shock, but even when he had fainted, his body kept trembling from the pain. Only the sounds of the cuckoos remained. The possibility that a human with a Paranthropus cell coming across the Excita virus was one in a billion. It was literally impossible. And Mu Ssang had that very cell. But a low possibility was still a possibility. Sometimes, the world causes things that happen outside of the norm. When coincidences collide, it creates something called fate. Mu Ssang was now involved in that one-in-a-billion chance: his fate. Where am I? Who am I? The wet and stuffy smell of the earth rose into his nose; it was something he had never smelled before. He shook his head and tried to wake up. This was his first time in the cave. And so, at an early age of 10, Mu Ssang became entirely different from all the other children. *** He sold two northern snakeheads for 1000 Won at the farmers market, but he ran into trouble while exiting the main gates, appearing to be an uplifted mood. Two police officers rushed forward like eagles after their prey. He didnt understand and wondered what they were talking about, What was a Sony radio, and what was larceny? The second day he was assailed with interviews. He repeated what he had been doing for the past two days at least 10 times. One of the police officers, the one wearing a black jacket, was his Aunt Jangs distant cousin, Jang Chi Soo. Mu Ssang, who had fallen asleep, twitched. They had threatened to beat him up sooner or later. When he was dragged to the police station, he had been scared, but he was not stupid. After reading the documents several times, he refused to put his signature on it. It was fabricated. In summary, it was a plea to forgive him for trying to steal a box of radios, which he had intended to sell to earn some money and flee the house. There was no way Mu Ssang, who valued his freedom, was going to sign that. I didnt do this. Brat, just put your fingerprint on it. You want me to become a thief by doing so? The man in the black jacket swung his metal police bat around. Bang Bang It hit Mu Ssangs head. Do you want to die, or do you want to put your fingerprint on it? Neither. Damn, are you trying to anger me some more? The man in the black jacket hit his cheek and kicked his shin with his polished shoes. Police officer, let me at least see what this radio you speak of looks like, he begged. He had no idea what a radio was. Bang bang The black-jacketed man thrashed him with the bat between his head and shoulders. Look at this thing, trying to lie his way out. Whats the point of asking me what youve stolen? Mu Ssang wrapped his arms around his head and replied, Tell me how I could possibly hide something that I havent seen or heard of. What a joke. How would I know where youve hidden your stash? No one confessed. That means its you. Make sense, you idiot. Bang Bang Blood trickled down his head, which had been thrashed some more. Ah, why do you keep hitting me? Confess before I bash your head in, wont you? It hurts. I swear I was sleeping in my room when the truck accident happened on the highway. And does anyone know that? Is there someone whod prove you were in your room? No, but Then its you, you sh*t. Bang Crash The officer kicked his stomach. Mu Ssang felt the back of his head break as he fell backward in his chair. The man acted as if he was one of those Japanese colonizers from his books. Without the right answer, the accused was to be tormented and tortured. If people werent deformed by the beating, they were disabled or killed. Im too tired to hit you. Just put your fingerprint down, and you can go. If I put my fingerprint on the square, doesnt it mean Im confessing to having stolen something? Ack, this f*cking bastard is driving me crazy. Listen to yourself. I dont think your words are more valuable than me turning into a criminal. Ha, look at you running your mouth. Jang Chi Soo had gone around the bend. This young thing was even sturdier than a cows hide. He had not been able to wring out an admission from him for three days. It was embarrassing to look at his co-workers mocking laughter. Bastard, when I tell you to sign, you sign. Stop chattering away. Dont swear, sir. I didnt do anything to be trashed-talked to. Ha! Youre still running your mouth. It seems like your mouth is the only thing alive. Ill beat you into submission, then. Do whatever you want. Im not a thief. Argh, Ill see you dead today! The officer punched with his large fists. Mu Ssang, who was hit on his cheeks, rolled around on the floor, untied from his chair by the beating. He stood up and spat out the blood gathered in his mouth as he glared at the police officer. Jang Chi Soo found the kids eyes spooky. Youre the worst kind of breed, arent ya? You little weed, is that what your father taught you? Mu Ssang wanted to pull out all of the officers hair as he pushed his face and foul stench into his face. Why are you bad-mouthing my dead father? Does your father teach you things from the grave? You have an amazing father. The police officers around the office laughed. Hey, Officer Jang, it seems youve met your match today. That kid is one hard nut to crack. His name is Mu Ssang, aint it? His mouth lives up to his name. The officers face turned red as the sounds of laughter continued. This little sh*t. You think this is funny, huh? His reasoning left him. He punched and kicked without regard. Mu Ssang was beaten as he covered his face. He felt confident that he could win against the officer if he could fight, but then he would become a real criminal. Hey, Jang Chi Soo. What the hell do you think youre doing. A shout rang out. The jacketed man stopped hitting. Sir, this kid isnt breaking. You idiot, dont you know this is a surveillance unit? You want to be fired, is that it? Hes a child. Stop beating him up. Damn it, Im losing my reputation over a kid. Jang Chi Soo spat on him. Mu Ssang had become quite a sight. His nose was bloody, and his lips had ripped. His eyes had turned black and blue, and blood trickled out of one of his ears. Your name is Jang Chi Soo, right? Im not going to forget that. From now on, if you hit me, Im not going to stay still. A fiery light emanated from his swollen eyes. Mu Ssang hadnt been intimidated in the least. Fire roared behind his gaze. There was nothing to getting beaten up since he had been beaten by his uncles family for over four years. He engraved Officer Jangs face into his mind. Ha, this sh*t is the real deal. Im going to go crazy. Officer Jan flew into a rage but couldnt hit the kid with visible attacks. Mu Ssang was locked behind a glass cage once more. There was no other parrot like him; he repeated his words again and again. Later, it came to the point where he could repeat the details of the admission paper line by line. Officer Jan had said that he would release him once he signed it, but Mu Ssang didnt budge. The Jjajangmyeon tastes great. Im going to go home late. Im planning to eat more of this. Ugh, I want to beat you to death. Jang Chi Soo threatened him. Hey, you weakling. I heard you always steal from your uncles store. I heard your aunt has given up on you. Your uncle and aunt also said that it was you who stole those things. They did, did they? Damn them! He ground his teeth, but there was no way out of the accusation. The officer had no intention of listening to his explanations. Mu Ssang now had a reputation as a depraved person. Every police officer he came across punched his head or smacked it with their report file. Due to that, Mu Ssang came to regard the police force from this dark perspective for his entire life. Mu Ssang was 13, so he couldnt go to jail. After being sentenced to psychological treatment for 10 hours and observation, he was released. This damned breed of evil! If we tracked your age according to your looks, I would have put you in jail a long time ago. Damn it! Its just a years difference. Office Jang lamented having to release this 13-year old. Apparently, he was not officially charged due to the lack of acute responsibility as a 13-year old. It meant that they were going to overlook his problem. The officer looked as if he wanted to change the records of his birth date. The day he walked out of the station, Mu Ssang talked to Officer Jan. Thank you for all the meals. My name is Mu Ssang. Do remember it. I dont do childish things like stealing radios. Your name is Jang Chi Soo, right? Im indebted. Ill never forget you. Mu Ssang was not a weakling who was always defeated. He took out his list of people to kill and wrote Jang Chi Soos name with a heavy hand. He was afraid it would get erased if he wrote it in pencil, so he wrote it in ink. Mu Ssang glared at the sticker on the main door of the station: The Helping Hand of all People. Helping hand? Just admit to beating all people instead. You damned thugs! he shouted before the police station at the top of his lungs. Hehehe, you sh*theads, stay right there until I come back. The more comfortable you are, the more painful it will get when I exact my revenge. Since Mu Ssangs sleep talk didnt end, the complexion of the old woman, who sat beside him on the plane, turned pale. She had heard that Asians lacked manners and feared that the man beside her would stand up and do something rash. And that is how the nightmare of the battlefield, the call name of the angel of deathBlack Mambaand the Eastern baptism that established the land of freedom in Africa, began. A country in which the weak and victims were protected, where a person on the job was rewarded for their effort, where there was no special treatment, started with the slumber of this person in a seat in Business Class, on a DC-10 to Paris. A man who was getting freedom from his past. Chapter 2 The old woman was scared. She seriously considered asking the flight attendant if she could move to another seat. But once she looked carefully at Mu Ssangs face, her frown disappeared. Handsome. She thought. It was a face with defined cheekbones, but one side had an unfortunate scar on his otherwise unblemished skin. She suddenly felt pity for this young man having a nightmare next to her and slowly wiped the sweat beading on his forehead. *** He woke to the sound of the falling snow. Heavy snow was usually silent, but light snow gave off a rustling sound. In times like this, he lamented the fact that he had abnormal hearing. The scent of his dirty blanket rose to his nose. The smell of blood inside the bedbug on his wall also came into the range of his senses. This sensitivity was so annoying. The room had not been sealed properly against the outside winds, but the floor had heated up since he had shoved some wood in the fire before he had gone to sleep. Now theres no point in going up Wol Song mountain with my pack, nor the chance to feed the cow, he thought. Mu Ssang realized how much he missed warmth the moment he stood on the heated floor. He placed some soup in a pot on top of the stove. When the wood in the stove started to burn, he left. He ran up the mountain in a flash. And coming down, he threw his sweaty body in the lake to wash himself. The light snow turned heavier. Clumps of snowflakes fell into the lake and melted. If someone would have seen him washing himself in the freezing lake during the snow, they would have called him a ghost. The lake was near Nakdong River, a place where people often saw ghosts. Mu Ssang washed for a long time. He wanted to wash away the tears, troubles, desperation, and rage he had gathered in his uncles house. *** The moment he poured the soup into the trough, his nose twinged. He patted the cows cheeks who then stuffed its face into the melange. Be well. Who will take care of you when Im not around? With no one else around, there was only an animal to whom he could say farewell. He washed some rice and placed it on top of the stove then made some soup with taro. All he had, otherwise, was kimchi and the grains that Ha Dong had sent him. He ate breakfast and gathered his belongings into the newly bought school bag. All he had were some books, pencils, and notes. He didnt bother packing the worn clothes hanging on the wall. While he was heading out of the house, he ran across Jang. Rather, Jang had been waiting for him by the front gate. As usual, an abnormal hatred was pouring out of her gaze. Mu Ssang silently lowered his head. You little ungrateful bastard. I hope you beg yourself to death out there. As usual, barbed words fell from her mouth. There was so much he wanted to say, but he didnt want to waste time. You dont feed me or give me clothes, so theres nothing I should be grateful for. The blanket and clothes in that rotten room, thats what I earned, down to the very bowl. The clothes Im wearing and the bag Im holding, I bought myself. You didnt give me a single cent while I lived in your house over the past five years. I am a beggar. Thanks for making me beg while also working for you. Mu Ssang felt such relief in finally speaking the words that, for so long, he hadnt been able to say to this woman. But he had disrespected his aunt, so that wasnt the best idea. Perhaps calling this person before him a woman, after she caused the disappearance of his mother and attempted to kill him, was enough respect. Your father would turn in his grave looking at you like this. Yes. Im leaving exactly because of my father. He would turn in his grave seeing his son live under these conditions. You damned thing! I hope you die. Whether I beg or die, thats not something for you to concern yourself with. Jangs glare could have drilled a hole through the back of his head, but he didnt care. This was his escape from a desolate island after five years. The snow gathered until it buried his calves. All he had was a school bag. The heavy snow turned lighter once more. Mu Ssang didnt turn back, not even once. *** Vrrr Mu Ssang was heading back from loading up the coal into the cart when he felt a slight vibration. He paused. A shiver ran through his body and vanished. The moment he was about to turn around, a large sound ripped through the mine. Crash Black liquid fell from several meters above him. It was unbelievable. The liquid covered his entire workspace in a flash. The three other people mining the coals were covered and suffocated almost instantly. A large tremor came from the back of the mine. Mu Ssang was overcome with fear. Time slowed and so did his reactions. Ahhh! Mu Ssang hurled the cart away ran towards the exit as if death was on his tail. Shouts echoed behind him from the very depths of the mine. Even the leader of the group was uncharacteristically shouting. The moment his conscience understood that he was in peril, his body started to enter the most defensive form possible. His blood started to flow at three times its usual pace and pumped violently in the lower half of his body. His leg muscles, which seemed comparable to a horses muscles, pounded against the floor as he ran. Unfortunately, the force of an oncoming wave was faster than a man could move. A weight pressed down on him. Pain rampaged throughout his body. He recalled the face of his mother who had abandoned him. F*ck, I need to find my mom! his desperate shout was buried underneath the strange noise. Desperately, he tried to stand, but his weight had increased several-fold. He felt sharp pains in several places in his body and started to suffocate. His thoughts began to stray. Darkness surged. Ha! Mu Ssang, who was momentarily frightened into awakening, closed his eyes once more. The last thought in his mind as he was crushed under the flow of coal was his mother. He had been more desperate for his mother than he was fearful of death. *** Hae Youngs house was a two-story Japanese-style house. In the center of her courtyard was a pond. Planks were fitted head-to-head around the pond, making a mysterious atmosphere. The late autumn rain that had continued throughout the night had receded in the early morning. The sunlight and gentle winds dried the courtyard instantly. A sudden rush of wind blew the fallen leaves into a corner then up into the second-floor window. The man standing by the window closed it. A brown leaf slid down the closed window slowly. The mans gaze, full of emptiness and pain, followed its path. I should leave. If I cant be a rock for my woman to lean on, I shouldnt be a rock in her path. He sighed with regret. Beside the window was an elegant turntable. His long and hard fingers picked up a Cesaria Evora album. Hae Young liked Evora, and he liked Besame Mucho. Mu Ssang set the record on the turntable, and the needle hit it perfectly. This was not an easy feat. The arm moved by itself and landed on the first track. Que tengo miedo tenerte. (I am scared I will lose you.) Y perderte despus. (I will still be scared.) Quiero tenerte muy cerca. (I want to have you close to me.) Sorrowful lyrics from Evoras voice filled his chest, and his heart pounded. Ah, Hae Young! The name he had decided not to call out, even in the most desperate of times, leaked through his mouth. Thinking of the last night of his stay in the motel sent tearful emotions through his mind. The moonlight reflecting off the window caused her bare skin to shine with a bluish tint. His thoughts wandered as he looked at the womans body. She must have been so tied to have fallen asleep without even bathing! She was lovely. Her hair stuck to the perspiration on her forehead. Even that was beautiful. Mu Ssang tiptoed out of the room like a cat. He lifted the water jug and went to the kitchen. He rekindled what remained of the fire underneath the furnace and poured several buckets of water inside. Psst Water began to boil. He put some of the warm water in the jug and returned to the room. He wet a towel and began to wipe down her body. Hae Young remained sleeping like a corpse, snoring. It made him sad to think that she must have had such a difficult experience to be sleeping so soundly. He wiped her down, from her chest to her waist, and she remained asleep. His hard work only ended after he refilled the jug five more times. He had stayed up all night, but he couldnt go to sleep. His abnormally strange body wasnt tired even after all the sex throughout the night. Rather, it was completely awake. He didnt feel like going back to sleep. He left the room, ran down the path and climbed the cliff at the back of the village. He threw off his clothes and swam in the ocean. It was the middle of winter, and the water was so cold that it might give a person a heart attack. But that didnt concern him. His body had already evolved beyond that of a normal humans body, and, as expected, water was needed to kill the fire that had been rampaging in his body. Hae Young woke up from her sleep around noon. The sunlight poured into her room and lit up the cave-like darkness. Ah! Hae Young shouted lightly as she sat up in surprise. A strong arm wrapped around her waist. A mans scent filled her body. She was happy being wrapped in warm skin and pressed up against a firm chest. He was her man who she wouldnt share with anyone else. A rough hand caressed her thighs. Youre awake? Yes, just now. He wasnt fully awake and mumbled something. I dont know, you beast! Over seven times, I think. I did? I deserve to be shouted at, then. Ugh, thinking of living with a beast like you, my future looks bleak. She rolled her eyes and he smiled broadly. That was the one woman he had promised to love for his lifetime: Hae Young. *** Kekeke, sugoi, sugoi (amazing)! Ive finally gotten something worth its price. Kekeke. Chui Do Shik! He was a fear deeply engraved into his brain. He could hear his voice and that the evil laugh. Mu Ssangs sleeping body twitched violently. Are you sick? Would you like an airsickness bag? Foreign words knocked against his silence, and he woke up. His brain struggled, unable to discern the boundary between his dreams and reality. The flight attendant held a cup of water before him and had a worried look on her face. Thank you. Can I have a wet towel? She handed him a towel, and he wiped his sweat. Chui Do Shik, whose Japanese name was Sai Dojiku, could make Heuk Dam of Bang Tae San cry with that evil laugh. He was Mu Ssangs nemesis. Where are we now? We will arrive in Singapore soon. The old woman beside him called the flight attendant. Puis-je changer de place? (Can I change my place?) He didnt know French, but he could tell that she was requesting a seat change. Mu Ssang smiled bitterly. A healthy man, who was slightly unstable, did seem dangerous, after all. The attendant shook her head and tried to assure the old woman. The old woman, exasperated, glanced at Mu Ssang. He drank another cup of water and closed his eyes. It was still a long way to Paris. He still had to change planes in Singapore and go another 14 hours. Chui Do Shik had experienced trauma at a young age and turned his entire life around. Mu Ssang now wondered if his separation from the woman he had longed to love his entire life dug up his deep traumatic memories. He wondered if he could also turn his life around. This is the side effect of my mental conditioning! The memories he had once lost followed him even in his dreams. Now, he wasnt even tired of them. It became a part of normal life. He looked out of the window. The sky was dark. He suddenly became worried as to whether his master would take his medication on time. He was as healthy as a finely crafted staff but was still over 80 years old. *** Three hours after arriving in Singapore, he boarded an Air France DC-10, which was considered a coffin even on shorter flights. He didnt realize how tired he was. Physically, he felt fine, but he wasnt thinking straight. He asked for a drink. A slim, tall flight attendant brought him a green wine bottle. Sciaccarello! Yes, Sciaccarello! Mu Ssang thought that she was speaking French for drink. It was only afterward that he realized it was the name of a wine. He attempted to sleep after drinking the entire bottle. It was his first meeting with the Sciaccarello that he would come to love. He closed his eyes. Professor Giz had told him not to worry too much. He had said that it was the process of his memories returning after being suppressed. Because of his master, his forced memories had at least settled somewhat. *** Clap clap Chui Do Shik clapped his hands. He lifted Mu Ssang and went inside the log house. After laying him down on the bed, Chui Do Shik poked around his body here and there and slapped him with his hands in several places. Kuk, Ahh! Every time he was touched, MuSsang screamed, but Chui Do Shik didnt stop. It seems like you werent broken anywhere. Youre uncomprehendingly strong. At this rate, your bones are two times stronger than Akakikao. To think there was this type of material, I cant believe it. Your ribs and left arm have been broken, right shoulder is dislocated, and four of your ribs are bruised. There is some internal bleeding but not much on the outside. It seems like your front tooth is broken too. Some muscles are torn here and there, but its not that bad. Chui Do Shik observed him as if he was looking over a cow on the market and said his diagnosis flatly. You f*ck! If this isnt broken, then what is? Mu Ssang screamed internally. His brain was burning from the pain and healing Chui Do Shik was giving him. If he was sent to the hospital, they would have sent him to the emergency room immediately. What a perfect body to operate on. He tied the broken body to the bed. Mu Ssang fell in despair. Chin Do Shik had not tied him down when he first tested out needles on his body. Tying him down meant that there was going to be a higher form of pain and torture awaiting him. Chui Do Shik pulled out a silver needle at least five inches long. Mu Ssangs eyes widened to the point of ripping. His heart seemed to have stopped beating by him just looking at the needle. Whether Mu Ssang was scared or not, Chui Do Shik pushed the long needle into the center nerve of his brain where the spinal cord ended. This blood vessel was a part of his anterior spinal vessel, one mark away from the basilic vein on both sides. Arghh Mu Ssang felt pain that made his mind go white, a pain he had never felt before in his life. The belts on the bed began to tear from his shaking. Chui Do Shik glanced at those tears before inserting a needle near the seventh vertebrae of his spinal cord. His shaking stopped like magic. The lower half of his body had been paralyzed. Chui Do Shik placed similar needles on his anterior cerebral and his cerebral cortex. He was extremely careful. One needle took 5 minutes. Every time a needle was inserted, the pain increased several folds. He didnt tamper with Mu Ssangs brain when paralyzing his body, and the shocks he received were increasing. By the time the fifth needle ran through his blood vessel, he felt his consciousness slipping away. Blood poured continuously down his nose. And like that, five needles were inserted into his brain. Mu Ssang fell into a vegetative state. A third person lifted his head and fed him a liquid. His conscious altered between lucidity and unconsciousness. You are my slave and disciple. I, Chui Do Shik, am your father. You must always respect your priest, your father and serve him for the rest of your life. The words were repeated continuously. Strangely, his head picked up on them. One of Chin Do Shiks lackeys lifted Mu Ssang and placed him inside a murky liquid. He went through 10 days of recovery. When his body recovered, he was hit by the lackey and moved inside the cave once more. Mu Ssang grit his teeth. Inside the cave, he shivered, recalling the needles that were inserted inside his head. It felt as if every single nerve had been awakened in his body, and the feeling of a small needle crawling around his veins made him nearly wet his pants. Hatred burned inside him. He wanted to chew up that priest and drink his blood. He wanted to slit his stomach and drag him around by his intestines. Chui Do Shik, you sh*t, Im going to kill you! A desperate shout echoed in the cave. Mu Ssangs eyes turned red. *** Grrr It was a low-frequency growl trembling through its vocal cords. The animals stench rose in the air. What! Mu Ssang was astounded. His premonitions of danger had become irritating. F*ck, I should have watched my words. Why did I say it? Ive dug my own grave. As the stench grew thicker, a bloodthirsty beast entered the cave. There were no sounds of footsteps. Grrrowl The beast roared inside the cave. Come on, you little sh*t! Mu Ssang also shouted. The reason behind the lackey spraying his blood around finally made sense: to provoke the beast before him. After smelling the blood, the beast became even more angered. Considering the soundless movements, the beast was a cat. Although it wasnt one of the big ones, like a lion or a tiger. Chui Do Shik, you f*cker! At this desperate shout, the beast responded with a growl. Mu Ssang realized that this was the call of a predator. He was in a situation where he could turn into an animals meal. A leopard? As he entered his battle stance, the animals size could be approximated. It was a sense Mu Ssang had developed after trying to eat centipedes for food inside the dark cave. Although he couldnt see, he could grasp the size and presence of its movements. Leopard, puma, jaguar? The list of feline animals ran through his head. He was the object of the bloodlust the animal was feeling. His skin was tingling, and his hair stood on end. Adrenaline ran throughout his body; his blood boiled, and the shiver that began at his toes ran up his spine and flashed onto his head. At the same time, his tenacity and survival instincts rose. He came to Bang Tae San to live not to die. He had survived this far, in a constant battle every single day of his life. He wasnt going to let some beast take it. He couldnt die simply because of how unfair it was. Aaaa! Come at me! a shout to intimidate the beast erupted out of Mu Ssang. He pushed back the fear with his own bloodlust. The strong will to end the life before him was impressed on the beast. This was the result of the genetic reactions to Paranthropus. Considering the ancient beast he had fought in his dreams, a leopard wouldnt give much of a fight. A shout to intimidate the beast erupted from Mu Ssang. He pushed back the fear with his bloodlust. He impressed on the beast his strong will to end his life. This was a result of the genetic reactions to the Paranthropus. Considering the ancient beast he had fought in his dreams, this one wouldnt be much of a match. Because of Mu Ssangs violent aura, the beast couldnt attack rashly. This was a life and death situation, a match between two with a desire to kill. There was nothing to take for granted when facing life and death. They both knew that their opponent wasnt something to underestimate. The beast moved right, and the Mu Ssang kept glaring. The boundary between human and animal was drawn. A battle of wills began. The moment the beasts bloodlust went beyond its limits, it pounced without a sound. Its desire to kill was too strong to be held back among the smell of blood. Mu Ssang instinctively understood that its mark was his neck. He lowered his stance and made a fist, aiming at the beasts face before launching it like a cannonball. It was smart. It tilted its head and reached out with its claw, scratching his cheek. Ugh. He had avoided the front paw by leaning away, but it was a little wet. The claws, like a blade, made a bloody mark from his temples to his left cheek. The beast had torn his clothes and skin and landed without a sound. Grr The beasts low grumble reverberated around the cave. Mu Ssangs eyes turned red after seeing blood. His bloodlust made him forget his pain. It was the rampage of a wild man. Kwaaa! His strange scream shook the cave. The last of his fear evaporated. All that remained was his instinct to break the beasts bones and rip its skin. It was a cave without a shred of light. They had to fight each other with limited sight. The leopard, predator of the night, couldnt talk, and Mu Ssang was at a disadvantage in the dark, but his battle instincts awakened. All that was left to think about was skin and bones. When it attacked, he had to tear the beasts skin and break its bones to level the playing field. It was 45 degrees to his right and about 10 steps away. It had hunched up to attack. He moved a foot forward. It was going to pounce soon. He could feel the beasts movements vividly. It was a sense he had gained through searching out centipedes and fighting Chui Do Shiks lackeys. The silence of the atmosphere in the cave shifted. Darkness crashed. The beast closed in several meters and shot forward in an attempt to latch onto his neck with its open jaws. He gave it his shoulder and punched its stomach with his fist. Kuk! Kaa This time, he wasnt too late. He started to learn the rhythm. Before its teeth could dig deeper down to his bones, he lashed out at its side. It released his shoulder and rolled on the floor. How dare you, cat! Its reactions were faster than he anticipated. His fist punched it shallowly. He couldnt injure it permanently because it moved away. The leopard missed his bone and main artery, but the blade-like jaws had managed to tear a fair bit of his flesh away. It had also clawed his chest. He reached his pain threshold and it rampaged inside his head. It pained him to have even the slightest thorn on his fingertips. So how painful it is to have flesh ripped apart by fangs! The smell of blood hit his nose. Bam Bam The flow of blood pulsed faster. His vision was clouded by redness, and his fighting spirit rose. He wasnt scared of some meager feline. He thought of the monsters he faced in his dreams. The leopard wasnt even in the predatory category. In his dreams, he had fought monsters while holding back his intestines that were about to fall out. To eat or be eaten: that caused his spirit to rise further. He could read the slower movements of the beast and managed to land a blow where its kidney was. That was a critical weak spot of four-legged beasts, and he had injured it. Krrr The injured man and beast started to rear up once more. The starved beast ran forward. Kaaa Die! One-to-one, they bit, hit, threw, and rolled around. He couldnt land a solid hit while avoiding the beasts front teeth and claws. Knife-like claws ran over Mu Ssangs body. He used both fists and feet to land blows. The ancient cave was filled with the scent of blood, the beasts roars, and the mans shouts. He managed to avoid the front paws solely by instinct. His body leaned back, and his foot managed to catch the beasts chin. Yeow The beast, which had been hit squarely, screamed and retreated. It shook its head rapidly. Kitty, how did that feel? Mu Ssang shouted with confidence. The man and beast created some distance between themselves and entered an observational phase. Both were tired. The beast took shallow breaths. The beast was injured on the inside, and the man was injured on the outside. Hunger and the scent of blood had infected them with bloodlust, but these two opponents were almost equal. It weighed about 50-100 kilograms. There was a time when a leopard was reported to be 150 kilograms, but that was a special case all by itself. 150 kilograms was nearly the weight of a tiger. From his instincts, he could tell that the beast was around 80 kilograms, and his weight was 70 kilograms. There was no reason for him to be pushed back in a battle of strength. Of course, the leopard had enough power to hold a dead, 60-kilogram deer in its jaws while jumping up a tree. But he was confident in his strength. It was just the animals speed was a little worrisome. It was dangerous, but he decided to lure the beast to end this battle. Mu Ssang trembled and fell to the ground. The beast ran forward to end MuSsangs life once and for all. Bastard, thats why youre a measly animal. Mu Ssang pushed his injured shoulder-deep into the beasts mouth. It bit as if it had been waiting for it. Without missing that chance, he grabbed the beast by its waist. Kwaaang The surprised beast tried to get rid of the formidable man by thrashing around. But Mu Ssang was stronger. He grabbed onto its waist harder by pushing its neck up. At the pain of being bent, the beast scratched at Mu Ssangs back, which became ragged from the beasts claws. Kwak! Mu Ssang shouted, without realizing it, so loud that he tore up his vocal cords. The pain, like hot coals being pressed upon his back, caused his consciousness to wane for a moment. Die! With a shout, the cave trembled. Mu Ssang pressed himself closer to the beast. He wrapped his legs around its waist and wrapped his two arms around its neck. And in that position, he pushed the beasts head back with the strength of a bull. This ground technique was called a rear-naked choke. Usually, it was a technique that stopped the blood from flowing into the brain around the neck, causing the opponent to faint. Mu Ssangs strength didnt simply stop the blood flow; it managed to break the neck bone. Crack Kaaaaao The animals dying cry followed the sound of its breaking neck. Dieeeee! Mu Ssang cleared his hazy vision and gathered the last of his strength to kill the beast. Crack Strength seeped out of the beast. He released his arms that had been choking the beast and punched the center of its head as hard as he could. It was a stone fist that could break apart stalactite. Craaack He could feel the skull breaking underneath his fist. Kaang It wasnt a roar but the last of its voice. He could smell the animals urine from where he stood. The beasts head rolled. Ahhhhhack! he screamed crazily as he lifted the beast then threw it on the ground. Silence descended in the cave where the beast and man had once shouted. Mu Ssang also lay crumpled to the floor. Chapter 3 Mu Ssang lay on the floor of the cave and stared blankly at the ceiling. He could hear drops of water falling. Its the cave, he sighed. Now, he was used to the coldness of the cave. He didnt know how much time had passed nor how long he had slept, but his head was clearer now than it had been for a long time. I need to live! he shouted at the top of his lungs. He couldnt track the passing of time inside the cave because his circadian rhythm was completely off balance. He couldnt even tell whether it was summer or winter. He had lived a hard life but had tried his best. Why did I have to end up this way? he wondered. His brain and heart began to pound because of this injustice and his anger. What did I do for you to torment me like this? His sorrowful shout echoed around the cave. He punched his fists into the air and jumped around, kicking and screaming. He felt wronged. All he wanted was to do was study and find his mother so that they could live as they had before. But the damned heathens didnt leave him alone. He spewed curses and lamentations before collapsing on the floor. SH*T! When he calmed down, reality hit. He had realized when he saw the medical instruments and a girls corpse in the room, that he wasnt dealing with normal people. They were like the 731st region of the Japanese army, and he was like a Maruta Experiment. Before his brain was completely picked apart and his stomach ravaged, he had to attack. Mu Ssang felt his heartbeat quicken. These guys acted so much like an evil organization; he had to be careful. That man calling himself a priest was crazy. Ahh! It began again, that pain that ran throughout his head and tore it apart. Ever since he had gone through the fourth needle experiment, it had become worse. It was a pain he couldnt stand. Mu Ssang clutched his head and rolled around. He felt that he could laugh if he was merely being burned by a hot iron. But the pain of his brain being melted from the inside wasnt something any human could bear. After rolling around for some time, he lay exhausted on the ground. His heaving breath finally found its normal rhythm. The foam that had gathered in his mouth dripped out. F*ck this sh*t, he mumbled tiredly. *** Fortunately, before he lost consciousness, the secret door to the cave opened. And just as one of the assistants stepped into the cave, he swept over him like a predator, grabbed scissors from the mans lab coat pocket, and stabbed them into his neck. At 20 centimeters long, the scissors were sharper than a knife. They buried into the assistant without resistance, passing through the sternocleidomastoid muscle, tearing the carotid artery and larynx, and appearing on the other side. Ggrrk. The assistant had little chance to retaliate, but he was an abnormal opponent. As the food tray clattered to the floor, the assistant wrapped his hands around Mu Ssangs neck. Kuk! The enemys thumb and forefinger dug into Mu Ssangs vocal cords. He had forgotten that these assistants did not feel pain; hence, he was not in shock from being stabbed. Mu Ssang was about to pay a high price for his lack of attention. The assistants power was surprising. Mu Ssangs breath was immediately cut off, and his eyes turned dark. He gathered all his strength before pulling out the scissors stuck in the assistants neck and jamming them between his third and fourth ribs where the heart was. The scissors were instantly buried up to the handles. The assistant, staggering with blood in his mouth, fell backward. This altercation in the darkness ended without a single shout. It was his first murder, and the fact that he already had an escape route had truly been a stroke of luck. Haha! He had just exerted an explosive amount of power, and he attempted to calm his heaving breaths. His head was clearer, perhaps due to the rush of adrenaline or the blood pulsing through him. He wasnt shocked by this murder, as he expected, having read about murders in stories. Rather, he felt refreshed after achieving what he had set out to do. He had either gone crazy or had become desensitized after experiencing so much pain. He felt as if a different component of himself was controlling his limbs. His eyes turned red and power surged throughout his body. There were still many enemies left. Thinking of the priest, anger raged in his head. Mu Ssang, frowning, left the cave through the door, finally escaping into the outside world. He looked up at the sky. It was a dark night without a moon. If it had been out, its light could have reflected off the snow, revealing his position. The darkness worked in his favor. The surroundings were silent except for the cries of a fox that shook the air. The snow shone subtly in the starlight. Im out! He breathed in the fresh, cold air, filling his lungs. His mind became more alert, and he remembered his task clearly. Kill! His command rang in his head. He approached the log house like a shadow. He knew its structure: four rooms, a living room, and a kitchen. The larger room was used by five assistants, and the room next to that was the infirmary. Chui Do Shiks office/bedroom was opposite the assistants room. Mu Ssang gathered his breath and relaxed his body. And, slowly, he recalled the memory of the Salix Koreensis forest from his childhood. The pretty leaves that shook and the howling sound as the wind passed between the trees, the white mushrooms that appeared shyly underneath the rot, the surface of the water that turned red during sunset, and the fish that jumped up. His tumultuous mind instantly calmed. He also abandoned his desire to kill the priest. He destroyed his intentions one by one. I am the wind. I am the silent and soft wind that barely tickles the ear, he thought. I am the grass. I am the weak grass that shakes with the most gentle wind, the weed that grows between rocks. I am a rock, the large boulder before the log house, the rock that is wet with dew. Mu Ssang became the wind, the grass, and the rock. Without realizing it, he had entered a realm of co-existence, existing yet non-existent. Mu Ssang had unknowingly reached the highest level of an assassins potential: living a non-existence. If Chui Do Shik, the successor of Higanshi Hongan-jis martial arts had learned about this, he would have been indignant and coughing up blood. Of course, this awareness was only temporary. The moment Mu Ssang regained his senses, this ascendance flew by like the wind. Chui Do Shiks door opened without a sound; it wasnt locked. Well, who would have dared approached Chui Do Shik? Mu Ssang held a stalactite in one hand and a scalpel in the other one. An illusion, he moved across the darkened room. The priest was lying on a tatami mat. Mu Ssang didnt even think of the priest as his target. Right now, he was an organism without intention. Like a programmed robot, Mu Ssang approached and pierced the priests neck with the stalactite. It was a movement without an ounce of hesitation. Kuk! Chui Do Shiks shout was weak due to his destroyed vocal cords. Mu Ssang woke from his trance at the priests shout. Blinking, he became confused. The stalactite had pierced the neck completely. He momentarily recalled the beef skewer his mom always handed him at the restaurant when he was younger. Hi Hiissss. Chui Do Shik glowered and bounced up like a dragon from a river. Mu Ssang, reading the situation, moved like the wind. Then the scalpel in his left hand entered Chui Do Shiks belly, just below the belly button, dug in up to the end of its handle. He had aimed for the chest, but Chui Do Shiks movements were fast. And Chui Do Shik couldnt handle the shock of a stalactite piercing his neck and a scalpel nearly buried inside his body. Chui Do Shiks body shook like a leaf, and blood foamed at his mouth. He lifted a finger and attempted to say something to Mu Ssang with his piercing gaze. But all that could be heard was the sound of air escaping his punctured neck. Blood leaked out of Chui Do Shiks neck. He had managed to stop the blood coming from his lower stomach, but even he couldnt do anything about the stalactite in his neck. A smile appeared on Mu Ssangs face knowing that this crazy bastard was about to die. He had managed to kill someone he had wanted to kill for such a long time. He had never felt such happiness for as long as he could remember. It was refreshing, an intense release from pent-up anger and hatred. Hows the feeling of becoming a pig for slaughter? It was something he had wished to say after the countless times he was tortured. The frustration of 10 years washed away. Chui Do Shik only kept glaring at him with bloodlust in his eyes, but he was not in a situation where he could talk. Oh, my ax! He noticed his wood ax in the corner of the room. He had to finish off people like Chui Do Shik properly. When Mu Ssang grabbed his ax, Chui Do Shiks eyes widened. Although he had received a fatal hit, Chui Do Shiks eyes did not change. Crash Chui Do Shik managed to throw his body against the unlocked door. He began passing through the doorway like a ghost. Ha! Mu Ssang, startled, swung his ax. The ax had been his friend ever since he was young. The techniques of creating a path through the forests of Chuk Ryung San and Bang Tae San were executed flawlessly. Scchnk The ax cut through the air. A few strands of Chui Do Shiks hair flew off as he ran through the doorway. The ax, which had swung horizontally, cleaved one of his arms like a tree branch. Kuk! Bang The closing door exploded outwards. Chui Do Shik left his arm and a scream behind as he disappeared into the darkness. At the situation before him, Mu Ssang stood blankly for a moment before moving. Tap Mu Ssang then plastered himself to the wall on the side of the door. And at that moment, an enemy came through the doorway. He reached out as far as he could with his right hand. Huk! The sound of expelled air rang out. The end of the stalactite had pierced the enemys neck. Despite the critical injury, the enemy slashed down with a metal pipe held in his hand. It was instinctive, but Mu Ssang had already predicted the counterattack. He whirled around, and the ax flew according to its trajectory. Bwwwack The enemys neck, which had been in the trajectory, and its attached head, flew up. Blood spurted up from the enemys body, a meter into the air. *** Huk! Mu Ssang jumped in his seat. Senses that were several-fold stronger than a normal human beings senses scouted the surroundings. They werent what he had been predicting, and it wasnt one of his usual morning hallucinations. And it definitely was not the cave. Haah! He sighed deeply. That damned dream, no, not a dream. That memory. It had been calm when he was receiving his teachings from his master, but it had started up once more. Did you have a nightmare? The old woman who was sitting beside him asked worriedly. She was an intelligent woman, fluent in English. Im sorry. Fine. Mu Ssang nodded his head. Youre sweating. Here, dry off. Thank you. He took the tissue that the old woman held up and wiped his face. His forehead and cheeks were wet with sweat. He held his palm to his nose and sniffed; it had blood on it but did not reek of iron. This dream-like experience continued. It was the process of undoing Chui Do Shiks conditioning and reclaiming his original memories. The suppressed memories would return when he rested. It was something that had been happening, periodically, for the past several years. Professor Giz had said that his original memories would all return to their proper places through this process. Mu Ssang pushed his buttocks deep into his seat and closed his eyes. His mood for sleep had evaporated instantly. The anxieties of the old woman beside him also became a burden. *** His meeting with his teacher had been anticlimactic. In the process of digging a hole in the forest in which to bury people alive, an approaching old man found him. The old man, who was as thin as paper, had hit him violently. It was a memory that made him smile. Martial Arts is the practice of boosting ones strength for a period of time. Its the effective use of a power that is different from the enemys power. The distributed power and even the breathing create the illusion of strength. So youre saying a martial arts practitioner is powerful on the outside, but everything else is a hoax? Glancing at his disappointed disciple, the old man continued his words. Thats not true. The human body is mysterious and can create its own waves once trained continuously. What we call ki is also a part of those waves. Perhaps calling it inner strength is more accurate. I have managed to gather quite a bit. Are you familiar with Resonance? Its a situation where two high frequencies collide and create an explosion, but how do you know that? Mu Ssang was fascinated. After all, his master only had the sutras as reading material, so his mention of a physics theory was strange. I see you only think of me as some old man who memorizes sutras every day. I know things, you hear? Now, where did I leave off? Resonance. Ugh, you brat. Im over 80 years old. When Im interrupted, my train of thought goes, as well. Resonance is energy. It creates a bridge between martial arts and its techniques. Im trying to say that waves will be created from simple, fast, and precise movements. The most representative of this is Tong Bei Quan that uses the obstacles in its path to create Resonance and destroy what is within. Words like Ge Shan Da Niu and Sword Ki are all legendary moves those practitioners had created after realizing this. Mu Ssang pushed his face forward as if to hit his master. His curiosity was aroused. So youre saying that martial arts practitioners arent all liars. That itself is a lie. A human isnt a machine, so how could a human revolve their ki or change the inside of their body according to their will? So youre saying that if I manage to command Resonance and strength, I can become a master. Besides, in this day and age where guns are common, martial arts is all but a sport. Who would train themselves in one place for decades? One bullet is enough. Training is a waste of time. How do you bring Resonance out? You grow your ki and train so that the ki matches your opponents wavelength. I dont get it. Obviously. Brat, if you could learn of all that through just words, then everyone in this world would become masters. You can train and see for yourself. What about the dantians? Nonsense. Resonance is from the brain. Its inborn or caused by some special experience or earned by some special training. Brainwaves can be exaggerated by training the body. The body and brain dont operate separately; training the body means training the brain. The Combined Receptive Expelling Theory is the claim that you can make your brainwaves as strong as a rope and as hard as a metal bat. When you reach the peak, you will be capable of controlling your opponents brainwaves. Of course, a human is incapable of reaching such a peak, but if you keep training with that goal in mind, youll be able to make something similar to a physical Resonance. How long do I need to train? Youd be able to use it in about 50 years. Whaaat! Fiffifty years? That frightened and discouraged him. What could he do when he was 70? In the end, he wouldnt be able to achieve Resonance but would be able to learn the Five Combined Movements and still achieve great physical strength. Thinking about the terrifying and powerful Combined Receptive Expelling Theory made his head hurt. Bang bam A delightful, French marching bands music resounded inside the plane. Mu Ssang flinched out of his musings. The old womans expression turned from anxiousness into relief. He was sorry and embarrassed. How uncomfortable she must have been sitting next to a guy with a few screws loose! He had been drifting in and out of the flow of time and was thrown into Paris Charles de Gaulle airport all the way across the globe. It had taken 25 hours in flight, including the layover in Singapore. And that was the fastest flight Hamilton could get for him. Peu de temps aprs nos passagers alors que lavion arrive laroport de Paris. Ceinture de scurit. (Passengers, we will be arriving at the Paris airport in a few moments. For your security.) With this fast-paced French introduction, he suddenly wondered if he would ever hear Korean again. His chest swelled in frustration. Mu Ssang found the information center in the terminal, and with his insufficient English and limited French, he asked where he could find the foreign military police detachment. Foreign military members were sent there to serve. All he knew was a handful of French greetings. Bonjour, monsieur! (Hello, sir!) Es-tu Chinois? (Are you Chinese?) Non, je suis Coreen. (No, Im Korean.) Comment-appelez vous? (Whats your name?) Je mappelle Mu Ssang, Park. (My name is Park Mu Ssang.) Est-ce que vous aimez le legion? (Do you like the legion?) Oui, beaucoup. (Yes, a lot.) Quest ce que ton motif pour le legion? (What was your motive for the legion?) En aborration de la terre. (In abhorrence of the earth.) Haha, il est drole. (Haha, this guys funny.) At his answer, the officer twisted his lips and laughed. Are you mocking me? Should I kill you off here and now? Mu Ssang whined. The conversation between Mu Ssang and this Legion Etranger soldier ended here. There was no way to understand or speak to each other beyond this. The rest was simply done with body language. At the end of his examination, the soldier gave a thumbs-up. Ha, what the hell, is he swearing at my face? Mu Ssang frowned. Chapter 4 Mu Ssangs mood soured. The officer most likely wouldnt be laughing out of goodwill; he must be mocking him. Mu Ssang had misunderstood. The international force received applications from all over the world, but they never considered language barriers much of a problem. Asian applicants were usually Chinese or half-Chinese. That was the reason why the guard had asked if he was Chinese. Mu Ssang completed the application and was immediately transported to the nearest military division where, over the next three days, he was examined for diseases and signs of drug abuse. On the fourth day, he was flown to Marseille Provence airport with four other applicants. A Jeep was waiting for them outside the airport to take them to Aubagne International Central Headquarters, 15 kilometers east of Marseille. At the headquarters, they examined his psychological state, gave him an IQ test, a physical, and subjected him to two weeks of orientation. The qualifications for Legion Etranger were strict. Only 20 percent of those who applied passed the tests and training to earn the Kepi Blanc (white hat). Amongst the 60 people who gathered at the headquarters, most were disqualified at the background check or testing stage. Only 15 would go on to the Ecole (School) of Castelnau Bridge and receive the Kepi Blanc. Mu Ssang was 182-centimeters tall and weighed 75 kilograms. He was tall for an Asian, but here, he was considered small. The white and black candidates were usually around 190-centimeters tall, so he disappeared among them. Hey, monkey, move. A huge black man with a wrinkled nose pushed him out of the way with his huge, rock-like shoulder. Mu Ssang pushed down his temper. When he didnt react, others were tempted to intimidate him. A yellow-bearded man grabbed the back of his neck and pushed. Mu Ssang gathered his balance in the lower half of his body and resisted. When he didnt move, standing like a boulder, the yellow-bearded mans hand moved. Tup His palms were now caught in Mu Ssangs hand. He pressed down. Craack It was the sound of bones shattering. Aarrrgh! yellow beards shout resounded across the grounds. You bastards, mind your manners. Im trying to be nice. Got it? Mu Ssang turned around with his sharp gaze, and the larger candidates around him disbanded in a hurry. You p*ssies! He had left his hometown because it was such a dirty place, but it seemed like wherever he went, people were the same. They picked on the weak. Legion Etranger did not pay that well. The salary was around the same as that of manual laborers in France. On top of that, they had to buy the necessary materials. Even the machinery they were given was basic. Accessories and additional parts had to be purchased with ones own money. In other words, they were underpaid. Nonetheless, there were plenty of applicants. Some were lured by the romance of the military, and some were applying as a way to put food on the table. Anyways, there were lots of applicants: Arabs, East Asians, Africans, and South Americans they all flooded in. Most had been living in harsh conditions. In becoming a soldier for Legion Etranger, the most important components were identity checks and physical tests. The physical test was the next key step. The first test was a 20-minute run since running was the basic measure of ones physical strength. They had to run the perimeter of the training grounds, which was around 800 meters. Then the examiners decided that instead of choosing to set a distance goal for the time limit, they were going to see how far the applicants could run in the time given. Those who failed this running test would have to pack their bags and leave. The examiners, called EVs, were strict. Bang With the signal, these healthy men started the run; they were like bulls being released into a rodeo arena. Mu Ssang got out ahead of the pack from the very beginning. He didnt want to be between those tall men. He was a man who used to run with two truck tires tied to his waist, so he would be comfortable running around the training grounds for three days and four nights. This test was like childs play to him. He carelessly ran at a speed that was slightly faster than the others paces. He ran the first lap, and from the second lap onwards, the men were lined up behind him like ants in search of food. By the fourth lap, many dropped out. Mu Ssang passed the back of the line on his fourth lap. The enlisting officer, also a warrant officer, Collogne Aschdanchef, pushed up the brim of his hat and narrowed his eyes. A strong Asian was running past the last group of enlistees. He clicked his tongue and assumed that Mu Ssang was one of those foolish ones who didnt make considerations for long-term running and the consequences of giving their all from the beginning. Such people usually led the run for a while but eventually dropped out sooner than the others. Disinterested, Collogne looked at the files in his hand. Collogne later turned his attention back to the training grounds and tilted his head. The Asian was still in the lead and running at a constant pace. Collogne called for the officer with the list. Corporal. Oui! Whos the one in the lead? Hes the South Korean, Park, the corporal who remembered his face pulled out his documents. Korean? Korean mafia! Oui! The mafia that Collogne talked about wasnt a crime organization. Korean applicants were rare. Throughout the entire Legion Etranger, there were only ten. But despite their small numbers, Koreans trained themselves harshly and banded together tightly, earning the nickname mafia. While they were talking, the Korean passed the end of the line twice. Collognes eyes, which observed the Korean, glinted. Contrary to the rhythmical movements of his lower body, his upper body was stable. It was as if springs were attached to his feet, as he ran like a horse stomping the ground. Ha, hes the real deal, Collogne was impressed. It seemed as if there would be a record-breaker for the first time in a long time. There were rare times when such a genius entered the Legion. It was worth keeping an eye on that Korean. Mon dieu, cest pas vrai! Collognes mouth, after reading the report from the corporal, fell open. The Korean had run 9,900 meters in 20 minutes. The average run of the enlistees was 6800 meters. Even that was beyond normal. This record was one that not even the most world-famous marathon runner could boast. Collogne became excited. Here was a monster in his reach. There was no need to run any more tests. Hahaha, Pieff is going to drool over him, he thought of his friend, Captain Pieff, who was working as the commander of the Ecole of Castelnau Bridge. His nickname was The Collector. He was a commander who brought anyone that he deemed a genius onto his team. He grinned, thinking of his friend who would do anything to have this Korean as his soldier. If Collogne knew that Mu Ssang was dedicating very minimal effort to the test, his expression would have been quite a sight. Mu Ssang ended the other tests at a level that would not stand out: 100-meter swimming, 10-meter diving, push-ups, sit-ups, six-meter rope walking, etc. He actually had tried his best in the swimming test but only ended up with a score in the middle of the pack since he could only dog-paddle. The only problem with the other tests were the foreign language and culture sections. All that had evolved in Mu Ssang, after meeting the skull on Wol Song San, was his physical strength. He had no problem with the food. He had once eaten rotten larvae and had centipedes as his main dish in the cave. There was nothing he couldnt eat. He did miss the spicy Kimchi stew and sweet bean paste soup that his mother used to make, but he could be satisfied with the food given in the Aubagne headquarters. In fact, it was too grand for a country boy like him. On his first day at Aubagne, Mu Ssang was confused by the several types of bottles before him on the cafeteria table. He had thought that they were miniature table decorations. But once he learned that they were various sauces used to spread or sprinkle on food or dip food into, he realized he was experiencing culture shock. The only Korean sauces that he knew were bean paste, soy sauce, and pepper paste. If necessary, there was also Makjang, Jipjang, and chili paste. The French, however, seemed to have a sauce for everything. Countless sauces for unknown purposes left his head whirling. The headquarters restaurant wasnt Michelin graded since it was just a cafeteria. Despite that, the fresh vegetables, meats, fruits, and seafood were satisfying. Mu Ssang was used to unexpected meals after a period of starvation. So often, he was used to taking a risk to be fed; he was accustomed to being more desperate than a hyena to end his hunger. And because his taste buds had often been deprived, most foods elicited praise from him. He wasnt picky about his food, at all. Even the military cafeteria food was heavenly to him. He wasnt, however, able to sample the representative foods of France, such as escargot, foie gras, and truffles. Despite that, he was happy with French food. He patted himself on the back for choosing a French base. There were some foods served by the cafeteria that he especially enjoyed: ratatouille, bouillabaisse, crepes, and Coq au Vin. The strange names were hard to remember, but the fact that he did recall them was proof that he liked them. Ratatouille was made with eggplants, tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, squash, and several other herbal ingredients sauted in olive oil. It was perfect to eat with a baguette or sandwich. Bouillabaisse was made with a white fish broth, similar to a shabu-shabu. Crab, shrimp, oysters, tomato, asparagus, white wine, and olive oil were thrown in with it, then it was boiled, and seasoned with salt and pepper. It was the only seafood he was able to digest as he didnt like fish oil, but it was disguised in this concoction. The crepes were a dish where cheese, meat, and several vegetables were sandwiched in a pancake. The Coq au Vin was a chicken and vegetable dish boiled in wine, a very traditional French food. It was similar to the Korean Dak-Dori-tang. His body was in France, but his mind and taste were helplessly Korean. He sought out food that was similar to the food he had eaten in his hometown. When else could a country boy eat such dishes? His wish, after being stuck at his uncles house at the age of nine, was to eat whatever he wanted. He had become even more attached to food after his body underwent the change in the cave. He was satisfied, if not sometimes overwhelmed, by French food. Compared to French food, Korean food could be considered simple. He wanted to show these foods to his master who was stubborn about his dedication to natural, simple dishes. Mu Ssangs wish of eating well was achieved in France, several thousand kilometers away from home. He had never been good at studying, but he had naturally taken an interest in food and had researched a little himself. He could discern some differences between cooking skills: Frances innumerable ingredients and extravagant cooking style were a tier higher than Koreas cooking style. The tastes were quite distinct. In the History of Food, written by Jean-Louis Flandrin, was a section where he learned more about the various types of sauces and one of the first sauces used. In the 15th Century, French people used a green sauce on their meat. The recipe for this green sauce was strange: one teaspoon of oil was added to every ten teaspoons of vinegar. It was, in fact, diluted plain vinegar rather than a sauce. If someone ate meat with the green sauce, today, they certainly would detest the flavor. Koreans have little tolerance for sour flavors. Accustomed to spicy and salty flavors, their taste buds are sensitive to sweet and sour flavors. Even Mu Ssang, who wasnt picky about his food, would have run to the bathroom after eating that 15th-century green sauce alongside a charcuterie (slices of cured meats) with which it would have been served. Even the seasonings were similar to the sauce. Cloves are herbs with a caramel scent but a stronger smell and taste than pepper. The book explained that 80 grams of clove seasoning were used in one chicken in the 14th century. 15 stems of cloves were needed to make 1 gram of the seasoning, which meant that at least 1,200 stems were used for one chicken. It was the type of food that only upper-class French society in the middle ages could afford to enjoy in their obsessive desire for delicious food. Mu Ssang was astounded by that recipe since 80 grams of pepper in one chicken would make a person faint and leave them in tears. Imagine eating 80 grams of cloves, stronger than pepper in taste, in one chicken. It was death, he thought. Thank goodness that the cafeteria uses only around 0.2g of cloves in one chicken. To him, it seemed as if the taste buds of the middle ages were in a different dimension all to themselves. However, these differences in tastes could be found across regions in Asia. Koreans didnt like Chinese food that was full of oil and grease, and Chinese people complained about how plain Korean foods were. No one could judge another cultures dish by their cultural standards, nor were they qualified to do so. Each food had a history and culture attached to it. Although it might not meet a persons standards, it was polite to savor the food. Eating the same food as others and enjoying it also created a way to bring people closer together. Being happy with rice and fighting for anything to eat as a child, Mu Ssang the adult easily became accustomed to French food. Because of his adeptness in acclimatizing to his new culture, he might be considered a mannerly gentleman. *** The foundation of humanity was communication. Wasnt the infamous cause of failure in human civilization the miscommunication in the building the tower of Babel? Mu Ssang felt the wall of miscommunication in his first two weeks at Aubagne. He didnt know the meeting times, was always in a hurry, and got lost trying to find the restroom. When he had opened up the introductory brochure, the words were merely black marks on white paper. He felt deeply that communication was a primary part of human survival, and here he lacked the ability. But it was too late to lament not studying French. How could he have known that he would end up in France after all he had been swept up in by fate? Ten days before going to France, he had begun his study of the French language. But the academic skills that most university students in Korea possessed didnt help him. French flew rapidly over his head like a song. He couldnt understand a sentence. The language traveled a distance between his ears and brain that was as far as the distance between France and Korea. All he heard was -en, -on, -gne, -ain, -chon, -ang, and -ing. He couldnt tell much of a difference. Shouldnt I be able to hear distinct things before understanding them? he wondered and was about to burst from frustration. The black and white European applicants could understand basic French. He, a yellow applicant, felt a sharp awareness of racial prejudice. After a while, he learned how the black and the white trainees could understand French. Many of them had been born in French-speaking regions of Africa or were French. His perceived shortcomings had no connections to prejudice or to him being Asian and having been born on a different continent. But even so, he wasnt able to get rid of his awareness. Including him, there were 10 of them who couldnt understand Frenchall of the Asians trainees. It didnt help, either, that the French instructor lacked teaching skills. He made them memorize words and didnt care about their level of comprehension. He implied that they had to study the language themselves. At this rate, he wasnt going to understand someone shouting, Get down! and would be hit by an incoming bullet. Mu Ssang became fiercely determined. From 6 pm to midnight, he spent all his energy on learning French. It was only through communication that he could fit in and then get ahead of others. To survive in a place so far from home, he had to at least start talking. Fortunately, there were English pronunciations listed in the textbook, which helped him memorize the words. He spent the same energy he had used in fighting the leopard to fight for his communication skills. *** Even when he was on the toilet, his French flashcards didnt leave his hands. Je faim. (Im hungry.) Jaime ?a. (I like this.) Ou sont les toilettes? (Where is the toilet?) Un restaurant bon march. (A cheap restaurant.) Parlez-vous anglais? (Do you speak English?) Est-ce que je peut fumer ici? (Can I smoke here?) Quest que ce? (What is this?) Cest vraiment dlicieux. (Its very tasty.) Merci beaucoup. (Thank you.) Hahaha! He could hear laughter in the stall next to him. It was the teacher of the French classes. He was embarrassed that he had heard him, but he couldnt dwell on it. Korean, youre working hard, the teacher said, laughing and slapping Mu Ssangs shoulder during class. He also gave him some additional basic language materials and dictionaries. Among new food, a new language, black and white faces, and healthier physiques, Mu Ssang knew that he was in an entirely different world. Several EVs complained that their schedules were too harsh. But Mu Ssang had never had a military life before. He couldnt tell whether it was harsh or lax. All he could tell was that the day-to-day life in Aubagne was relaxing for him. After checking in at 6 am, they went immediately to eat petit djeuner (breakfast). They began their morning exercises at 7:30 and began their djeuner at twelve. They began their training at 14:00 once more, and their dinner came at 18:00. Then they had free time before going to bed at 21:30. If anyone felt this was a rigorous lifestyle, they must have been from the Tang dynastys military. He could eat food that was nutritious and tasty, receive elementary physical training, relax with cool-down exercises, and go to sleep on a comfortable bed. It could be heaven for him except for the communication issue. But he still felt that he could sing the gyeog-yang-ga praises and shout about how satisfied he was. Aside from training and education, there were also outside activities. The curriculum also included working at the Legion Etranger museum and volunteering at the retirement center. It wasnt a boring life, after all. The Legion Etranger retirement center was 60 kilometers north of Aubagne, in Puyloubier. There were about 250 retired soldiers there. They had received their pensions and were living in peaceful retirement. Here, there were full-time doctors to care for them and also a cemetery. It was heaven for soldiers in their old age. The houses had two or three stories and were designed so that air and sunlight could come in easily. The retirees made commemorative objects connected to their days at Legion Etranger and took care of a vineyard, enjoying their days. The wine they made was given to the new soldiers or was sold for an affordable price. The facilities and atmosphere of the retirement village made one wish to remain there for the rest of his life. MuSsang wanted to talk to those retired soldiers but couldnt since he didnt even know more than basic phrases in French, and, therefore, he could only dream of talking to them one day. The retirees received this amazing treatment because the Legion Etranger wasnt some average mercenary group. The Legion Etranger had been created as a part of the French military, a central force to fight for France. The members served under French military rules for the 5 years of their contract. They were immediately punished for going against the rules or stepping out of line. Normally, mercenaries were people who received money to fight on behalf of others. They could be soldiers or guards who moved according to their pay and reward. All there was between a mercenary the person who hired them was money. The mercenary was hired, they completed their assignment by any means, received a reward, and moved on. Once the money was exchanged, that was the end of the relationship. Bluntly put, it was an act of putting ones life on the line for money. Therefore, yesterdays employer could be the mercenarys target tomorrow. The mercenaries were part of a private unit. They couldnt become nationalistic, nor did an individuals belief or an organizations goal come under consideration. Mercenaries had to protect themselves since they couldnt be protected under the Geneva Convention if held hostage. Usually, once a mercenary was captured as a hostage, they were assassinated for not doing their job. Soldiers in the Legion Etranger were considered mercenaries since they received money for their services, but they were also a part of the French military. So they were protected by the Geneva Convention and were loyal to France. Simply put, they were a main military unit that was paid to fight. On Friday of the third week, the remaining 15 trainees boarded the train for Castelnau Bridge. The Ecole (school) where they would be training was southwest from where there were, just north of the Pyrenees mountain range. Other members who had passed and become EVs also boarded the train. Considering that most of the members were previously part of special forces or in the military, the competition was a bit skewed. Mu Ssang arrived at the Ecole but had to wait for another week to begin the training. It was because they reorganized members every two weeks. His neighbor had once said that the military was all about waiting, and it was true. The week was a repeat of eating, sleeping, and waiting. Mu Ssang kept boredom at bay by choosing a new menu for every meal. Today, he chose steak as his dejeuner. At his first lunch date with Hae Young, he ordered the steak. Back then, Western food was trending, and steak was the best Western food being offered. The restaurant he went to in Dae-gu dongsungro had been disappointing, though. Mu Ssang wasnt picky, but his taste buds were sensitive. Back then, the steak he had eaten was the price of ten black noodle bowls. But he didnt feel half as satisfied by the steak compared to what he would have felt if he had eaten the black noodles. He had sliced away at the steak saying that it was delicious, but inside, he was extremely disappointed. The meat hadnt retained any of its juices, so it was tough. At the same time, a chemical-like smell of the seasonings resonated. His expectations set him up for a letdown. Since then, he considered steak horrible food. Of course, it was never on the menu in the places he usually ate, so he never had to eat it again. One expects expensive food to be worth the price. So, of course, he was angry, since it wasnt any tastier than neighborhood market food. Yeok-juns garak noodles gave him 1000W worth of satiation. When word of great-tasting food spreads, a restaurant becomes a well-known place and is constantly filled with people. Such a restaurants food should give the diner their moneys worth of flavor. Anything less than that, and the restaurant would gain only curses from the customers. The customer always wants quality that matches the price. No one was going to complain that some cheap sauces were used for the tteok bok gi bought from a neighborhood cart. No one was going to be mad at a cook for using a shortening sauce in black noodles. Both were cheap foods, and the customer didnt expect high-quality from cheap food. So, Mu Ssang hadnt eaten steak at Aubagne. But his misconceptions about steak were rectified once he tried the steak at Castelnau Bridge. There, steak was amazingly delicious food. The tenderloin was the most expensive cut of beef. From a 600-kilogram steer, only 10 kilograms of tenderloin could be made. The steak that he had eaten at Dongsungro was not tenderloin. They might have used sheep meat treated with tenderizers. The juicy tenderloin was immensely delicious. The mustard sauce blended with the medium-rare steak to create a sweet and salty combination. Since he loved the food, the Legion Etrangers cafeteria at Castelnau Bridge was heaven. Mu Ssang ate five servings of steak before enjoying his full belly. The steak was so tender that it had melted in his mouth. He wanted to learn how to make it so that he could make it for his master. Ha! Mu Ssang shouted in surprise. Did he really want to make it for his master instead of Hae Young? Was his love for Jeong stronger than romantic love? Only a year had passed, but his overwhelming emotions had calmed down. He couldnt decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. Perhaps it was because he had meditated for a year with the wooden fish. Was Hae Young doing well in the States? he wondered, and his heart suddenly constricted. Enjoying the break, some trainees were being rowdy and some were relaxing on the grass in front of the dorms. Jang Shing, the tall Chinese guy from Aubagne, was laying on the grass dozing. He had gotten to know Jang Shin. China was a communist country, so it was an enemy of the Korean Republic, but there was no such feeling between this Korean and this Chinese national in the foreign legion. The Legion Etranger was funded by the French government. Loyalty for their motherlands meant nothing. And theres Talko, Jjakgwi, Suka? Seems like therell be trouble again, he said to himself, noting the rowdy bunch on the grass. Mu Ssang frowned. Chapter 5 He didnt know their names, so he gave them nicknames. The person with the red nose was Red-Nose, the person whose ear had been torn in a wrestling match was Odd-Ear, and the one with a huge scar on his forehead was Scar. Whenever people gathered, there were always those who created trouble. Legion Etranger was a gathering of all sorts of people, not only of various races, religions, and sexual orientations, but there was bound to be those who were rough and dirty among them. Three large, Slavic, white men swaggered across the lawn. The sign prohibited walking across the lawn but seemed only to apply to those who were right in their heads. On the trios path was Jang Shin. Theyre going to start something, Mu Ssang thought. These three were always together and already had a reputation for being troublemakers. Considering this, he felt as if they might do something to Jang Shin. Mu Ssang watched these three men who were talking loudly. As expected, they stopped then pointed at the dozing Jang Shin and chuckled. ܧݧܧ ݧ֧ ܧݧܧ ٧ڧ, ֧ܧڧߧܧѧ ܧ! (Long time no see, Peking Duck!) Scar said in a high-pitched voice. Coolie, ֧- ҧ֧ܧڧ֧? ߧѧҧѧ ާ֧ݧ! (Coolie, are you worried? Have some courage!) Red-Nose smacked the back of Jang Shins head. , ߧ ԧѧ ֧ԧ, ӧ ҧէ֧ ٧ѧѧا֧ߧ ӧ ҧ֧٧ߧ. (Hey, dont touch him, you might get infected with monkey lice.) Odd-Ear pretended to stop Red-Nose as he twisted Jang Shins ear. Mu Ssang didnt know a word of Russian, but he understood the derogatory words for Chinese people, like Peking Duck (a Chinese food), coolie (laborer), and ching-chong. In Legion Etranger, the Chinese had a bad reputation. It was because several of them avoided battles and wanted to become caterers. Legion Etranger was a combat unit, so those who joined it intending to become a caterer deserved to be hated. It kind of made sense, then, that the term Peking Duck was a nickname used for the Chinese. Koreans used the derogatory word Chankola for the Chinese. That term was not used in the Legion, however. Chinese and Koreans were assembled in a place where there were foreigners around them, so in that position, there was an atmosphere of goodwill to help one another. Chankola was a word that had crossed over to Korea from Japan. During the Qing dynasty, a Korean diplomat submitted himself to the emperor as a slave. The Japanese heard of this incident and started calling Koreans Qing-guk-no (slaves of Qing). Qing-guk-no in China translated to zhanggu, which turned into Chan qo ro in Japanese, and once that crossed back over to Korea, it had morphed into Chankola. One historical incident that undermined national pride created a label for future generations. Japan had turned Korea into a colony by chasing out the Chinese and Russians; they developed a sense of superiority. The Japanese called their people first-class citizens, the Koreans second-class citizens, and the Chinese pigs. The derogatory word that the Chinese used for Koreans was Bangzi, also from the Japanese. After conquering the southeast, the Japanese had the Koreans attack the Chinese. It was their way of forming a division between the two races. The Chinese also called Koreans Gao Li Bang Zi, which meant Goryeos leftovers. Either way, Korea had troublesome neighbors on both sides. Past and present, Koreans were riddled with emotional baggage created by the neighboring countries. At Castelnau Bridge, there were two Japanese soldiers. Neither Mu Ssang nor Jang Shin interacted with them. Because of history, Japan was viewed as the attacker and Korea and China as victims. The problems between the three countries wasnt something time could fix. The terms that Koreans used for the Japanese werent simply profanity; they were full of resentment, hatred, and revenge. The hatred between Korea, Japan, and China had its origins deep in their history. It wasnt something that could be resolved politically. Ahh! Jang Shin shouted from the pain. Oh, honey, how sexy. Say it louder. Jang Shins narrow eyes raged with hatred. Asians eyes were narrower and longer than Europeans, and his eyes were a bit more exaggerated in that aspect. The others felt as if they were being glared at. It was a feature that unintentionally started fights. When Jang Shin glared at Pomsky, he was insulted. Pomsky was a wrestler, born in Ukraine and was bulky: over 2 meters tall and 120 kilograms heavy. Pomsky considered himself a predator. When an opponent looked weak, he immediately began a fight. He liked displaying his strength by watching the other cave in and beg. Hey, Peking duck, quack. Odd-ear Pomsky slapped the back of Jang Shins head with his big palm. Jang Shins head bobbed back and forth. Tsk, like rats, there are bullies everywhere, Mu Ssang said under his breath. The members of the Odd-Ear group were acting no different from the bullies he knew back in Korea. Mu Ssang couldnt stand by any longer. Agh! Crash In anger, Jang Shins elbow dug into Pomskys chest while he pulled his sleeve forward. Then he flipped Pomsky up into the air and watched him crash into the ground. Pomsky, who had been a wrestler, had a strongly built body, so he shook away the dizziness with a few shakes of his head. ܧ, ܧۧߧڧ. Odd-ears face turned red. Wang ba dan, ѧܧߧ ѧ! (*ssh*le, shut the F*ck up!) Since the people here had been gathered from all over the world, swear words also varied in languages. But even Mu Ssang could understand Wang ba dan. Pomsky bent the upper half of his body and ran at Jang Shin like a boar. Red-Nose and Scar attacked from behind and the front. Jang Shin also ran forward into Pomskys chest. He turned on his heels and elbowed Pomskys ribs. It was a Wing Chun move. Pomsky felt the hit and, instead of leaning backward, advanced further. Wing Chuns movements had high impact but minimal range. Pomskys knees gave out when he received a blow to his ribs, but he grabbed Jang Shins waist as he fell. Red-Nose and Odd-Ear gathered, and the Chinese man was buried by their big frames. Bang crash The fight continued. Jang Shin resisted, but there was a great difference in strength. After all, he was fighting three-to-one. Even a master of Wing Chun had no way out of this fight. He had been tackled by Pomsky after letting his guard down. Ugh, that idiot! Mu Ssang clicked his tongue. Wing Chun was a martial art based on short, direct, and powerful attacks. Even his master admitted that the Wing Chun had some of the strongest combat movements. It involved a series of skills and stances. Because the attacks were short and powerful, a confrontation could end quickly. If Jang Shin wanted to have the biggest impact, he should have run farther into his opponents range and then attacked. He should have shown a determination to break even his own bones. It was his mistake to put distance between himself and the trio, a lack of experience. If he had ignored the other two and brought down Pomsky, the situation could have been reversed. Pomsky got on top of Jang Shin. The 120-kilogram giant crushed Shins 60-kilogram body underneath him. All that remained was a beating. The sight of a small Chinese man being crushed under a huge body was beyond pitiful as well as absurd. Jang Shin used his flexible body to attack Pomsky with his elbows and wrists, but Pomsky just grinned a mocking smile. There were no grounding moves in Wing Chun, so there was no impact from the attacks where the lower body was unsupported. Mu Ssang grew annoyed by the trios actions, but he didnt want to cause a ruckus within the Legion. He had been alone since 9, had fought off a huge snake, a leopard, and had even killed people. But he did not want to get involved with those bullies. Men grow closer through fists. Oh, sh*t! He didnt want to interfere, but the situation was getting worse. Odd-Ear started to hit relentlessly, and blood spurt from Jang Shins face. This was beyond a simple fistfight. Blood was gushing from Odd-Ears nose, and he was frustrated by being hit by a small Asian. Red-Nose and Scar held down Jang Shins hands and feet so that he couldnt move. They made a lot of sound, but the training officers couldnt be seen anywhere. No one was around to stop them. The trainees werent going to step in. It was boring being stationed, so no one was going to stop such an exciting event. The trainees chose sides and cheered on the fight. Some even took out money and started making bets. Jang Shins face turned into something unrecognizable. His nose was crooked and his lips were cut. He was Chinese, but Mu Ssang had become close friends with him, and he did not want to see him being hurt any longer. Bang Mu Ssangs body leaped forward. He covered 10 meters in an instant. You bastard, youre dead, Pomsky said as he pulled back Mu Ssangs arm as far as it could go. He figured that with one good pounding, the monkey was as good as dead. Huh? He launched his fist with all his might, but he missed. Pomskys confusion didnt last, and a grieving shout erupted. Crrack Aaaagh! Mu Ssangs palm slapped Odd-Ears cheeks as if he was cleaving down with an ax. Odd-Ear, whose face had whipped to the side, attacked with a back-blow. He knew how to fight. Urrrgh! Odd-Ears eyes turned white. With one hit, his 120-kilogram body lost consciousness, and he fell back, powerless. Pomsky! What the hell is this guy? Red-Nose and Scar sat up, surprised. Whirrrrl A diagonal attack hit Red-Noses stomach, and he fell back like a squash ball. Mu Ssang attacked Scar with his rear foot on his carotid, after sensing Scar behind him. It was, quite literally, hitting two birds with one stone. Cough! Ack! Screams exploded on both sides. Red-Nose fell forward, and Scar fell like a log before they knew what was happening. Only a few seconds had passed since Mu Ssang leaped out of his seat, but this exchange had literally ended in the blink of an eye. A silence passed for a moment across the field. WOW! erupted out of the watchers mouths. The attack was strong and fast with moves from one of the highest forms of martial arts. The onlookers were enjoying this interesting event that they were privy to simply because they had signed up to be in a foreign legion. Although they each had their own special martial arts or hand-to-hand combat skills, they had never seen such movements. Tsk! Weakling, Mu Ssang clicked his tongue again and grabbed Jang Shin. Jang Shins face was covered with blood. His head, as small as a childs head, had been pounded for a long time. There was no way his face could look normal. Mu Ssang grabbed the half-unconscious Jang Shin and rushed him to the infirmary. After the fight, a debate started up between the trainees about the Asians moves: Tae Kwon Do, Karate, Muay Thai, Kung Fu, Savate, Krav Maga. No one took care of the three men lying on the floor. *** Hehe, youre mine now, Commander Pief, who had been sitting on the third floor of the headquarters, let out an eerie laugh. He had watched the ruckus that the EVs had started. An amazing prize had come to him. He had never seen a man move so quickly from a sitting position to cross 10 meters. And the result, which had occurred like flowing water, was amazing. Mu Ssang knew the Asian fighting skills that Pief had only heard about. The Collectors eyes followed Mu Ssang. Jang Shins injuries werent mild. His ribs and nose were broken, and his cheekbones caved in because three teeth had shattered. Jang Shins training was about to be pushed back for two months because of these level-8 injuries. Thats not so bad. If it had been me, I wouldnt have gone to the infirmary, Mu Ssang thought. It would have made Jang Shin cough up blood, indignantly. That was Mu Ssangs standard. To him, level-8 injuries were when a limb was ripped apart, a skull bashed in, or insides eviscerated. However, no one would have agreed with him. The Ecole was a place where strong people from all corners of the globe gathered. Since they were being stationed together without much guidance, all sorts of things happened. Fistfights were an everyday thing, and there were even cases of rape. Mu Ssang wondered if there were a hierarchy amongst men of which he was not aware. However, inside the training grounds, if it wasnt a huge incident, most things were glossed over. The Pomsky gangs punishment included being required to make an open apology, attending one week of training academy, and having a hold put on their pay. All Mu Ssang received was two days of cleaning toilets. If he had been in Korea, he would have been called to court or a military conference. Mu Ssang became famous and earned the nickname Flying Viper. He was also subjected to another consequence of his actionshe came an outcast. The Pomsky gang and everyone else started to avoid him. He was a tough guy who had knocked out three people at once. Even the stronger men feared the Flying Viper. Basic training began at the Ecole and lasted for four weeks. The first stage was basic education and included the study of Legion Etrangers system, shooting, military formations, marches, combat training, bayonet training, and SALW creating. Mu Ssang could yawn about the whole thing. Compared to the training for Combined Repetitive Expelling Theory and Resonance, it was easy. With the end of their 50-kilometer march from the training grounds to their main camp, the 1st-level training ended. The EVs received a hat called the chapeau blanc making them official Legion Etranger members. Commander Pief placed the hats on their heads. Merci de vous tre donn la peine. (Thank you for your troubles.) Oui, merci! Mu Ssang was moved. He had earned a mercenary position three years after being chased out of school and society. Koreans were exceptionally picky about blood relationships, school, and personal connections. This created belonging and reasons to get together. And Mu Ssang, being Korean, felt the loneliness of not belonging anywhere. Second-level training included real-life shooting scenarios, weapon creation, rock climbing, and rappel training. The rappel training and rock climbing were held in Legion Etrangers fourth mountain camp in the Pyrnes, the perfect place for such training. The Legions main gun was Famas, a bullpup assault rifle. The Famas had been the gun of choice for the French army and Legion Etranger since 1987. The bullpup rifle differed from the M16 rifle in that the magazine was behind the trigger and grip, in the reverse order compared to the M16. The bullpup had two positive aspects. The first one was that the barrels length could be maintained while decreasing the guns overall length. A longer gun is harder to carry around, so it was a major feature for mercenaries or those in the special forces. The second advantage was that the recoil pushed against the shooters shoulder, so it was easier to stay focused on the target and keep the firing rate steady. There were also disadvantages. Range was limited, and the cartridge was near the shooters face, so there was a high risk of getting burned. The shooter had to compensate for the drastic higher sight offset when shooting in close-quarters, and the recoil could make the upper body shake violently. Mu Ssang didnt let go of the Famas. Even during meals, it remained in his left hand. A scholar shouldnt let a book leave his hand; a woodsman shouldnt let an ax leave his hand; a monk shouldnt let the wooden fish and scriptures leave his hands. To become someone talented in a field, a person must keep the relevant object close to their body and treat it like their own limb. At his masters words Mu Ssang laughed, Hey, youre tricking me. Youre saying that the Buddharupa should be used as firewood and the scriptures as pillows. I dont believe you. You little sh*t, thats exactly why Im a fake monk. You should take the meaning from my teachings not take it word for word. Hahaha! his masters benevolent laughter rang in his ears. Mu Ssang had become a soldier, and a soldier was a futuristic warrior. A gun was this warriors sword, and he didnt let his sword leave his body even once. It was like the monks wooden fish and a Christians cross. He didnt let go of the gun; he wanted to continually feel the cold metal against his skin. Shooting practice took place every three days, but there was no limit to the number of bullets they could use. This was an unexpected opportunity for a Korean. With such concentrated training, many of the soldiers claimed that their skin bled, muscles cramped, and teeth cracked. The training was harsh. There were times when they had to shoot 200 times a day, which expended a lot of energy and concentration. They checked their target after three rounds of zeroing, after three rounds of point three, and then after ten continuous rounds of each, followed by PRI training. This process was repeated ten times, so even the strongest men became fatigued. The Korean army practiced shooting scenarios once every several months, and the most they did was three rounds of zeroing. Then, they usually searched the grounds looking for the spent cartridges. If they saw how the Ecole worked, their jaws would have dropped at the gratuitous use of bullets. The shooting range provided targets at 25 meters, 100 meters, and 250 meters. These distances were determined by ballistics. Aside from the special forces, they didnt provide long-range training. A humans eyes are different from an animals eyes in that they see more clearly than an animal, including the distance and shape of objects. But that clarity decreases exponentially with an increase in distance. A machine approximated a bullets trajectory and the best distance to kill an enemy. Of course, that didnt mean that one would be killed if shot within that range. It was just that the chances of dying became more certain within that range. The maximum distance was around 100 meters. A shot beyond 100 meters was known as a warning shot rather than a kill shot. The Castelnau Bridge training program was professional and well-planned. Mu Ssang didnt feel the intensity of the training because of his superior physical condition, but it wasnt easy. Several men dropped out in the middle of training. The two Japanese men who claimed to be from the Self-Defense Forces dropped out in the first round. Apparently, Legion training was very rigorous compared to Defense Forces training. Those who dropped out had to go home. The last team stepped down from the shooting range. The loud echoes that had been like popping corn ended abruptly. The silence that encased the training grounds created tension. After the team stepped down, one person went back up on the range: the Flying Viper. The assistant placed five targets, with 3 meters between them, in the 300-meter range because the 250-meter target used for training was no longer relevant. Mu Ssang, who had gone up on the platform, lay down and assumed his position. The Famas aimed at the target had no sight attached to it. This test had been arranged by Commander Pief. Park, prove the validity of the rumors about you. His eyes were fixated on Mu Ssang. Pief had received a call from his friend, Collogne, two months ago. It had been three years since a soldier in the Legion stood out like this. This Asian intrigued the Collector who at once moved him into his 1st training company. The training consisted of 4 levels and lasted 17 weeks: level 1 was basic training; level 2 was situational training; level 3 was technique training; level 4 was evaluation and testing in which they assessed an individuals skills and assigned them elite duties. Pief did not have the patience to wait. He had watched dozens of officers tests. They all had heard of Mu Ssangs abilities. At the shooting range, he could verify the rumor that Park could catch ghosts in flight. The 120 trainees in the field watched with bated breath. Mu Ssang relaxed his body and placed his eye closer to the sight. His master had taught him how to see things with his mind. Adrenaline pumped throughout his body, enhancing every part. Dopamine and Noradrenaline sharpened his concentration. Chapter 6 The following were estimates for shooting with the naked eye. Capable of recognizing facial features at 100 meters. Capable of recognizing an epaulet and buttons at 200 meters. Capable of recognizing limbs and other body parts at 300 meters. Capable of recognizing limb movements at 400-1000 meters. Capable of differentiating between humans and animals at 1000-2000 meters. Unable to see people beyond 2000 meters. Differentiate windows at 200 meters. Differentiate building materials and types at 500 meters. Differentiate foliage at 850 meters. Differentiate street lamps at 1 kilometer. Differentiate building shapes at 2 kilometers. Differentiate individual buildings at 3 kilometers. Differentiate buildings at 8-11 kilometers. Differentiate objects as large as windmills at 18 kilometers. Differentiate factories at 21 kilometers. Of course, this did not apply to Mu Ssang. He could discern human features 1-kilometer away. His sight was eight times better than the average humans sight, so he didnt need a scope. The target set at 300 meters, perfect for a Famas, expanded before him. He could see each circle as if it was right in front of his face. It was a technique he had practiced at Mt. Chung Saeng. He had undergone training that allowed him to see lice in someones hair. A 100-millimeter target set at 300 meters away was like the full moon to him. That skill that would make him the strongest sniper. Au batons! the firing trainers order rang out. In an instant, his senses and concentration were at their peak. His consciousness fell away, his sub-consciousness pressed down his right thumb, and the muscles contracted at a steady pace. Actin made his muscles slide and contract smoothly. He pulled the trigger straight back without a single tremble in his finger. Air pressed on the mercury in the bottom of the cartridge case. The bullet received the full blow of the pressure within its casing and shot forward at a speed three times faster than the speed of sound. The 5.56-millimeter NATO bullet flew forward at a power of 1700J and took 0.4 seconds to reach its target. After shooting three times, he looked up and checked his shots. The target backboard at 300 meters looked like a tin can to the average eye and the target, a piece of candy. They couldnt see the 100-millimeter central circle. Mu Ssangs eagle eyes confirmed that two bullets had drifted 25mm away from the center ring. It was a fundamental problem with the gun. He nodded once more to the training officer who then ran towards the target to check his score. This was his first time doing a 300-meter shoot. After checking his third click to the right, he shot three times once more. This time, it landed in the 25-millimeter circle. He zeroed in on the 300-meter target. The training officer went between the platform and target continuously. Mu Ssang didnt need to confirm his shots by retrieving the target, but he didnt want to look too outstanding. His master always warned him to hide a fifth of his strengths. He was given 30 bullets, and he entered a continuous shoot. Tatata tatata The slightly obtuse sound of the Famas continuously rang out. He was instructed to fire 30 bullets in six rounds at five targets. After firing two rounds at the third pointer, he moved to the next target, and once he had shot two rounds on the next targets third pointer, he moved once more, like flowing water. Piefs expression crumpled. Is it because he is inexperienced? he wondered. The excited Koreans shooting grated on his nerves. Nothing could be done about the machines recoil especially with the Famas extreme side-to-side vibrations that took a toll on the upper body. Firing at the three-pointer with two rounds was disappointing. Even if he was exceptionally talented, some things were simply impossible. He didnt know what this Korean was thinking. It took him 8.7 seconds to move from the first target to the next. His barrage was clocked at 1.2 seconds, and it took him 1.5 seconds to fix his sight on the next target. But 1.5 seconds wasnt enough time to recover from the Famas recoil. This was not something that could be overcome by training as it was a machinery issue, but Pief was disappointed by this timing. Oh, mon Dieu! (Oh my god!) a small exclamation rippled amongst the officers of the training range. The speed of the barrage increased. The machine-gun-like sound suddenly stopped. In a blink of an eye, 30 rounds had been spent. A silence spread over the grounds. It took him 35 seconds to fire 30 shots at 5 targets. He had fired the gun like a machine gun. The sergeant who had been watching the timer looked at the seconds as if he could not believe it. Pief, who also received the report, widened his eyes. The shooting was, aside from the accurate, incredibly quick. The counters who verified the targets suddenly erupted into shouts. Oh mon Dieu! Incredible! Only two of the 30 shots had missed the 100-millimeter circle. It was the 1st target that had been zeroed. The other 28 bullets had landed inside the 25-millimeter ring. It was perfect. What the hell? Pief doubted his eyes. A shiver ran down his spine. It was a fixed target, but the distance was still 300 meters. He had managed to put bullets through a 100-millimeter ring at a 100-percent rate without using a dot sight or scope. On top of that, he had changed targets and still finished in 35 seconds. This wasnt just special, it was the birth of a sniper. Legion Etranger had a sniping team in its regiment in Corsica, in the concentrated Deuxieme Rep. Their talents were astounding. But there was a limit to the human body, and the machinery itself. Then how did he manage to control the recoil? It was a riddle that Pief was never going to solve. He would also never know that this Korean had hidden around a fifth of his capability. Normally, an average firing range had targets placed at around 250 meters. It was the point determined by taking the bullet and its trajectory into consideration. A distance beyond 250 meters was irrelevant if the shooter was firing a rifle. But at 300 meters, the were other factors for the shooter to consider. 300 meters didnt just mean an extra 50 meters, it also meant a shooters accuracy dropped by 80 percent. But despite all that, the results were as perfect as a continuous firing. He had used a rifle, which was a ground assault weapon, as a snipers tool. Not even the best snipers could ignore the bodys limits and machinerys faults in such a manner. Pief, who had plenty of experience under his belt, felt his neck tingle. If an enemy was to stumble across this Korean in the middle of a battle, it meant that a small unit was going to be wiped out in one to two minutes. Effrayante, effrayant! Pief analyzed Park in his immobile state. He had a surprisingly well-trained body but looked like the average Asian. Sergeant. Oui, Captain. If you used the Famas for a 300-meter shoot, how many shots would you be able to get in? The sergeant hesitated. There is no 300-meter shooting in the training plan, but I am capable of shooting a target 250 meters away with a 90-percent accuracy. Continuously? The sergeant couldnt think of a reply. Continuous shooting was considered an area shoot rather than a target shoot. He wished to point that out, but his rank didnt allow it. Cest mauvais! (Thats bad!) A vein bulged in sergeant Himlets forehead. He had become a trainer because of his first-class sniping. But, because of one Asian, he had become someone unimportant. Pief was someone who had battled in both the Congo and Guina. He also knew that the skills Park had shown were amazing beyond words. It was the birth of a perfect sniper, the sole one in existence. Without any obstacles, he could remove a high-ranking officer instantly. Pief assessed Mu Ssang as if he was dissecting him. He was tall, considering his Asian roots. His hands and feet were large, and his arms and legs were long. His muscles were well-built, even in detail, and his stance was upright and proportional. It was the peak of human fitness that a sportsman or competitor would seek. He was perfect. He was currently standing immobile, without a single twitch of a muscle. He was capable of controlling his entire body completely. Soldier Park, have you ever served in the military? An officer translated for their conversation. No. Do all Koreans shoot as well as you do? Mu Ssang hadnt been anywhere near the Korean military. He didnt know whether the Korean militarys sniping skills were good or bad. Theyre good. How good? They can shoot a hummingbirds head at 300 meters. He didnt have even an ounce of affection left towards his motherland, but he didnt want his country to be looked down upon. What? Shoot a hummingbirds head at 300 meters! Pief and the surrounding officers shouted in disbelief. Its true. It was a lie. But they werent going to check if the Korean military was capable of shooting a hummingbirds head even if they went there themselves. Mu Ssang had no idea that Pief had decided to create a special force consisting of Koreans. Pief instinctively felt as if this was his big chance. After World War II, English colonies in Africa managed to claim independence. The newly independent countries were rife with battles, civil wars, and fights over borders. This was the same for the French colonies: Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, Guinea, and Mali. Even Algeria and Chad didnt have a single day of peace. France, in typical fashion, interfered with these battles for independence. Having something special put a commander on the fast track to a promotion. Piefs animal instincts immediately thought of offering the Korean to the French International dispatched forces. Of course, he was the one that would benefit. Ok, rest. Piefs mood immediately shot up. He told the sergeant to bring a snipers gun. Whats the precision range of the Famas? Pief asked William, the machinery officer. Quatre MOA. (4 MOA.) One MOA referred to a perfect shot fired from 100 meters and hitting a 25-millimeter circle. So, a 4 MOA Famas was capable of making a perfect shot in a 120-millimeter circle from a distance of 100 meters. Of course, this was a mechanical calculation with the most perfect conditions applied. Mu Ssang fired with 4 MOA precision without using a dot sight or a scope, shooting a 100-millimeter circle at a range of 300 meters. He had surpassed the guns limits. Pief found it hard to hide his excitement. In Legion Etranger, those snipers who were able to surpass the machinerys limits were called god snipers. This was the first time since World War II that a god sniper had emerged. All sorts of people from around the world applied at Legion Etranger. And sometimes a human with special abilities enlisted. Mu Ssang was someone who had surpassed human ability, and many doubted that he was human. If the test results were revealed, higher commanders would go after him like flies on dead meat. He was a trainee, and whoever got to him first would have an advantage. Piefs original legion was the Deuxieme Rep. After losing his battalion at Algeria because of a risky strategy, he was relocated to Castelnau Bridge. Trainee Park was someone who could return him to Deuxieme Rep and also give him wings. Commander Pief searched intently for the person who was going to help him move beyond his previous position. The first person on his list was Lieutenant Colonel Blanco at the retirement village. Blanco had been Piefs colonel. In Guinea, his foot was caught by a guerrillas booby trap and was ultimately amputated. He had retired, but no one in the legion could ignore his advice. Pief always used to visit Blanco whenever he visited Aubagne. Blanco respected the warriors and had good connections. He was someone who would be excited by the idea of a person like Mu Ssang. Pief had already played with the newbies for over a year. His time of repentance was over and he was going to ask Blanco to help him get reinstated into the Deuxieme Rep. Captain! A soldier, with a Dragunov in his hands, woke Pief from his musings. A Dragunov was a Russian semi-automatic sniper rifle, but it had poor accuracy for a sniper rifle. On the other side, its durability was amazing as was its use against moving targets. It had been 20 years since the first one was produced, but it was still loved by the world. Its official name was ߧѧ֧ۧܧѧ ӧڧߧӧܧ ѧԧߧӧ. Of course, no one remembers that, and there was no reason to remember it. The Dragunov used a 7.62-millimeter bullet. Its longest range was 1300 meters, but the average range was 800 meters. Compared to the other high-quality sniper rifles, its precision was 3 MOA less and its range comparably smaller. Up against the fixed 4, proportionally balanced PSO-1M2, the Dragunovs precision and surrounding scope sight was lacking. The Dragunov also had its positive aspects. It had a better firing rate, power, and accuracy than the other weapons since it had been designed for catching a swiftly moving object. That construction and durability made it perfect for real situations and is what made it a consistently sold gun. The GIATs FR-F1, nicknamed Epal, was the French militarys most-ordered sniper rifle, but it didnt gain the favor of Legion Etranger, mostly because it was heavy and bolt-action oriented. When selecting a weapon, the snipers of Deuxieme Rep valued the weight, firing rate, power, and range the most, and many returned the Epal that had been issued to them and bought their own Dragunov. Pief threw the Dragunov to Mu Ssang. He was confused. What am I supposed to do with it? Park, have you used a Dragunov before? Its my first time. Can you try using it? No problem. What? Hahaha! Pief laughed at Mu Ssangs reply. He was someone with a sense of humor and amazing abilities. Pief liked him even more. No problem was a phrase that had a lot of history within Legion Etranger. When thinking about the Vietnam war, most people recall the United States involvement. But there was a painful moment in history where the French army was massacred in a Vietnamese jungle. It was considered separate from the Vietnam War, however, and was called the Indo-China war. In 1954, France suffered a painful defeat in the war at Dien Bien Phu. In this battle, most of the soldiers in the Legion Etranger battalion died. Because they were lacking in funds, the best the French military could come up with was to send in reinforcements from the infantry regiment for a combined attack. Many enlistees appeared, but the soldiers were new and inexperienced. And many of the newbies that jumped out of the plane said, no problem. No one knew the reason, but this was a phrase that became legendary within the Legion for its sincerity and fearlessness. Since then, the term no problem was used to say, I have no experience but will try my best. The Dragunov weighed about 4.3 kilograms. Considering its purpose, it was on the lighter side. In reality, the Dragunov was used as a squads automatic rifle, more than a snipers rifle. This time, it was bipod stationary shooting. It was the first time he held a rifle. For now, he chose to shoot 15 rounds, zeroing at 250 meters. He got into position. A sniper was expected to hit a target beyond the guns range and within a specified time. During a recorded shooting at the Ecole, they allowed for a 4-second interval between shots fired at a target that was 100 meters away, and 10 seconds for one 250 meters away. A person typically could regain their concentration within those limitations. When given a target at 400 meters, the interval was extended into 40 seconds. A normal soldier was incapable of recovering from nerves and controlling their breath within this time. This why the need for specially-trained soldiers emerged. A sniper had to be capable of hitting a target perfectly at over 400 meters. Of course, they had to undergo special training to increase their concentration and sight. But Mu Ssang was only a normal EV who hadnt received any sniper training. The target, due to the limitations of the grounds, was placed at 600 meters. It was also the limit at which a sniper could target a limb using the Dragunov. Mu Ssang placed the target in the scopes crosshairs and concentrated. He placed the target within the lines, and he placed the line within himself. Mu Ssang was someone who had the sight to discern the gender of a person standing 4 kilometers across the Aubagnes plains. The moment he sensed his body becoming one with the rifle, his finger moved, but he didnt even sense that he had pulled the trigger. Clang clang clang It was Mu Ssangs specialty, a rapid series of shots. After confirming the hits on the recovered target, he fell back in place adjusting his stance. It took 20 seconds to shoot a series of 10 bullets. Even though this was his first time, he finished it with amazing speed. Piefs reaction, after confirming the results on the target, turned into excitement. Eight bullets had hit the 100-millimeter circle, and two had gone slightly off the 50-millimeter one. He had surpassed the guns limits, once again. The Korean, along with showing precision, had conquered the test with the continuous rounds and range. It was, as one might say, a free jewel he had found in the province. Pief, as soon as he returned to the Ecole, gave Mu Ssang a special treat: letting him choose his sniping rifle. Park, choose your lover. I will give it to you. Chapter 7 On the table were the French Armys fundamental guns: the Epal, Israels Galil, Germanys PSG-1, and USAs M40. These weapons, made to kill a person in the most efficient way, were gleaming on the table. The PSG-1 cost 4 million Francs, an expensive gun with a precision of 0.7MOA. The M40 boasted a 1MOA with a range of 1,000 meters. For a mercenary, weapons mattered. Pief was counting on Park and laid out some choices to buy his trust. Dragunov! Mu Ssang replied. What? You want to turn down a 4-million Franc countess and hold onto some 2000-Franc trash? What kind of an idiot was he? He had just kicked away 4 million Francs rolling into his pockets. If he truly liked the Dragunov, he could have still chosen the PSG-1, sold it, and bought a Dragunov. It made him look like a naive Korean even more. Whats the reason? Its strong and quick. The accuracy is lacking. Pief felt that his words would have no meaning. Park had managed to display a kill-all ability with the Dragunov. Ill decide. Very well. Pief gifted the Dragunov without a second thought. He had managed to sway a god-level sniper with 2000 Francs. He caught a tuna with shrimp bait. He adored Mu Ssang, who was going to help him climb the ladder to a higher position. But Mu Ssangs soul wasnt that of a pet. It was that of a predator. Whether Piefs goal, viewed through rose-colored glasses, would really come to be was something worth watching. Sniper training was added to his daily schedule. Curses flew out of Mu Ssangs mouth, Damn, theyre still fussing even after I placed in the top 5 percent of the trainees. Master was right. Sniper training was a series of endurance tests, overcoming torment after torment. It was considered the most brutal training within the army. He regretted it, but it was too late. In the military, when one was asked to die, they had to die. That was why one had to make the right connections from the beginning. *** According to the American Heritage Organizations wartime research, 7,000 bullets were wasted killing one enemy during World War I. In the Vietnam war, over 25,000three times the amountwere wasted. Based on the value of a dollar in 1980, a 5.56-millimeter NATO bullet cost the US 70 cents to produce. This meant that the American military wasted over 17,500 dollars killing one enemy during the Vietnam War. That amount was a military mans yearly pay. This was only possible within the United States, a first-world country. Military spending was at its peak. According to the French DGSEs reports, a sniper used 1.3 bullets to kill its target, so it cost a dollar to kill one enemy. In the Vietnam War, a sniper could have killed 17,500 people with 17,500 dollars. The sniper could destroy a unit and, on top of that, a regiment. A life wasnt worth the price of a coffee. Voltaire once said, God is not on the side of the big battalions but on the side of those who shoot best. An army with good snipers was the best army. A snipers existence was significant enough to sway to the flow of the battle. The purpose of an army was to prepare for war, suppress insurgencies, and kill enemies. A lot of training and plenty of experience made a good soldier and military. An army without much preparation and experience, but with high numbers of soldiers, was easy to deconstruct. And when the senior officers were incapable, the military was an ant that would be killed by a raindrop. The most representative incident of this case was the Ssang-Ryung battle in January 1637. This was the most embarrassing failure in Koreas history. King Injo was frightened and fled to the Namhansanseong Fortress without fighting a single battle. Over 4 million soldiers moved from both the Gyeong-sangs western and eastern provinces to save this king. And unbelievably, the 4-million-soldier-strong army was defeated by 300 men at the battle of Ssang-Ryung. Three-hundred was not an exact number, but it was still a crushing defeat. Back then, most of the Korean army was equipped with the latest technology of that era, the gun, but was defeated against those soldiers who swung swords. According to the records, General Huh-Wan, from the eastern provinces distributed 10 bullets to each gunner. The soldiers were new to the concept of guns and wasted the bullets, firing their guns indiscriminately. If just half of the army shot one round, they would have used over 100,000 bullets. But they still werent able to defeat the 300 men with those 100,000 shots. The situation was incomprehensible. The soldiers who had used up all of their ammunition fought with others for more. And at that moment, the Qing army advanced. The soldiers were scared and scrambled for their lives. And the Qing warriors on horses chased after the soldiers who were fleeing like ants. Several thousand men were trampled under their own comrades feet. The other thousands ran away. Even Huh-Wan himself was crushed by his fleeing men. General Min Young from the western region didnt distribute all of the bullets at once. It was only after they were up against the Qing army that they started distribution. And, at that moment, a soldier who hated Min Young set fire to the bullet storage building. When the bullets exploded within the military camp, the soldiers panicked. And when the Qing horse riders attacked, Youngs men also trampled each other while fleeing. In the end, the fate of the army that Huh-Wan led wasnt any different from what happened to Youngs army. Min Young was also stomped to death. There were several conspiracy theories regarding the Ssang-Ryung battle, but the truth that Huh-wan and Min Young suffered a crushing defeat didnt change. According to several pieces of evidence, the Joseonese army had 1,040,000 million soldiers. With such a large army, the Qing should have been defeated in a single battle. It was the pathetic result of having untrained soldiers, incapable commanders, and a lack of experience on the battlefield. Written early in the Ming dynasty, Liu Jis One Hundred Unorthodox Strategies included the Cultivation strategy that said, a military without experienced generals and soldiers are bound to fail. The first condition for a victorious army was well-trained soldiers and a capable commander. Well-trained men were behind General Lee-Sun Shin in their victory against the Japanese army. In the Three-Kingdom era, the Fifth general, Hwang Chung, became one of the five great generals alongside Jo-Ja-Ryong, Gwan-Wu, Jang-Bi, and Ma-Cho with his archery skills. Then and now, snipers were a necessity in winning a war. On the battlefield, snipers heightened the fear of the battle and acted as a wild card to control the opponents movements. Sometimes they became the key to a battle. In World War I, Finland fought against the Russian army and using a well-trained sniper team, was able to stop the Russian armys strong vanguard. If there had been 400 qualified soldiers at Ssang-Ryung instead of 40,000 inexperienced men, the result would have been quite different. Using a simple defensive formation with gunners in four rows, they could have defeated the 300 warriors. A snipers value could be calculated. A human target had an area of around 0.42m^2. And within that target, a shot could be fatal on only 40 percent of his overall body, and area of 0.16m^2. According to the US Border Protection records, only 40 percent of bullets fired were fatal shots. This meant that the other 60 percent of the bullets hit limbs, ears, or some non-fatal area. Body armor lowered that percentage. One can assume that there were no stupid soldiers just standing around on the battlefield, so considering all the bad aspects, the kill rate is even lower. Then what was the possibility of a 4MOA gun killing an enemy, in hiding, beyond 300 meters? When the target was still, the head and shoulders created an area of 450cm^2. In the 300-meter range, the best possible shot with a 4MOA gun was, by the machinerys standards, an area of 1,017cm^2. The chance of a fatal shot was 44 percent, so only one-out-of-three shots would hit the target. If only 40 percent of a target is visible, the chances of a kill further decreases to 16 percent. In the end, only 10 percent of shots fired resulted in a fatality. If there was a misfire on the battlefield, even a critical shot was going to be difficult. Targets on the battlefield would be concealed and always in motion, and killing someone who was out of sight would further decrease the kill rate. So its not hard to believe when the reports say that 25,000 bullets were wasted on one death in the Vietnam War. This is why militaries around the world tried to improve the accuracy instead of the range of their weapons. A snipers psychological state can also give him an advantage. A soldier on the battlefield has a rush of adrenaline. Filled with rage, he fears nothing. Of course, beginners or those who were otherwise fearful, either cowered or screamed and became mentally unstable. Another side of a soldier without fear was that he didnt think he would be killed. He doubted that he would be hit by a bullet. Many shots fired on the battlefield were stray bullets or misfires. So if a friend was to get hit, he might not have been the target for that bullet; it would just be one bullet out of millions that were fired. It would be almost a fluke if a friend had been hit by a stray bullet, and a hatred towards the enemy would accumulate until it exploded. In movies, there is often the clich scene where a fallen soldier dies while calling out to his friend. Some macho idiot leaps out of the hiding spot and runs forward in rage. This was something that did happen when the madness of the battlefield overruled a soldiers fear of it. When a sniper fires shots, however, the situation turns out differently. Every single bullet is aimed perfectly at the target. The bullets blow up the targets head and pierce his heart. Then, the situation changes. The belief that one wont be hit by a bullet wavers. The realization that I am a target, becomes real. The death of a friend then brings forth not rage but fear because now this solder can imagine the sight of his head exploding. The mind goes blank, and the soldier puts himself in the line of fire. This is called Approach-Avoidance and can be seen in animal documentaries about the Serengeti plains. Thousands of gnus are running on the plains. The wide Jambagi river is in their path. In the river, several alligators are waiting. The herd pauses momentarily, but then they jump into the river without hesitation. Why do the gnus run toward their death? The Approach-Avoidance theory postulates that the number of gnu that would be sacrificed to the alligators would be small compared to the numbers of the herd that survive. So the gnu proceed because, at the moment one of them is being sacrificed, several others can cross the river. The theory says that one gnu doubts that he or she would be the one caught by the alligators. Sadly, this is what makes humans no different from the gnu herds. The term sniper was first used by the 18th-century English military. In the Indian mountains, there were birds called snipe, which were fast and agile, and, because of their irregular movements, they were a challenging object for target practice. On top of that, their feathers were similar to the forests colors, so they were hard to find. Snipe were hardly seen and hard to shoot. It would have been a hundred times easier to shoot a lion or a tiger. The act of shooting the snipes was called sniping, so sniper became the term for someone who targeted snipes. As useful as snipers were, it took an immense amount of time and money given to cultivate them. Within Legion Etranger, there was a Deuxieme Rep just for those snipers consisting of four battalions. Sniper training began once a soldier had completed the training at Ecole and was assigned to that regiment. In Mu Ssangs case, he was starting early because of Piefs intentions. Mu Ssangs peaceful days were now over. He now was an official sniper trainee. If he was ordered to die, he had to follow that order. Anyone could quit the regiment if they wanted to. Mu Ssang was someone who had more endurance and patience than anyone else in the world, but he never considered packing up his belongings just because his training got harder. It was nothing compared to the days he had spent in that cave in Bang Tae San. At 23:00, while all of the trainees slept, Mu Ssang, wearing a self-made Ghillie Suit, hid in the middle of the Occitane Forest. The firing range could be seen in the distance. That nights training was about concealment, to stay hidden within a 250-meter radius after moving three times. Three professional training officers, all talented snipers, moved around looking for him. If they found him, he would have to repeat the training, and if they didnt, he would receive a Glock 17 as a reward. Pief, although this training was off the record, made sure there was a carrot on a stick so he could use this inexperienced trainee relentlessly. The Occitane Forest was the trainees front yard. The officers, with over five years of experience, knew the surrounding region very well. This training limited a trainee to moving only within a 250-meter radius. It was hard to avoid the trainers excellent vision. Damn, are they asking me to become invisible or something? he thought, very annoyed. Here he was training the middle of the night when all of his fellow trainees were asleep. What kind of training was this? If he had been asked if he wanted to become a sniper, he wouldnt have been so annoyed. But he knew that he shouldnt be in such a rush to finish this training. Three hours passed, and he had not moved a muscle. He didnt need a watch; he could tell the time by his bodys changes. He had once waited in the middle of Bang Tae San for 24 hours to catch a scorpion. Waiting in the middle of a mountain where fresh air flowed was nothing compared to that experience. His brain, recognizing his dehydration desperately asked for water. His throat and mouth had long gone dry. His skin was tingling and his eyes had turned dark. In a short while, it was going to be 24:00. This cursed training had to end. He had controlled his food intake, but he needed the restroom desperately. Snipers usually urinated in small spurts so that it dried quickly since the smell would linger for a long time. The smell also spreads wide. Even a human, when trained, can discern the smell of sweat and urination from tens of meters away. Mu Ssang used the Combined Repetitive Expelling Theorys principle of separated disconnection. This disconnection could prevent urination, sweating and even allow a woman to control her menstrual cycle. He pressed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tightened his perineal muscles. Through concentration, he changed his bodys inner temperature through his veins and governor vessels. The gathered urine slowly seeped back into his body. Swish A clean wave fell over him. Only a sniper could catch a sniper. Someone who had undergone extreme training could easily pinpoint a hiding spot a sniper might move to next, so the sniper whose previous spot had been discovered could easily become a target. A snipers skills were determined by their ability to hide, to use terrain to their advantage, and to perform subtle interventions and extractions. Mu Ssang had learned how to become one with nature in his assassination of Chui Do Shik. A skill that had been in his unconsciousness surfaced because of the sniper training. I am the wind, the rock, the grass, the ground. Mu Ssang steadily disappeared. F*cking hell, Im going to die. He grit his teeth at a red ants relentless attack. It was a Lasius Nager, a wild ant that lived in the Pyrenees mountains that had very large pinchers for its size. This fire ant originated in Argentina and was amazingly tenacious. In comparison to its small size, it had incredible strength. Once it got a hold of something, it never let go. When it was pulled away from what it was biting, it let its head get ripped away from its body, so it could keep on biting. It had arrived in southern France, pushed out the indigenous fire ant, and conquered the Pyrenees. The annoying things even invaded the training camps. Ugh, Im going to go crazy! The fire ant that had bit the tip of his nose was, for some reason, entering his nose. Mu Ssang instinctively twitched it. The officers were professional snipers, and their eyes and senses were different from those of normal people. Three days prior, Mu Ssang had failed the test at the very end because he had let his guard down trying to dig out a fly that had flown into his ear. If he moved now, the efforts of the past 24 hours would be wasted. When his nose twitched, it angered the fire ant. It was a species that became stronger when its food resisted, so it bit into the soft tissues inside his nose and didnt let go. Uggggh! he screamed in his head. The shout nearly escaped. The nerves that delivered pain tested his threshold. Goosebumps appeared all over his body. He never knew an ants attack could be this painful. It was to the point he missed his master attacking him with a staff. And in that moment, he feared that his muscles would contract. If he moved his muscles, he might make a sound. He fought tooth and nail to relax his body. At that moment, the first officer passed by him without realizing his presence. The pain in his nose felt like a red-hot iron torture device. When someone feels pain, they shout, roll around, or make a sound, and that disperses the pain; it distracts the senses. Mu Ssang, however, couldnt do anything to distract his pain. He couldnt shout, nonetheless blink his eyes. His head was overloaded with several sensations and intentions swirling like lightning and hail. It was the first time Mu Ssang experienced such pain. He wanted to gather all the ants in the world and kill them. He wanted to exterminate the Lasius Nager, but it was a hopeless wish. He couldnt even get rid of the ant currently up his nose. Genocide was out of the question. From what he knew, ants were diurnal creatures. He didnt know that there were nocturnal ants, too. He believed that this ant should be diagnosed with sleepwalking problems. The chances of him sneezing became exponentially higher. He ultimately suppressed his parasympathetic nervous system. There was no way he could get through this with simple breathing exercises. He attempted to make his nose run to chase out the ant without moving, that was the only way. He gathered all his senses and concentration to make his nose run. His body, which was lacking in fluids, didnt cooperate at first. Time seemed to pass slowly during his torment. Oh, its flowing, its flowing! he thought with much relief. He became emotional and excited. It was the victory of a human who had overcome bodily instincts. He never imagined that he would be so happy about a runny nose. The f*cking fire ant was pushed out of his nose from the flood. Bang Bang While he was fighting against the fire ant, the training ended. The two shots meant the end of training. The 24 hours were up. He had concentrated on the ant so deeply that he hadnt noticed the last officer passing him. Mu Ssang enjoyed his freedom. On top of that, he earned a Glock 17. To Mu Ssang, the 4500 Francs werent easy money, but it marked the end of his concealment training, a training he never wished to go through again. What situation would a human find the most torturous? It was when they couldnt move. No one could survive being in one position for a long time. A sniper had to remain positioned like this in the wild for over an hour. Extreme sunshine and wind were easily bearable compared to an attack from a creature. An insects attack was the most fearsome when in hiding. A centipede could bite the penis, a bee could sting, an ant could bite inside the nostrils, mosquitoes could attack, and all kinds of flies and insects could crawl into any orifices in the body. Sometimes bird poop landed on the face, a snake might hiss before ones eyes protesting an invasion of its nest, pollen could bring out a sneeze, or a scorpion could bite ones foot. It was impossible to be still in the wild. Moving continuously for 24 hours would be better. After the training, Mu Ssang felt like a dead man. The Lasius Nagers impact had weighed heavy on his mind. He plopped down on the floor like a sticky rice cake and rested. At that moment, he learned that although rice cakes couldnt become human, humans could certainly become rice cakes. Chapter 8 Captain, Park has passed Program Zero. Impossible! Piefs expression turned from surprised to happy as he received this report in the middle of the night. Mu Ssangs sniping test was satisfactory. Legion Etrangers sniper training was made of four levels. Program Zero was a non-recorded level that focused heavily on survival. The basic training program un a trois (one to three) was mandatory. Thirty-two weeks were spent solely on level three. The fourth level had no time limit. Programme Un (Program One) was simply torturous. In its 150-year history within Legion Etranger, the members that had passed the snipers training could be counted on two hands. Mu Ssang found it difficult to hide the last five percent of his capabilities like his master had suggested. Piefs training for Mu Ssang was beyond the usual Program Un and was nearing sadism. How could a human cross the Pyrenees mountains 15-kilometer range under one hour? How could a human climb an overhang perpendicular to the ground and over 100 meters high? How could a human jump from 15 meters in height with just his body? How could a human wait for 24 hours immobile in the wilderness? The how-could-a-human? training had no end in sight. Piefs expression was worth its weight in gold. Mu Ssang did complain, but he managed to absorb all the training. It was the birth of an indestructible human weapon. The next day, Pief received a transmission that made him smile; it was the news that he had been waiting for for a long time. He had been accepted and reinstated back into the Deuxieme Rep. At the end of this training session, he could leave boring Castelnau Bridge. His plea to Lieutenant Colonel Blanco had been worth it. Deuxieme Reps headquarters were on the outskirts of Corsica. For a soldier to succeed, there was nothing better than going to war, and the Deuxieme Rep was the first military unit that was sent into international battlefields. The fourth company that he was to command were the special forces of snipers and explosives experts. Pief, who thirsted for a higher position, was good at finding opportunities. He had been paying attention to the former French colony, Chad, which was in turmoil. France was going to leave Chad, and the Deuxieme Rep was going to be dispatched first to oversee this transition. Mu Ssang was a definite factor in Pief climbing the military ladder. Oh, petit canard! (Duckling) Pief greeted Mu Ssang gladly; he could have kissed him. Mu Ssang was there because Pief had called for him, but he didnt like him at all. He wasnt going to warmly greet someone who had lured him with sweet talk into two months of torture. Mu Ssang didnt know why Pief called him a duckling for a while. He wondered if it was because he was cute. After all, he was handsome because he had received the best of his parents genes. But the aura around him was more sharp than cute. When he glared at someone with the red glint of his eyes, no one could bear looking at him. Commander Pief had begun to call him petit canard after their trainee interview. He had asked Mu Ssang what he liked to eat, and he had replied that he liked the Foie Gras, traditionally a goose liver dish, but most foie gras was made of duck liver. The strange man before laughed until he coughed. Why did he laugh? Mu Ssang wondered. He finally asked Sergeant Himlet, to whom he had grown close, What is petit canard? The sergeant laughed heartily before replying, Park, you should be happy. Its a nickname, duckling, but it also refers to a sensitive woman. French people call their lovers petit canards. F*cking sh*t, this damned bastard! Mu Ssang thought. Anger rushed to his brain. Recalling Piefs lustful face, goosebumps raced up his arms and legs, and his rear muscles clenched involuntarily. Mu Ssang placed Pief on his death list. Mu Ssang hurled profanities in Korean. Pief didnt know the worst of the Korean profanities and, therefore, didnt realize Mu Ssang had sworn at him. Cest votre cadeau. (This is your gift.) Pief pushed an unwrapped Glock 17 toward Mu Ssang. It was the best weapon a mercenary could receive. When expressing their camaraderie or affection, soldiers usually gave each other guns or knives. Merci, merci! He did deserve it, but it was a gift that still deserved gratitude. Pief looked at Mu Ssang with warm eyes. Ugh, that rotten old man! Mu Ssang thought. His muscles contracted once more at the disgusting look. There were no rumors about the commander being gay, but most French people within the legion had the nickname C*cksucker. It made him wonder how many gay men were in the legion for such a nickname to be so common! Pief looked a lot like Stalin. He had short, black hair, a large forehead, thick eyebrows, and this 42-year-olds mustache was trimmed like Stalins, a kaiser cut. His attitude was exaggerated by his low and sensual voice. He was the poster-boy of sensuality. Just looking at him gave Mu Ssang a headache. His stomach turned every time he heard the nickname petit canard, but the patience he had built while drumming at the wooden fish kept him from acting out. Without his masters teachings, he would have ripped out Piefs mustache and ripped apart his big mouth with his bare hands. In reality, a man calling another man a petit canard was a huge breach of manners. That was because those words were accusations of another mans homosexuality. Pief would never know how his life was extended because of an old master on the other side of the world. The difference between a second-class soldier and a commander was like the difference between the sky and earth. Mu Ssang, instead of committing an act of violence, he called the commander Nigimi Ddugural, vulgar Korean swear words. In response to asking what it meant, Mu Ssang replied that it was the Korean way of respectfully addressing an honorable boss. Pief was extremely satisfied whenever Mu Ssang called him Nigimi Ddugural. If ever found out that Nigimi Ddugural was akin to mother f*cker, his eyes would have rolled back in his head in anger. There was no way the officers, even those with a knowledge of Korean, would know the harsh swear words. So, this white commander mocked this young Asian by calling him a duckling, and the young Asian soldier got his revenge by calling his superior officer a mother-f*cker. After mocking and swearing at each other, they walked into the cafeteria shoulder-to-shoulder. It was Piefs turn to buy dinner because he had bet that Mu Ssang couldnt pass the subterfuge test within three days. He lost, so he had to buy him haute cuisine, including foie gras. Mu Ssang enjoyed French food, so far, and liked the people who enjoyed these luxuries. Perhaps because of their attraction to eating and living life, French people had much more leisure in their lives compared to Koreans. However, he didnt like the way the French enjoyed eating. Mu Ssang had suffered starvation since he was nine years old. Food was something that was eaten for survival, nothing more and nothing less. He hated those who tampered with the worth of food, and he viewed expensive food with disgust. Hae Young, when teasing Mu Ssang, used to call him a food proletariat. It was a good phrase to describe him because he thought of good food as something with many nutrients and given in sufficient amounts. He had never thought about the appearance or taste of food nor the atmosphere in which the food was eaten. All that was important was the amount, efficiency, and nutrients. French people debated about the food on their table. Around the dining table, all kinds of exclamations and remarks were made about the food. Half of the meal passed with pointless discussion about the meal itself. There was no way that those who debated the foods taste, history, perfection, and other details would look good in a food proletariats eyes. In the worst sense, it was flaunting money and knowledge about food. In nicer terms, it was an obsession with flavors and the atmosphere surrounding the foodMu Ssang endured those incomprehensible table talks by repeating this to himself. He often heard these sentiments from Pief and the commanders: A meal is a sensual and artistic pleasure. It must be tasted elegantly and thought about extravagantly and a meal is a lesson. Those who rush into their meals are savages. He could never accept those words. Whether it was because he had first heard those words from Pief or because of their superficial meaning, he didnt know. Mu Ssang was realistic and was a minimalist. He didnt understand what sort of sense, art, or elegance could take priority over the food itself! To him, food gave delicious nutrients and a substance that made the stomach feel full. The French, who talked about the elegance and delicacy of foods waiting in front of them were crazy. At minimum, the distance between Mu Ssangs and Piefs thoughts about food was the same distance between The Netherlands and New York. The French attitudes toward food gave Mu Ssang culture shock. Whether satiating oneself or ones artistic talents, French food had a lot to offer. The French typically enjoyed toast, jam, and coffee for petit dejeuner (breakfast) or dejeuner (lunch). Of course, in the trainees cafeteria, those meals werent quite like that. Dinner was a multi-course meal with more than two types of wine. It was typically shared among close friends or families, not strangers. The fact that Pief had invited Mu Ssang to dinner in the commanders dining hall showed how important he was to him. The entire meal consisted of haute cuisine, and items were served in this order: aperitif, entree, soup, fish, sorbet, meat, salad, cheese, and dessert. And the dishes were named for a combination of their cooking method, sauce, ingredients, and region from where they originated. Mu Ssang had a mental breakdown after looking at the menu. He had to trust in Pief to order the food. The beginning of their meal started okay but developed a small crisis. The aperitif and entree were fine, but Mu Ssang became slightly uncomfortable when the escargot (a dish of Helix Pomatialand snailsthat are boiled, filled with butter and lemon juice, flavored with parsley and cooked in the oven in a five-hour process) came out. Five snails, slightly smaller than a cows eye, sat on the white dish. He was shocked. Even when he ate the centipedes and spiders in his village, he couldnt think about eating snails. He had tried them, once, but had a bad experience with the snails transparent fluids. It was a flavor he couldnt get over despite his roughened taste buds. And, now, on the white plate, five snails shells were filled to the brim with a blueish gel-like substance. Mu Ssang shivered at the deja-vu of that experience. It looked like a hawk-moth caterpillar that had been stepped on in the cabbage fields. The blueish-green, hawk-moth caterpillars body was larger than a mans thumb. It was disgusting enough for city people to shake in fear after seeing one of them. The feeling of one of those squished under his bare feet was too much even for him, and the escargot brought back memories of that. The caterpillar was full of green, sticky, and slimy liquid. The recalled memories stopped his hand from moving toward the escargot. Pief lifted a large needle, licked his lips, and asked, Est-ce que cest le plat vous voulez? (Do you like this dish?) He continued, Lescargot avec le sauce moutard. Cest trs bon. Jaime cet saveur. (The escargot with mustard sauce. Its very good. I like the flavor.) Aha, la moutarde! Mu Ssang acknowledged. Luckily, the gel-like substance on the snail wasnt its fluid. Pief explained that the escargot was in mustard sauce, but his memories of the snails and caterpillar back home were hard to lose. The culture shock had yet to fade. Mu Ssang glared at the gel-filled snails with unfounded hatred. Eventually, he picked up the tongs and needle as if they were torture devices. He did so because he saw the price: one snail cost over 10 francs. He felt that it would be a wasted opportunity if he passed up eating such an expensive dish. Park, you eat it like this. Pief grabbed the shell with the tong, prodded then pulled out the flesh with the needle, and ate it as if he was mocking Mu Ssangs hesitance. His movements were well-practiced. I know how to eat it. I was praying. Mu Ssang, who didnt want to appear weak, pulled out the flesh, using the techniques he had used when he ate the Korean freshwater snail, and shoved it in his mouth. Ha! Pief hadnt been joking. The chewy, yet soft, texture went well with the mustard sauce and gave off a strong flavor. Mu Ssang had no choice but to cast off his previous conjectures about snails. They were delicious, so delicious that he wished to use snails in experimental dishes when he went back to Korea. Up next was the consomm soup, then fish, sorbet, meat, p?t a la viande, salad, cheese, and dessert. They ate for over two hours. The p?t a la viande was sometimes called foie gras, but foie gras was the main ingredient. The foie gras was chopped, covered with sauce, and pressed into a mold and cooked. And Mu Ssang, who ate the foie gras according to his wishes, wasnt that taken with the dish. He acknowledged its smooth texture and subtle flavor, but it was far too greasy and squishy for him. He had judged the French people as savage after seeing them eat snails, but he was surprised at their ability to use all kinds of things as ingredients. The quality of the dishes set apart the trainees cafeteria from the commanders dining hall, reflecting the differences in the mens stations. One more surprise was waiting for him after the meal: the price. The exorbitant amount was well over his weekly pay. It really is a self-serving society! He exclaimed. The food that could fill his stomach wasnt that expensive, and the food that made his eyes happy was very expensive. It reflected the power of money behind such a democratic society. Pief chose the fromage (cheese) as his last plate. After having a spoonful of it, he began to talk. Park, where do you want to apply? I dont know. Im thinking about it. What about the Deuxieme Rep on Corsica? The shooting squad? Mu Ssang had heard of them. The Deuxieme Rep was a place only the budding stars from Legion Etranger could go, an elite unit. It wasnt a place he could go to simply because he wanted to. Deuxieme Reps basecamp was on Corsica, Napoleons place of birth, exile, and interment. He also remembered that in Guy de Maupassants book, Une Vie, Corsica was the setting for Jeannes honeymoon. Curiosity rose within him. He didnt care where he was going, shooting or defense, but Corsica appealed to him with the blue-colored Mediterranean surrounding it, the Ponant (yachts) that came with the breeze, the several cruise ships connecting to Nice, women. Piefs offer provoked his other weakness. It was easy to convince a naive country boy like Mu Ssang. Deuxieme Rep has a different salary structure. You mean they get paid more? Yes. Their training is harsh, but the salary is high. How much? 30 percent more is an average, and you earn more during wartime according to your achievements and participation. Done! He accepted without a second thought. That was Mu Ssang. What kind of simpleton is he? Pief stared at the Asian blankly. He had prepared so much to convince him: gifted him a Dragunov, a popular Glock, an expensive meal, and had also prepared many convincing terms to lure him. He had done all of that when all he needed to do was state that the salary was higher. That was how the world worked. Some might say that, in hindsight, he knew it would turn out this way. But this wasnt foresight at all. Frankly, Pief shouldnt have been that surprised. Mu Ssangs aim was simple: earn money to find his mother. So getting an offer for a higher salary was like the gospel of angels. The fact that the training was harsh didnt even reach his ears. The more important requirement for a sniper, between talent and skill, was the talent of good sense and patience. Training could help them improve their concealment, movement, foresight, scoping, communicating, gathering, and shooting. Heightened senses and the endurance to overcome stress could only be improved a little through training. Innate talent was the best thing and the reason why, despite the number of snipers, only a few were special. Mu Ssang had surpassed the level of the snipers in the special forces and was considered a god sniper. That was why Pief liked him. And with that, Mu Ssang chose to follow the path to hell. *** The Ecoles three-stage training was squadron-based tactical training. It was a week of using personal, squad, and platoon firearms. The goal was to be prepared for night attacks and learn defense tactics. They trained using grenades, light flares, light machine guns, heavy machine guns, and anti-tank rockets. The final stage of Phase 3 was four days of non-combat training in the Pyrenees. Phase 4 was mainly filled with the assessment and testing of individual trainees. The final test was a 150-kilometer full military march. One-hundred real bullets were used for the final test. Grenades flew in the middle of the march and machine guns shot at them to create a realistic situation. The trainees were attacked out of nowhere, constantly putting them on the brink of death. The training created anxiety so that none of them would let down their guard, even for a moment. Tired and stressed trainees cheered when the three-day march came to an end. The disgusting four months of training was over. Mu Ssang became a legioner deuxieme classe (second-class soldier). The annoying adjective, second-class, was because of his sniper training. He had received the lowest rank, but he was moved by the gesture because he had become the kind of mercenary he had only heard of. This applied to Korean soldiers, too. Once they received certification as a second-class soldier, they cried. He was only a second-class soldier, but his salary was 1050 francs, 100 times more than the 2500 won that Korean second-class soldiers earned. The exchange rate made it 262,000 won, in total. The salaries of starting bankers in Korea was only 120,000. Just looking at the salary made Mu Ssang obligated to bow to Jang Chi Soo and that rotten police force. They had been the ones who had made him a convict, exempting him from conscription. In Legion Etranger, ones specialty and position were determined during the fourth stage of training. Mu Ssang, who was caught in Piefs intricate plan, was transferred to Deuxieme Rep, the 2nd Foreign Airborne Regiment. Around that time, a refreshed Jang Shin was put back into training. He promised to support Mu Ssang unconditionally and join the Deuxieme Rep, too. The other two Chinese men who had enlisted with Jang Shin went to culinary posts. Deuxieme Rep was always the first unit to be dispatched overseas, so the chance of dying was great. Even Jang Shin became an outlier because he was Asian and wanted to apply to the Deuxieme Rep. So Mu Ssang moved to Calvi, a town in Corsica, where the 2nd Foreign Airborne Regiment was headquartered. The French island, shaped like a fist and an index finger, sits in the northern Mediterranean Sea. The island is 8680 square kilometers, slightly smaller than Gyeonggi-do, and has a population of 300,000; whereas Gyeonggi-do has four-million people, quite a difference in population density. Corsica is a beautiful island, which is why the French call it ils de beaut (beautiful island). Its a favorite vacation destination for the French, and celebrity-owned villas are scattered all over the island. Ferries run frequently from Marseilles, Nice, and Toulon by Carpe Rio to Corsica, giving the French easy access to the island. Corsica was ruled by Islamic powers until the 10th century. From the 14 century onwards, it was ruled by Genoa (an Italian state). However, they were unable to withstand Corsican resistance and sold the island to France in the late 18th century. Under constant foreign domination, the Corsicans became united diplomatically. Tourism became the biggest sector of Corsicas economy, but the native Corsicans did not necessarily favor the mainlanders. They did not welcome French rule and do not consider themselves French; they call themselves Corsicans. The Airborne Regiment of Legion Etranger settled in Corsica because of its excellent topographical training conditions. In the northwestern part of the island is Mount Cinto, rising 2,710 meters above sea level. Mountain ranges of more than 2,000 meters above sea level branch from it. The alpine areas were covered with snow for half the year, so they could continue training for mountain survival, skiing, and ski jumping beyond winter. The long coastline was also suitable for offshore training. Corsica had a mild Mediterranean climate, with short winters and hot, dry summers. Similar to Korea, winter was December to February, and summer was June through September. The hottest temperatures did not exceed 30-degrees Celsius, and in winter, the temperature did not drop below 0. It was a nice place to live, not too cold nor too hot. Vrrooom The 3000-ton supply ship Orleans entered the port of Calvi. Eight-nine sturdy men carrying military bags slipped through the deck. Men, welcome to hell. Chapter 9 That was the first greeting from the staff sergeant. The regiments garrison was in Calvi, a resort town on Corsicas northwest coast. It was across the Ligurian Sea from Cannes, famous for its international film festivals, and Nice, the largest resort in southern France. It was a popular tourist destination, and every summer, the number of passenger ships departing for Corsica from Nice doubled. The headquarters of the Deuxieme Rep (2nd Airborne Regiment) was in a white fortress atop a hill overlooking the sea. It was built during the 15th century and reinforced by the 17th-century Genovians. The view of Calvi Port from the fortress was spectacular. Passenger boats and fishing boats traveled slowly to and fro on the deep blue Mediterranean. Men and women entangled themselves in embarrassing poses on yacht decks. With some luck, viewers could see groups of dolphins jumping in and out of the water. Mu Ssang was assigned to the 4th platoon of the 4th Battalion of the Deuxieme Rep. It consisted of two general combat platoons, one explosives platoon, and one sniper platoon, which was 140 people: six officers, a squadron commander, a platoon leader, 30 sergeants, and 100 soldiers. On the second day after receiving his assignment, he started training. The program focused on infiltration, destruction, and escape. They worked on a variety of skills, including high-altitude parachuting, mountain terrain traversing, skiing, reconnaissance, sniping, martial arts, diving, swimming, explosives detonation, communications, duty organizing, street fighting, cold weapons use, heavy weapons use, weapon operations, and driving. The sole purpose was to turn these men into battle droids. They did ensure that trainees had rest and free time, but the training was hard work. They called the training an invitation to Hell. The instructors greeted the recruits with the words, Welcomes to the gates of Hell. And within two months, five recruits were unable to endure the training and left. Gates of Hell? Mu Ssang snorted. His body was different from the others bodies. When he ran through the hurdles with deadly determination, he could finish the 100-meter lap in 6 seconds. He could speed through 10 meters and jump up to 7 meters. He had the endurance of an adult marathon runner and the strength of a bull. Because of the strange change that his body had gone through when he was eleven, it became strong but unstable, a double-edged sword. At 20, his master taught him martial arts, and through the Combined Repetitive Expelling Theory, he stabilized his body. Monk Dae Woo stopped him from being a ticking time bomb, and Legion Etranger gave him his teeth and claws. After systematic training with modern weapons, Mu Ssang became a warrior and a sniper. On Corsica, the ils de beaut (the beautiful island) in the Mediterranean, they refined the best and the worst killing machine in human history. The real Hell for Mu Ssang was swimming and diving. He had grown up next to a bridge that crossed the Nakdong River, but unfortunately, dog-paddling was the extent of his swimming ability. The unpredictability of the Nakdong River caused drowning accidents every year. Park Jin Bo and his wife worried about losing their only child and kept a constant eye on him to make sure he didnt play too close to the river. So, he never learned to swim. When he was a slave in his uncles house, he no longer had time to learn to swim. The Deuxieme Rep did not accept his flimsy dog paddling. Sergeant Bernard of the diving division could not ignore this. Coldly, he tied Mu Ssangs legs together and threw him in the sea. Mu Ssang swallowed so much seawater it made him hate the milky limestone cliffs and the cobalt sea. The Bijindos surrounding seas and the Mediterranean Sea shared the same indigo color. The Bijindo seas indigo was the source of heartbreaking memories, and the indigo of the Mediterraneans salty waters became another gate of Hell where foul words automatically welled up. Even the Deuxieme Rep veterans had doubts about passing the 2000-meter underwater swimming and tidal training. He had to rely on flippers to complete the underwater swim. If his head broke the surface, a club flew his way. Upon reaching the shore, he had to cross 500 meters of knee-deep marshy wetlands. A 7.62-millimeter bullet passed over his head like the wind. The recruits teeth rattled because of this vicious training. After the training, they gave them 90 minutes of weapon maintenance before dinner. The recruits awaited this more eagerly than they wanted a woman in their bed. Nine members of his squadron had finished the wetlands infiltration training and were laying with him, half-comatose, on the beach. He enjoyed the sunset from the sand with squad members Goldman, Emil, and Chartres. The April Atlantic wind was warm, and it tickled beneath his ears as he began to doze off in its passing softness. Goldman was a new recruiter, Emil was a two-year veteran, and Chartres was a 10-year veteran. Goldmans face had turned white from tiredness. Mu Ssang, Emil and Chartres held a slow conversation. Emil, do you think this is the end of our swim with the fishes? At Mu Ssangs words, his partner Emil laughed, Why? Are you disappointed? Not at all, I hate fish. I like eagles. Park, if dont take the air training seriously, youll be hurt badly. Youre too reckless. A single mistake can turn you into a frog falling from 10,000 feet in the air Chartres, the veteran, gave him advice. Im not big-nosed, Chartres, you are, Mu Ssangs French was still extremely lacking. Park, you should date women so you can improve your French. It will take a lot of talking to seduce one. Emil, stop it. Hes innocent, the type of person with a chastity belt on his penis. Not like you, who goes around everywhere, Chartres bounced Emils advice right back at him. Wherever there was a military, there were women. Whether a veteran or a newbie, they all rushed towards the backstreets of Ajaccio during the weekends. Since all they did during the week was eat and train, they swept the streets looking for a place to vent their energy like a bull in heat. Mu Ssang never joined the hunt. He had sent Hae Young away, but he never thought of that as the end of their relationship. Chastity wasnt only for women. He would have been ashamed to look at her otherwise. On weekends, he looked out on the horizon from atop the walls of the fortress. He drew his mothers and Hae Youngs faces in the sky. He recounted his masters teachings and went over the names that were on his death list. Why are you not tired, Park? Goldman had returned after emptying his stomach and looked at Mu Ssang with a tired look. Im tired. You Koreans have high endurance. F*cking hell! Goldman kicked the sand and turned around. He was a Spanish mixed martial arts champion, so he was confident in his physical ability. But he was exhausted and fatigued while the yellow-skin Korean had the energy to joke with his senior officers. Private Emile elbowed Mu Ssang. He is a racist. Except for Jews, he considers everyone else inferior. Like a Kedajjak. Mu Ssang wanted to hit the back of Goldmans head. What kind of trash was he? Kedajjak? Japanese are Kedajjak. Oh, its a cultural thing. Chartres joined their conversation. Hes a Jew like I thought. I knew it ever since I heard the name, Goldman. A name with gold or silver in it is always a Jewish name. Just like them, so attached to their money, huh? Mu Ssang didnt reply to Chartres words and rolled his eyes. It seemed like cultural disrespect between countries existed everywhere. Here come the real racists. Mu Ssangs and Chartres heads turned back to the beach. Sergeant Paul Mike and two other soldiers were coming up from the beach. Mu Ssangs face crumpled. Mike, a black man, was a racist and an American imperialist. When he meets Asians, he calls them monkey. His father had been stabbed to death during World War II by a Jap as he called the Japanese. The two soldiers attached themselves to Sergeant Mike. Mixing words with them always caused a scene. Mu Ssang covered his face with his Booney hat. Hey, theres a yellow monkey sunbathing, Mike shouted to his soldiers. Ha, look at that bastard, hes swearing at you! Mu Ssangs expression soured. It was obvious that the sergeant wanted him to hear. Emil and Chartres glanced at Mu Ssang, but he pretended not to hear. It was bothersome and not worth it to react to the bullsh*t. Its a monkey that shoots and dances well. At the soldiers words, Mike laughed. Can a monkeys toe fit in the trigger? Even the Peking duck shoots a gun, why cant a monkey? At the lack of reaction, they talked in loud voices. Why should a monkey be here anyways? We should send them to the zoo. No, you sell talented monkeys to the circus. They dont have b*lls. A monkey doesnt have the gall to do anything but giggle at bananas. Emil couldnt bear it any longer and said, Park, the dogs are barking. Mu Ssang didnt feel anything. He liked how the sunlight hit his side and warmed him. It would be depressing to have this mood ruined by those ignorant people. A soft voice leaked from under the large Booney hat, Leave it. Dogs bark, humans cant. Sergeant Mike heard the broken, rough words, and his mood soured. His rough, tanned face instantly turned red. What did you say, monkey? He walked over, stomping on the sand. He looked like a deer with large antlers trying to conquer a doe. Youre blocking the sun. A provoking reply came back, Soldier, Im your sergeant. Stand. The military order within Legion Etranger was harsh. But they were promised some free time from it. They had more free time than normal company workers. Currently, they werent working or involved in an operation, so there was no reason to submit to a brash person. Its our free time right now. Move. Youre blocking the sun. You monkey sh*t! Bang Sergeant Mikes combat boot crashed down on Mu Ssangs head. F*ck! What the hell? his friends shouted in shock. At that moment, they all imagined a cruel sight, Mu Ssangs damaged face. Wait. What? Emils and Chartres eyes grew larger. The place where Mike had struck was empty, and all that remained was sand. Mu Ssang was lying down a foot away. It looked as if he hadnt moved, as his hat remained in the same position. Emils eyes moved frantically between Mikes foot and Mu Ssang. Emil, is Mike blind? And so this special forces sergeant became known as the blind soldier. Maybe its different than it seems? By the way, Im afraid of what might happen when Park gets angered. Legion Etranger was full of scum from all around the world. It was a place where people of all races, religions, and ideologies gathered. There were frequent fistfights, but nothing more severe than that. But Mikes actions were at a level where they couldnt be tolerated. He was a racist who caused many problems even on normal days. He was the type who got more confident in front of a crowd. Chartres sat up immediately. Mike, what do you think youre doing? Stay out of this, oldie. Chartres nickname, since he was over forty years old, was oldie. Mikes face crumpled even more. Bang He pushed Chartres shoulder violently. Youre going too far. Ha! At Chartres objection, Mike snorted. His nostrils enlarged, and the hair inside dangled out. Damned bastard, you should be cutting your nose hairs instead of annoying me. Chartres stomach began to growl, worried about his dinner. Too far? Are you talking about me or that monkey? Mike lifted his right fist showing Mu Ssang, and punched his left fist against his right arms bicep. This was a rude gesture in France. It was the same as holding up a middle finger. Mu Ssangs expression creased. Ha, this f*cker! Emil was angry. Mikes actions were over the line. Mike turned back to his friends and asked, Hey, Miller, what did we do? We were going back to the tent until the monkey called us b*tches, and therefore we stopped. Ha, theres a b*tch here, too. A laugh escaped from Mu Ssang. Mike turned to stare at Chartres. Thats what he says. Mu Ssang stood. His intention of spending his time leisurely before dinner had been erased from his mind. Sergeant, are you happy when I call you blackie? F*cking bastard. He said the last swear in Korean. His accent was lacking, but the meaning was certainly delivered. Swearing was done by the innuendos of the words and not by the language itself. The gestures, expressions, and tone were what made it swearing. Mikes eyes turned red and his normally angered look intensified and turned his scowl even darker. He had been tried for several violent incidents because he was the type of person who lost all reasoning when angered. Chartres face hardened because the sergeant was on the verge of exploding. He worried about Mu Ssang who was provoking a boar in heat. Mike would not stop just because someone advised him to. Monkey, take off your hat. This is not the time when I heed orders. At his strong words, Mike finally exploded. Putain, son of a b*tch! Mike, exclaiming a mix of French and English expletives, launched forward with two arms spread wide. Argh! he exclaimed as he fell unconscious to the ground. Park stood still. No one saw the fist that landed squarely on Mikes jaw. The onlookers had no idea what had happened. Huh. Sergeant, are you digging your own grave with your penis? At Chartres words, Emil laughed. His mouth twitched with the urge to say something, but the backlash of chewing out a sergeant was large. Mu Ssang glared at the soldiers who stumbled about then took off his hat. Red-nose, do you have a death wish? he asked, recognizing one of the soldiers. Flying viper! Red-nose shrieked as he stumbled back and thought that if this was the flying viper from the Ecole, then Sergeant Mike had definitely picked on the wrong person. Take him away. Red-nose and the other soldier helped up Mike and disappeared like lightning. What did you do? Emil asked Mu Ssang. With their trained eyes, all they had seen was Mu Ssang throwing his fist forward while avoiding Mikes lunge. Monkey uppercut! At Mu Ssangs simple reply, Emil choked out a laugh. He didnt know the reason, but he felt refreshed. Whats the deal with the flying viper? Just, something. In places where people gathered, there was always a dynamic like this: a bastard, a vain person, a nice person, and those who went with the flow. *** The Deuxieme Rep the first to be sent out when foreign intervention was needed. Unit operations are independent, but operational orders come from the 11th French Brigade. According to the command system, this battalion of the 11th Brigade was the first target to fall. A soldiers purpose is to kill the enemy, and he moves on command. Even if he didnt want to kill an enemy, once ordered, he had no choice but to do so. But murder was murder no matter how it was reworded. When you kill others, you must also be prepared to die. To decrease the chance of dying, an increase in abilities is necessary. When he was a teenager, Mu Ssang had crossed many hills of life and death. He knew the difference between the living and the dead already. His body had exceeded human limits. What was the point of Carl Lewis running 100 meters with a lap time of 9.7 seconds or running 100 meters in 20 seconds? He couldnt expect any more from the Deuxieme Reps training regimen; it was simply warm-up exercises for him. He was a soldier of the second rank, he was not in a position to ask for personal training. Mu Ssang was anxious because he didnt know when the Deuxieme Rep would be dispatched. South Koreas military tensions against North Korea were high, but no Korean soldier thought war would occur. Legion Etranger was different. Headquarters could dispatch them to the battlefield tomorrow. France officially had no overseas territories. Only West African countries, former French colonies, were still under French influence. When France needed armed forces, they sent out troops from Legion Etranger. It is deployed immediately according to strategic and tactical needs. Thats why they fed them well. They never knew when theyd be sent to the battlefield, and bullets werent choosy about whom they hit. This is why Mu Ssang risked his life to learn the Five Combined Movements. The person most prepared survives. He even trained during his free time. That was why Sergeant Mike had teased him with the name dancing monkey. Corsicas clear air and Deuxieme Reps systematic training became a hammer to refine his mind and body. The Five Combined Movements training became the fire that would forge his mind and body and take it to the next level. Monk Dae Woo had referred to Mu Ssang as Asuras incarnation. Corsica was where Asura washed with fire, worked with a hammer, and prepared to face the world. *** 10 weeks had passed since he had moved into the Deuxieme Rep when Jang Shin landed in Corsica, as promised, after completing his Ecole training. He showed excellent talent for handling explosives, so Pief had assigned him to the 3rd platoon, which dealt with firepower. *** 400 meters south of the fortress, where the Deuxieme Rep trained, was a coastal cliff called Corse that was about sixty-six meters high. Beneath the cliff, the rough waves of the Mediterranean clashed constantly. Mu Ssang became a part of the cliff. Two hours had passed since he began his meditation at its edge. Crash The waves scattered into foam. His meditation ended, and he stood up. He began to unwind his body by expelling and taking in energy. Warmth gathered in his body. This was a continuation of the Combined Repetitive Expelling Theory. Unlocking the 36 veins according to the paths of his lowest, highest, and middle cores took more than three hours. Pief had granted him this time. The Resonance that his master had talked of was slowly coming to him. Foreign energy flowed through the body, and sometimes it was hot and sometimes cool. Meditation helped him focus that foreign energy into a specific area. Concentrated Resonance dramatically increased the destructive power of his hands and feet. It could break rocks and crush trees. Chapter 10 10 years ago, at 18 years old, Mu Ssang had met the third cause of his physical change. He had earned his surprising senses and strange hiding abilities through his meeting with Chui Do Shik. He was a man who Mu Ssang wanted to chew on, but he couldnt deny the fact that his physical abilities had grown because of Chui Do Shik. He had learned the Five Combined Movements and the Combined Repetitive Expelling Theory when he was 20, after meeting his master. Legion Etranger provided him with modern weapons and combat techniques. If the two previous experiences gave him an increase in physical abilities, the third gave him attack skills. The ability to throw bulls, a neutralization which caused him to seep into nature without traces, the way of enclosing on distant objects, and the god snipers ability to hit more than one target per second Although modern warfare had been reorganized around collective tactics and high-performance weapons, the world would be astounded by his skills and abilities. Mu Ssang recalled his masters advice, once more, and hid his abilities as much as possible. What is the limit of my abilities? he wondered. He had done his best when fighting Chui Do Shik and his subordinates on Bang Tae San, but there had been no reason to use everything in his power. He became frustrated not knowing his limits. After unleashing much of his concerns he jumped from Corse into the night sea. Gah! With a long shout, his slim body was sucked into the sea under the rugged cliff. Plop His body shot straight down without more than a small splash breaking the waters surface. Then it suddenly rebounded and rose back to the surface. He was like a seal, swimming through the night waters easily. Splash splash Each time he raised his lean arms to cut through the waters, his body shot out. He no longer dog-paddled like he had in the Nakdong River. This was the swimming skill of a highly trained Deuxieme Rep mercenary. As soon as he reached the coastal cliffs, he started climbing the vertical wall. He looked like a roach in the way he attached all of his limbs to the slippery surface. He used a technique in which he moved both of his limbs on one side of his body, at the same time, over the eroded coastal cliffs that overflowed with protrusions and gaps. In two minutes, he could climb 70 meters. Todays goal was to decrease that by 10 seconds. The rhythmic movement stopped. He was six meters from the top. There was a man on the cliff, and he could feel his menacing aura. Soon he detected another presence, but the second man stopped without closing the distance. A man who sought out him in his night training could not have come in good faith. Is it someone with a grudge against me? Those bastards think Im weak when I dont do anything. Mu Ssang didnt think about it for long. Night training was official personal training given to a soldier with the commanders permission. Anyone who interrupted such training could be punished. He finally had a chance to hand out punishment. Ha! His body, which was attached to the cliff, shot up as if someone was pulling him from above. He climbed three meters with a single movement. It was like climbing a dragons back using the fearless steps of his martial art. Ahhh! Sergeant Mike, who had been hiding, shouted in fear. He was so surprised that he fell back and landed on his rear. After all, it was past midnight, and a black creature had jumped up out of nowhere before the bright moonlight. He was only human after all. Sergeant Mike, are you taking a stroll? Wha, what are you, a ghost? Mike stuttered as he struggled to regain his senses. Im not a ghost. According to you, Im the yellow monkey. The monkey bastard? Once his fright settled, Sergeant Mikes anger started to thunder again. He had come to dish out some expletives but had instead become a laughingstock. You dumbsh*t. Do you dare hit your sergeant? You said something racist. I will tell them about that at headquarters. Sh*t, you f*cking monkey! Sergeant Mike grit his teeth. As a place where people from all around the world gathered, a racist exclamation or discriminatory action could land him in an immediate disciplinary hearing. He could, at the worst, be kicked out of his station and be relocated. Hmmm, it seems like youre more monkey-like than I am. Maybe a gorilla? Mike was a big man who weighed 120 kilograms and had a bent back and long arms. Mu Ssang searched him from head to toe and mocking laughter hung on his face. You coward, are you planning to report me like the wh*res on the streets? Whats cowardly? Im simply using the rights I have. Arent you trying to avoid my vendetta by using the law as an excuse? Vendetta? Mu Ssang tilted his head. He had no idea what a vendetta was. Was it a challenge to a fight? Another member who had been in hiding approached them. Hey, Park, are you training here again? Pitiful, pitiful. Chartres, youre like a vampire sneaking around at midnight. Mu Ssang knew Chartres had been there, so he remained calm, but Mike was surprised. Ugh, why are you here, old man? Park, a vendetta is the Corsicans tradition of revenge; they settle family issues with a formal fight. Since Corsica had been continuously invaded and colonized since the 10th Century, with foreign powers constantly fighting over their lands, the relations created by blood became more valued within society. When a relative was murdered by an enemy or a blood-related woman shamed by someone, Corsicans created weapons. That was the beginning of the vendetta tradition. The word refers to a tradition of revenge for ones kin. Chartres explained without even bothering to look at Mike. Mu Ssang understood Chartres explanation, but he didnt understand what that had to do with the sergeant and himself. He had done nothing for which Mike could take revenge. He hadnt touched Mikes sister nor had he mocked Mikes wife. Blood revenge? Why would you want that? You humiliated me. This calls for the vendetta. Mike pulled a dagger from his pocket and growled like a beast. The moonlight shone off the knife. The handle was made out of deer bone, and it was double-sided. It was a dagger that Corsicans made for revenge. Of course, it was only made as a tourist souvenir, now, often seen in the markets near the city. Ha, Ive never seen a guy like this. Why are there so many idiots who cant differentiate between right and wrong, nowadays? Youre saying that the punishment from yesterday wasnt enough, huh? Youll come to your senses when you get pummelled, I suppose. Mu Ssang laughed at the situation. There was no way Mike would understand the Korean he was using. He switched to French: Chartres, youll be the witness. Go ahead, Mike. Chartres turned pale. Fighting in the middle of the night was enough to get them kicked out of the military. He knew that just being there would get him kicked out, too. No! Chartres spread his arms as he pushed Mu Ssang back. I followed the sergeant because I was worried. Just let it go. A personal fight would mean a hearing for all of us. Go away, oldie. Mike pushed Chartres shoulder away, and because of Mikes inhuman strength, Chartres fell to the ground. Mike immediately jabbed his dagger forward. Bloodlust started to seep into Mu Ssangs eyes. That strike had not one ounce of hesitation. On top of that, Chartres had still been blocking his sight. The guys eyes didnt shake either. This bastard stabbed at a fellow soldier, like a beast. Mu Ssang felt that they were truly mercenaries for the first time: men with a job to kill. Mike was excited. He thought that this was the perfect chance to attack Mu Ssang. From his experiences so far, this one strike could end this entire fight. He had no intention of killing; he just wanted to stab him in the stomach, enough to land the monkey in the hospital. His pay would be cut, and he would go to prison, but he had gone through all of that before. Right now, he had to do something about Mu Ssangs effect on his mood. It was an example of his twisted pride. Bang Mu Ssang slapped him hard. Mike lost consciousness for a brief moment like a switch flipped on and off. He didnt know how the yellow monkey avoided his attack or when he was slapped. Slap The other cheek got hot. At the two slaps, the 120-kilogram man turned around before collapsing into the ground. Mike was once a South American boxing champion, but with two slaps to his face, he became disoriented and could not counterattack. Chartres jaw dropped. Aghhh! I should have listened to Red-Nose. He was hit in the face, but the pain was spreading all over his body. Mike gritted his teeth and held back his moans. He regretted his actions, but it was too late. He cursed himself for not listening to Red-Noses advice. A broken tooth got caught in his throat. He doubted if the Korean was a human. The second blow had been much stronger than the first. If he was hit one more time like that, he would die. Mike desperately opened his mouth. Stop it, dont do it. I dont understand. Why do these scum only come to their senses after being hit? Mu Ssang murmured in Korean, kicking Mikes side. Cra ack The gentle kick broke his ribs. Ahh! Mike fell. Mu Ssang grabbed his ankles and dragged him to the edge of the cliff and held him upside down by the ankles. Crash splash The waves growled from beneath the cliffs. Ahhh! Mike was terrified and screamed as if his lungs were being torn apart. Once this yellow monkey opened his hand, he was going to fall 70 meters onto the jagged rocks below. The sound of the waves crashing and the sight of the blue moon made his fear exponentially sharper. He had lived a rough life, but it was the first time he felt such fear and pain. He pissed on himself while held upside down; the yellow liquid fell on his face, but he couldnt even feel that. Mike, youre trash. You should die. These cold words, offering no room for negotiation, filled his ears and cut through the sound of crashing waves. Please, save me. Im sorry. When he heard no reply, he became nearly petrified. Time passed slowly. Mike, youll watch your words. If I ever hear you saying or doing anything racist. we will meet here once more. Of course, then, I promise you the thrill of free-falling these 70 meters. Okay. I promise. I swear on my country. Mike shouted in case his voice wasnt heard. Im not interested in your country. Im thinking about a man falling 70 meters through the air, you see? Hmm? Mu Ssang smiled cruelly. I swear on the cape noir. I wont do it again. Save me. You fell while you were on your midnight walk. Right, I fell off some rocks. Mike nodded valiantly even while he was upside-down. Hey, be careful. I can feel my grip loosening. Mike stopped immediately. Ill let you live today. Next time, youre dead. Mike couldnt even nod. He was going to die in the hands of this little devil. Mu Ssang pulled him up as if he was pulling a radish from the ground and threw him back onto the cliff. He showed incomprehensible strength. Mike lay on the ground and breathed roughly. He gathered his breath and clambered to his feet while swaying. He glanced at Mu Ssang before running into the darkness. I feel so inspired right now. I wish someone else was here to see this. Is this a special kind of martial art that only Koreans know of? Kind of. Mu Ssang replied. Wind blew out of your hands, like one of those Kung Fu movies, didnt it? Chartres had not seen Mu Ssangs hands move, but he had heard about Asians knowing martial arts. Mu Ssang didnt know whether to laugh or cry and found his expression changing into something strange. Its a secret, huh? But still, cant you teach me? I want to learn. Chartres, air doesnt come out of palms. At those words, which didnt sound like a joke to him, Chartres face crumpled. But the strength you showed just now A man couldnt hold onto someone as big as Mike with one hand. Even a black mountain bear wouldnt be able to do so. He didnt know whether Mu Ssang could blast air from his palms or whatnot, but he had witnessed an unrealistic show of strength, for sure. Shh, Chartres, you werent here tonight. Mu Ssang stopped him from talking. Yes, I turned in early. Chartres nodded his head. From that night onwards, Mu Ssang and Chartres became closer friends. Friends only grew closer through sharing secrets, after all. *** It was a holiday weekend, so all the off-duty mercenaries had crawled into town. The training grounds were empty. Mu Ssang wanted to test how much power he could extract. He intended to measure the kinetic energy that occurred when his fist hit an object at full speed. Jang, help me out. Eh! Im going out. He was in formal wear that was pressed to the point it could cut his skin. His eyes narrowed like a buttonhole. It was the face he made when he was unwilling. Jang Shin went into town during holidays, drinking and brushing up against women. He enjoyed the casinos, returning with empty pockets. Chinese people enjoyed gambling, mahjong and dice more than Koreans loved gostop. Mu Ssang fully understood Jangs actions. There were only sweaty men around them all the time and a foreign life that limited their communication. A young man in his mid-20s cannot live like a monk. Jang Shin didnt understand why Mu Ssang didnt enjoy women, alcohol, or gambling. When he had time, he practiced martial arts or read books. It was frustrating just to see him go about his day like that. One time Jang Shin forced Mu Ssang to the casino. Mu Ssang stopped after pulling on a few 1-franc machines. He recommended Baccarat or Blackjack, but Mu Ssang rejected every recommendation. This is too complicated. Jang Shin was flabbergasted. How could such simple rules be too complicated! Park, why are you letting your imagination and determination rot? Go fondle some breasts in the city! Mu Ssang laughed. Jang, dont risk your life, too much, going through as many women as you can. Youre not risking your life on this job to waste your money on them. Spend some of the time that youd otherwise use on women with your friend. No. Why are you living such a boring life? You dont want alcohol, women, nor casinos. Whats the point of living then? Theres no mercenary like you in this world. Didnt you say that you had a wife in your hometown? Ho Ming is my housewife. Housewife? Why are you mentioning a housewife? Housewives give birth and manage the household. What the hell is this guy talking about? Mu Ssang was confused. It was hard to understand this small Chinese mans culture. Perhaps there was a special meaning behind calling their wives housewives. Mu Ssang, at 182-centimeters tall gazed down at Jang Shin, who was 167-centimeters tall. Are you allowed to grab other women when you already have a wife? Are you a child or a rich mans son? A husband works for money, and the housewife raises the children. Of course, we are allowed to grab other women. Does that mean you do not interfere in each others personal lives? If a housewife cheats, you must beat her to death. Ugh! Mu Ssang grabbed the back of his neck in response to Jang Shins calm voice. Having sex with other women while Hae Young sits at home? That was something he would never think of doing. Then, what happens to the man who cheated? Men do that. Jang Shins reply was firm. It was as if he was reaffirming that chickens had two legs. So the wife who cheats on her husband should die, and the man who cheats on his wife is normal. Is that what all Chinese people think? Obviously. He sounded as sure as the four legs of a table. Mu Ssang felt his energy drain. He had heard that China, despite being a communist country, had a society where women were respected. Apparently, that was a false rumor. What youve just said doesnt make sense. I find you the strange one. Youre handsome and tall. Youd be popular among women. Popular? Youre talking about the money I have. I dont want to mingle with them. He was in his early twenties when male hormones were supposedly raging. Of course, Mu Ssang had thoughts about women and times when the built-up energy soiled his bedsheets. The problem was his sensitivity. His senses were tens and hundreds of times stronger than the average human. It was hard for him to endure the perfume that the Western women wore. His sight also created problems. Being as sharp as an eagles, his eyes could see a womans sweat, blemishes, and the loose skin here and there, which killed his desire quickly. He could also hear every conversation the prostitutes had and hear the women in the bars talking amongst themselves. Often, their conversations were about how much money they could get the soldiers to spend on them, killing his desire even more. It was also hard to endure the foul breath of the people in the bar, and he hated the smell of the men who had just been with women. Ignorance was bliss, but he had knowledge. How could he lust after a woman who had slept with another man just several moments prior? This was the reason for his monk-like life. Damn, I need to at least have a drink. Jang Shin grumbled. At Castelnau Bridge, Mu Ssang became a Da Ge to him. He grumbled, but in Jang Shins mind, whatever Mu Ssang requested was an order. Theres alcohol here. Mu Ssang pulled out a flask from his back pocket. Oh, thank you! With this one bottle of alcohol, his resistance fell to the wayside. So what kind of magic are you trying to do? Mu Ssang smiled and raised his fist. I want to test how strong my fist is. Oh? I want to know, too. Jang Shin held the stand, which was as tall as his chest, that Mu Ssang directed him to hold. He placed a 1-kilogram dumbbell on it. In front of the dumbbell, he placed a hitting board that was covered in thick leather to prevent broken bones. Jang, I want you to measure the time of the dumbbells flight. OK. After finishing the preparations, Mu Ssang went into his ready stance. His two feet stood firmly on the ground, and his back was straight as if to hold up the sky. In a stance that looked unmovable, he controlled his breathing to focus his weight into his lower body. He felt like a strong log, the completion of a stillness willed by the heavens. A cold aura passed from his brain to his body; it shook momentarily. His fists and arms grew cold. This was an occurrence that had begun several days ago. The strength he gathered from his feet climbed up his spine. His fierceness spiraled through his body and pooled into his fist. Crash A strange sound, like a cannons blast, rang around the grounds. Many soldiers were outside enjoying their holiday or taking a nap. If not, they would have panicked at the sound. Uh! Uwoooh! The dumbbell shot forward, and Jang Shins jaw dropped as he watched it. Jang, wake up! Ah, sorry! The first test was a failure. Jang Shin, surprised at the display of power, had forgotten about measuring the time. He hurried to recover and place the dumbbell. Bang The dumbbell soared through the air, again. Jang Shin pressed down on the second counter and measured the time. The dumbbell shot forward like a bullet and fell 100 meters away. Its flight took 2 seconds. Mu Ssang calculated the force behind his energy. 1/2*1*(100/2)^2=1,250J, and the average after three tests was 1,300J. A 5.56-millimeter Famas bullet had the physical force of 1,700J It was a rushed calculation without consideration for air resistance and impact. By looking at these results alone, his punch had the same power as a machine guns bullet. Mu Ssang recalled a great resonance he had felt upon aiming at the object. He wasnt sure, but it seemed that it was the resonance wave his master had said would take 20 years to achieve. Hahahaha! A joyful laughter escaped him. Chapter 11 It was a destructive power comparable to a small rifle. With such power, his ability to become one with nature, the sudden bursts of speed, and offensive regenerative abilities, it seemed as if he wouldnt die so easily on the battlefield. Rather, he had reached the point where he had to hide his abilities or else he was going to be targeted. Its a nightmare. Jang Shin stood there looking at Mu Ssang with a blank stare and his jaw hanging open. Mu Ssang laughed. Logic got in the way as he tried to understand the supernatural display of strength before him. He knew that Park was an amazing human, but he didnt know that he had long overstepped human boundaries. He was also a top-tier, 8-mixed martial arts champion. With some special training, a human could become stronger than one might imagine. But there was a limit to the human body. A human couldnt gain the speed of a tiger nor display the strength of a bear. The skeleton wouldnt be able to support anything beyond its limit. Jang Shin, before being awed by the display Mu Ssangs power, feared even more for Mu Ssangs body, which had endured such a shock. How can I, a human, understand a monster? Jang Shin shook his head. He simply had to accept that his friend was a presence that went beyond human comprehension. Trying to understand it with logic and his frame of reference gave him a headache. Jang Shin had also considered himself a champion of the 8-mixed martial arts, but his skills were no incomparable to Mu Ssangs. It was better to remain silent in a corner. Park, was that the Expelling Principle? I dont know. Master told me it was resonance. Resonance? Thats my first time hearing of that. Sounds like one of those Expelling Principles. Park, are you normally capable of controlling your power? Well, I didnt know my power was this destructive. Be careful, if you hit someone like Mike so carelessly, you might kill them. Ill be careful. Jang Shin made a gesture as if to lock his mouth. Nothing good could come from revealing a power that was beyond the norm. Haha! Mu Ssang smiled. This was a friend who understood him. He wasnt quite human, and he had killed some people. Many idiots became handicapped after he handled them. When he lost his reasoning and made a scene, destruction occurred. Now he understood a little of what his master had been thinking when he persuaded him into becoming a mercenary. Park, please be careful. Mu Ssang had once wiped the floor with the Odd-Ears group at Castelnau Bridge. Jang Shins master could have done that, too. But the power he saw this time around was on a different level. It was the kind of power that could break his spinal cord if Mu Ssang simply patted him on his back after getting drunk. Jang, do you want to warm up? Jang Shins face, after receiving a request to be a sparring partner, crumpled to the point of rotting. His hands flapped violently. No, non! He recalled the last time he had last played around with Park. Shivers ran through his body. He liked Park, but he didnt want his spine broken. The idea of playing around with his friend permanently left his mind. *** Year 1982, mid-August. A long line, like a line of ants, appeared on Mt. Cinto. Those climbing the mountain were equipped in full military gear. They were short of breath, and every khaki uniform was drenched in sweat. It was the Deuxieme Reps 4th squadron that was thrown into sudden mountain training. While the other squadrons had left for their holidays, they had been thrown into this hell. Even Jang Shin, who had been planning to go to the Ajaccio markets, was there. The 136 members of the squadron moved their feet while cursing out Commander Pief. Mt. Cinto was in the middle of southwest Corsica. In the world atlas, it was called Monte Cinto, but it was in actuality a mountain range of 20 mountains at around 2000 meters high. Mt. Cinto filled most of Corsicas central region. It had been four hours since they started their march. The path wasnt easy. Some of the climbing paths were as narrow as a rabbits path. They sometimes passed through forests where there were no paths at all and had to cut down leaves with their jungle knives, and push through it. The soldiers climbing the elevated slope were breathing like trembling grass. Their military gear, which had seemed a light 40 kilograms, in the beginning, had magically started to gain weight throughout their training session. Their shoulders were pressed down by the gear and leaned towards the ground. They were bent forward to the point that their noses could touch the ground. It was a representation of their draining stamina. Straighten your backs, and tuck in your chins. Dont open your mouths. The officer shouted at them continuously, but everyone was still on the verge of eating the dirt beneath them. There was one person who was fine. Mu Ssang had even taken the Minimi rifle that private Emil handed to him and strung it around his shoulder. He carried 40 kilograms of military gear, the Dragunov, a 7.5-kilogram Minimi rifle, and a 10-kilogram bullet box. There were no restrictions on helping partners during training. Mu Ssang was rapidly climbing the cliffs of Mt. Cinto without a single drop of sweat on his face. While his comrades were hanging their necks out like herons, he took in the scenery around him. Sometimes he committed the crime of pulling out the cistus flower (a special flower representative of Corsica) on the road and smelling it. He had once climbed up and down the river banks with three sacks of rice on his back at dawn. The 70-kilogram weight didnt affect him as much. Emil was still panting even after handing his firearm and bullet box to his partner. Mu Ssang carried a weight that bordered 100 kilograms, now. Emil, who was trailing behind him, shook his head. Park, youre too much. Are you even human? Emil complained. And as he spoke, even more strength left him. Why? Do you want to entrust your bag to me, too? No. You monster. Emil acted as if he was pouting. His decision to give up the machine gun and choose Park as his partner was a good decision. A talented partner was a lifeline. Mu Ssang remembered the time when he used to clean out the outhouse. The buckets of feces weighed the same as his military gear. He carried them twice, often before noon. So he had already marched with such a weight at the age of 12. Im human. If you clean the outhouse before noon, you become like me. What are you talking about? It was something Emil would never understand. Mu Ssang looked around at his comrades. Everyone had at least half of their tongue hanging out. Weaklings, look at them struggling. If they had carried a bunch of outhouse buckets when they were young, like I did, they would have been flying around like I am. If they would have understood Korean, they would have buried him in Mt. Cintos western mountains. The feces buckets had to be cleaned every season in the middle of Hajungdos willow forests. Minnows swam up the river in a line, the cicadas buzzing tore through the air, fields of well-blossomed chrysanthemums, flocks of mallard ducks turned the sky black. Jin Soon gritted her teeth to hold back tears, his master waved while smiling like a fool, Hae Youngs scent of melting ice cream and her soft skin His mother whose life or death couldnt be determined, Jang and her abusive family on whom he had not been able to take revenge, his uncle who disappeared without a trace, and many other memories welled to the forefront and messed with his head. Damn, its a hometown I want to throw away, so why do I have so many regrets? His hometown wasnt something that could be abandoned simply because he wanted to. Mu Ssang shook his head and threw out his worries. Beep beep beep The corporal leading the march gave the signal to rest for 30 minutes. The soldiers collapsed in their spot. It was the second break of their five-hour march. It was 43 kilometers from the Calvi Garrison to the summit of Mt. Cinto. Half of their march had been on flat land, and the other half was up the incline. Deuxieme Reps training march was 6 kilometers-per-hour on flat land and 4 kilometers-per-hour on the mountain. After a rapid march, they were given a 30-minute break after every 150 minutes. When an adult walks on flat terrain, the average speed is 4 kilometers-per-hour. North Korea says that their reconnaissance brigade female warriors march a 60-kilometer mountain pass overnight, but that was a blatant lie. The body would not be able to tolerate such energy consumption. Mountain marches generally consumed four times the energy of flat terrain marches. Of course, differences depended on the terrain. The average person could march uphill at 1 kilometer-per-hour and downhill at 3 kilometers-per-hour. Depending on the terrain, it could be difficult to travel 15 kilometers-per-hour for 10 hours. It was not easy to go on a mountain march at 4 kilometers-per-hour in full military gear. Deuxieme Reps mountain training base camp was located at 2300 meters above sea level, on the ninth ridge of Mt.Cinto. The camp was just a small cabin, currently managed by the 2nd company and could accommodate one company. Todays destination was that cabin. Only six kilometers remained. Mu Ssang took off his sweat-drenched military boots, uncovered his neck, and dried his feet in the warm sun. His head reeled at the awful stench of his feet. As much as his heightened five senses had given him an advantage, there were as many inconveniences. The soldiers rested comfortably along the gentle slope. Thirty minutes was not long. Even the well-trained Deuxieme Rep found the 20-kilometer flat/20-kilometer mountain march a difficult training session. Oh, you were here. Mu Ssang was searching through his backpack then took out a flat, tin hip flask. (There is a rumor that Al Capone designed this flask to hide alcohol in his places of business.) When he turned the cap and opened the flask, a deep rich flavor of wine filled the air. Wine consumed in the middle of a march not only hydrates the body but gives one the necessary energy to recover from fatigue. Mu Ssang had a habit of taking at least two bottles of Sciaccarello when packing his bag. He had acquired his hip flask by going all the way to Ajaccio in the southern region just to drink the Sciaccarello properly. It was heavier compared to the assigned aluminum flasks, but he had splurged on it because it maintained the liquids temperature. I knew it. Jang Shin shoved his face in front of Mu Ssangs. He was Chinese to his very bones. That meant he enjoyed alcohol, gambling, and women. He couldnt resist alcohol no matter the type or flavor it was. Emil also shoved his head forward. That smells nice. Ha, did you smell that from beyond a hundred meters? What are you talking about! I came here to see my friend. Jang Shin denied it. Yeah right. You look as if youre about to propose marriage to him. Emil twitched his thin lips. The two always fought over their relationship with Mu Ssang. They especially fought over whether ones status as Mu Ssangs partner was more important than the other ones status as his friend. A thin line of red wine trickled down Mu Ssangs mouth. Jang Shin glared at the thin streak like a vampire lusting after a womans neck. Take some. Emil snatched the flask. Partner first. Jang Shin, who had missed by a second, frowned. Im his brother. Coolies arent the same race as Koreans. Emil made a rather logical and historical point. He shoved the flask in his mouth just in case Jang Shin would steal it. With a gulping sound, his throat moved. Jang Shin couldnt wait any longer and snatched it right out of his mouth. Sciaccarello? Mu Ssang nodded. Good choice. Emil raised his thumb. Corsicas Mediterranean climate, with mild weather and humid soil, allowed Corsican farmers to grow the grape called Sciacarello. The Sciacarello grape had a subtle, sweet flavor and deep scent that lingered for a long time after one drink. When one drank Sciacarello and closed their eyes, the blue wind of the willow forest could be felt blowing around. It was the wine that the flight attendant served Mu Ssang on the airplane, a wine that recalled memories of his hometown mixed with love and hatred. Because it brought forth memories, Sciacarello was the only alcohol he came to like. White wine was strongly acidic and bitter, and sweet white wine was good to drink cold. The sweetness harmonized with the sour and bitter taste. On the other hand, a red wine with a strong sour and bitter taste was good to drink at room temperature. Sciacarello was a wine with little difference between the way it tasted cold or at room temperature. But he had heard that tin flasks were good for maintaining the wines temperature, which was the only reason he bought it. Jang Shins hand shook slightly as he held the flask. Even a martial-arts-trained body could not stand the five-hour rapid mountain march. Jang, you must be very tired. Like, wow, your hands are shaking. Emil smiled sneakily as he started to tease him. Who gave his partner all of his things to carry, even his weapon? I dont think I should be hearing that from someone who entrusted his lover to another man. Emil didnt even get to make his point and backed down. Wow! Jang Shin shot back the wine to the point that his entire neck rumbled. Now that he had delivered Emil, someone who lingered around Park, a definite blow, the wine tasted better. He drank wine the way people drink beer. Emil dug around his bag. He tossed a heavy lump to Mu Ssang. It was Fleur du Maquis, a Corsican cheese wrapped in ivory leaves, one of Mu Ssangs favorite snacks. Emil looked back at Jang Shin and stuck out his tongue like a child. The two men fighting like girls before Mu Ssang reminded him of the Jin Soon and her sisters. She should be doing well, right? She had to be. Red wine went well with meat and cheese, and white wine went well with seafood. Of course, this was something that usually happened after work at dinnertime or a relaxing holiday dinner. The mercenaries were on the verge of collapsing from fatigue and thirst. They were too thirsty to be choosy about their wine. The most expensive alcohol in the world, Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac, was invented in 1776, and one bottle made the Guinness world record after being sold for 22 billion dollars. But, at that moment, it would have been no different from a bottle of water. To relieve his thirst, one bottle would have been enough. After exchanging a sip each between Emil and Jang Shin, Jang Shin finished off the alcohol and threw the empty flask at Mu Ssang. Great alcohol! Mu Ssang, who took up the empty flask, frowned. Pay me back. Five times in interest. Emil laughed. You bastard. Youre saltier than Shylock. Ill give you a whole box of it. A mercenarys partner had his back in the mercenary world. It was a relationship closer than brothers. Emil was three years older than him and was a two-year veteran, but they remained close friends. Jang Shin forced himself into this friendship, and therefore the trio became friends. The Deuxieme Rep respected privacy but enforced the rules. They allowed drinking during training. Whether wine or whiskey, they allowed it. What they were strict about was the actions that came after drinking, such as accidents or irregular training patterns. They had to know how to handle their alcohol. Korean soldiers who hid alcohol in their water bottles would have been envious of this aspect of the training. Jang Shin paled. Peng you! What? Youre going to Chad? Yes. The risk payment is the same as my average pay. Emil intervened. If my partner goes, I go. I need to protect my partner. Jang Shin glared at Emil. Youre going to protect the matchless? Its the first time Ive heard of a rabbit protecting a tiger. Bullets dont avoid Park. Ive chosen a fat, middle-aged woman as my partner instead of a slim lady as my partner. This time, Emil was mad. Jang Shin flinched slightly. Emil was a sniper, and, for Park, he had taken up the machine gun instead of the Epal that he had been carrying around for two years. That couldnt have been an easy choice. Dont you regret it? I do, but if I want to support Parks sniping I need to take up the machine gun. Jang Shin felt as if he was being pushed out of the group by Emil. He had only received help from Park, who he had acknowledged as his da ge. There was nothing he had done for him in return. Im going, too. Im going to protect my friend. Oh, the yellow bomber is going to rampage around the desert. Emil laughed as he ran away. Wang ba dan! Jang Shin shoved a potato in Emils mouth. Peng you, youre really going? Going. Jang Shin gritted his teeth as if he had come to a decision. Fine, if were going to die, we should die together. Theres extra pay for stolen weapons, too. It should go to my wifes hospital fees. Hows Ho Ming? She got the surgery thanks to a friend, but she isnt well. Shes at the Haier hospital in An hui. You should earn a lot. Im going to work for five years then set up a restaurant. Mu Ssang glared. You spend all your money on prostitutes and casinos, so when and how are you going to set up a restaurant? Jang Shin narrowed his eyes and scratched his head. Alcohols my foe. Its frustrating. Thats why I only buy the cheap stuff. If you get your citizenship, bring your wife over and live together. Im going to. Peng you, thank you so much. Of what? My wifes treatment fees! Ill pay you back soon. One month prior, Jang Shins wife, Ho Ming, was gravely injured in a hit-and-run car crash. She needed a lot of money for the surgery, but Jang Shin didnt have it. Mu Ssang found out about it and gave Jang Shin all of his savings: 4000 francs. Were friends, and you said that Im your da ge? Koreans dont calculate money between brothers. Money is used by the one who needs it the most! Mu Ssang wanted to laugh at the white lies he was spouting. His uncle had taken all of his grandfathers inheritance, and when his brother had died, he had captured his nephew to use as a slave. He had also sold all of the tangible goods his younger brother had acquired. Korea was a place where brothers fought each other because of an inheritance. Wow, Koreans are amazing. Chinese have a lot of brothers killing each other for money. Thats because your countrymen are ssangnom. Whats ssangnom? People who are not educated and dont know gratitude and love are called ssangnom. Mu Ssang recalled his uncles family. That was the very example of ssangnom. Right. China has a lot of people who dont know gratitude, are uneducated, and unkind. He had thought Jang Shin would be mad at him, but he wasnt; he accepted it. It seemed he, too, had his difficult past. But arent there people like Mu Song and Song Kang, people who are loyal? Hahaha! Jang Shin laughed. Thats all a lie. Chinese people will do anything for a little bit of benefit. China is a country that respects people who kill and commit all kinds of crime, even those who are con men acting as heroes. Its a country I was born in, but I dont like it. Jang Shin didnt have a handsome face. The edges of his eyes lifted, and the ends of his lips were pulled down. His nose was flat and his cheekbones were high. It was a face that invited fights. But aside from his looks, Jang Shin was an intellectual who had graduated from Tsinghua University. Jang Shins personality repaid his benefactors a hundredfold and took care of grudges a thousandfold. Well, there are things about your country that I dont understand. From Water Margin, Chaewonja Jangcheong and Moyacha Son Rae come to mind. A couple at a restaurant kidnaps an innocent pedestrian and fills him with dumplings like a pig, and they were praised as heroes. That behavior is too unethical to be rationalized as a cultural difference. Mu Ssang hated the Three Kingdoms, Journey to the West, Water Margin, and the Jin Ping Mei. This is because of the cruelty and deception of the Chinese people. The Water Margin was especially terrible. Every character in the Water Margin was cruel. They were supposed to reward the good and punish the bad, but they were not human beings with a moral compass. A mass of anarchists and psychos met at Mount Liang. Sigh, I also left my hometown because I didnt like the people there. I received pure help, for the first time, from da ge. Since da ge doesnt like that, Ill treat you like a friend. I wont forget this gratitude. Jang Shin looked at his friend, who he regarded as a da ge, with complicated eyes. He could defeat 10,000 people but didnt reveal his strength. Mu Ssang was the wise man that his master had talked about, the representative of martial arts. And he was the representation of humility. He didnt buy a separate uniform from the one that was assigned and bought all the equipment that he needed from the general store and not the city. The only splurging Mu Ssang did was to spend a little money on the Sciaccarello. He was three years younger, but Jang Shin gladly regarded him as a da ge. The first benefactor in his life was Mu Ssang. A gaoribangzi was a person who was strict on oneself but lenient on others. Jang Shin thought of Mu Ssang as a gaoribangzi. He had thought that he was a naive man, someone who didnt know how to play, didnt know how to spend money, and was a leader but not a street smart person. Mu Ssang had given him all of his savings as soon as he heard that he was in a tough situation. After reflecting on the money he had spent on women and alcohol, Jang Shin was so embarrassed that he wanted to climb into his gun barrel. Chapter 12 People want strength, whoever they are, and once they have it, they wish to display it. Mu Ssang had stepped beyond the realm of ordinary human beings. He recalled the moment when he had suppressed three white, bear-like humans with one move at Castelnau Bridge. He didnt seem to understand how strong he was. When there was a conflict, he backed away from it, and when there was a fight involving him, he lowered his head first. He had amazing self-control considering that he was only 20 years old. It was the only stroke of luck that had descended on his bleak life. What gratitude are you talking about? I have no immediate need for money. Money is earned to be used. If I dont use it when its needed, all it does is smell. Jang, you can also help other people in need. Mu Ssang waved his hand as he refused Jang Shins offer to pay him back. But even as he said that he recalled the stereotype: a person becomes a mercenary to earn money. Every franc was valuable. Even when he was handing the money to Jang Shin, his hands shook slightly. He had acted as if he was very generous, but, on the inside, he knew that he was vain. A receiver doesnt forget a grudge and also doesnt forget gratitude. Mu Ssang picked up his gear, gun, and bullet case. Dont look at me like that. I have no interest in men. Jang Shins face, at the lackluster response, wrinkled. His friends French wasnt very fluent, so he could not tell whether he was joking or being serious. Beep beep Break time flew by. Hmph! Jang Shin took the machine gun from Mu Ssangs arms and handed it back to Emil. Hey, Emil, in China theres a proverb that says, the person who ends it is the one who finished it. Since we dont have much farther to go, you should carry it. Oh, I like those words. Simple and stupid Emil took back the Minimi immediately and sat it on his shoulders. Theres really such a proverb? Mu Ssang asked with suspicious eyes. I made it up just now. Hehehe, idiot, Mu Ssang laughed at Emil. The march resumed. The lead officer and the surveillance officers ran about like mad. The soldiers scurried after them with their tongues hanging out. With their deployment to Chad just around the corner, their mountain training, unlike the previous years, had become more difficult. In the past, they had only marched to the edge of the 2nd brigades campsite then returned to the fortress. This time, the course was divided into three stages. The first stage was following Mt. Cintos path and arriving at Corte Natural Park. The second stage was from the Corte Natural Park, using the North 193 highway, to the Ajaccio port. The third stage was along the shoreline and returning to Calvi. In total, the training they marched over half of the island, covering over 300 kilometers. Half of the course was filled with rugged terrain for mountain climbing and cliff climbing. It was an extremely difficult course, and the soldiers faces had soured while listening to the briefing given by their commander. At least the path from Ajaccio to Calvi was along the coastline. When they marched along it, the Mediterraneans western cold winds, called the Ponant, cooled their sweat. Compared to the Korean militarys special forces 400-kilometer march, this was nothing. The Korean Special Forces marched the distance over seven nights and eight days. On the last day, they ended the training with a continuous 100-kilometer march. Their monstrous training was known around the world for its intensity. Of course, this was something Mu Ssang, who had lost his right to enlist in the Korean military, didnt know. The cantonment was outside. Sleeping bags filled the park and clearings in the forest around Mt. Cintos peaks. Nothing was more like a slave-training camp than this place. All that was there was a tent and an ammunition case. Bivouac was a term that originated from the word biwak used in Germany. It referred to a cantonment created by the surrounding terrain, a sleeping place without a man-made roof or walls. It could be made out of natural caves, a debouche, or by burrowing oneself underneath a bunch of leaves. Mu Ssang gathered the leaves and laid them thickly on the ground before spreading his sleeping bag on top of it. He had survived for seven months sleeping on the rock-hard floor of the cave. An outside camp with a sleeping bag was like a hotel suite to him. The moon was the same one he had seen from his hometowns bridge. The silent night brought about all kinds of thoughts. Hoot hoot The owls hoots pricked at his mind. I need to find my mom soon. I wonder if masters doing well? There were cuckoos cries, the silent but elegant moonlight, the blooming chrysanthemum fields, his need for Hae Youngs scent, and the Bijindo flat with the floor heater that burned to the point of burning his feet, all kinds of nostalgia attacked him. In the end, he couldnt get to sleep and opened his sleeping bag. The soldier who was on guard duty glanced at him and shook his head. The Famas on his shoulder clicked. He was annoyed that someone was awake when they should have been dead to the world, and Mu Ssang felt those vibes. He dragged himself along the rabbit paths. The moonlight shone down like a waterfall. Although the animals and plants were different, the moonlight here was the same moonlight that hung over the tip of Wol Song San. Fights between carnivores and herbivores sometimes broke the silence. Mu Ssangs hearing was several times better than a normal humans abilities, and his sensitive ears recognized the animal sounds. But the slight whining of an animal was unlike that in his hometown. Even the thick forest was different from the one on Wol Song San. Obviously. How could the experience on the bridge back then be the same as my experience in Corsica? Suddenly, the sadness of being in a place several thousands of kilometers away from his hometown poked at his mind. The full moon in the middle of the sky was surrounded by a halo. When it disappeared, it would rain. Now that he thought about it, there hadnt been any rain for the past month. The grasses, as tall as he was, waved underneath the moonlight and made rustling noises. He couldnt discern if it was silver grass or common reed. His idle footsteps stopped. A pale pink flower, smaller than an iris, extended its stalk over the tall grasses. It was a fully blooming cistus, a flower that could be found all over Corsica, just like the Korean wild chrysanthemum. There was an exceptional amount on Mt. Cinto. The flower was a mixture of a sweet-briar and a rose. The stalks were fragile and would break when a light wind blew. The pale pink petals were reminiscent of violets shyly squeezing through the gaps between stones. Is it the violets in the front yard or the dianthus on the fringes of Wol Song San? It was a flower that emanated its scent quite strangely. Mu Ssang flinched. He was thinking about the bridge again. His hometown was something that clung to his memory no matter how many times he tried to forget it. The light pink flower reflected the bluish light of the moonlight. Suddenly, Hae Youngs scent overwhelmed him. Ah, ahh! Mu Ssang cried out without realizing it. The tip of his nose turned red. Hae Young was a smart and wise woman. There was no chance she settled for that waiter instead of finding someone more worthy. She probably needed an excuse. Most people with too much pride did that. What would Jin Soon have done? She would have thrown everything away and worked at the Night BOSS to become a chef. She was such a woman. She had no regrets nor held grudges. She always thought about what she had to do to help. It was her personality. Just as Hae Young wasnt Jin Soon, Jin Soon wasnt Hae Young. Perhaps he was the coward here. He had read Hae Youngs mind and decided to move first. He tried to cover his pain in the pretense that he was sacrificing for another. He had done something childish to act like the better person. They were a thousand kilometers apart from each other and away from their hometowns. His body may have been strong, but his mind wasnt. Mu Ssang buried his longing under a bottle of Sciaccarello and the scent of cistus. He was only human, albeit a strong one. But he was no different from the people being killed by a bullet to their throat. Chad was going through an internal civil war and was a battlefield where a bullet could go through him at any time. He didnt have his family or Hae Young. If he had any regrets, he shouldnt be heading into the battlefield where bullets flew around. Perhaps it was because he couldnt forget the times he had with Hae Young. His mother had disappeared, and, even though he missed her, he couldnt forgive her. No, this wasnt a problem of forgiving but the unforgettable sadness he carried after being left behind. His uncle and the student, Lee Kang Chul, had some connection to his mothers disappearance, so that gave him a reason for her disappearance that he could accept. Now that he was older and his decision-making skills had matured, he realized that there was another reason for his mothers disappearance. But currently, he was not in a situation where he could search for her. He was too busy living and trying to fend for himself, and there was a continuous stream of things happening around him. After he was kicked out of school, he wanted to head to Lee Kang Chul and his uncles house to get his revenge. Ultimately, he had to board a plane without doing anything. He had no choice but to fend for himself when the military had been organized under martial law and soldiers were out for blood. If his master hadnt calmed his raging anger, he would have caused a huge incident. All the normal years that he had were during childhood and his teenage years, which only meant the two years spent with Hae Young. He had been young and weak, and therefore, used by the people around him. When had he not lived desperately in harsh conditions when he was so young? And somehow he had arrived in a place that was miles away from his hometown. He was living in a place he had never heard of and was eating and sleeping with foreign people. It had been eight months since he put on the military uniform, and this was a precious time where he could evaluate himself. It was a moment to solidify his determination to avoid being used by others again. The meeting with that strange skeleton was his fathers gift. It had to be his fathers advice that prompted him to become stronger and look for his mother. He had gained physical strength, but the flow of time had given him another kind of strength. That was a time when the legal umbrella of parental authority became the violence upon him. He was ignored because he was young and was crushed. Being protected by the law and being obligated to follow social conventions were powers that had controlled him. Mother, my poor mother, wait a little longer. Your sons going to make money and find you. Ill return the pain a hundredfold to the people who hurt you. I will teach them that there are people who will not forget a grudge, even after all those years. Mu Ssang murmured through his gritting teeth. Anyone can kill someone, but he had become mentally strong enough to accept that he could commit murder. Only Masters words that his tie with his mother had not ended, comforted him. You trash, just wait. Ill return soon. Mu Ssang couldnt handle his anger and struck the nearest tree. Bang The bark crumbled and the trunk exploded inwards. The tree that had been expelling fresh air valiantly during the day and was resting during the night had just been hurt by a bad guy. This place is heaven for me. The Legion Etranger didnt consider an individuals past as long as the applicant wasnt a criminal or drug user. They didnt care about anything else other than the current form and achievements they had made. He, who was rejected by his own country, was accepted by France. For him, this was a blessing. Legion Etranger was not an army that only trained and fed people. It was the first combat unit to be sent to conflict zones under French national interests. An operation could begin today, no one knew when a dispatch order would be issued. When the operation began, he would have to pour shells over his enemies heads and inject bullets into their hearts. They turned into wraiths that sought the blood of others while being bloody themselves. Those who take the lives of others must be prepared to abandon their lives, too, Chief Colonel Jean Philip reminded them all the time. He was right. Mu Ssang signed up for the Chad Civil War enlistment without hesitation. Death had always been a part of his life. It was a presence that he felt continuously in Bang Tae Sans cave. Human beings were mortals anyway. Being alive only meant prolonging death. The problem lay between whether you die slowly or suddenly. Death was a matter of how to die, not when to die. He was now about to find out what the honed beast within him would do on the battlefield. Peng you, you cant sleep, either? He seemed to have been walking for some time, lost in thought because when he lifted his head, he found Jang Shin who was a part of the third brigade. It was past midnight. Jang Shin was crouching on the floor and smoking as if he couldnt sleep either. The ground was wet. Jang, youll catch a cold if you sit on the ground. Mu Ssang looked around. He found a slab of rock that was about half the size of those oak barrels used for fermenting wine in the distilleries. It was flat, and therefore a good slab to be used as a chair. He lifted it and threw it near Jang Shin. Crash The ground shook. Jang Shin scurried away with a pale face. It was a rock that four men would have had trouble lifting. To think he would throw it around like a handbag! Even after witnessing such a superhuman feat, it was still hard to believe. Da ge! Just call me peng you. Or Park. Peng you, please be careful. Hmm, Ill try. A soulless reply came back. When Mu Ssang said that he would try, it meant that he would listen to the scolding but not take it to heart. One might wonder whether the man even recognized that he had inhuman powers. Park, have you ever killed a human? I have. Three years ago. Three years ago? Jang Shin was so surprised by the nonchalant reply that his sentence broke apart. If it was three years ago, then Park would have still been underage. Yeah, I killed six. Or maybe five. Li, liu? Xiang lai dou jue de xin jing dan jan de! (Si six? Just thinking about it gives me anxiety!) Jang Shin was so surprised that his liver sank, and Chinese popped out of his mouth. But even then, he didnt question whether this was a lie. Peng you Park was a man who didnt know how to lie. Jang Shin looked at his peng you with a tired gaze. He had assumed that Park had had a hard life looking at his scars, but to think he would kill not one, or two, but six people! Jang Shin couldnt ask anymore. It was because of the bitter smile that had appeared on his da ges face. It was an emptier smile than his flooded and washed out hometown by the Yang Ja Kang river. The several wounds and the horrible scar on his cheek told the story of a difficult life, but he had not thought that he would have committed murder, too. The conversation stopped. Jang Shins cigarette burned red. I have not killed a person. But there was someone I wanted to kill. Since its the past tense, Im assuming your target has died or youve given up. Gave up. Jang Shin gritted his teeth. Why? Its a big person who is hard to reach. Jang Shins face twisted. Rage welled up quite suddenly. The bastard had purposely hit Ho Ming without slowing down his car. He had disappeared without even stopping. His wife was badly injured and was still in critical care even after the surgery. Frankly, it wasnt even a hit-and-run. The bastard who had hit Ho Ming was Anhui Province Hefei Public Security Officer Branchs son. There was nothing he could do to him. At the astronomical amount needed for his wifes surgery, he had knocked on Legion Etrangers door. She had been able to undergo surgery thanks to Park, but for the second surgery, he needed even more money. All that was left was an organ transplant. Its because of your wife and son. How did you know? My peng you isnt a weakling. When theres something to protect, a man becomes vulnerable. Theres nothing more precious than family. It was what he said to Jang Shin, but honestly, he was talking about himself. Thanks. Im not saying this to reassure you. Its the truth. Jang Shins heart swelled. His anger slowly dissipated. What kind of life had Park led to know these kinds of struggles so well? he wondered. Wed have to kill people next month. In order to not die, one must kill. If you have to kill, you kill a lot to earn more money, Jang said with an uncomfortable tone. Jang, you shouldnt go. Ho Ming will be sad. Ho Ming is having problems. She needs a liver transplant. Didnt she already have surgery? She did have surgery with the money da ge gave me. But its not looking good. Whats the problem? The hospitals not sure. Chinese hospitals have low-quality care. Youd need a lot of money. Mu Ssang sighed. Thats why I need to go to Chad. I have to kill a lot of guerrillas to save Ho Ming. You need to kill to save? It feels like Ive really become a mercenary. I remember a novel written by Jun Pei called Humans Conditions. If Jang dies, Ho Ming becomes a widow. If Im next to peng you, I wont die. Ive got your back. I will pour explosives on peng yous enemies. Mu Ssang nodded wordlessly. Like Emil, he knew that Jang Shin had his back. The higher-ups didnt know, but Jang Shins gunning marks were legendary. Jang Shin used an area-suppression weapona mine thrower as a snipers tool. He also didnt reveal all of his abilities. It probably stemmed from his distrust of humans. Jang Shins expression darkened. Even if the training was hard, it was, in the end, just training. The battlefield was a different story altogether. He had to go out and kill people that he didnt know to save his wife. There was no way the 25-year-old young man would feel comfortable. Mu Ssang didnt feel comfortable either. He had been abandoned in the world at an age where his nose still ran, but he had somehow survived. Now that he had survived, his life had turned into something that could only continue if he took other peoples lives. What are the conditions for being human? Under what expectations should the humanity of a person be judged? He was in a foreign country 15,000 kilometers away from his hometown. The moonlight shone to the point where it was cold, but the two men, whose worries were weighing heavily on their minds, were somber. Even if there were no chirping birds from their hometown, the night brought intense feelings of home. Chapter 13 Year 1982, August. The situation in Chad turned around suddenly. FROLINAT (the Arab military union of Chads central northern regions) released the lockdown on NDjamena and retreated to Kanem. Unable to withstand the Western oil import and trade bans, Gaddafi ordered Chads troops back to his country. Gaddafi refrained from direct military movements but did not give up his ambitions for the central northern regions of Chad. The rebels and Libyan troops who retreated from NDjamena occupied the northern Kanem and Tibesti Boruku cities and waited for an opportunity. With Libyas errant attitude, France hesitated with its military actions. With the wrong reasons for engagement, they could be criticized by the international community for intervening. Mitterrand ran his presidential campaign on a good and kind persona and feared criticism. In the end, the deployment order was suspended. The French army stopped its military actions and decided to see what happened. The Deuxieme Rep stopped its deployment training and returned to its normal regimen. Rumors were rampant within Deuxieme Rep. They were mercenaries committed to improving their battle potential, but instead of being angered by the delay, they let out sighs of relief. Chads civil war was intense, and the risk of dying was great. Chad is a country in northern Africa, along the southern borders of the Sahara Desert. The population of Africa was 128 thousand per square kilometer, 12 million times that of Korea, but most of the continent was a wasteland with Sahel, desert, and mountainous areas. Chads population was concentrated in the southern agricultural region of the Chari and Logone rivers. There was no distinct industry, and cotton was the main product. The population was around 10 million: 50 percent Muslim, 35 percent Christian, and the rest believed in their native religion. Chad became independent from France in 1960. Independence became the starting point for their new suffering. The day brightened with the civil war, and the day ended with the civil war. The main cause of the war was a conflict between northern Arab Muslims and southern non-Muslims. The situation was not simple. An enormous mix of political groups and warlords lead each faction, so it became hard to distinguish between friend and foe, and the confusing state persisted. The cycle of yesterdays government-deployed troops becoming todays rebel repeated. The war was further complicated by the interests of neighboring countries such as the Soviet Union, the United States, Libya, and Sudan. This was a common phenomenon during the Cold War. France had been extremely cautious in its offshore deployment since the Indochina War. It was busy eyeing other countrys opinions before ordering a large-scale deployment. It was like being frightened by a snapping turtle then frightened by the lid of a pot right afterward. Mu Ssang lost steam. Returning to his daily life, he focused on his Five Combined Movements training and sniper training. Their dispatch orders had been suspended, but if the order came tomorrow, Deuxieme Rep had to move immediately. Pief ordered Mu Ssang to undergo free training sessions. Because of the physical differences between him and the other soldiers, platoon and company training no longer worked on him. Mu Ssang spent half of his free training time on sniping. The Dragunovs gunshots continued on Mt. Cintos ranges. He refused the high-performance sniper guns and insisted on the Dragunov. Since the late 1970s, high-performance sniper rifles with a bolt action of 1MOA and lower have flooded the market. Steyrs SSG69, Remingtons M40, Walthers WA2000, and many more were developed, one after another, with excellent range and accuracy. The French-developed FR-F1, called the Epal sniper rifle, made a name for itself because of its design and unique 7.5-millimeter bullet. The Dragunovs precision was 2MOA. By looking at the precision alone, it was difficult to rank it among the other sniping rifles. Strictly speaking, it was not a sophisticated sniper rifle. It was the middle ground between an assault rifle and a sniper rifle and had experienced brief popularity 20 years prior. Mercenaries spared no expense when buying weapons because a weapon that was the slightest bit better than another helped them survive. Mu Ssang was frugal but, similarly, didnt spare any expense on weapons. He insisted on the Dragunov because of three important aspects: durability, portability, and battering. It was ironic that all three characteristics were not related to sniping. Rather, they were required for an assault rifle. But, Mu Ssang wanted these features. Sniper rifles, because they focus on precision, sacrifice their durability. The Dragunovs durability is well known to be on par with the Acabo. Firearms had to perform on-demand, without any minuscule failures. No matter how good a gun was, it was just a stick when broken. For Mu Ssang who liked to fire rounds continuously, durability was an important factor. It was also very portable. While other sniper rifles weighed 7 to 12 kilograms, the Dragunov was only 4.3 kilograms, an assault rifles average weight. Its battering was the best. Dragunov magazines were available in 10 to 20 rounds. The Soviet military developed the Dragunov as a platoon support weapon, developing a 20-round magazine. It was the aspect Mu Ssang fell in love with. He used a sniping rifle like a machine gun. Durability, portability, and battering aspects were advantages that he would not do without. There were two main drawbacks to the Dragunov. The first was its rather low 2 MOA precision. That degree could be sufficiently compensated by his own spatial perception. The second was its 4x fixed scope. It offered night scope functionally, but it was much worse than the western scope. Mu Ssang did not consider the scope as a handicap. His eyesight was eight times sharper than an eagles sight. Besides, he had near-cheating eye enhancement passed down by his master, so he didnt dwell on the scopes performance. He willingly gave up the 62,500-francs worth PSG1 and chose the 4200 franc Dragunov. From ancient times, a superior warrior believed he could communicate with his sword, and, of course, Mu Ssang believed it, too. Since his contact with the skeleton at Wol Song San, he could see the spirit of heaven and earth. Humans sometimes engraved their presence onto certain objects. Human desires sometimes lead to surprising phenomena and consequences. Certain regrets could be born into a sword that had taken the lives of several people. The worn Dragunov that he had received in training, was also aggrieved. When the soul enters the reincarnation stage, the body, the shell of the soul, melts into nature. A contaminated soul that is not separate from the body was called an aggrieved soul. In the end, it was the demolition of a soul when it had attached itself to the body. The aggrieved soul becomes jealous of living beings. It creates a strong will to kill living creatures. The representative examples of such souls were the Ji bak ghost and the water ghost. Mu Ssang unconsciously suppressed the strength and control of his senses with the strength he had gained. His desire to see blood sprang up when he came into contact with a soul-ridden object. He was tired, and it was hard enough to live amongst the living. A spirit without a solid figure was beyond his concern. Having recognized this skill in his disciple, his master helped him control this ability with the mind-organizing laws. When an impulse was controlled, the suppressed hyper-perceptual ability evolved to spatial perception ability. A powerful pulse wave, like a radar, sensed the movement, vitality, and signs of surrounding objects, but he did not know the origin of this ability. Mu Ssang heard the numerous shouts of grudges that clung to his Dragunov during the training taking place as he awaited dispatch orders. It was time to climb Mt. Cinto and hunt Corsicas special wild rabbit. Pief called for Mu Ssang. Comment allez vous? (How are you?) Im fine! Mu Ssangs attitude towards Pief was strained. Ordinarily, he was supposed to say, Im good, and you? But the part of the greeting where he was supposed to ask about Piefs well being was left out intentionally. It made the conversation awkward. His feelings about Pief werent good because of the petit canard incident, and he wanted to give a blow in return for the greeting, but their ranks were too different. Pief had noticed his displeasure and no longer called him petit canard. Felicitacions (congratulations), your call name has been assigned by headquarters. Its Black Mamba. Black Mamba? He had never applied for a call name. And what was a call name anyways? Mu Ssang was confused. Legion Etranger allowed the use of fake names. Mercenaries who didnt want their identity to be revealed were assigned call names. Three months ago the regiment commander applied for your call name. Park, you will be called Black Mamba from now on. I understand. Mu Ssang replied uninterested. Three months ago he had demonstrated his sniping ability to his commander, high ranking officers, and aged commanders. He had been dragged there by his squadron commander and had to suffer for five hours at Mt. Cinto. The test involved sniping ten live mice at 800 meters, sniping 30 inanimate objects at 600 meters under a minute, imaginary moving target training, and much more. Some strange tests also required him to search for one bullet hidden somewhere on Mt. Cintos training ranges. The final test was a simulated battle to clear out an army of 30 commando teams that were from the 11th Brigade. After five hours of tedious testing, the result was the call name Black Mamba. He completed the test perfectly because there was a reward of 500 francs for each test. Thirsty for money, he could not lose the challenge. The day after the test, the regiment captain, whose mouth was permanently hanging open after witnessing Mu Ssangs performance, took him across the Ligurian Sea to his hometown of Toulon and bought him a meal. Mu Ssang accepted the call name with an indescribable emotion. Whether it was a call name or nickname, this was just another way for them to exploit his abilities, just like a company giving an employee a promotion. However, he didnt like the name Black Mamba. It was a large poisonous African snake with a big, ugly mouth and on the brink of extinction. It was an aggressive viper that bit the same target 10 times in a row and had 20 times the lethal toxicity of that of a cobra. It moved faster than a human, at 20 kilometers per hour, and those attacked by a Black Mamba were considered dead. It was the most poisonous snake in existence because of its aggressiveness, toxicity, speed, and persistence of attacking the target. It was large, growing up to five meters in length, and if it had a greater population like the cobra, it would have been considered the worlds deadliest creature. The call names of the French military worked differently from the English MI6s 007 system. If 007 was a name for an agent of that foreign division, then a call name referred to a secret mercenary associated with the French military. Call names were assigned to soldiers who were deployed into situations that couldnt be resolved by regular soldiers, and it was an extremely confidential matter. Only those who ranked higher than a regiment commander could apply for one. The legion commander had to approve the individual making the request, and the secretary of defense and had to be involved in the Direction Gnrale de la Scurit Extrieure (DGSE) verification procedure. After receiving a call name, the participant became subject to special management. All personal information was a secret. The military and intelligence departments kept an eye on Black Mamba without his knowledge. Pief felt good enough to die. There was no treasure like the one in front of him. With deadly shooting skills, rapid movements that those with average vision couldnt follow, the ability to empty a magazine in five seconds, and a persistence in hitting targets, Park was a creature deadlier than his namesake Black Mamba. What is a call name used for? A call name is a code name given to the best soldiers with special operational capabilities. Currently, Park, youre the only member of the Legion Etranger who has received a call name. The regiment commander will explain more, but all records for Park will be erased, leaving only the name Black Mamba. From now on, your status will be managed by DGSE, the Direction Gnrale de la Scurit Extrieure. Mu Ssang was slightly baffled. No matter how rule-abiding the army was, the military bastards had erased the name his father had given him and left him with the name of a disgusting snake with an ugly mouth. He wasnt happy. At the age of ten, endless hardships had followed him after he had sold a golden rat snake that he had caught at his uncles house. Meeting the sneaky, attacking, monster rat snake was the beginning of bad fortune that led to meeting Chui Do Shik at Bangtaesan. Recalling the features of Sai Dojiku, a cult leader and ninja sorcerer, shook his body. He had a thin body, a steep face with sunken flesh, protruding cheekbones, a narrowed edge around his shining eyes, thin lips, and some madness that exploded when the tip of the left lip twisted gently. Mu Ssang was still not free from a fear of Chui Do Shik. And now he was connected to a snake, again. Perhaps he had been enemies with a snake in his past life and making him destined him to receive its name. Was it the curse of that golden rat snake? And out of all those nicknames out there, why was it Black Mamba? Whats different? he asked in a sulky tone. You get paid an allowance as much as your salary. Pief mentioned the allowance first because he knew Park was a stupid person who had applied to the Deuxieme Rep for money. Oh, incredible! Park, who seemed to willingly accept becoming Black Mamba burst into exclamation. The corner of Piefs mouth went up and his nostrils fluttered. He thought of Park as a simple guy, someone who wouldnt complain as long as he was given enough money. He has been trained to read other peoples minds since he was young and read the commanders mind. Pief regarded him as a countryside boy, simple and stupid. It would be good for him to let him continue thinking that. Hamilton had suggested that if one lets himself be treated as a little dumb, hed be comfortable in an organization. With a call name, you wont be covered by existing military law. For example, the second-class Black Mamba is not punished for beating an Azudang (boss). Thats even better. Can I beat you? He gazed at Pief with a bloodthirsty gaze, revenge for mocking him. Hum hum, if you beat an officer above the rank of a company-grade officer, youre both tried in court. Although the system of assigning orders does not change, special operational orders are often delivered directly from the DGSE and the Department of Defense. Thats all I know about that. I dont know the details regarding call names. The regiment commander will tell you about your rights and obligations. Mu Ssang nodded. I will be sent into dangerous operations, but it pays more. Even if I create trouble, it will be glossed over. The secret must be kept thoroughly. I should not reveal my identity, and Black Mamba will only move under his call name. I understand it enough. You have a good head. Huhuhu! Pief drew back his lips and laughed. Thank you for your hard work, Ill be in your care. Piefs face brightened. He saw Black Mamba as stupid but also someone who held a long-lasting grudge. The procedure for assigning his call name had been carried out regardless of his intention. If he refused or started to fight against it, there wasnt much they couldnt refute. A sigh of relief came out. You will be removed from all training today. I was already exempted from it all. That was an informal exemption. Those with call names train themselves. Whether youre participating in a group training or not, it is all up to you. Thats very nice. Go up Mount Cinto today. You want me to catch a red deer? Yes. Hunt. Hunt? The animal rights protection services would put me in the oven and switch it on, Black Mamba refused. The French people were very picky about animal protection. Interestingly enough, France was also an absurd country where tens of thousands of pets starved to death during the holiday seasons. It was a strange country in which people would criticize a child pissing in a fountain while not blaming the dogs that sh*t around them. No one even picked up after their dogs. The officials cleaned it up without making pet owners responsible for it. A dispatch order will come soon. Dont worry about it, and keep your senses up to par. Okay. The man who became Black Mamba, after erasing his name Park Mu Ssang, turned to real-life training using live animals as his targets. There were a lot of red deer, and many weighed over 100 kilograms on Mt. Cinto. Deer was the number one game animal from ancient times to the modern-day. With its magnificent body, hot blood, and beautiful horns, it made the hunters go crazy, and its skin made excellent suede. Human greed did not know its end. Since the 19th century, Mt. Cintos red deer have been hunted ruthlessly. The Mt. Cinto red deer were removed from the game category during the mid-20th century. Authorities mobilized strong public support to prevent illegal hunting. Animal protection groups lit up their eyes, monitored, accused, and reported poachers. The red deer took advantage of human whims and dominated Mount Cinto. Large animals were a hunters dream. The hunters instincts were triggered when a red deer with a grand physique ran through the forest with its horns raised like thick branches. Black Mamba also felt the near-triggering sensation at the sight of those red deer. Unfortunately, now it was the 20th century, not the 19th century. Large game was as difficult to get rid of as it was to hunt. If caught by the animal protection groups, the situation could get complicated for Mu Ssang. Pief had told him there would be no problem, but that was because outsiders were extremely excluded in Corsica. Nothing good would come from causing trouble. The goal was to train, anyways. Small, fast animals such as rabbits and squirrels were the best targets for sensory training. An unlucky rabbit, 450 meters ahead, was caught by the scope of his Dragunov. The rabbit was busy eating underneath an oyster oak. Sunlight penetrated through the branches of trees, and the bushes and shrubs created stripes with it. The brown rabbit was in perfect camouflage in the environment. It could hide itself so completely that it was nearly undiscoverable by the average human. The target was the rabbits head with a diameter of 100 millimeters. The moment he pulled the trigger, the scope fogged up like a windshield on a rainy day. He quickly released his position and checked the scope lens. Nothing was wrong. As soon as he turned back into his position and looked into the scope, he was surprised. An elderly man suddenly appeared near the rabbit as if he had risen from the ground. Mu Ssang nearly screamed. If the lens had not fogged up, it was more likely that he would have shot the elderly man instead of the rabbit. The man had an old, bamboo, woven sack on his back that was filled about a third of the way with mushrooms. He was a resident who had climbed the mountain to collect mushrooms. This area was a portion of national forest designated as training ground for Deuxieme Rep, and public access was controlled. He did not know how the old man had crossed the boundary, and he waited for him to disappear. He didnt have the confidence to chase the man out saying that this was a military practice region. He could be accused of being a poacher. The Corsicans had been dominated by foreign powers many times since the Middle Ages, so they were naturally headstrong in their personalities. They even treated people from mainland France as foreigners. If he got noticed, the old man would immediately report him to the authorities. It wasnt going to be a problem for him, but he disliked thinking about the potential hassle. The wandering old man disappeared into the forest as did the rabbit. He suddenly turned his sight 15 meters to the right from where the rabbit had been. It was just a feeling. It was a feeling as if someone was tempting him to look there, and he found his original target, the wild rabbit. He finished aiming his sight on the poor rabbit. It appeared on scopes crosshairs right in front of him. Black Mamba was startled and looked into the scope again. The rabbit was still munching on the spot. He could use his unique sight to increase the size of objects. There was no word to describe what happened, so he just said that he could see well, but in truth, it wasnt simply seeing. It was feeling the object. It was looking at an object not through the eyes but by using his mind. He placed the head of the rabbit in the crosshairs once more and proceeded to get into position to fire. The rabbit appeared before his eyes as if it had been pulled forward with a telescope. It was the same feeling when one removed the dirt on ones glasses. The PSO-1M2 optical scope had a 4x fixed sight. There were several 16x-variable-type products on the market, so the quadruple view was considered low on the sniper rifles scope range. It was just over 450 meters away. He could clearly see the rabbits hair blowing in the wind. It was a ridiculous phenomenon at a 4x magnification. Even at a 12x magnification, it was hard to see such fine detail. Mu Ssang with his eagles eyes didnt even need a scope to see a target 300-400 meters away. What he saw was not related to his own vision or his scopes performance. He confirmed the target: the distance to the rabbit was 465 meters, and he was aiming for the rabbits right hind toe. Clang The moment the rabbit jumped, he shot. The rabbits toe exploded and blood splattered on its surroundings. He confirmed the hit and his expression turned queer. The poor rabbits hind toe had been blown right off. No matter how much he called himself a god sniper, this seemed impossible He had hit a moving animal, particularly its toe that was as small as a nail from 465 meters away! It was a tough story to believe even with all the exaggerating done at Calvis cafe. Chapter 14 The southern region had a tropical monsoon climate around the capital city, Enzame, near Lake Chad. Black Mamba was concerned about two things: one, that the old man appeared after his lens fogged, disrupting his aim and two, that the rabbit looked as if it was right in front of his eyes as if it had been pulled in view by a telescope. He decided to check it out. He aimed at a pine cone that was 300 meters away, but his eyes didnt zoom in on the pine cone. He saw a red deer farther away on the edge of the cliffs. He placed the deers head in his scope. The deers eyes were 1000 meters away but appeared right before his eyes. It was blinking right before him, so close that even a novice from Castelnau Bridge could have shot it. The strange vision didnt work on inanimate objects or plants, only on animals. An animal once targeted was easy to shoot even if it shifted positions. The scope had blurred because the target had been disturbed. The same thing would have happened if a deer had blocked his targeted rabbit. He came to the conclusion that his gun had a ghosts soul. His Dragunov wanted blood. When something became a target, this gun chased its blood until the very end. It was an incomprehensible conclusion, but he had long realized that not everything was what it seemed. This was a situation that could not be explained even with his exceptional senses. In short, when the worn Dragunov locked onto a human or animal, that target was going to die no matter what. It was something that would only exist in fantasy worlds as a unique item. Black Mamba stared at his old Dragunov for a long time. Looking at the surface imprints he could guess the age of the gun. It had been rolling around the battlefields for who knows how long. He could feel a lot of vengeful souls fused into the gun. It was laughable to think that there was a ghosts spirit not under the moonlit skies but under the mornings full sunlight. A cow would have snorted over, but it was the truth. There were many souls attached to the Dragunov; it had attracted them. Keankuma, at a situation where Im supposed to shoot like a ghost, youre being the ghost for me. How nice of you to be a ghost gun. He gave the Dragunov the name Goblin. Black Mamba kept his cool in this odd situation. Black Mamba had assumed incorrectly; his theory was far from the truth. The Dragunov had gone through many lives and had bathed in blood, but the experience Black Mamba had gone through with the sight was a dimensional increase in his spatial perceptiveness. It was the merging of the unconscious with the conscious mind. The training in the dark mountain cave, the training with the Five Combined Movements, and the sniping training had triggered the supernatural increase. If he concentrated, a huge wave would spread across his body from the core. It would read the presence of living beings like a radar. Even in the moment of the shot, heightened senses connected the target to Black Mambas mind. Because it was solely his power, the same thing would occur even if he picked up another weapon. The confounding phenomenon was not the guns doing but his own. Ive gotten my hands on an amazing weapon. Black Mamba was happy. Since he had earned the greatest weapon a mercenary could wish for, he couldnt have been more excited. He was a god sniper. Of course, there was no such official rank. Science had increased the guns and scopes functions, so it could be said that anyone could be a sniper. Of course, that was only considering targets that did not move. The first condition for being a good sniper was a mentality that overwhelmed the target. A good sniper had to suppress the target through their own focus to become one with its conscience, senses, and muscles. An Olympic gold medal shooter wouldnt necessarily be a good sniper because of their mentality. Within the scope, they would see blood burst forth from targets head and spread everywhere. There would be no sane sports competitor after witnessing that sight. The second condition rested on finding the target. A sniper would have to find their targets location in the briefest moment. They needed a keen perception that discerned obstacles from the environment. The third condition for a good sniper was physical fitness and lung capacity. If the sniper was weak, hiding for a long time would be a problem. Without control over their breathing, they wouldnt be able to shoot properly. The fourth condition was camouflaging. If found after firing a shot, the sniper would have to expect their own funeral. They could be a target of rage and revenge or be captured as a prisoner to be tortured. That was because a sniper wasnt protected under the Geneva Convention. The last condition was their sniping skills. The snipers skill was considered the least important of the many requirements. Such a person was so rare that only one in every thousand people appeared. A sniper who was better than the normal snipers were called elite snipers, and they had to be capable of shooting immediately and continuously. Currently, there was only one elite sniper in the Legion Etranger. It was Sergeant Mike who Black Mamba had been beaten up. Sergeant Mike was an sshle who always caused trouble wherever he went, but they hadnt kicked him out because he had elite skills. The oldest commander in the Deuxieme Rep, Commander Philip, understood the importance of snipers. He praised Sergeant Mikes skills. On Mt. Cinto, Black Mamba prepared the foundations for becoming a true god sniper. Year 1982, October 5th. After several issues had been resolved, the 11th brigade issued deployment orders. All of the Deuxieme Rep was to be deployed on the 15th of October. The members no longer had to worry over whether or not they would apply their training. Their dispatch day and the method of doing so changed continuously because President Mitterrand and Vice President Jack Lang kept pushing back the matter. The left-wing Mitterrand wanted to erase the colonial tradition, while the right-wing military and foreign affairs department wanted to cling to or expand their influence abroad. Mitterrand did not wish to put the uncharted country, Chad, on the policy negotiating table. Secretary of Defence Germain even went to the point of almost punching Jack Lang over the table when he kept pushing back the dispatch. Black Mamba knew nothing about Chad. His knowledge of the country was very limited. He knew that it was attached to the lower Sahara desert and that it was a country where black-skinned people fought every day. And to think they would name their country Chad. What kind of a name was that? Black Mamba wondered. In their native language, Chad meant lake. To think they would name their country lake just because there was a lake in the terrain was like naming Korea Han Kang after the Han River. But then he remembered those snooty westerners who thought similarly of his own country. Korea was a peninsula between China and Japan, and his home country was the one whose national identity was long eroded. When a person is continuously picked on, they become shy and introverted. And when continuous bullying persisted, they are bound to slowly lose their identity. In such a situation, the person was likely to lose even when there was a fair chance of winning. That was why Japan was arrogant around other countries, and humble with the United States. It was the only country that had not suffered the terror of the Mongolian cavalry in Asia. Japan had overpowered Russia, humiliated China, and ruled over Korea. The Chinese provided them Maruta, the Koreans provided comfort women, and Southeast Asians provided raw materials. This was why Japan looked down at other Asian countries. However, Japan was thoroughly shattered by the United States. It was struck by boundless military might and firepower, including the atomic bomb. The US wasnt an opponent they could fight with pure strength, and it became recognized as a mighty and fearful country. Their phobia of the Americans soon turned into envy and finally love. Koreas view of the United States was similar to that of Japans. The US had succeeded in crushing their longtime enemy, Japan, and because of the US troops strength in the Korean War and the post-war US aid offensive, Koreans were in fearful awe of the US. From a history of being endlessly invaded, Korea lacked national pride. It feared raising its head because it might be beaten back down by the United States, Japan, China, and Russia. Hae Young often laughed at the sight of their countrymen in her phone calls with Mu Ssang, and she talked so badly of her own countrymen that even Mu Ssang, who could be considered rough, looked like a better person. Darling, this f*cking country is hilarious. Its people are ashamed of those who dont speak English, a foreign language, despite its own long history and tradition of immigration, a country where white people are unconditionally and preferentially treated while people of color are disregarded, a country where a coup detat occurred twice, a country that mobilizes troops to kill its people, a country that runs terror politics with the main culprit of so many deaths as its president, a country that can bribe an official with a few dollars to put a decent student in jail under false rape accusations. Thats what this country is like. Its funny that its been those non-confident, non-nationalistic people who have defended and lifted this country. Do you get what I mean? But Im not a Great Man theorist. Im just saying there has been no elite leader. The stronger politicians are supported by foreign powers It was something he heard often from Hae Young. Now that he thought about it, he had no business laughing at Chad. It would be like a dog covered in its own feces laughing at another dog covered in mud. Of course, Korea was much more stable than Chad, and that country could not compare to Korea in terms of the quality and amount of education. But at the same time, it was hard to argue that Korea had a better society than Chad. Black Mamba shook his head. He had tried to forget everything when he left Korea. It seemed that his roots were impossible to avoid. For now, the first thing to do was to understand Chads current situations. He searched the main archive at headquarters for information on Chad. He had given it some effort, but the result was disappointing. Only a few cases could be found in the volumes on Cameroon. He became frustrated with the lack of information and went looking for Chartres. Chartres, whats Chads national identity? Black Mamba, all you need to do is listen to the commanders orders and shoot. You dont need to figure out the enemys cultural or national identity. Gosh, thats not something the best intelligence officer of the Deuxieme Rep should say. Hehe, Im joking. But what I just said is the mindset of most of the soldiers in the military. Chartres laughed as he handed over a few pages of paper. This is the information I organized for you, friend. I know you well. Youre a soldier who thinks. You may be the strongest soldier but not the best researcher. But, youre Black Mamba, and its good to see that youre acclimatizing so quickly. Thanks. Fortunately, Chartres had organized the information in English. It was an astounding amount spanning ten pages, back-to-back. Black Mamba flipped through the pages quickly and concentrated on the parts that detailed the conflicts. He should at least know the reasons behind his deployment after all! At the beginning of the 17th century, the Bargimi, Kanemboru, and Wadai kingdoms came into existence in Chad. The three kingdoms were conquered by Sudans Lavil Al-Jubail in the late 19th century. In 1891, the French explored the Lavil territory then ousted Lavil in 1900. In 1910, Chad became a part of the French Equatorial African Federation, and in 1946, it became classified as a foreign territory of France. In 1958, it was declared as an autonomous republic within the French community and became independent in 1960. Chad became independent from France in 1960, then a new conflict began between southern Christians and northern and eastern Islamic powers. In 1960, the first president, Fran?ois Tombalbaye, formed a defense alliance with France and turned his focus on domestic integration and unification. In 1963, the northern Islamic forces opposed the southern Christian government, and, in 1966, the FROLINAT was established. Full-scale civil war broke out as FROLINAT launched an armed struggle with the southern government. In August of 1968, France sent troops to crush the civil war. Since then, the conflict became a stand-off between the north and south forces. The conflict expanded with Libya supporting the northern government with Arab guerrillas and France collaborating with the Southern Christian government. In April 1975, Tombalbaye was assassinated by the northern coup detat, and General Flix Malloum became the head of state. In August 1978, Malloum disbanded the Supreme Military Council and took office as president. He founded his cabinet and named Hissne Habr, one of the FROLINAT leaders, as the prime minister. Habr was from the northern Faya region. President Flix Malloum was exiled to Nigeria, in March 1979, after confronting the same northern factions FROLINAT leader, Goukouni Oueddei. Goukouni, who had expelled Malloum, became chairman of the Peoples National Council and took power in April of that year, but the country was still unstable. In August 1979, the Northern FROLINAT and the Confederates voted Goukouni as president and the southern representative Kamougu as vice president. Civil war broke out again because some of the FROLINAT leaders were dissatisfied. An agreement was signed in Lagos, Nigeria, arbitrated by Algeria and Libya, as well as its neighboring countries. In November of that year, Goukouni led and founded The Transitional Government of National Unity (GUNT) with both a Christian southern faction and the northern Islamic faction. In March of 1980, FROLINAT divided within GUNT. A fierce battle broke out between the Goukouni factions, the Peoples Armed Forces (FAP, a military force made of people from Goukounis faction who were mostly the Islamic FROLINATs), and the Forces Armes du Nord (FAN) of Defence Minister Habr. Even vice president Kamougus faction joined the conflict. Blood flowed in the capital city, NDjamena, as it turned into a battlefield between them. The civil war expanded further into international conflicts, with Libya supporting Goukouni and Sudan supporting Habr. The civil war thus evolved into a conflict between the northern Muslims and southern Sudanese clans, overlapping the conflict between the northern factions. An absurd situation took place in January of 1981. President Goukouni declared an integration of Chad with Libyan leadership. He faced criticism in his country and abroad, and the Libyan army withdrew because of heavy criticism from the international public. The withdrawal of the Libyan forces led to the defeat of the Peoples Armed Forces (FAP). Eventually, in June 1982, Habrs FAN, backed by Egypt and Sudan, won. Habr took power. After winning the civil war, FAN overthrew The Transitional Government of the National Unity (GUNT) and launched a National Committee with Habr as president. However, with most of the factions that make up GUNT owning their own troops, the power of the government was limited. In August of 1982, Goukouni was exiled to Algeria and, with the aid of Libya, set up a national rescue government and launched a counterattack. The case turned What a mess! Black Mamba concluded. It should be. There are over ten Chad warlords with their own armies. I suppose this would be comparable to China before communist Mao Ze Dong came into power? Its a scattered country. Sigh, I wonder what state the country is in. How hard it is for the people living in that situation? Whats the point of saying that? Warlords raid villages, kidnap boys and raise them as soldiers. Apparently, the girls are used as sex slaves. Its no different than any other government army or a rebellion force. Warlords are not interested in strengthening the country or public welfare. Theyre just crazy for power. In short, the situation is no different from the mafias fighting over territories. I can see why France is slowing down its dispatch of combat troops. They dont have information thats strong enough for them to deploy troops since friend and foe are unclear. A power-hungry dictator is always a problem anywhere. Chartres slapped his knee. Smart Black Mamba, he had understood the heart of the matter in an instant. If we think were on the right side of helping the government troops, wed be the head of an amoeba. Wait, an amoeba has no head. Anyways, here or there, theyre all the same. France joined the conflict because it doesnt want to lose its influence in West Africa. Mitterrand has basically been pushed to this decision by the military. Wheres justice in war? I have been paid a salary, so I have to work for it. Damn it, I was prepared, but this is a really dirty battlefield Im walking into. Black Mamba replaced his annoyance with a sigh. Around that time, the situation in Chad changed rapidly, once more. Goukouni and Habib had received Gaddafis help and conquered Paya, the main city of the northern regions, and were coming down south with their FAP. The central and northern regions had fallen under FROLINATs influence. The Soviet Union similarly supported the FAP. France supported Habres FAN (the northern army) and the United States supported France. Chad had nothing and was weak. The situation had boiled to a point where it was now a replication of the Cold war. The Soviet Union and Libya were on one side with France and the United States on the other. Black Mamba didnt understand the situation completely even after reading through Chartres documents once more. The current warlord in power, Habre, was also from the FROLINAT. From his weak political knowledge, he couldnt tell who was his friend or foe. Chads reality did not stem from the problems of political ideology. Its civil war had begun because of the greed of the warlords and the religious grudges between Islam and Christianity. This also meant that it was hard to discern between good and evil. France couldnt sit by and watch Libyas power grow with the Soviet Union as its backer. Now that Goukouni was moving forward, they had no choice but to side with Habres government. They couldnt hand Chad over to the crazed Goukouni. Chad was one of the poorest countries in the world. With a 95 percent illiteracy rate, its population was mostly uneducated. It was a traditional, agricultural-based country with over 900,000 people involved in that sector. Over 85 percent of the citizens worked as farmers but to fend for themselves. Underground resources were also rare compared to the rest of the African continent. Minerals were lacking, and no oil was produced. Black Mamba didnt know why France was sending their battle forces to Chads civil war. Chad had once been under their flag, but it had long declared its independence. French politicians often said that the words, for peace and righteousness were lies. In fact, the Cold War ideology established international relations while national selfishness prevailed. There was no reason for France, who was busy fending for itself, to stabilize Chad. Even Black Mamba, who didnt have any interest in politics, could see that. He threw away the papers and picked up the Le Monde newspaper. He had invested his tears in studying French and reached the level where he could understand the basic gist of newspapers. He had spent a lot of time studying, but it was worth it. In the corner of Le Monde, an article mentioned the violent battle in the northern Kanem and that the oil development that had been going on since 1977 had stopped. Aha, its the oil! Black Mamba then understood. Of course, of course. Damn the protection, its because of the oil. Thats why theyre saying that Goukouni and Habib are problems. I would have cleaned up if there had been a billion-dollar bet. Black Mambas information was too limited to help him understand exactly how Chads civil war intertwined with the international powers. On the map, Chad bordered Libya above, Sudan to the right, Nigeria to the left, and the Central African Republic below. Libya and Sudan had been regarded as gangsters by the international community since the 1970s. Chad was a poor, ignorant, powerless country with two gangsters next door. Chad was called the dead heart of Africa. It was because it was located in the heart of the African continent, but they had nothing and didnt show any signs of improvement. It didnt have any suitable resources to bring forth: no oil fields like Libya had and no gold or diamond mines like the Central African Republic had. Only a few iron mines had been developed. There were no tourist attractions and no natural parks like Nairobi in Nigeria, Kruger in South Africa, Masai Mara in Kenya, and Serengeti in Tanzania. There were no ancient ruins like in Egypt. But when they dug up the ground, they discovered bones from hundreds and thousands of years ago. However, the primitive bones didnt have much value. Nor did Chad have a big forest that would arouse curiosity, like in the Congo. At best, the main product was cotton from the southern Chari and Logone River basins. Chad was a country with nothing to eat. In the beginning of the 20th Century, an English diplomat said: Africa is the lamb shank (a traditional English dish made with the hind legs of a lamb braised in orange sauce) that has arrived on my table. Chad is the leftover bones from that dish. It was a caustic statement. From the standpoint of the Western powers, Chad was a land without a single thing to offer. Chad was a wasteland that burned under the hot sun. It was a dark, uneducated country with the worst economy in the world. The people were divided into 200 races: in the north were the Arab Muslims, and in the south were the indigenous people and Christians. Chad was a place where people divided into factions and fought endlessly in the dust and heat. The British laughed when France occupied Chad. They ridiculed the French for wanting to gain that little bit of cotton. That was how little Chad had to give. Chad could clearly distinguish its northern, central, and southern regions by climate and topography. The northern regions were filled with the Tibesti mountains and Ennedi Plateau, which occupied one-third of the country. This area was part of the Sahara Desert. The Tibesti region is a desolate plateau of volcanic alpine mountains, such as Mount Pictusid (3315 meters) and Mount Emi Koussi (3415 meters). The Ennedi Plateau was also a wasteland of desert and rock. The central region was in the Sahel belt, the dry boundaries of the Sahara desert reaching tropical Africa. The only vegetation was the steppe or savanna. Most of the year was the dry season, and in the short rainy season from June to August, around 200 millimeters of rain fell. The region was roughly in the 15 to 20 degrees latitude from Mauritania to the central regions south of Chad, which spanned from west to east in about 6400 kilometers. The rainfall was about 200 millimeters per year, so some areas could be farmed. The Sahel Belt had a tropical climate with a dry steppe. The drought had continued since 1970, and desertification was underway. The population was rapidly decreasing as indigenous people who had not dealt with such environmental changes were leaving. Farmers, as well as nomads, escaped the region to live elsewhere. The southern region had a tropical monsoon climate around the capital city, Enzame, near Lake Chad. Agriculture and animal farming developed around the Chari and Logone rivers, which did not dry out throughout the year. The annual rainfall was also around 800 millimeters, and therefore sufficient. Southern Chad was a bit more developed and densely populated than the central and northern regions. With a line from Lake Chad to the eastern border, it was obvious that the south had more black people based in the Sara tribe and that the north had Arabians and Ham tribes. Arab Islam in the north had long enslaved the southern Christian blacks. People had not forgotten their hatred of Arab superiority and of South Africans, and it became the starting point of civil war. In Africa, Chad had the most races, in a continent known for its many ethnic groups. These tribes directed their loyalties toward local communities rather than the national consciousness. Conflict persisted because they were a collection of tribes not citizens of a united country. As such, Chad was a large piece of land that mostly consisted of deserts, mountains, plateaus, wetlands, and wilderness. Arable land was concentrated in the south and made up only two percent of the land area. Black Mamba also did not understand Frances involvement in its civil conflict until he saw the oil development project in Canem. There were no sights, no resources, and it had bad access. Black Mamba understood why it was so difficult to get an accurate map. It was hard to even find a traveler or explorer in that region. All that he managed to learn was that it was the darkest country within the African continent. Year 1982, October 13th. The boat Clemanso left the port of Calvi and headed for Africa. It carried two cascade-class, 4000-ton escort destroyers, three frigates, and a heavy-duty 10,000-ton heavy transport carrier with heavy weapons, armor, and supporting materials. Of the 1250 people in the Deuxieme Rep regiment, 1160 were on board, including all combatants. All of the Deuxieme Rep had been dispatched to Chad. The fleet came out of the Mediterranean Sea and made its way through the crashing waves of the Atlantic then headed straight towards Cameroons port city Malabo. There, four C-130 Hercules aircraft were waiting to transport the vanguards. Armored artillery and machinery, as well as heavy weapons, were scheduled for land transportation via Cameroon. The C-130 Hercules was a heavy transporter developed in the early 1950s. Lockheed Martin used the B29 bomber as the base for this aircraft that transported large numbers of troops and materials. Even 30 years after its development, it was still played a delivery role. France revamped some of its C-130s to respond quickly to the frequent civil wars occurring in the former French colonies. Instead of reducing their cargo, they increased the planes capacity for transporting 65-80 fully armed airborne personnel. Chapter 15 A cold war was occurring in Clemenceaus Information Center (CIC). Why are you saying that we cant? The flight deck is 265 meters. The deck and catapult are capable of supporting a C-130. A vein bulged in the neck of Air Force Supreme Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Rubril. I said, no. Clemenceaus full weight displacement is only 33,000 tons. It is not at a level of the Nimitz. Theres no precedent of a C-130 landed on Clemenceau. Even if the catapult and deck haul *ss, something so fat wont be able to get enough speed for take-off. Look, Lieutenant, even the Yankees were capable of doing it. Dont you think we French would be capable of doing what the Yankees did? Get the deck ready, now. The deck officer didnt move an inch. First Lieutenant Petain wanted to kick Lieutenant Colonel Rubril to the floor for arguing about something of which he knew nothing. Rubril was mad. That chicken head was him. He wanted to smash Rubril into the floor because he was arguing without thinking first. He expanded his patience as much as he could to maintain his composure as a lieutenant colonel. Look, Im not asking you to contain the C-130 with a lift. I know the lift is too weak. Im only asking you to do the take-off and landing. No. If you must insist on using the Hercules, fire me before you do. First Lieutenant Petain grabbed the back of his neck to try to calm down about Rubrils insisting on this plan without knowing the details of the takeoff and landing system. Their quarrel did not end easily. Lieutenant Colonel Rubril was in a hurry. Moving troops overland complicated matters. He was going to land in military court if he didnt move the soldiers as ordered. The C-130 has a range of over 6,000 kilometers. Landing near Cameroon by ship made it possible to go round trip to NDjamena or its base without refueling. He was simply thinking about Hercules range, not its weight, in his calculation. That was his mistake. He started to appease the deck officer. This was how the Deuxieme Rep began to break apart from the very beginning of its deployment In the meeting room connected to the CIC battle intelligence room, regiment commander Colonel Philip of the Deuxieme Rep, Chief of Operations Lieutenant Colonel Louis, Lieutenant Commander Pieff Commander of the fourth regiment, Lieutenant Pedan of Operations and First Lieutenant Regiment Commander Armang were assembled. It seems like I cant cheat out my age anymore. Colonel Philip grunted as he looked at Colonel Louis. The Operations Chief just smiled. The regiment commander was on his third complaint. Colonel Philip, in his mid-50s, tugged on his face, stiff from fatigue and stress, with both hands. He was fed up dealing with reports of operational meetings, briefings, tactical simulations, and mountains of documents for nearly a month. He felt as if he had aged ten years. Armang, how much longer? Theres two hours before we reach the 10-kilometer point on the shores of Malabo. Then lets hurry up and finish this in time for lunch. Even the staff sitting around the table looked tired. Colonel Philip wanted to kick the damned conference table. He missed the kind of battle like the one in Algeria, 30 years ago, when he ran forward on the front lines with his LeeCEnfield, an English repeating rifle used during WWII, a favorite weapon among mercenaries. This Chad operation was a scam. They werent asked to fight against the enemy or return with their surrendering flag. Their task was to relocate their regiment to the NDjamena base and procure public peace. A passing dog would have laughed at seeing the Deuxieme Rep act as public security officers. The problem was the order for the secret operation. Return to NDjamena after saving the 11th member of the council of FROLINAT, council member Makumbo. This was the absurd order he received from the Air Brigade. Philip was irritated. Did they move the navy, too, just to save some fat old man? Makumbos nickname was mass slayer. The regions Makumbo managed to get his hands on were left barren. He was no different from that bastard, Habib, who was called a slaughterer. He was put off thinking about having to protect someone who robbed, kidnapped, and killed citizens! The order also said to enter enemy grounds deep where that bastard was and escort him back safely. It was from that moment that Colonel Philip started to express his displeasure. FROLINAT was a warlord coalition with a focus on FAP. At present, FROLINAT was stronger than the Chad government. Makumbo was the sixth-ranked member in power of the 11-member committee that moved FROLINAT. While Philip continued his grumbling, a piece of emergency intelligence from DGSE Overseas Operations came in. It was information that said that Makumbo was leading his subordinates down south and that the FAP was on his tail. The meeting sped up. Lieutenant Officer Pedan spread out the large map used for briefing. Todays meeting has two purposes. The first is to confirm the intelligence that Makumbo betrayed FROLINAT, and the second is to avoid being seen by FROLINAT, which is blocking the Sahel belt north of Chad. Tibestik, in the North, has become the living room of FROLINAT, and the northern part of the province Kanem has also fallen under their influence. Pedan, who does the group thats tracking Makumbo belong to? Its that slaughterer Habibs forces. Philips face crumpled. Even within FROLINAT, Habib was known to be the cruelest person by far. Even his subordinates took after their master and acted similar to hyenas, shedding no blood or tears. Its the main force of the FROLINAT. How annoying. Whats the source of the information that DGSE sent? It is information that was given by a black skipper stationed deep inside the Northern Oasis city, Paya Largo. DGSE rates the credibility of the information at 80 percent. The Legion Etranger has its own line of information, but once it entered the operation, it moved based on the information given by the DGSE. Theyre not trying to fool us, are they? Like double-crossing us, or something. According to the skipper on our side, there was an intense internal conflict between the Makumbo army and the Habib army. It does not appear to be fake information. Philip organized his thoughts. Currently, there were 11 FROLINAT warlords. Each member had his own army. DGSE estimated the total number of troops to be around 15,000. Colonel Philip was skeptical of the plans made by the DGSE and the Brigade Operations Staff. The goal was to deploy as many platoon unit commandos as possible to disrupt the rebels main camp so that another team could extract Makumbo during that distraction. The cities of central-northern Chad, Kanem, and Borkou had fallen under the influence of FROLINAT. It was too great a risk for a minority commando to go deep into the rebel forces main camp. Even if the Deuxieme Rep was an elite airborne force, this plan was far from reality. The possibility was too great of the elite force being defeated in the large empty northern lands, even with four squads with 30 members each. The problem wasnt the enemy but the inadequate environment of the northern African lands. The heat, cold, and disease were feared more than guerrillas. Why doesnt the regiment push north with armored warfare at the front? At Philips bold statement, Pedan freaked out. Colonel, just the FAP alone, at Kanem in the northern Sahel, has 5000. On top of that, the Libyan airborne forces are guarding the entirety of northern Kanem and Borkou. If you give Libya a reason to interfere, both you and I, Commander, can forget about receiving our salaries. Why are you so gullible? I was joking out of frustration. Philip smirked. Lieutenant Pedan wanted to smack the back of the Colonels head with the butt of his gun. If we cant move a large military operation, then we should move a small group of elite snipers. Colonel Philip shook his head at this suggestion from the sniper companys Lieutenant Commander Pief. You watched too many Hollywood movies. Deuxieme Rep might be strong, but this isnt a Rambo movie. Whether its a small unit or a large unit, theyre going to meet in the Sahel. But we cant have you push through with tanks and aircraft, can we? That will be giving them a reason to go to war immediately. The entirety of Kanem, Borukou, and Tibesti is larger than France. Their current net is terrible and has holes everywhere. Squeezing through that gap and deploying some snipers would be possible. Pief did not back down. There was no Rambo, but there was something stronger called Black Mamba; the one who could get him promoted to major. Pief heated up the room, but Colonel Philip didnt react. Pief was someone who would chew up his own finger to get a promotion. Theres intelligence about that damn Gaddafi supporting them with 2000 desert bikes. Those moles are mobile. Saharas lizard has become an ostrich. If anyone gets surrounded by them without cover, even our most elite members, wont be able to escape. And they are not stupid. Most of the troops will be stationed on the border between Kanem and Borukou. Louis, what do you think their plan of action will be? The commander looked at Lieutenant Colonel Louis, Chief of Operations. They will scout in squadrons or regiments to cover the wide Sahel belt. Theyll do that while maintaining a reachable distance between each other. If we hide our bikes in our bases and use them as a group, were more likely to lose by their hit-and-run strategy. Philips expression crumpled. There was no good solution or some sharp method. Hm. Youre saying that if we move on a larger scale, Gaddafi or that northern bear would immediately start their intervention. It becomes troublesome if Gaddafi starts all-out warfare. This is driving me crazy. Wheres Makumbo right now? According to the information given by DGSE, he is currently hiding somewhere in Baudelaire. He lost most of his guards and, in fear of getting caught by the FAP, is hiding his neck like a turtle. Louis answered. Good, Makumbos betrayal looks certain. Seems like we dont have to worry about getting double-crossed. His forces? The two-platoon escorts are said to have been killed by the Habib army. The main body of the force moved separately and are numbering 670. They are currently moving down southwest of Lake Chad. We have now reached 200 kilometers north of Mao. Has the AFP noticed yet? There is no conflict yet, but Makumbo is isolated. So they noticed. What is the status of the armed forces of Habib? First Lieutenant Commander Armang confirmed the files on the table. They dont seem to have any armored warfare, but they do have a dozen BTR152s. Theyre armed with several Soviet heavy weapons, including antitank rockets. The BTR152 was an armored vehicle made by the Soviet Union in the 1950s. It was made without any know-how, according to the Soviet spirit of Shut up and put on your gloves. It could be called a poorly made armored vehicle. The BTR152 can carry 15 armed infantry and run 60 kilometers in the desert. It had a maneuverability and troop transportability that could not be ignored in a desert battle. It had 13 millimeters of front armor and 8 millimeters of side gloves. The 7.62-millimeter heavy machine gun mounted on top was a nightmare for infantry in the desert terrain that lacked sufficient cover. In short, it was a can that was equipped only with heavy machine guns, but it was a vehicle that couldnt be ignored in the desert. This Soviet can was used by Chad and many other poor Africans because the Soviet Union supplied them for free. BTR! Then we would need an RPG. You dont even need an RPG. Black Mamba has been given a depleted uranium bullet. Since the vehicle is weak defensively, it could probably be taken down with Black Mambas sniping skills. They are struggling to trample villages and replenish troops with the BTR. Its the same with Makumbo. His troops are also raiding the villages to the south. At Louis report, Philip took off his hat and slammed the table. Colonel Philip was a self-proclaimed gentleman. He hated African leaders more than camel poop. I have to bury my soldiers in the sand to save and escort a dirty bastard. Must I save him? Colonel Louis shrugged at the commanders violent reaction. An agent from DGSE was sitting at the end of the table listening; he raised his hand. Captain, Makumbo is the key to Chads stability. We can no longer delay operations. Miguel, shut up. Its we who have to use our hands and feet, and we who have to bleed. Why dont you guys go in then if you think youre better? I hate the DGSE that is asking us to save such a bastard as much as I hate that bastard. Colonel Philip screamed. He was a gentleman who had an allergic reaction to the DGSE. Philip was sorry for the ignorance and cruelty of African leaders and the hard life it made for its people. But the suffering of Chad and other African nations emerging in the 20th century was entirely the responsibility of the Western powers. In the 18th and 19th centuries, European empires, including Britain and France, plundered Africa. They used Africa as feedstock. The colonies well-being was not taken into account. The colonies were both a source of materials and a consumer of finished products. In short, they were exploited. The European powers made arbitrary borders on their lands. The existing tribes, land features, races, and religions were not considered at all. The borders were drawn to help the European businesses rule the locals. After World War II, the emerging African independent nations from which the European powers departed became a mess of religious, ethnic, and national conflict. The nations caught up in civil wars of hate and bloodshed for religious and ethnic reasons were crushed. But neither Philip nor anyone in Europe recognized the suffering of Africa because of their invasion and exploitation. In their predecessors eyes, Africa was just a black continent inhabited by inferior souls. Chapter 16 That fu**! The DGSE member who was obviously using the fake name, Miguel, shook his head. This was why he hated those muscle-brained military soldiers. Most of the commanders within the Legion Etranger were from the main French army. French commanders acted like gentlemen and had a vast pool of knowledge. When such people entered the Legion Etranger, they changed in nature. In simpler terms, they became idiots who couldnt think straight. Strangely, even the most educated and famous commanders became stupid when they entered the Legion Etranger. Commander Philip was considered slightly better than the others. Although, nothing could be done if even he started to act strangely. The plan to rescue Makumbo had been approved by Mitterrand. The Department of National Defense had also approved a plan to deploy a small unit of the special forces. The Deuxieme Rep and the Airborne Regiment Staff members had to decide the method of fulfilling the order. This order required the sacrifice of the Deuxieme Rep. It wasnt that he couldnt understand Commander Philips frustration that was akin to an alligator with eggs. The problem was Commander Philips violent prejudice and bias. He was a commander who strongly believed that the DGSE only stirred up trouble. This was a strategy that battled against time. The prejudiced Commander Philip did not help the situation. Miguel was also annoyed. Of course, DGSE did a lot of dirty work behind the scenes. The entirety of DGSE was made in resistance to Charles de Gaulles SDECE (a national intelligence department). The SDECE was created to find the communists within the resistance. At that time, the Vichy government infiltrated the masses of communists. SDECE hunted them out by creating traps using mainly family and friends. The DGSE was an intelligence agency that was basically created to betray the SDECE. In 1981, Mitterrand reorganized DGSE, but it was highly criticized because of its exceptionally radical back-door work and rough information activities. Behind-the-scenes dirty work was inevitable because of the nature of intelligence agencies. Such a gentlemen-like intelligence organization would not be able to exist in the world. It was similar to asking a cobra to pour out potions instead of poisons. Colonel Philip was a gentleman. The problem was that a gentlemanly tendency of his was to delay the operation. Colonel Philip hated and did not believe that Makumbo joined hands with the Habre government. But an operation was an operation. Miguel was about to erupt out of frustration. What was Legion Etranger? It was a group of elite soldiers who went into battle. The reason for growing a pig was to eat it during a feast. It was normal for mercenaries to be sacrificed. But he couldnt say his thoughts out loud, which made him angrier. Commander, if we manage to procure Makumbo, we will be able to sway the other leaders of the FAP. For Frances well-being, we must confirm his safety as fast as possible. Miguel attempted to convince him while swallowing his anger. Yes, we must save him with my subordinates blood, this man who commits the holocaust as if its his daily meal. Of course, we must save the man who kills women and children in a pub while drinking a beer while handing over some power for him to grasp. Colonel Philip commented sarcastically. Makumbo had offered a deal to the DGSE. I will abandon all vested interests for the people and join hands with Habres FAN. I will resolve the opposition and jealousy of religious sects and various races on a grand scale. It was a request for the French government to be his political backer and push him into the prime ministers position. DGSE immediately accepted Makumbos proposal. Philip dismissed Makumbos suggestion as a hoax. According to DGSEs internal documents, Makumbo was one of the most guilty amongst the FAPs warlords. A slayer suddenly standing up for justice and laying down all vested interests for the people? It was something a hyena would laugh about. He was just a raccoon who read the flow of the battle and decided to change sides. Colonel, Makumbo is necessary for France. Look, Miguel, here are the documents that came from your company. Within the last year, Makumbo burned down 10 villages within the Sahel belt and Kanem region and conscripted over 300 young boys for his army. He killed over 1000 natives. Makumbos group that was headed down south attacked a northern Laka village near Lake Chad. There were over 40 villagers killed. It seems like he used an ax to save his bullets. On top of that, he kidnapped another 20 teenage boys. Philip drank some water before raising his voice. Miguel, you know why they kidnap the boys, dont you? Philip banged the table with the information file. Ugh, that idiot! Miguel wrapped his hands around his head. Colonel Philip had completely lost the main point. The conversation was flowing in the wrong direction. Of course, he knew better than anyone else what the Chad militia had done. The rebelling guerrillas had burned down the village and kidnapped teenage boys. The teenage boys were raised to be sacrificed to the oncoming bullets. The most disgusting thing happened in the rebelling guerrillas conscription after the massacre. They made the young boys kill their own families. The ten years old boys, after watching their village burn and killing their parents with their own hands, became mentally impaired. The young soldiers didnt fear anything. They ran forward when the command came. They harbored an absolute fear of the person delivering oppressive violence and submitted wholly to the leaders. Their decision-making skills had been impaired even before they could grow. Whether it was the FAP or FAN, warlord or politician, they were nothing but bloodthirsty mass murderers. The DGSE saw Makumbos movements as a diversion strategy. Makumbo was planning to move his main forces south to garner the attention of the FAP so that he could slip out with his bodyguards. Why did Makumbo ask the French government for a joint escape plan? The DGSE saw it as insurance. He had prepared for the off-chance that the FAP would notice his diversion. The DGSE decided that Makumbos intentions were real by looking at his diversion strategy. The problem was that Makumbo was caught on FAPs radar. The Habib army abandoned their forces and surrounded Makumbo, isolating him. What was the cause of such a situation? Either the black slipper had turned into a triple agent and handed over information about Makumbo to the FROLINAT, or this was something Makumbo and FROLINAT had planned. The DGSE was in a state of panic trying to procure Makumbo before an unexpected situation occurred. Even Commander Philip trusted the DGSEs decision and analysis. But he was still resisting, which made him angrier. Commander! The conversation kept falling to the wayside, causing Miguel to shout. I know, I know. We do need to extract that murderer for my paycheck. Philip waved his hands to stop Miguel from talking. As long as he was a soldier, he was unable to defy orders. He had simply thrown a tantrum out of frustration. As a high-ranking officer, he knew what was happening. When Makumbo joined the government and the military, there were going to be tremendous benefits. The pro-French government of Habre could gain political legitimacy and military advantage. France would also gain legitimacy as well as political justification for Chads civil war. As an added bonus, the internal division of the FROLINAT could be expected. Five of the eleven FROLINAT leaders were members of the FAP faction. Goukouni, Tombalbaye, Habib, Makumbo, and Lomu. When fourth-ranked Makumbo changed sides, fence-sitters Tombalbaye and Lomu could be swayed. DGSEs focus on Makumbo was to destroy the FAP internally. Nevertheless, Philips mischief was due to the pity his men felt murdering that trash in cold blood. Had it been a command to rescue French people, he would have complied excitedly. Philip drank the new cup of coffee that his lieutenant brought as if he was drinking water. The lieutenant had brewed the coffee too thick. It seemed to be scraping down his dry esophagus. Miguel, is fruit-selling management a problem? You dont have to worry. It is a reliable local source and is currently being double monitored. The black slipper linking Makumbo with the DGSE was an illegal fruit seller at Paya Market. As the situation progressed, DGSE was taking over management. The problem was Makumbos rescue. There was no way to avoid the FROLINATs ferocious dogs. Large troops couldnt be deployed, and small commandos were likely to be defeated. Miguel was also worried. DGSE, too, had not been confident in uprooting the FROLINATs elite forces and had pushed the matter into Legion Etrangers hands. It was an adventure that required them to extract the lion cub from the lions den. Of course, they did not anticipate a high rate of success. Even if it was the Deuxieme Rep, they were no specialists in extraction missions. The DGSE planned to sell the operation to Legion Etranger and, as always, insert a wild card. Miguel never uttered a word about it. If Colonel Philip found out about it, he wouldnt be able to say a single word to defend himself, even if he was pummelled to death. Captain, please leave it to me. I will put my hat on the line and get the raccoon out of there. Pief shouted with determination. Putting ones hat on the line within Legion Etranger was synonymous with risking ones life. The hat was a symbol of pride. Pief was a senior commander, and he was driven by greed to pull off this operation and receive a promotion. Pief was well aware that the operation was based on a small number of snipers and required the sacrifice of his men. There was a great risk of total annihilation. But as long as he was within the Deuxieme Rep, he couldnt stay where he was if he was afraid of blood. As long as he wore a military uniform, he was bound to put forth the amount of blood he received as payment. A soldier earned his promotion through the blood of his subordinates. This was no different within Legion Etranger. Pief, have you been listening to the meeting with your behind? The group of hyenas forming the net in northern Kanem and southern Boruku rivals the size of a brigade. They are ferocious guys with mobility, wandering like crazy dogs. This operation will require breaking through their nets and moving 600 miles in a straight line with a bulging middle-aged man on your back. Do you think youre Lawrence of Arabia? No, actually, not even he would be able to pull this off. Even with the dressing down of his regiment commander, Pief did not yield; he knew Black Mambas skills and was confident. The chances of success were good if the special forces had Black Mamba and a special subject to assist him. The haphazard rebels with their faulty equipment were mere numbers in the end. Captain, there is no Lawrence of Arabia, but you do have a Black Mamba who would beat Rambo hands down. Hm, Black Mamba? Commander Philip suddenly altered his posture. God sniper Black Mamba was the pride of the Deuxieme Rep and the secret weapon within Legion Etranger. The moment Pief mentioned Black Mamba, he garnered attention. Philip glared at Pief. It was troublesome to ignore his subordinate when he was stepping forward with his life on the line. And with Black Mamba; the possibility of success turned from 10 to 50 percent. He had already acknowledged the fact that they were only able to deploy a small unit. If he deployed the main force, there was no way out of a war. Right, he is a monster. But hes a newbie who hasnt even been a soldier for a single year, isnt he? He has no real experience. Hes not a newbie; hes Black Mamba. Commander, you should know! Hes a one-man unit. He has no experience, but no one can beat him in close combat and concealment escapes. I also lost my consciousness at a single blow. His lack of experience can be covered by the veterans. Philips eyes grew wide. This was the first time he heard about Black Mamba being an elite, close-ranged fighter. For a sniper who was also proficient with a knife, he was the perfect man for this job. Whoa, for a Capoeira master like you to be defeated by a blow! Its a shame I didnt get to see it happen. Piefs expression crumpled when Philip laughed. He didnt even know how he was defeated in the regiments combat competition and had fainted after a single blow. It was a memory he didnt wish to recall. Philip contemplated this idea with his arms crossed. He had been suspicious the entire time about why the DGSE had handed the rescue of Makumbo to him. So far, he had been trying to figure out the rest of the details through Miguel during his tantrum. Not just anyone became the regiment commander of the Deuxieme Rep. He had tried his best, but Miguel had been slippery. Philip stared at Miguel. Miguel, are there any underscores in this operation? Youre not using my babies as bait are you? That is a question that exceeds my security level. It was a natural answer for Miguel. He could neither deny nor agree with sensitive questions. Sh*t! There wont be any interference in this operation, will there? Yes. Everything, including the start and end of the operation, is with the Chief of Operations and you, Commander. Do you have any other information for me to consider in this operation? Miguels stomach turned. He wanted to crush the nose of Chief Aprica who had stuffed him in this meeting and ran away. They had received information that STRESLA 2 was in the hands of the rebels. STRELA 2 was a Soviet portable surface-to-air missile known as SAM-7. It was clear that Commander Philip would cause a scene if he told the truth. This was because helicopters were going to be used to transport the elite unit. Helicopters with low altitude and low speed were also targets for portable missiles. But if he hid the information, he could be called to military court for concealing information. There is information that the FROLINATs got the SAM-7. What? Damn it! Why are you mentioning that now? This is why bastards are impossible to work with. Your cheap words are going to turn my babies into drowned ducks! As expected, Philip flared out in anger. Chapter 17 Damn it! Why are you f*cking mad at me? Go scream at Gaddafi! Miguel grumbled inwardly. The SAM-7 was a solid surface-to-air missile employing an infrared guidance system. It wasnt a very good missile, but it was deadly to low-flying aircraft. Helicopters hopelessly crashed when they were hit by a single 1.15-kilogram warhead. Gaddafi purchased 1500 aircraft from the Soviet Union. It is estimated that 10 percent of that went to FROLINAT. What! That means they have over a hundred shots. F*cking hell. If that was the truth, then their air operations north of Lake Chad, in an unsecured air defense region, were going to be a major threat. Philip held his head, realizing that their movements had been further restricted. The operation was being dragged into the swamp by a water ghost. Restrictions on the use of helicopters would inevitably make the elite team operation even more dangerous. On top of that, their mobility would be severely restricted. Okay, this operation, Racoon Hunting, will prepare four squad units. The main sniper commando will create the best formation to assist Black Mamba. Take personnel from any regiment. Pief, you should consult with the operations officer. Three snipers will be selected from each company. Sh*t, everyone has been watching too many movies. The long meeting was over. They concluded that the sniper unit would be formed with Black Mamba at its center. The three airborne units were to distract FROLINAT and provide confusion surrounding the operation. It was Captain Philip who nicknamed Makumbo Raccoon because Americans skin raccoons and use their pelts for fur hats and clothing. Philip hated Makumbo and often said that he wanted to skin him. The nickname was also because of Makumbos tendency to stick to the winning side depending on who he wanted to skin along with Phillips hatred of the United States, which, to him, was as disgusting as Makumbo. Philip is also the one who came up with the call name, Black Mamba. Considering that Philip was an old soldier, he had a decent knack for assigning names. The flight control station on the fourth floor of the Clemenceau began to move. The signal officer, dressed in yellow, started to wave the flag vigorously. The people on the flight deck moved about quickly. The heavy C-130 sprung from its catapult and left the deck. As soon as it left, the sluggish tilting quickly settled as it balanced and flew towards Cameroons skies. 138 members of the 4th Squadron, a sniper unit, were aboard this huge aircraft. Legion Etrangers base was on the banks of the Chari River, just outside NDjamena. The base had just been completed by the engineering corps a month prior. NDjamena was a planned city with a radiating city center. It was located at the vertices of the Chari and Logone rivers and had several veins that parted from those two rivers. It was built by the French whose culture lingered around the place. Legion Etranger was located in the Staboru district, on the outskirts of the city. It was a 100 paces from headquarters to the Chari River. The members of the Deuxieme Rep were very pleased with their base along the Chari River. The flowing river and lush forests compensated for Chads barren heat. The Chari Hotel was 3 kilometers from the base. The pride of the hotel was the ebony female legion. The mercenaries were satisfied with their surroundings and became more satisfied with the hotel where the call girls were stationed. The regimental headquarters controlled the soldiers movements outside the base, but Burimer and Black Mamba went to the Chari River whenever they felt like it. Black Mamba thought that he could take outside trips thanks to Burimer, but that wasnt the truth. It was Burimer who had borrowed Black Mambas name to take outside trips since Black Mamba had no restrictions and was allowed to move independently. He still had not realized the power of his call name. The Chari River originated from the highlands of northeastern central Africa and flowed northwest, 1200 kilometers into Lake Chad. Its banks were cool and could be enjoyed when the midday heat could be ignored. The unpolluted river was full of all kinds of fish. The flock of birds flying along the river did not fear humans. The happiest person of the Deuxieme Rep was the 4th Companys Sergeant Burimer. He cheered at the osprey and the spoon-billed stork that traveled along the river. More predators meant more prey. The Chari River did not disappoint. The variety of unknown fish lined up to be caught; they were as dumb as Chads warlords. Burimers excitement increased whenever the yard-level Nile rod was raised. He used every spare moment to pick up a fishing rod and head down to the Chari River. Burimer used Black Mambas training as an excuse every time he went outside. Black Mamba also liked the Chari River. At sunset, without fail, he appeared along the river. The river in the setting sun was peaceful, regardless of the humans struggles. Fish bounced into the air showing off their silver scales, hippos and crocodiles roamed the islands, and riparian marshes formed the heart of the river. The sand on the banks glowed golden in the setting sun, and rodents ran around. On the towering rocks, several storks rested their tired wings. High granite rocks, some four meters high, were located at the rivers core, seven meters from the banks. It was Black Mambas exclusive resting place like the Song Ha Am of his youth. Black Mamba leaped from the bank and climbed a rock. The sound of the water, wind, birds, and swimming fish put Black Mamba quickly at peace in the dreamy scenery. Malice and slaughter were mans work, but nature remained the same. All acts of hate, contention, and fighting were in vain. He sat on the rock until the skies darkened and returned to camp only then. NDjamena had fallen into the hands of the government and the military, but its security was still weak. Libya and FROLINATs spies roamed around, and shootouts took place in daylight. The Deuxieme Rep scouted the city three times a day. Black Mamba, who was out on a Jeep scouting the city, sighed. The place lacked too much to be called the capital city of a country. The city was filthy and dusty. Except for the French-styled buildings, there were no buildings taller than three stories. Many of the residents homes were made of five or six pieces of furniture inside a fence surrounded by reeds. Women wearing dirty clothes lined up in the vacant lot or square with large buckets so that they could get water. Several buildings had been destroyed by the conflict between the governments army and the rebels. The native people disappeared as the day darkened, hiding in their houses. When the day turned dark, no traces of humanity remained. Other inhabitants houses were made of walls created from clay mixed with sand and roofs created with reeds. They were houses that would collapse with a single kick. What cover could some reeds possibly provide? Nevertheless, people saw it as a haven and a refuge. They were pitiful like the priests who shoved just their heads underneath Buddhas alter hoping to remain protected from harm. Will was bound to disappear where strength lacked. The fourth squadron commander of the regimental base and the other commanders gathered at a rectangular table. Commander Pief, Chief of Operations Lieutenant Colonel Louis, Operation Chief Lieutenant Pedang, four platoon leaders, and operational correspondents were knocking their heads together to compromise on which members of the special forces would head into the Bodele region. The three squadrons from the airborne division were easily put forth from each of the commanders. The problem was in constructing a rescue team to assist Black Mamba. The operation was simple. Helicopters could only operate towards Mondo, which was being controlled by Habres Army. The others could drive in from Mondo to search for Makumbo hiding in the Bodele region. It was very simple. But as always, how it would be done caused another debate that revealed a whole string of problems. Lieutenant Pedan, the joint operations chief of staff, summarized the situation. There are three difficulties in the operation. The first is the number of FROLINAT guerrillas in the area. The FAP estimates that there are more than 5000 FROLINAT troops stationed in Kanem and Boruku at the Sahel Belt. The second is a means of transportation. As you may already know, there is no pavement in Chad. There is no railroad. The mid-northern region only has a dirt road that is located inland. Rescue teams have to travel off-road for thousands of kilometers. Third is the geography and climate. The temperature has dropped a bit since its November, but the Sahel belt and desert areas are still over 30 degrees Celsius. Plus, its going to drop below 10 degrees Celsius at night. Longer operations will lead to endemic diseases and medical problems. Pief frowned. Did they find a gold mine in the middle of nowhere? Why are so many rebels there? There is an oil field in Kanem that is worth more than a gold mine. Pief, you cant look down on the FAP. The desert is their home. Looking down on them just because their equipment is weak will bring you down with a single blow. They received a lot of support from Gaddafi this time, from handheld anti-aircraft missiles to the Stellar and bikes. The team that will assist the Black Mamba must be configured with people that have the best desert warfare experience. Captain Pedan was worried about such an unreasonable operation. The Kanem and Borku area where they are currently residing is over half the size of France. The 5000 troops are nothing more than a handful of beans in the yard. We have Black Mamba. As long as they dont engage battalion troops, there wont be a problem. The guerrilla scouts are nothing but a pre-meal exercise. Despite Captain Pedans concern, Pief was confident. Black Mambas stealth and rapid shooting could destroy platoon troops within a minute. That was hard to understand from Pedans average point of view. Black Mamba is great, but he isnt an invincible general. He also doesnt have any practical experience. You can trust Black Mamba. He has no real experience, but he is a complete murder machine. Lack of experience can be made up with a seasoned sergeant by his side. As long as firepower is replenished, the operation will succeed. The 2nd platoon leader, Henry, was confident. No one knew Black Mamba better than the platoon leader himself. Not even the company commander knew the true power of the Black Mamba. How well will Black Mamba respond to the road situation and climate? At Commander Louis question, Pief couldnt say a word. There was no special way to go around an environmental handicap. There was nothing but the ability to endure the environment with ones own body. Honestly, apart from faithfully disseminating the provisions, the soldiers would have to overcome the local environment themselves. A vehicle that has been converted for this operation is already in place. It is durable enough to cross the desert, and weve already reinforced the limited armor. Were not going on a picnic, after all! When Colonel Louis nodded, all the participants in the meeting agreed. They did not bring the aircraft carrier just to have a picnic in Chad. Airborne crews are front-line combatants with the most dangerous missions; they are not administrative officers. The elite units were put into operation because of the extreme circumstances and environments. There was no need for them if the situation was easy. An elite crew member, who had combat experience in Africa, was selected from the Legion Etranger. To strengthen their firepower, they also selected machine gun specialists, bombing specialists, and mortar specialists. We also have to consider the reduced combat power due to climate and disease. Colonel Louis had worked in Algeria and Niger in his past. He was worried about the men who had to jump into this reckless operation. We have no choice but to have the operations team respond to the situation at hand. I will select a doctor and pay special attention to medical supplies. The area of operation was the Sahel and the Sahara Desert. The Sahel belt had an arid desert climate. Even in October, daytime temperatures exceeded 30 degrees Celsius. At night, it fell below 10 degrees Celsius. The difference in temperature between day and night was 25 degrees Celsius. If the operation was prolonged, there were going to be problems with the crews condition. Even the mightiest mercenary could find himself in an un-laughable situation suffering from heatstroke or freezing to death. Also, the regions were undergoing a drought, which was now hitting three years. The grasses had died and shade had become harder to find. Flies, mosquitoes, and insect-borne viruses that had increased because of the drought were going to be a large problem. The biggest problem was the lack of information. DGSE also failed to provide accurate information on Makumbos current location. Pedan was similarly concerned about that. Chad was too large and the social infrastructure was poor. They had to rely on people to relay information. Even DGSE couldnt receive information on time. Pief, has Raccoon still not been located? asked Colonel Louis. Yes, the last piece of information was his movement towards the northeast region of Bodele. DGSE assured me that theyd be able to confirm soon. We would have to first enter the region to check through the satellite. Colonel Louis had been unhappy throughout the entire duration of the meeting. He had fled after fighting Habibs forces. It was hard to believe that the well-known DGSE had tracked down Makumbo. He was also suspicious of Piefs confidence. He had heard about the legendary battle skills of Black Mamba, but a battle wasnt fought by a single person. In Sahel, where brigade troops swelled, a handful of commandos could melt in a single moment. Central and northern Chad was an endless, vast wasteland. Without accurate information on ones location, it was possible to wander through the desert. That could increase the distance to finding the Raccoon by a thousand miles. After reviews and recommendations, the meeting ended with a selection of 10 team members. Chapter 18 The operation was called Raccoon Herding. Lieutenant Jean Paul was chosen as the team leader. He was serving in the 3rd Infantry Regiment in Guinea and was also a veteran of desert warfare, having served in Algerias civil war and Guinea for 10 years. Pief had wanted to be the team leader but, unfortunately, had no experience working in Africa. He set aside his regrets and named them Team Ratel after the ratel, an African badger, that weighed 10 kilograms, was about 60 centimeters around its center and was very fierce and long-lived. Ratels were omnivorous but snakes were their staple food. They showed an interesting response when bitten by a cobra. They always bit the cobras head in retaliation, killing it, before falling under its paralysis. A ratels vitality was phenomenal. After being bitten by a cobra, it could dispel its poison in an hour or two. It was a tenacious animal that, after it recovered, leisurely ate the dead cobra. Pief chose the name Team Ratel in hopes of their safe return. Although he was greedy for a promotion, he was like any other commander and cared for his subordinates. The members of Team Ratel consisted of snipers, machine gunners, explosive handlers, and other weapons support. The snipers were Captain Lieutenant Paul, Sergeant Mike, Staff Sergeant Mark, Private Black Mamba, Private First Class Emil, Staff Sergeant Miguel, and Sergeant Mouris. Mortar and heavy fire were handled by Private Jang Shin and Sergeant Burimer. Sergeant Bellman was selected as the medic. Four of the ten men were members of Sergeant Burimers Squadron and had worked together in the past. Sergeant Burimer, Private Emil, Sergeant Mark, and Black Mamba were snipers from the First Squadron. Mike, who had been nearly beaten to death by Black Mamba, was the leader of the Third Squadrons sniper division. Mike had been overshadowed by the appearance of Black Mamba, but he was the sole elite sniper within Legion Etranger. He had taunted Black Mamba because of jealousy. Jang Shin was included in the team, later on, at Black Mambas request. As someone who had been in the 2nd Artillery Corps of the Peoples Liberation Army, he was well-versed in operating machinery and heavy weapons. He was needed to handle 60-millimeter mortar fire and help seize the enemys heavy weapons. The Fourth Squadron of Deuxieme Rep that specialized in sniping and firepower needed to specialize in one other category besides the basic weapons, the Famas and Epal. They called the secondary weapon sub-weaponry. Black Mamba mainly used the Dragunov, so his kukri daggers were considered his sub-weapon while Chartres RPG was considered his sub-weapon. The snipers of the Fourth and Second Squadrons, the specialized companies, acquired melee fighting techniques or heavy weapons as their necessities. Pief and Captain Paul formed Team Ratel with four snipers, two explosives officers, two machine gunners, two heavy weapon handlers, and one first aid/medical officer. The team needed to be built heavily around the snipers. Pief and Paul submitted the confirmed list of subordinates to Philip. Black Mambas personal details were left blank. There was no official data that contained a connection to Black Mamba. Everything that linked Black Mamba to MuSsang Park had been cut off. Of the ten members, the only rookies were Black Mamba, Jang Shin, and Black Mambas partner, Emil. The rest were veterans with at least three years of experience participating in a war in Africa. Mercenaries within Legion Etranger were ranked differently from the Korean ranking system. Even a sergeant had over five years of experience. Nominees for Team Ratel First Lieutenant Jean Paul Age 41, 180 cm, 82 kg Graduate of Frances DGSE. Officer of the 3rd Infantry Regiment of Guineas Desert Warfare. Mastery of Savate. Dispassionate, good leadership. Skilled in strategic tactics, possible talent in espionage. Participated in the Algerias and Guineas Civil Wars. Specialty: sniping/close-combat Sub-weaponry: KA-BAR Knife/Glock Sergeant Al Burimer Age 35, 186 cm, 98 kg Graduate of the British Army explosives squad. Deuxieme Reps Sniper Squad Leader After 3 years at the 3rd Infantry Regiment in French Guinea, he moved into the airborne regiment. Fishing maniac. Participant of the Algerian War Specialty: sniping Sub-weaponry: Glock Sergeant 1st Class Paul Mike Age 33, 205 cm, 115 kg From the Texas National Guard. Six years in the Djiboutis 13th Foreign Brigade. Leader of Deuxieme Reps 3rd Squadron. The best sniper in the squadron. Participated in the Algeria and C?te dIvoire Civil Wars Specialty: sniping Sub-weaponry: Beretta Sergeant David Mark Age 28, 186 cm, 86 kg Six years of experience in Djiboutis 13th Foreign Brigade. Leader of Deuxieme Reps Sniper Squadron. Best sniper within the sniper regiment. Participant in the Marley Civil War. Specialty: sniping Sub-weaponry: Glock Black Mamba Sergeant Bellman Age 33, 178 cm, 72 kg Certified doctor. Headquarter-stationed squadron of Deuxieme Rep. Friends are known to be in the Mafia. The only squad member with a doctors certificate, reason for Team Ratel inclusion. Participant in the Congo Civil War. Specialty: emergency treatment Sub-Weaponry: Glock Sergeant Huang Mouris Age 34, 180 cm, 76 kg From the Moroccan garrison. Deuxieme Reps Firearms Platoon Entered long-term service after five years at Djiboutis 13th Foreign Brigade. Specializing in explosives, booby trap production, and installation. Participant in the wars in Algeria and Sudan. Specialty: explosives, booby trap production/installation Sub-weaponry: Dragunov Sergeant Hakam Chartres Age 43, 182 cm, 82 kg Researcher at the Middle East History University, Paris, France. Deuxieme Rep Firearms division. Long-term service after five years in the Djibouti 13th Foreign Brigade. A wine lover, fluent in Arabic and Swahili. Participant in the Chad Civil War and Algerian Civil War Specialty: explosives, booby traps Sub-weaponry: RPG Private Jang Shin Age 24, 168 cm, 67 kg He is from the Peoples Republic of China. Expert in the Eight Combined Movements martial arts. Deuxieme Reps Firearms Platoon. Genius in the operation and maintenance of machinery. Specialty: mine thrower Sub-weaponry: poisoned needles Private Victor Emil Age 28. 190 cm, 92 kg 3 years of experience working in the 13th Brigade, Djibouti. Deuxieme Rep Sniper Squadron Partner of Black Mamba. National French Judo champion. No experience in war. Selected as a partner of Black Mamba. Specialty: Machine Gun Sub-weaponry: Dragunov Corporal Shawn Miguel Age 31, 176 cm, 71 kg From Colombias Drug Control Unit. Deuxieme Reps firearm squad. Participant in Algerias Civil War. Specialty: machine gun Sub-weaponry: Glock The Glock 19 was widely used by the team members as a sub-weapon. It was recently developed by Glock in Austria and was a semi-automatic pistol that could fire 19 rounds of 9-millimeter Parabellum bullets. Compared to conventional pistols, the structure was very compact and simplified. The two pistol masterpieces of the 80s were the Beretta and Glock. The Berettas small size, low recoil, and soft trigger made it a favorite among information operating officers. The Glock, on the other hand, was used by the special forces because it was resistant to harsh environments and trouble-free. Black Mamba had received 4500-franc Glock from Pief. The time had come to pay off that debt. When Philip got the report, he took a Mont Blanc fountain pen out of the drawer and signed it happily. There were four snipers in the unit and four from the explosives unit. It was the best possible team to support Black Mamba. He liked that most of the members were from his regiment. If Black Mamba succeeded in the operation, the position of a general was a sure thing. That was how important the Chad operation was. Of course, if they were to fail, he would have to pack his belongings instead of receiving a promotion. While Colonel Philip signed the list of members to send into Hells Gate, Burimer and Black Mamba were fishing on the Shari River. Burimer was an avid fishing maniac who even the regiment commander couldnt keep from fishing. In Corsica, he went down to the Calvi Harbors breakwater to fish. On weekends, he refused to go to a club, or return home, instead choosing to wrestle with the domina cibril. Burimers outdoor excursions became more frequent after tasting raw fish with Black Mamba. Having tasted the Korean red chili pepper paste with sashimi, he annoyed Black Mamba because he worshipped the paste to the point where it was unbecoming of a Frenchman. Sergeant Burimer and the squadron members devised a massive launch plan. It was an ambitious plan to catch a goliath tigerfish while they traveled up to Lake Chad. The goliath tigerfish were large carnivorous fish that lived in the Congo River and spawned in Lake Chad. They were monsters known for eating crocodiles. The adults grew up to 2 meters and weighed up to 100 kilograms. Burimers desire was unfortunately denied. It was because the members of Team Ratel were gathered in secret. It had only been a week since they had set foot in Chad. Commander Pief hadnt simply bought Petit Canard a meal for free. It was time for Black Mamba to pay off that meal. Burimer and Black Mambas excursions were similarly forced to end. Captain Lieutenant Paul divided the group into experienced men and rookies after the meeting, disregarding their age. Sergeant Burimer, how many have you killed? I killed five in Algeria. Ive killed more than a hundred after returning to headquarters near the breakwater. At Burimers words, the team members suppressed their laughter. The members without a kill in their past were Black Mamba, Jang Shin, and Emil. The other members were full of experience in killing and surviving in the desert. Lieutenant Mike, how many have you killed? I managed to clear 33 people. 22 in Algeria, and 11 in C?te dIvoire. Mike replied proudly. He then turned to glare at Black Mamba. Black Mamba felt the stare but didnt bother to pay attention. His mind was full of thoughts; he didnt have the time to deal with the tantrums of a stupid man. Paul believed that a soldier had to overcome the shock of killing to become a real soldier. No matter how long one had been in the military, without an actual kill, he considered them rookies. After killing a person, a humans perspective changed greatly. He matched up the team members according to their specialties and past killing records. In Pauls eyes, Black Mamba, Jang Shin, and Emil were rookies who smelled like newborns. It was his responsibility to succeed in this operation and make those rookies survive. He began his speech before the stiff rookies. Listen, all of you, the fear of murdering is greater than the fear of being murdered. The fear that you might die can be overcome by training, but you have to overcome the fear of killing another human being. The fear of death fades in time, but the fear of murder is colored with time. We are soldiers. A soldiers purpose is murder. The enemy is our target and is not a human but just an enemy. Soldiers must not kill non-enemy targets. Therefore, a soldier who cannot kill an enemy is not a soldier. Someone who cries after killing the enemy is similarly not a soldier. The fear of death and the fear of murder! Black Mamba was moved by the short speech given by the wrinkled lieutenant. Only an individuals morality and rationality could determine the difference between their fear of death and their fear of murder. Could there be a person who knew the fear of death and murder better than Black Mamba? He was already a warrior who had overcome both. Kill! Kill the enemy! Black Mamba felt as if he had truly become a mercenary. Black Mamba! Oui. l have received orders to concentrate the operation around you. Frankly, I have no trust in you. Aside from your skills, do you have experience with murder? Black Mambas gaze met the captains blue-gray eyes. These were the eyes of a strong man. Strength entered Black Mambas eyes. At the sharpening gaze, Paul found himself startled. Captain, have you ever cut a mans throat with a knife? Have you felt the bones of a humans neck being crushed at your fingertips? Have you ever had a backbone as your bed and skin as your blanket? Pauls face hardened. The rookies eyes were too clear to be considered the eyes of a murderer. And that is you? I am Black Mamba. I dont shoot with my head in the ground. I am not going to be my comrades burden. Even the best warrior had once been a rookie. Chapter 19 Black Mamba avoided answering the question directly and said, Hahaha, youre right. Anyone is a rookie when they begin. Pauls face lost its frown because of the rookies reply in awkward French. He didnt know this persons past, and he didnt know his ability, but he seemed to have a strong mentality. His confidence in this guy increased greatly. Like he had said, a rookie became a warrior after experiencing the battlefield. If the kid lived up to his reputation as a god sniper, like Pief promised, it would be a huge boost to the operation. There are idiots who regress in their abilities the more they fight because when youre injured, the fear of death kills your courage. You can be a true warrior when you overcome the fear of death. Black Mamba laughed inwardly at his advice. The captain was a mercenary whose hair had turned gray from the UV rays of the desert. He must have worried a lot. He must feel as if hes walking around with a poorly made hand grenade. Like hes walking around with a pistol without a safety or a gun with a broken trigger. He could understand. For a commander, an inexperienced subordinate caused more anxiety than a weak subordinate. He had killed a man with an ax when he was in his late teens. He had fought for his life against a leopard in a cave. The captain was worrying over nothing. The fear of injury and death? He had already overcome those two before he received his ID card. Death wasnt scary, but he was scared to die without finding his mother. He wanted to meet her and ask something. He wanted to ask about the reason for his abandonment But if he died, he couldnt ask. That was the reason he needed to stay alive. November 3, 1982. Team Ratel moved towards Mondo, north of Chad, on a Chinook helicopter. This was the limit of the government and the militarys power. The north of Mondo fell into the FROLINATs sphere of influence. After several tries, the badger finally had been dispatched to catch the Raccoon. Developed by Boeing in 1958, the Chinook helicopter was known as the strongest transporter in the 1980s. It was box-shaped with propellers on the back and front of the body. With two powerful 3000-horsepower turbo engines, the Chinook could carry 13 tons of cargo in its fuselage, so it could handle 35 fully armed special forces members and their supplies. The three CH-47Ds, which were from the Chinook line, housed 11 members and supplies, four Toyota pickups adapted for the desert, and two bikes. Mike murmured complaints throughout the entire flight that the airborne crew crawled like puppies. Sergeant Burimer prayed for a reunion with his daughter after a successful operation, Jang Shin murmured his wifes name repeatedly, and Miguel recited The Rosary. Black Mamba stretched out his legs and snored. As soon as the helicopters rear door opened, Black Mamba sucked in a breath because of the sudden heat. Dry heat and a dirty breeze welcomed Team Ratel. After a while, a cloud of flies swarmed enthusiastically to greet them. F*ck, its crazy hot. They had only flown for two hours from the NDjamena base, but the natural environment here was quite different. The dried, dead grasses of the red wasteland continued into the horizon. Compared to this place, the NDjamena base could be considered a heaven. The base had air conditioning, and the area around the base was lush with the flowing river nearby. The regiment camp along the Shari river wasnt Africa. Soldiers, welcome to Africa. This is the southern end of the Sahel belt. Its a place with only dry land and sand storms. The captain flung his arms open like a travel guide and smiled crookedly. This is really Africa! Black Mamba felt as if he had truly arrived in Africa. The Chinooks rear ramp opened. Pickups loaded with supplies crawled out from the cabin. The French military had not been aware of the need for a high mobility truck. They hadnt developed one because they had no concept of it. Legion Etranger used a high-powered, four-seat Toyota pickup as a high-altitude combat vehicle. It had a powerful 500-horsepower engine and a wide tire. The luggage compartment was equipped with a machine gun holder, the front windshield was replaced with bulletproof glass, and the fender was replaced with a 3-millimeter iron plate. Only its structure resembled a pickup as it was a combat vehicle. The Chinooks rear ramp closed, and its propellers turned in the air with a loud rotor sound. Because of the risk of being shot down, the Chinook couldnt proceed any further. The north of Mondo was surrounded by FROLINAT troops with a SAM-7. Burimer laughed. Were like a little girl who let go of her mothers hand and got lost in the Tuileries Garden! We would have to do it by hand, Chartres sighed. The north of Chad was a wasteland with no communities. They had to rely on air travel for transportation between cities. The only ones who took the long dirt road were camels or guerrillas. Road infrastructures? They didnt exist. The only thing that awaited Team Ratel were harsh conditions. Colonel Philip had considered a high-altitude assault to approach the Bodele region. But his plan was denied by the Chief of Operations and the DGSE because they didnt have enough information regarding the FROLINAT. The Bodele flatland had large numbers of guerrillas swarming around like rabid dogs. They would become targets the moment the guerrillas spotted them in the air. There was a good possibility that they would be annihilated before they even touched the ground. In a situation that couldnt be controlled, they had to avoid a plan with high risks. The Deuxieme Reps Operations unit and Captain Paul had to make the difficult decision to enter on foot. Black Mambas sight headed right. A living being had been caught on his radar. It was a human. Captain, a person at nine oclock in 50 meters. Putain! Enemy! The members of the sniper unit, Burimer, Emil, Mike, Jang Shin, and Chartres threw their bodies for cover behind the vehicle. They knew Black Mambas skills very well. Wha what? Meanwhile, the members from the other units surveyed the area rapidly. This was the same for the captain. He couldnt see a human, nonetheless a rat. The helicopter had landed in a wide clearing without a hint of grass. There were no obstacles to hide behind. Black Mamba, what are you doing? When Bellman asked, Black Mamba wordlessly raised his Famas with the silencer attached. Pst pst pst Yellow dust rose from the ground that was hit with the three warning shots. The captains eyes widened. The ground shook, and then a man climbed out. Dont shoot! A person dressed in blue desert attire shouted at the top of his lungs as he raised both of his hands in the air. His entire face had been covered with a veil, leaving only his eyes visible. It was hard to tell whether he was a man or a woman. The teams eyes widened in surprise. That was a perfect cover; they had not sensed anything. Then all eyes were on Black Mamba. He simply shrugged. Je suis de chier froid (Youve given me chills.). Enchante. Je suis Ombuti (Hi. Im Ombuti.). Bellman looked at the captain without releasing his guard. Hes the guide. The captain shouted. Raise your hands and approach, Bellman ordered as he lowered his gun. The man limped slightly, but it wasnt too noticeable. Stop! Bellman stopped the man five meters from where they stood. The captain spoke in code. The humidity of Lake Chad had risen a meter. No. It has lessened due to the drought. Tibesti received two rounds of rain. They also had snow for the first time in seven years. The captain, after confirming the passwords, placed his hand forward. Nice to meet you. Paul. Al Shalam Alaikum! (May you be at peace with Allahs mercy!). Ombuti. Alaikum Shalam, Black Mamba. This was a common greeting in Islamic regions. Black Mamba, after recognizing it, also greeted the man while standing next to the captain. Ombutis gaze turned towards Black Mamba. Did you shoot? Yes. How did you know? I just knew. I almost died. You didnt die. Why the f*ck is he complaining when I let him live? Of course, he said the latter in Korean. Because he hadnt felt any threats from the concealed figure, he had only fired warning shots. He was uncomfortable with the old Arab mans complaints; after all, he had let him live. Ombutis eyes, which had been staring at Black Mamba, thinned. It seemed as if he was smiling. Black Mamba had to guess since he could only see his eyes. The rest of the team, who had been hiding behind the vehicle, came out with haggard faces. That was an amazing concealment. At Chartres words, Ombutis eyes thinned again. It is something any Tuareg warrior can do. The amazing person here is that man. Ombuti pointed at Black Mamba. The captain and the team members from the different units all looked at Black Mamba. Their gazes were strange. A human shouldnt be able to recognize a presence underground and 50 meters away from them. How did you know? The captain repeated Ombutis question. Im Black Mamba, his answer was filled with pride. A smile appeared on the captains face. Seems like youll do your share. With this single comment, the captain turned to look at the rest of the team. The sniper unit looked calm. The members from the other units still had surprise written across their faces. Now, he understood what Colonel Philip had been talking about. Black Mamba was someone worth his call name. He understood why Team Ratel had been constructed to support Black Mamba. Their guide was also not normal. Bullets had landed right before his eyes, but he hadnt seemed very surprised. Show me your face. At the captains request, the guide shook his head. A warrior doesnt show his face too easily. Me and my subordinates are warriors. I see! Slightly convinced, Ombuti loosened the covering called a litam. He unveiled everything but his mouth. When he revealed himself, they could see a blackened face in its early fifties. It was the unique face of a desert tribe warrior with three lines of wrinkles on the forehead, hollow and deep eyes, a high nose bridge, and cheekbones that stood out. It was difficult to attach humor to this face. Reveal the rest of your face. The guide had been expressionless the entire time and twitched at Burimers words. Tuareg warriors do not show their mouths to foreigners. His spoke broken French, but Black Mamba found it rather easy to understand. Burimer replied with a firm face. We are not foreigners. We are warriors who will live and die together for the time being. Mike added to Burimers words. You wouldnt eat with you rear-end during meals, after all. The team held back their laughter. Ombuti looked around at the team members and his face lost its expression. Black Mamba recognized the red flag that passed through his eyes. It was a feeling of anger. Black Mamba wasnt feeling good about Mikes rude words. You are right. He didnt specify who was right, but the Ombuti agreed and uncovered his face. His skin was flaky and white, and his lips were ugly as their layers had peeled off because of the strong sun and the rough winds. His sunken eyes and highly stretched nose made it obvious that he was a Tuareg, a member of the Berber tribe. Ombuti, after showing his face, then carefully wound the litam around himself again. Soon his face was hidden and only his eyes were left. Black Mamba recognized that Ombuti hadnt led a good life. Anyone who could easily deal with anger was someone he should be looking out for. The Tuareg were members of the Berbers of North Africa. The majority of them lived in Niger, Mali, Libya, Algeria, and a few lived in northwest Chad. The Tuareg lived as nomads and camel caravans because of the harsh desert environment, and their strong warrior traits had grown from this life. Some began farming around the year, but they were few. Since the thirteenth century, their tribes had been notorious for their fierce and cruel treatment towards the Europeans, and the Europeans referred to the Tuareg as masked warriors. The turban they wore was a 4-meter long cotton cloth called a litam or arasso. The litam was used to protect the head and face from the sun, sand, heat, cold, and pests. When worn, it covered the entire head, leaving only the eyes showing. Since the time of the Joseon Dynasty, the Tuaregs have worn litams as a rite of adulthood. The Tuareg did not like to expose their mouths and noses because of their superstition. They believed that demons invaded mouths and noses. From the Tuaregs perspective, the Europeans had plundered their territory and were the true thieves. They had only fought to protect their family and property from the white European bandits. From this defensive maneuver, they had turned increasingly aggressive. Violence called for ranks. They attacked and enslaved black tribes and became a predatory tribe. Nomadic people in poor circumstances, across the east and west, tended to clarify and remember the Tuaregs grace and revenge. The Tuaregs had also become a race of warriors, paying back their graces tenfold and getting revenge a hundredfold. Chapter 20 After World War II, a frenzy of independence broke out in Africa. Neither Europe nor the neighboring African countries wanted the Tuareg to achieve independence because they felt that they were overly militant people. It was an absurd reason, but it was a testament to the Europeans fear of the Tuareg. The Tuareg tribe invariably lived to trade and farm, as they came under the control of those they had once enslaved. All that was left for them was their wounded pride. The captain recalled the information regarding Ombuti that he had received from the DGSE: Has the status of Imoharen amongst the Tuareg tribe of the Sahara. Born into the northern Kel Ayr of Niger. Lived in Bilma, Niger with his parents until he was 10 years old. Lost his parents in a surprise attack by the Tubu Tribe and was adopted by a man of Imrad status who worked as a camel peddler. Began his camel caravan at 20 years old. The route crossed over Bilma, Niger and Paya Largo, Chads oasis city, following the northern Sahel region. Became rich by selling gold products. Married at the age of 25. Lost his wife and 13-year-old daughter in an attack by FAP guerrillas, at age 38. His wife and daughter were raped before they were killed. He organized a militia with the Tuareg tribe to get revenge. He lost against the FROLINATs Habib army in the Tibesti Joura region. Unstable gait because he was shot in the knee during combat, but there is no difficulty in his activities. While he was being chased by the FROLINAT, he was captured by DGSE and began working as a slipper. Knows the topography of Nigers and Chads middle regions well due to his work as a camel caravan peddler. A Class A local agent due to his many native connections. As a bearer of Imoharen status is proud and responsible. A high-class warrior who calls himself Imohag (a person of elegance). Make sure he is not offended during the operation. As you can see, this Ombuti fellow is a guide. He is a Tuareg warrior and aristocrat. Treat him like a comrade. Paul revealed to his team members that Ombuti was the Tuareg tribes Immoharen and asked them to respect him. Ombuti simply lifted the hem of his litam during the meal to eat. The team members couldnt see him chewing the food. It looked so uncomfortable that the onlookers felt disturbed. Black Mamba, that looks very uncomfortable, Jang Shin commented. Didnt Chinese women of the middle ages consider their bare feet shameful, as shameful as revealing their private parts? So just think of it as something along the same vein. Jang Shin nodded. The environment and culture were different. Outsiders would not easily understand the peculiar behavior of aboriginal rituals and customs. After the meal, Chartres briefed the team on the Tuareg culture. He was fluent in the culture and history of African tribes; it was why he was chosen to be part of this operation. The Tuareg upper class were Arabs. They were called Ilalan, the freemen. The Ilallan were divided into the ruling class called Imoharen and the servant class called Imrad. Imrad also consisted of freed slaves who had blood of the freemen mixed in with theirs. All Imoharen were warriors. The Imrad lived under their protection and engaged in farming and ritualistic practices. The lower class was made of black slaves called Iklan. The Iklan were distributed to the Imrad to be used as farmers or to cultivate date palms in the oasis. The Imoharen were warriors and never worked. All they did was cover their faces with the litam and wield a Shamshir. The Tuareg were a matriarchal tribe and, unlike other Arabs, adhered to monogamy. However, the Tuareg living near the Sahel didnt have such a clear class system. The tribe living in the Sahara, on the other hand, maintained a thorough social hierarchy stricter than Indias caste system. It was an unusual case for Ombuti, an Imoharen, to work as a camel peddler. Black Mamba stared at Ombuti with a curious eye as he prayed toward the northwest. The Tuareg were 99-percent Muslim. Ombuti was also a devout Muslim who performed five salats every day. He had seen Muslims doing a salat in France. They pressed both of their hands to the sides of their heads and mumbled as they prayed. It was still a strange sight to watch even after witnessing it several times. Ombuti gave the team members a white gandoura and litam. A gandoura was a traditional Tuareg dress that looked like a scroll. Black Mamba flung the gandoura around himself and tied the baggy arms with a belt. He had been able to guess how to put on the gandoura, but the long rope-like litam was difficult to wear by approximation. He grabbed the litam and looked at Ombuti with his eyes. His gaze meant: Would you be able to wear the hanbok if I threw it at your face? Mike voiced his complaints. Why do we need to dress like robbers? Just let us wear a mask. Mike, this is an Arab nation. Do you want to advertise yourself as a member of the special forces? No, sir. Mikes complaints were immediately shot down by the Captain. Ombuti summoned Emil as an assistant to demonstrate. Emil soon became a Tuareg Iklan. When he put on gandoura and covered his face with the litam, he couldnt be distinguished from the natives. Black Mamba felt uncomfortable hiding his face in the middle of a war zone. Covering his ears and nose dampened his senses. He wrapped his face according to the demonstration, but he left out his ears and eyes. Ombuti smiled at Black Mamba wearing the litam haphazardly. His expression looked as if he was seeing a housewife placing silk clothes into the washing machine. Bzzz Zzzz Zzz A frighteningly large swarm of flies appeared. Black Mamba became frightened. It was only after the onslaught of flies that he understood Ombutis expression. There were many kinds of flies: flies that were smaller than a grain to flies that were larger than flesh flies. The flies flew into any opening. Like Ombuti, he wrapped the litam more firmly around his face leaving only his eyes out. He also wore goggles. Why are you wearing blue? Were wearing white. Ombuti laughed at Mikes dissatisfied question. No, it looked as if he was laughing. He had covered his entire face, so they didnt know whether he was laughing or crying. They simply assumed that when the eyes turned thin, he was laughing. Blue can only be worn by the Imoharen. Commoners wear yellow or white. So youre saying youre a noble, and Im a commoner? Mike asked as if he was going to bite. I dont know if youre a commoner, but Im certain Im a noble. The answer came out so easily. It was as if he was stating that a chicken had two legs and a dog had four legs. At his confidence, everyone felt resigned. Ombuti continued talking. This operation is secret. Shouldnt we avoid the attention of the aboriginal people and the FROLINAT? Or am I wrong? What does the color of our clothes have to do with it? Ombuti looked at Mike with a distant expression. His eyes were full of desire to firmly bash the black guy who kept on aggravating him. Blue is the color of a Tuareg warrior. Its not like it used to be, but the Sahara and Sahel regions still have famed reputations attached to a Tuareg warrior. If a large number of people flock together in blue attire, aboriginal people will become chaotic. They have a deep-rooted fear of our tribal warriors. Ha. It should be notorious reputations, not famed. Mike, if youre too thick-headed to understand, then shut your mouth. This is a real situation. The captain shouted at Mike and his useless comments. The captain and the rest of the team fully understood Ombutis explanation. There was nothing good in attracting the eyes of the enemy. The gandoura and litam were indispensable items for camouflage purposes, wind, and direct sunlight. The Sahels direct sunlight was intense enough to burn and blister exposed skin at once. Ombuti, this is my first operation in Chad. Same for my subordinates. The first destination is Korotaro. Could you explain how to get there? Lets see the strategic map. Ombuti peered into the map for some time, smirked, folded the map, and handed it back to the captain. This map was created by the French army 20 years ago. Its useless. Youre saying the strategic map is useless? Mike shouted. Ombuti wordlessly pulled out an oily paper from his chest in response to Mikes shout. When he unfolded the paper, a thin hide that had been folded several times appeared. When that was unfolded, a large map of about three feet in length and width appeared. It was a handmade map made from vellum, a high-quality material made from cow skin, with silver and velvet that had been engraved into it with a bulls horn. It was an amazing map that detailed the deep sand plains amongst the steppe, the rocky regions of the Erg, Wadi where water had dried, and the grasslands. It also had a detailed, informative drawing of the oases in Niger and Chad, as well as the sizes of villages. It was a million times better than the strategic map Team Ratel used. The teams eyes widened. The details, and of course the antique value of the map itself, were impressive. Wow, to think Im seeing a map drawn on a hide, something that only appears in fairy tales, Black Mamba said admiring it. A great map. I think it will help a lot with this operation, the captain noted with sincere admiration. I inherited it from my stepfather. He drew it based around the French military-assigned map. I have added details while traveling around the northern regions for 20 years. Pride flickered in Ombutis face. You added additional human geography and terrain and continued to update it. The captain exclaimed. It was a living map. It held great tactical value. Yes, all camel caravans have their maps. Desert predators, when attacking, first steal that very map. In the desert, maps are the most valuable items although water rivals that value very often. Ombutis map also had no cities or roads north of the Kanem province. That was not much different from military maps. If there was anything different from the military map, it was that the towns locations were in silver, and the Wadi and valleys were in blue. Black Mamba pointed to a vast area from the northern Kanem province to southern Tibesti. Why havent you marked anything here? Do you mark rocks, sand, and grass on the map? Black Mamba was shocked at Ombutis response. Seems like this person is more offending than he looks, Black Mamba thought. He was aggressive to the point that he was comparable to Mike. There is no mountain, no river, no city, no road. Just rocks, sand, and bushes. Of course, there are many empty places. This is somewhere I have never been. Black Mamba found it hard to understand Ombutis words. The terrain of Korea was minuscule. If there was a mountain, there was a river; if there was a river, there was a field, and if there was a field, there was a village. Korea was connected from city to city. Black Mamba, a Korean native, found it hard to understand the vast wasteland, grassland, and desert. At that moment in time, he didnt even know that he would come to experience that harsh region himself. Ombutis mottled, thick fingers moved around the map. The skin was peeled off because of the intense sunlight, revealing the dermis. Muharib (warrior), I do not know the whereabouts of The Raccoon. The Bodele lowlands are too large to be searched with these numbers. At Ombutis words, the captain waved his hand in denial. Ombuti, do not call us Muharib, call us by our names. What exactly are the Bodele lowlands? Even the captain, who was a lieutenant and spent 10 years in North Africa, knew little about Chad. It was even darker than the darkest lands. The dark land here was not an indicator of racial or geological character but a political and economic characteristic. Chad was a country with no presence in the international community. It was less developed than Congo or Zimbabwe, which were infamous for poverty. Of course, they were all the same third-world countries where the difference in poverty was laughable. I see. Ill call you by your name if you want. The Bodele lowlands are wetlands. This is where Lake Chads water flows underground. What? The water from Lake Chad, 630 kilometers away, flows into Bodele? Astonished, the captain refuted Ombutis words. The water of Lake Chad flows into Bodele through a groundwater channel called Bahr el Ghazal. The current Lake Chad is only 3000 square kilometers in diameter, but it is said to have been over a million square kilometers, 10,000 years ago. I cant believe it! I also cant believe it. Geologists say that the Bodele region was once a part of Lake Chad. So it remains a marsh although it is turning into a desert, too. Burimer whistled. Wow, a lake over 700 kilometers! Seems like Lake Baikal isnt going to measure up. What is the width of the Bodele lowlands? I cant guess from the map. The captain asked with a serious expression. Nobody knows exactly. Roughly 30,000 square kilos. Youll understand if you think of it as a wasteland with developed playa. Do not expect farmland or forests because there is no water. In the past, there were many swamps, but, now, most of them are dry. There are no plants or animals. There will be a lot of flies and mosquitoes. As Black Mamba heard the explanation, he became unsure about the harsh environment and unprecedented geography. How could it be so different from Korea? The distance between Seoul and Busan was 400 kilometers. If the daily difference in temperature exceeded 15 degrees Celsius, people unable to cope with the difference would emerge everywhere in Korea. In Africa, thousands of kilometers were discussed in a single conversation, and a daily change between 20 to 30 degrees Celsius was common. Additionally, they said that they had to search for The Raccoon somewhere in 30,000 square kilometers. It was something to be scared of. Chapter 21 Damn it, this is ridiculous. Im practically speechless, he complained automatically. Seoul was 605-square-kilometers wide, and Yeouido was 8.4 square kilometers. He was about to search through a land that was 50 times larger than Seoul and 4000 times larger than Yeouido. Ombuti looked around at the teams astounded faces before speaking once more. The Bodele lowlands arent wetlands or grasslands. Think of them as a large playa, the bottom of a lake with no water. The region that was dry yesterday would be the river of today. The basin in which you drew water from yesterday will disappear the next day, and the place where you set up a tent will turn into a sea the next morning. The reason why there is no need for a map is because the region changes every day. Although, even that has become a tale of the past due to the drought. It sounded crazier the more they heard. Even calling it crazy was an inadequate description. It seemed as though hundreds of those mountains in Shandong could fit into the Bodele depression. I want to hear your opinion since you are more knowledgeable about local matters. Disregarding The Raccoon, I only need to know the direction. Whats your recommended route of travel? At the captains question, Ombuti drew a line with his fingers from one point of the map to another. The Raccoon had his first battle with the Habib army in the middle region of Bodele, Aodanga. Afterward, he was chased by the Habib army to the east and had three other clashes. His personal guards must have been annihilated by now. If we analyze his route, we can assume he is in the Chicha region. And right here, Chicha is by the side road where Borukus flight station is, in the central city of Faya. The captain nodded his head. That was not much different from the information he had received from the DGSE. And your recommended route? We can go to Salae through the north-western road by moving towards north-eastern Moussaro from Mondo. And once we take the Wadi at Salae and move northwest by 210 kilometers, we will be out of Kanem. If we move beyond the Kanem border towards the north, well be in Koro Taro. Thats Borkous oasis city. Koro Taro is also Bodeles eastern entrance. There are less than 100 kilometers from Koro Taro to Chicha. Kanem may have fallen under FROLINATs influence, but the city of Borkou is a split world. You also need to be wary of the people. Well move through Koro Taro towards Chicha. The captain made his decision. Their first destination was Koro Taro. From now on, it was going to be a race against time. No, no. To think Deuxieme Rep, which was supposed to be an osprey, would have to run like a herd of gnus. Our rear ends are not going to survive. Chartres looked at the route Ombuti laid out and expressed his frustration with a sigh. It really is far. Think of the many guerrillas whod run at us! Burimer worried realistically. There wont only be people running at us. Im more afraid of the flies. Black Mamba flicked away the flies that were digging into the seams of his goggles and grumbled. Dead flies were strewn around him. His master was careful to not even step on ants, but he, as the disciple, had no qualms about killing. Im going to go crazy, I need goggles. At Marks words, everyone nodded. Some flies could burrow into a needle hole. Everyone was annoyed. Ombuti threw oil into the fire. When its darker, the mosquitoes will greet you even more harshly. Were not on a picnic, anyhow. From now on, we also need to avoid the guerrillas and locals. There are many FROLINAT spies amongst them. Think of the distance at around 1000 kilometers since were going around them. 1000 kilometers! Black Mamba shouted once more. 1000 kilometers meant 2500 li. This country had vast lands but a f*cked up road infrastructure. He felt dizzy thinking about the large units. Depending on the situation, the distance might increase. What I find hard to understand is why youve chosen Mondo as your starting point. Currently, Chad is no different from a land without a government. The cities are in chaos, and the guerrillas roam the boundaries. If you guys had entered from Koro Taro by air, the operation would have gone faster. Then, youd have fewer chances of encountering the guerrillas. This is only an opinion. Ombuti, you dont have to think on our behalf. Your job is to guide us to the Bodele post undetected by the guerrillas, the captain cut him off. Ombuti agreed easily. Sorry. It seems like I overstepped. I just wanted to remind you guys that youre not going on the Autobahn or Autoroute highways. The captain himself was similarly unsure. It was hard to estimate how long theyd have to wander the large Sahel belt. Aside from the guerrillas, this was a fight against the environment. The longer the operation went, the more their survival rates would fall. The team members also had many complaints regarding the long routes. Captain, the guide isnt wrong. The STRELA 2 has but 4 kilometers of range. Why didnt we do a free-fall operation? As usual, Mike began his rude provocations. Mike, the Borkou region is a land full of guerrillas. If were unlucky, well be annihilated before we even land on the ground. Wheres an operation without risks? Rather than off-roading, were better off free-falling a hundred times. The captains gray eyes stared straight into Mikes eyes. Even the teams gazes werent kind. What was he going to do about an operation that they had already decided on? Sergeant Mike, operations are under the Strategic Divisions jurisdiction. We are the hands and feet that carry out the operations. Shut up and do your job. Do you understand? Oui! Mike, scared by the captains charisma, squeaked out the affirmative then closed his mouth. The captain didnt like that Commander Louis had placed Mike on their team. This was a guy who ruined teamwork. No special forces members wanted to become a dog instead of a specialized fighter. Their task had already begun. Complaints were only going to ruin the teamwork. The captain warned the team members once more. Attention, you all have heard the guides words. We are going through Moussaro and Salae to enter Borkou. We are going by Koro Taro, using the northern routes to enter Chicha. The total distance between extracting The Raccoon and returning is over 2000 kilometers. We will try to avoid a battle. We have seven days, and the route is between the Sahel Belt and the desert. The unfamiliar region and weather is our second enemy, so everyone should pay attention to their own conditions and make sure youre not bitten by an insect. Jang Shin, pay attention to the vehicle. Over. Damn, to think there are twelve Marcos in search of a single raccoon. Im going to cry. Keke, Marco searched 3000 leagues for his mother. Ours is less than one. Be grateful, everyone. At Chartres words, Sergeant Burimer smiled. Chartres and Burimer had calm personalities that never lost their humor. Were not that cute Marco but ospreys with Famas. Im more worried about whether a raccoon would greet the ospreys. The captain went along with Chartres joke. Hahaha! At the captains words, everyone laughed. They had imagined a raccoons frightened eyes greeted by an osprey with a loaded Famas. At the joke, the mood relaxed a lot. Even Ombuti, who had felt awkward because of the captains sharp refute, laughed along. Wow, we could use this. Jang Shin exclaimed after examining the pickup. The tire was 15 inches in width, larger than average. It was perfect for a run in the plains and desert. The rifle, which was reinforced with a 3-millimeter iron plate, seemed to be capable of exploding a body. Jang Shin opened up the hood and ducked into the engine bay as if he was being pulled inside. He examined the system, then, after finishing his check, knocked against the vehicle. There will be no other Rambo gun than this if the fire rate keeps up. It will survive a month in the desert. Bon, dbouche-toi! (Good, move it!) The team members rushed to the four vehicles and got in. Ombuti grabbed the steering wheel of the first car and turned it in a north-eastern direction. The 12 mercenaries and the guide were sucked into the large Sahel region. The Sahel Belt, or Sahel region, referred to the southern border of the Sahara Desert, which occupied the entirety of northern Africa. Sahel meant edge in Arabic. It formed the border between the Sahara Desert and the Southern Grasslands. The Sahel Belt had a semi-arid desert climate. Since the early-70s, droughts, and sandstorms had led to rapid desertification in the region. Geographically, it was a long band extending 14 to 20 degrees northern latitude, from east to west. The belt was 300 kilometers wide and 5000 kilometers east to west. From the north of Senegal, facing the Atlantic Ocean, it crossed over the south of Mauritania, central Mali, southern Niger, central Chad, northern Nigeria, northern Cameroon, and northern Burkina Faso to the Red Seas Aden Bay. The annual precipitation was only around 250 millimeters. In the last three years, it had only surpassed 100 millimeters. Simply put, it was a long, dry strip of land 300 kilometers across the sub-Saharan desert. In the front seats, the captain and Ombuti kept glancing back through the rear mirror. They were glancing at Black Mamba who was looking into the map. The playa was full of broken trees and rough grass. The vehicle was shaking side to side to the point where one would bounce right out if one wasnt careful. Despite the shaking up and down and side to side, Black Mambas body didnt shake even once. He looked like a fixture attached to the seats. When the vehicle shook left, his body tilted left, and when it tilted right, his body tilted right, and when it bounced forwards, his body remained still, keeping the same rhythm as the car. He looked comfortable as if he was lying on a water bed. Amazing! The captain exclaimed honestly. The fact that he was keeping his balance meant that he was ready for a response at any moment. Is that also an Asian martial art? Yes. Its a Korean ancient martial art. Can you teach me? Yes. If you work hard for about 20 years, you can learn it. Allez au diable! The captain swore at Black Mambas careless reply. Even a large difference in strength sounded like a joke when spoken as the truth. Its true. Black Mamba mumbled and nosed the map once more. The northern region had a few cities marked down, and aside from a thin stream drawn like a thread, there wasnt anything else. The north-eastern border with Libya had the Tibesti mountain range. From the capital, NDjamena, to the city, one thin road was drawn. It was a north-eastern road that connected NDjamena to Borkou by the Kanem city. He memorized Ombutis map in its entirety. By studying the region and terrain, he would be able to retreat, and, if not, he would die. The map was easy to memorize as it was simple, but the coordinates were hard to grasp. Emil used the end of his gandoura to wipe his sweat. The captain and Ombuti were glaring ahead with their eyes wide open, but Emil didnt care. There was no reason to stand guard when he had Black Mamba who could sense everything. The heat rose from the flat plains like a haze. Heatwaves blew in from the Sahara, and the heated pickup roasted them like tunas inside an oven. Emil couldnt breathe, and the three others who had boarded with him didnt move an inch. Sergeant Paul had 10 years of experience in Africa, Ombuti was a native, and Black Mamba was a monster who didnt even sweat. Emil, after checking the route, sighed heavily. The distance between Mondo and Koro Taro was over 500 kilometers. If they moved according to plan, they had to enter Bodele after re-supplying at Koro Taro. If they were taking the road, the entire journey would have taken four hours. But the vehicle moved 30 kilometers per hour, which meant they had to run two to three days in dirt. Their butts werent going to survive. Team Ratel, on the first day, moved 270 kilometers from Mondo to Salae through Moussaro. It was because the north-western side was rather bearable. It was from Salae that the situation turned worse. The north of Salae had many guerrillas. Ombuti chose to go off-road to avoid FROLINATs security net. The pickups route ran across the empty land that had Wadi and white ant houses. The re-modified Rambo pickup didnt lose against the rough terrain. They bounced along, off-roading like a robin. Tough grass and wood wrapped around the wheel, but the 500-horsepower engine pushed forward relentlessly. Emil, Jeep does make good cars. Its good for rough roads. Paul and Emil praised the Japanese-made car. Black Mamba felt uncomfortable. Like any other Korean, he reacted to anything Japanese as if one was reacting to an allergic reaction. Emil, do you not want to be my partner? What are you talking about? I dont like Japan. This damned, lousy, metal can. Emil kicked the dashboard. He was witty. The Saharas sand, carried by the wind, was different from normal sands. It was like flour. Not any flour, but one of those soft variations. The tenacity of the soft flour-like sand was amazing. The minuscule sand entered every hole in the body. They now understood why Ombuti wrapped the litam around his entire head. The sand entered their noses, made their throats dry, and made their eyes inside their goggles turn red. Emil kept coughing up mucus and rubbing his ears with his pinky. The milk-colored land didnt show any signs of turning green even after several hours. Aside from the sand-covered coconut tree leaves, there was no green forest nor grass. Even the stops they saw only had shriveled up herdsman and ruined homes. Chapter 22 From Salae onward, they could no longer see the Tubu tribes camels. Camel caravans were mostly in the northern regions of Africa led by the Tuareg and Tubu tribes. The Tuareg tribe had control in the south of the Sahara desert and the Tenere desert in Niger. The Tubu tribe moved around the middle of Chad in the Sahel region carrying low-quality clothes and golden kitchenware on their camels backs. All the team members had worn a gandoura on top of their combat attire. The clothes that they usually wore were not well-ventilated, so they were drenched in sweat to their underwear, and the sand had dug in through the seams of their clothes and rubbed the skin. They felt as though they had wrapped themselves in aluminum foil and stepped inside an oven. Black Mamba was realizing how good Koreas climate was. The heat made his nose dry and his throat and mouth ragged. He took a glimpse of the old Tuareg tribe member. He was simply giving directions to Emil who had grabbed the wheel. He didnt talk aside from those few instructions. The empty scenery continued until sunset. His tension lowered. Emil, I didnt realize Id miss the greenery so much. Cough, spat Emil dragged up as much of his mucus as he could and spat it out. Black, the greenery isnt the problem, the dust is. My respiratory system is weak. I feel like my lungs are going to rot. I think I met the wrong partner. Why? Has your burning comradely feeling cooled already? Damn it, I was only selected because I was Black Mambas partner. I should be rolling around at the Shari Hotel right about now, Emil complained after taking a look at his watch. Who was the person who fought tooth and nail to protect his partner on Mount Cinto, again? Whoa, whoa, friend. Lets not dig up the past. Kahk spat. Their mouths soon turned grainy due to their conversation. Now they understood why Ombuti didnt talk as much. Fck! Where are the plains where lions and zebras swarm around? Wheres the lake where the cranes fly about? Fcking heat, mosquitoes, flies! Black Mamba drummed the console with his palms and vented his frustrations. Emil, still behind the wheel, laughed. There are hyenas where there are lions. Vast dust and no plains. The red hills without a lake have flies instead of cranes. My friend denies reality. Africas reality. Nhsitez pas, je vous coute (Dont hesitate, Ill listen.). Tu nest pas mon type (Youre not my type.). Emil recited Michel Polnareffs song, Qui A Tue Grand Maman? (Who Killed Grandmother?). It was the rookies leisure to not yet know harsh realities. The captain patted Black Mambas shoulder. Look, Black, if you want to see the forests and plains, you should head South. The northern African lands only have open space, desert, and flies. If you want to see the lions, you need to head south. So hold on a little. Were going north after all. Koreans didnt know Africa very well. They knew about the river Thames that was 336 kilometers long but had no clue about the Congo river that was 4370 kilometers long. They knew all about the 50 states in the U.S. but hadnt even heard of the countries in Africa. The Africa that Koreans imagined was the Sahara desert, black people, poverty, and wild animals. This was the same for Black Mamba. The plains were full of trees and grasses. Female lions chased after zebras, elephants roamed the Savannah, cheetahs sprinted after prey, camels crossed the desert with the sunset as the backdrop. Those were the sights he had dreamed of when he was told he would be dispatched to Africa. But that was not the reality in front of him. This was a land where the sands flew from the desert in thick winds, a dry land of nothing, a land without greenery, with crops that had dried due to the drought, corpses of animals strewn about, and the flies that swarmed around those corpses covering them in black. There was nothing that resembled the animal kingdom he had seen on television. There were dried, yellow tree stumps and grass, Wadis that blew dust, yellow lands where black volcanic rocks lingered, dirty, wild animals that made high-pitched noises while eating the corpses, and a few strands of acacia that stood on the dark red lands. The scenery didnt change even after driving through several hundred kilometers. He was bored to the point that he became depressed. The animal kingdom he had imagined in his mind had long turned into a kingdom of drought and flies. All that remained of the journey where the scenery failed was boredom. Of course, no one wanted the boredom to stop. If the boredom stopped, it meant blood would flow. Everyone preferred boredom over blood. The vast lands continued on the horizon. Black Mamba began to entertain himself. He sliced the flies that swarmed around him with his kukri. With his sight, the flies were enlarged to the size of a fist, and the ones captured in his dimensional sight were as slow as snails. Black Mamba chose to slice off the right then left wings. Despite the small space, the kukri sang through the air. What the hell? Emil, who saw the fierce swings of the large sword, cowered. Im hunting flies. Emils face wrinkled. Shas muchi? At first, Emil didnt realize what Black Mamba was doing until he saw that flies were collecting on the floor of the pickup. Then he realized the disgusting nature of his partners game. Inhuman bastard! He shook his head. He couldnt get used to his partner. Emil was looking at the flies then realized that their wings were cut. He squawked. Black, just kill them! Ok. Flies that had been sliced in half at their waists started to fall from the air. The next afternoon, Team Ratel entered the outer borders of Barelgazal. They were at the channel that was rumored to carry the water of Lake Chad several hundred meters underground. But what was the point of a large underground water channel? The emptiness of the land above only grew worse. It was a succession of dried waterway, rocky hills, and swamps. No animals could be seen. The only living beings that scurried in response to the vehicles loud rumble were the few lizards and unknown snakes. The small reptiles of the Savannah didnt welcome the sudden intruders. They quickly burrowed into the ground or disappeared into the swamps. Black Mamba and Emil suffered the boring drive with their bodies relaxed, but the captain and Ombuti didnt lose a single aspect of their surroundings. Kanem was also a FROLINAT influenced region. They couldnt relax even for a bit. Sergeant Burimer was in the second vehicle, and he didnt let go of the binoculars in his hand. This was the same for Sergeant Morris in the fourth car who kept standing guard with his binoculars. It was only Black Mamba and Emil who were relaxed. He didnt memorize the entire map of the FROLINAT just for show. On the south of the Bodele lowlands, there were over 5000 guerrillas stationed in the Sahel region. The 5000, once released into the vast Sahel were only but a handful of grains on the front line. They wouldnt be able to effectively cover the entirety of the central northern regions of Sahel. The map indicated that the sentries were stationed around Kanem and Tibesti, near the northern ends. The reality was that a few groups of 10 were distributed, stumbling around the Sahel. Team Ratel had disguised themselves to avoid attention. Even if they were the main force, Team Ratel was but a small platoon. They would melt if they were surrounded by a large force. Ombuti kept rearranging their route to avoid the eyes of the security forces. That naturally made most of their travels off-road. When there was a clash, they had to choose between killing the enemy or dying themselves. It was a problem for them if they become captives, too. A captive escaping by biting their tongue was something only possible in movies or novels. One 10-kilogram bullet was enough to end everything. There were no idiots who would drop a captive in the water, leave them in the desert, or leave them unattended. That kind of fantasy was something that could only be found in 007 movies. One could luckily escape. But some problems followed even after the escape. The lands were vast and empty, and it was easy to die from the heat, cold, starvation, or dehydration. Team Ratel were intruders in Chad. To avoid the guerrillas, they had no choice but to lean on Ombutis experience and decisions. Ombuti was a talented guide. He had spent 20 years in the Sahel region driving his camel caravan. He had also personally led his army into battle with the FROLINAT. The chances of attaining a better guide than Ombuti were rare in the Sahel regions. Black Mamba, who had been talking with Emil to chase away the boredom, hardened his face. The air was trembling. He could feel a pulsing ill intention coming in waves. This was an entirely different ill-intention than the one he had felt from the leopard. It pressed down on him as if to compress his entire body. Avez-vous des sousi? Emil asked. Voyant, un avion vibre (You see, a plane is vibrating.). The captain was confused. He couldnt understand what he was saying. Is it the enemy? No, not that. Theres a chill. The air is vibrating. Ombuti, who was listening in, frowned. Pas du tout? (No way?) A while later, something black appeared in the sky. It was a dark fog that rose into the sky against the backdrop of the yellow lands. It had appeared in the west and began to turn into a v-shaped formation. It came closer. Black Mamba tilted his head. What is that? The dark fog was above the ground and not on it. It also didnt move fast. And what was the vibration in the air? Dubai! Ombuti shouted. Dubai? The city Dubai of the Arab Emirates? Ombuti cracked a smile at Emils question. Dubai, in Arabic, meant grasshoppers. Des sauterelles. Sauterelles? Black Mamba repeated. He knew that sauterelles meant grasshoppers because of his extensive French study. The black clouds swarmed over the sky and land in an instant. Brrr A noise, like a planes engines when it left the runway, resounded. He marveled at meeting the flock of grasshoppers that Moses was rumored to have called in to annoy the Egyptians, the grasshoppers that had ruined the lands of Wang Rung, the grasshoppers that were rumored to number over 30 million in South Africa, and the grasshoppers that appeared as a face of horror in horror movies. Country boy Black Mamba went out of his mind. Pssst The dark clouds drew nearer. The buzzing sound turned into one of rain. The black clouds had no end in sight either in width or height. Take cover under the tarp! Morris shouted. Grasshoppers werent poisonous insects, but they bit apart people because of an excess of serotonin. They usually dug into the body through the nose or ears. Black Mamba stuck to his sitting position. It was ridiculous to use a tarp to avoid grasshoppers. He didnt want to miss out on the incredible scene that he would never experience again. All the others jumped out of the pickup, covering themselves with the tarp or crawling under the pickup. Shhh A summer shower rained down on the party: swarms of finger-sized grasshoppers poured down like hail. In a single moment, he was surrounded by a black cloud. Countless insects bumped into him and dug into his clothes. The feeling of the grasshoppers hitting his skin was like a stab with a stick. The sky and earth reverberated with buzzing. His saliva dried and his neck became stiff. He found it hard to open his eyes and breathe. Ant-sized nymphs dug into his nostrils and ears without hesitation. Ugh, what the hell! Black Mamba got nervous and jumped out of the pickup to cover himself beneath a tarp. In a frenzy, he shook off the grasshoppers that had dug into him. The sound of the grasshoppers banging against the tarp was like falling beans. Time, long enough to smoke three cigarettes, passed. The sound of falling beans ceased little by little. Black Mamba crawled out from under the tarp. He stopped to take a look around him. Nobody was watching. They looked ridiculous cowering under the tarps in fear of a grasshopper swarm. He stared at the dark cloud headed towards the east. It was a disaster that hit and disappeared in no time. Following the mosquitoes and flies, the grasshoppers gave him a similarly intense welcome. He came to dislike Chad more and more. The woman brought incense and prayed for help from the gods, and the men set fire to the fields, dug burrows, and wielded sticks to fight the grasshoppers. He recalled this excerpt from a story, a description of locusts, by Paul Buck. Now that hed experienced it, it was a story that didnt make sense. This was a swarm that was immense in width and height. There was nothing that could change it by lighting a fire, digging traps, and swinging sticks. He agreed that it was a calamity that could only be prayed for. Amazing, marvelous! Black Mamba couldnt hide his excitement. He had witnessed an attack of the grasshoppers with his very eyes. His chest was pounding in marvel of nature. If such a swarm covered land as small as Korea, the country was bound to end. Keke, is it your first time seeing a grasshopper? To think Id see the Black Mamba running in fear. Morris, of course, laughed. Damn, he saw. He sighed internally. Its my first time. Its an impressive evil. He had felt the intent before he saw the swarm. He had shivered at the ill intent that he could feel from the grasshoppers. They had passed through quickly because there was nothing to eat in these lands. They can travel 200 kilometers in a single day by using the wind. The place where they had swarmed to must be in ruins by now. Ombuti, who was explaining, began to frown. The lands that had already been broken apart by drought were about to be ended for good. Allah hu Akbar. Ombuti kneeled, raised his arm to the sky, and started to pray. He wished that his fellow countrymen wouldnt suffer any longer. Chapter 23 Wow, its strength is amazing, Black Mamba exclaimed while holding onto a grasshopper that had been left behind. The grasshopper, angered, kicked its legs. It truly was strong. Grasshoppers were insects that lived in the fields and grasses. They were a good source of protein, giving off a sweet taste once roasted in fire. When he was young, he used to gather tens of those grasshoppers in his twine basket. That was what he used to think about grasshoppers. The grasshoppers with those crooked legs of green or yellow were calm insects of about one inch or more. Their protruding eyes were white, which made them all the more endearing. The one in his hand had stripes all over its body. The dark red body with yellow stripes across it was over three inches long. The hind legs were as long as a mantis front scythe. Even the colors, being drab, made it appear angry. The mouth was sharp, making it look fierce. It was the kind of insect that made every conception that he had held about grasshoppers wrong. On the bridge where he used to live, the strongest insects in the hierarchy were the bush crickets and mantises. But it was likely that they would have a hard time fighting against this guy. The mantis jaws were likely to be blown off with a single kick of this grasshoppers legs. I heard that the African grasshoppers rip apart animals, too? At Black Mambas question, Mouris and Ombuti laughed out loud. Thats a lie. Those guys just break up the crops. They dig into your nostrils or enter your body through your ear canal. Its because of the frenzied animals that such a rumor spread. If they were actually carnivorous, all the livestock in the world would have already been wiped out. Black Mamba sighed. It was a relief that they werent carnivorous. Imagine if thousands of such grasshoppers ran into ones body like a colony of ants. It was bound to be a calamity. Black Mamba sighed very often in Africa. I see. Mouris knows grasshoppers very well. Mouris shook his head as if he was getting rid of a bad memory. Im from Morocco, so Ive experienced them several times. Once they show up, the greenery around disappear. The herbivores eat the leaves, and the worse ones eat the stems. The small groups have around 10,000 while the larger swarms are in the millions. A thousand are capable of destroying a years worth of crops and disappearing. Do they appear very often? The Sahel region is where they appear most frequently. Right now its November, so its the season of growth for them. Phew! His surprise came out as a sigh. They dont always go around in groups, do they? Mouris shrugged in an exaggerated motion. If they do, the earth will turn into a wasteland. Usually, they dont form a unit. Their bodies are closer to green in color. They start eating each other when theres a lack of food. Oh, they kill their own? Yes. Hilariously, the only insect the grasshoppers are scared of are other grasshoppers. Their bodies turn brown because of serotonin, which appears from a fear of their own kind. So its an unstable psychopath in a color-changing insect? Its attitude turns worse after it changes color. That means it runs away as quickly as it can once its own kind approaches. Since theyre running away from each other, everyone has to move. In the end, their attack is because of the lack of food, and genocide is the engine. Ooh, Mouris, youre very knowledgeable. This is something Ive heard from an insect expert. Decreasing their influx must be an environmental problem. Wouldnt they eat each other up in the middle of relocating? They do disappear like the wind when they go. Seems like it. Black Mamba showed his respect for Mouris knowledge. The monster trapped between his thumb and forefinger kept kicking its rear legs. It had well-developed strength. Its kicks were so strong that his finger hurt. If the environment was good, the insects living there were similarly calm. Koreas gloydius and magpie vipers were not comparable to black mambas and cobras. Koreas cows, compared to Africas, could be considered weak. The insect in his hand was too fierce to be called a grasshopper. Compared to the grasshoppers he had seen on the bridge, these were predators. Even the bulging black eyes affronted him. Its teeth were like a saw, and it seemed capable of eating metal. When he was young, he had strung together the breasts of grasshoppers living near a well and wore it like a necklace. It was the best side dish he had when he was young. A grasshopper roasted with salt and oil was crunchy and sweet. It used to stave his hunger when he was young. They werent insects that swarmed around and scared humans. Would they be tasty? Black Mamba placed the lone grasshopper into his ration bag. It was so big that eating 10 of them would be enough for a meal. His teammates looked strangely at him as he packed up the grasshopper. There are records of the Romans eating grasshoppers as an appetizer, but in Europe, insects, in general, were avoided as food. Black, what are you going to do with that? At the captains question, he smiled. This tastes good. Oh my god! Youre going to eat a grasshopper? The teammates stared at him, horrified. The way the French viewed the Koreans eating grasshoppers was, in the same manner, the way the Koreans viewed the French eating snails. People in certain regions of France ate grasshoppers, but most of the French thought of grasshoppers as disgusting insects. The same went for all the other insects. Whats their problem? They eat snails and frogs! It was ironic to think that the people who ate snails would find grasshoppers vile! Jang Shin, roast this for me. No problem. Jang Shin lit a fire using the burner. He rinsed the field shovel with water and placed it atop the fire. When the stainless steel of the shovel started to heat, he poured olive oil on it and placed the grasshopper on it. Then, he roasted it with salt and pepper, using his knife to turn it. A sweet smell spread across the rough field. Jang Shin offered one to Sergeant Mike. Sergeant, try it. Put that away! Mike screamed and walked backward. Bastards turned, French, Black Mamba laughed. Mike was American. Since he was always rude, even his denial of the grasshopper grated on his nerves. Oh, protein. Sergeant Mouris snatched the grasshopper, peeled off its wings, and shoved it in his mouth. Whoa, can a Muslim eat grasshoppers? Jang Shin asked in surprise. The Islamic religion had strict rules on the food they could eat. Permitted foods were called Halal and the non-permitted foods were called Haram, dividing them purposefully. Even butchering the animals had a Halal procedure. After laying the animals head towards Mecca, they had to pray, then cut its neck in one blow with a knife so that there was no pain, and then drain the blood. It was a funny rule in a world so hurried, but they had this consideration for animals. The Koran tells us to eat grasshoppers. Prophet Muhammad said that there were two things, alive and dead, that didnt go against the teachings: dead animals livers and spleens, and the alive things were fish and grasshoppers. All insects are Haram, but the grasshoppers are Halal. Mouris spoke with a gravelly voice and dove into the fight for the grasshopper. The mercenaries, who were standing around with curious eyes, were frowning. Ha, to think you cant eat any of the insects but the grasshopper! Seems like Allah has some grudge against them. Black Mamba mumbled as he chewed. Maybe thats how much the middle regions were impacted by the grasshoppers. How does it taste? Jang Shin asked. The ingredients are lacking, but the chef managed to save the taste. At Black Mambas praise, Jang Shin became more confident. Its a shame theres no garlic or frying oil. Its edible, Mouris agreed. A Korean, Chinese, and Moroccan man held a grasshopper party in the middle of the Sahels rough plains. Ombuti, who appeared later, also gladly joined in. Black Mamba glanced at Mike, and Mike, who felt his gaze, winced and turned away. Keke! He giggled. Sergeant Mike was also a ridiculous guy. Having been roasted as much, he should have changed his attitude, but his nature didnt change at all. Mike, an insect is a nutritious and economically advantageous food. While beef provides 219 calories in 100 grams, a grasshopper provides 2000 calories in 100 grams. A human needs 2850 calories per day. This is a guideline provided by the FDA of your country. This means that if you eat 100 grams, you can run around all day carrying a gun. At Black Mambas explanation, Mikes large eyes rolled around. He wanted to refute, but his mind was blank. Ooh, Black is an insect professor. What do you mean economically? Bellman asked. When someone grows livestock, they care about the ECI. When a cow eats 100 kilograms of feed, they gain 8 kilograms; a sheep increases 5 kilograms. This means the eight to five percent of the feed turns into fat. A chicken increases 40 kilograms. Thats the reason why its cheap. How much does an insect produce? Its around 15 kilograms to 45 kilograms. And an insect eats the things a human doesnt, like grass, poo, and rotten carcasses. How economical is that? Black Mamba was stretching his mouth wide to pronounce his words properly. The remains of the grasshopper that had been in his mouth flew everywhere in front of Mikes face. Ugh! Mike shouted and avoided the spit. Sergeant, it seems as if you havent been to the high-class restaurants downtown. Americans eat grasshoppers often, after all. Those who are ignorant are those who dont know grasshoppers, not those who eat them. Quest ce que ca vu (Do you see?)? The moment Black Mamba pronounced the v a grasshopper leg popped out of his mouth and hung on his lip. A grasshopper is a valuable food. Try it. Black Mamba took off the leg and flicked it towards Mike. Mike hurriedly stumbled back. To think a man who liked to see blood would be scared of an insects leg; it was a strange sight. At Black Mambas ill-intended actions, the team members couldnt suppress their laughs. Mikes eyes turned red. He was angry. Black Mamba looked at Mike with frigid eyes. He had been planning to make an example out of Mike if he ever caused a scene. He had learned that those with call names werent judged by martial law even if they beat up someone of a higher rank. The moment Mikes eyes met Black Mambas eyes, his heart skipped a beat. He had recalled the moment he was beaten up on the edge of the Corsican cliff. The red light in Mikes eyes faded in an instant. He stepped away silently. The captain smiled in delight at the sight of Mike making himself scarce. An eagle always won in a fight against a pheasant. Even the captain had a hard time controlling Mike, but it seemed as if there was no need to worry with Black Mamba around. Jang Shin began to gather the grasshoppers with a plastic bag in earnest. Jang Shin was Chinese, and Chinese people sold scorpions and grasshoppers on sticks on the streets. The grasshoppers were fine ingredients for them. Ombuti and Mouris immediately joined in to help. When humans enjoyed the same food, they were bound to become closer. When a woman and man who are dating have different tastes, they are bound to break up, eventually. The Chinese, Tuareg, and Arab men enjoyed the grasshoppers, became closer, and laughed together. The desert sun set, but the night didnt come as fast. However, when night did arrive, it turned dark almost immediately. When the sun lingered on the horizon, Ombuti started to find a place to sleep. The first requirement for such a place was shelter. The pickup traveled the red hills. Wow! Emil and Black Mamba exclaimed. When they crossed the hill, there was a large range of cliffs hanging over a stream. The pickup rumbled up and down towards the stream. Where are we? At the captains question, Ombuti pulled out the map. He pointed towards a blue dot. This is the place where I took my rest in my travels to Paya. Right now we are crossing Barelgazal and entering Borgia; there should be at least 10 kilometers left. You dont plan to go into the village after all, do you? Yes. Theres no reason for us to be exposed to their attention. Is there water around here? Theres a small pond right beyond that large rock if you go in between. Its clean underground water. Oh, theres such a pond here? The captain exclaimed. The topography didnt seem the sort to provide water. Its probably water that has flowed to Lake Chad from Barelgazal. This is important information. Whats this place called? Like most of the northern regions in Chad, there isnt a specific name on the map. But we merchants call it Uldi Hamarl. It means red stream. Uldi Hamarl! The captain placed a red dot on his strategic map and noted it as Uldi Hamarl. Chapter 24 Uldi Hamarl was a place with a high concentration of sedimentary rocks. Huge red rocks were stacked up high, like a tower of books. At the bottom of the valley, rocks towered over the floor like giant mushrooms. Black Mamba couldnt close his mouth at the spectacle that nature had provided. Amazing! He felt very foreign before the dim red rocks that looked as if they had rusted over. It was a scene only imaginable in movies and novels. He felt as if he had fallen onto a different planet. Looks alien, doesnt it? Its a sedimentary rock bed containing hematite oxide. The mushroom rocks are the result of centuries of wind whittling down the base. There is similar terrain at the Ennedy Plateau in the north-east, the Captain, after explaining, held up a fistful of sand. This is Laterite sand. Its dry as of now, but it also indicates that this region had a hot and humid tropical climate. Although, the land itself is encouraging the drought currently. Its surprising. The amazing sight didnt diminish even after he heard the explanation. The hills and valleys turned dark crimson under the setting sun. It was a sight to which he couldnt become immune. Black Mamba couldnt take his eyes off of it. Youre not a photographer, youre a soldier. The captain bumped his shoulder and walked down the hill. Jang Shin laid out two sets of C-rations and collapsed next to him. The cans of beef and fish shook before Black Mambas eyes. Were eating from cans, again? Black Mamba complained and grabbed the can labeled beef. He was tired of rations, but he had not one iota of doubt that the local food would be unhygienic. We have no choice. We need to pick at these cans until we get that raccoon. Fry me some grasshoppers, later. I already did. If you dont hurry up, theyll be rotten by the time we get back to them. Jang Shin tore open the C-ration can immediately. In the can, were three pouches labeled Unit A, Unit B, and Unit C. Most of the French militarys rations were designed like this. Unit A was a meal of mixed beef and vegetables, Unit B had bread and coffee, with sauce, and Unit C had personal items such as a toothbrush, toothpaste, fork, tissue, and matches. It was, in a word, perfect. With Unit A, B, and C, a meal could be sorted out. The main meal, appetizers, snacks, utensils, and hygiene items were all addressed. Perfection wasnt something that should be attached to round glass balls but attached to the futuristic C-rations. Black Mamba always shivered at the human desire for comfort every time he ate the C-ration. It was made to completely satisfy the perfectionist attitude humans had towards their food. It was also why he felt like a predator every time he opened up the C-ration. Most believed the C-ration to be the acronym for Combat Ration. But the C of C-ration was simply an indication of the different pouches. The ration, a word that indicated food, could be divided into three types. The A ration referred to a natural food that wasnt processed, the B ration referred to dry foods that could only be eaten after the food was processed, and the C ration referred to instant foods without the need to cook. For example, the A rations that were kept in the supply shed of Legion Etranger were corn, wheat, barley, rice, potatoes, cabbages, onions, celery, peppers, lettuce, beef, pork, chicken, duck, tuna, sardines, cod, grapes, melons, etc. The B rations were spices, sauces, vegetable oils, prunes, almonds, nuts, coffee, tea, cheese, and sausages. Black Mamba completed his simple C-ration meal, then opened up Unit C to brush his teeth and examine his supplies. The rumor that they wouldnt be able to brush their teeth for over a month, during an operation, was nothing but a rumor. The modern soldier could at least maintain basic hygiene in the middle of a war zone. The captain removed his loose gandoura and reviewed his belongings. Unease kept him from resting. He tied the Famas around his front and pushed the Dragunov to his back. He clipped two hand grenades to his front and double-checked the magazines. He checked his pouch with the spare grenades and magazines and tied the Glock around his thigh. Even with the heavy attachments, nothing clicked around his body. It was the basic body equipment for snipers of Deuxieme Rep. The captain found Black Mamba who was standing watch. He had also taken off his gandoura and had switched into yellow combat attire. He had equipped himself with similar weapons to the captains. Black Mamba. How is it? Not good. Black Mamba was feeling unease more strongly than the captain was. His senses had been mostly sealed, but that didnt mean that his feelings had disappeared. What do you mean? I feel like a guest is coming. Frown lines formed on Pauls forehead. What? Black Mamba didnt reply but, instead, mimicked a gun with a shake of his thumb and forefinger. The lines on Pauls forehead deepened further. How do you know? Instinct. Instinct! Like your senses? Oui, I dont feel settled. Hm! The captain didnt ignore the god snipers words. When a soldier had run around enough battlefields, he developed a sixth sense for danger. He didnt believe the rookies words entirely, but there was nothing wrong with preparing. Mouris, number the water and rations. Yes, sir. We have a fortnights worth of rations and five-to-one of water. Thats plenty. A complicated situation might arise. Everyone has one days worth of rations on themselves, with water. Yes, sir. Ill ration the chocolates out, too. Do that. Burimer, stand watch at two-hour rotations and manage the team members. Yes, sir. Ill have everyone, aside from the watch group, take a sufficient break. The first rule of survival within a harsh climate like the desert or mountains was maintaining strength. They had to maintain their bodys circadian rhythm with sufficient rest and sleep. The highest priority for the captain was maintaining his teams battle capabilities. The captain remained uncomfortable even after he sent Burimer away. Black Mambas words about a visiting guest rang around his mind. The cold desert air exaggerated his unease. His senses remained on alert. Right then, Chartres, who had gone out to search for water with Ombuti, shouted. Water! The team members ran forward with their canteens. Whoa! Everyones mouth fell open. An amazing sight was before them, a small ravine enough for a person to barely fit, and within it, was a clear pond. The pond was around five feet and had no inflow or outflow. It was an oasis pond that stemmed from an underground stream and fell back in. At Barelgazal, such appearing and disappearing ponds appeared frequently. The team hadnt seen a body of water for two days. As soon as Bellman finished testing the safety of the water, they shoved their mouths in the pond. Burimer glared at the pond until his eyes seemed to pop out. Some unknown fishes were swimming around. His uncontrollable desire for fishing started to rise. Smiles appeared on the faces of the team members watching Burimers frustration. Captain, did you give the sergeant a new command? Miguel asked in smiles. The captain smiled bitterly. A fish is better than a raccoon. Burimer broke his magazine and pulled out the spring. He worked at the spring with his knife to make a hook and pulled out a string of nylon from his battle belt. Sergeant Mouris shook his head; he was Burimers partner. Crazy bastard! He still couldnt get used to that crazy person even after years of partnership. Burimer attached the thread to the Dragunovs scale, not caring about his fellow teammates gazes. He tore apart the C-ration, hooked a piece of sausage to the hook, and threw it into the pond. He immediately entered fishing mode. Black Mamba was staring at his teams antics from atop a hill. He wondered whether Burimer could truly catch a fish. Wow! The team members who had been watching exclaimed in surprise. Burimer threw up a fish with his Dragunov rod. Black Mamba slowly smiled. The team members patted Burimers shoulder, praising him to be a fishing man. Ombuti found them pathetic. He wondered if these were the elite agents specially selected at the Deuxieme Rep, Frances best elite force. He frowned and turned around to see the captain, but the captain was also laughing. Ombuti shook his head. The guide was worried about the situation at hand, but the captain welcomed the change to a more relaxed atmosphere. It was the difference between a head and limb. The captain had ignored the higher-ups orders to have Black Mamba focus only on combat and sent him out on patrol. First Lieutenant Paul emphasized teamwork rather than individual strength. He was an experienced veteran. The core of success, in reality, were team tactics, and the foundation of team tactics was cooperation between team members. Rambo was but a movie. It wasnt as if he was ignorant of the elite snipers prowess, but there were always some limitations. The sunset colored the earth with even more red. The wind from the Sahara grew stronger. Black Mamba wrapped his face tightly with the litam and took out goggles. Guards who had spent a long time in the rear of the war zone would know, very well, the bone-deep boredom of standing watch. They had to stare at the same scenery every day, unchanging, for hours on end. There was nothing in the world that could be more boring than that. If they dozed off and got caught by an officer, they were punished. So they couldnt doze. As a result, later on in the watch, their judgment and analytical abilities would weaken and create illusions as their consciousness and unconsciousness merged. That was also why newcomers claimed to have seen ghosts before the rear GP or on coastal posts. And after living this way for years, they became stupider. Black Mamba had spent seven months in a timeless cave, beyond stupidity. He had waited several hours to catch one centipede, spent one year meditating in the dark of Chun Saeng mountain, and survived a snipers training regiment that went beyond common sense. Determined enough, he could stay awake for three days without losing his acuity. Black Mamba didnt glare out at his surroundings. He opened up his senses in a comfortable position. Just because he couldnt see, didnt mean nothing existed. All sorts of movements, by the animals and insects, were sent to his brain. The sound of a beetle digging into the ground, the sound of a fly that was trying to climb atop a female fly, the sound of a lizard crawling on a rock, and the sound of wind cutting through the hill lingered as if they were right in front of him. A strong smell of sweat broke him out of his trance. Da ge, Im here. Jang Shin appeared with a C-ration plastic bag. Inside it were large grasshoppers. Jang Shin shoved the bag towards him. Its the best for snacking. Where did you find the olive oil? I gathered the oil from C-rations and fried it. It was like Jang Shin. He had gathered the oil from his teammates pouches and fried the grasshoppers. The grasshoppers lacked sweetness compared to the ones he had eaten on the bridge. Their shells were also much harder, getting stuck between his teeth. Its good. Jang Shin can be a qualified chef. He had to say good things so that the cook wouldnt be upset. The two men sat on the rock and ate the grasshoppers without talking. Da ge, I want to be your partner. No. Emil will kill you with his machine gun. Phew! Private Emil was Black Mambas devotee and self-proclaimed bodyguard. He had given up on his Epal and taken up the Minimi when he had become Black Mambas partner. It had all been for the sake of providing cover fire. Recently, he had even been learning the Ka-Bar knife from Paul. Even if Emil conceded his position, it was hard for Jang Shin to be his partner. As an explosives specialist, they didnt match up. I know I cant, but I feel like I will live if Im with da ge. Are you scared of death? Im scared. Isnt da ge scared? Black Mamba stared at Jang Shin for a long time. He seemed covered in fear. There were two types of reactions that rookies had before an official fight. One was showing off baseless confidence, and the other one was being scared to the point they couldnt function. Jang Shin was the latter regarding the upcoming battle. Chapter 25 Look, friend, were all going to die, the problem is when. We might die today by a gun or die on our beds in 60 years. Its a life that will end sooner or later. Just think about how youll die instead. I just feel like Ill die in this cursed land. Dont say such unfortunate things. Theres a saying in Korea that spoken words will soon turn into seeds. Words into seeds? Are you saying that there will be seeds every time we talk? In his frustration, Black Mamba slapped his hand against his forehead. Not even his peoples sayings could come across correctly since his culture and Jang Shins culture were so different from each other. Perhaps this was why he missed his motherland. Dont worry. Well be entering without the guerrillas noticing us. Were just extracting The Raccoon. Well avoid battle. Okay! Another person climbed up the hill. What a beautiful sunset! It was the guide, Ombuti. Im tired of seeing the vast wastelands, but the sunset is fine. Try this. Black Mamba offered him some grasshoppers. Oh, those are okay. Ombuti chewed on the grasshopper without hesitation. Its a good source of protein. Better than beef. At Black Mambas words, Ombuti grabbed another grasshopper. Ho, its good. The Koran said to eat grasshoppers. But it seems like your team doesnt welcome the grasshopper. Black Mamba stared into the strong and prideful eyes of the nobleman. His temper was telling by the gleam of his eyes. Youre not young. Arent you tired? Im an Imoharen. As expected, a strong response came back. How did you become a guide? Our tasks are dangerous, Jang Shin asked. No problem. Im also a person who receives his salary from France. I need to work for my food. Youre right. Food is important. Black Mamba nodded his head. Money for food was important. It was these salarymen who made the world run. Those who did not earn money were considered a waste of space. And when one became a waste of space, they werent treated like humans. Why are you here instead of taking a break? At Black Mambas question, Ombuti started to unravel a long story. I was born in Nigers Kel Ayr. Its a small village on the outskirts of the Tenere desert. I lost my parents at the age of ten. The Imran who took care of livestock took me in. I wandered the lands searching for grasslands with my stepfather, while herding goats, sheep, and donkeys. I liked looking at sunsets that lingered on the horizon, just like today. All I knew was setting up tents, breaking up firewood, securing the goats, and milking them. My nomad life ended at the age of 19. A strong drought dried all the grass, killed all the livestock, and killed even humans. I started my business after leaving my hometown, succeeded, married, and had a daughter. My daughter grew beautifully up until the age of 13. Misfortune attacked abruptly. Ombuti talked about his past as though he was taken back to those times. Black Mamba was rather lacking in the language department. He couldnt understand even half of what Ombuti was saying in French, and he was curious as to why Ombuti had settled with them. Wait, what is that? Black Mamba interrupted Ombutis speech. A small thing floating on the horizon was captured in his sight. It moved across the reddish-brown sky. It was captured in his sight easily because it moved with the horizon as its background. Even in their tactics lessons, they were taught to avoid standing on the horizon. Black Mamba could recognize a moving person at about 4 kilometers with his naked eye. If he could barely discern the object, that meant it was at a greater distance. He lifted his binoculars to his eyes and zoomed in. On the horizon, there were people with guns slung across their backs. They were around 15 kilometers away. What stupid guests. Black Mamba handed the binoculars to Jang Shin. F*ck, it hasnt even been two days! Jang Shin complained with a gravelly voice. Ombuti. We have guests. We will have to hear the rest of your story later. Ombuti looked at Black Mamba with a strange look. Damn it, how did they get on our tails when Ive purposely selected a safe route? But how can he even see them with his naked eye? Black Mamba slid down the slope after passing the binoculars to Jang Shin. He had to report to the captain and get ready to greet the guests. Theyre approaching in 15 kilometers? Oui! The captain found it hard to believe. The zebra-patterned binoculars had the limit of 10 times their sight. In theory, that meant they could see as far as 10 kilometers ahead of their point. If it was 15 kilometers, it meant that Black Mamba could see 1.5-kilometers farther with his naked eye. At least, that was in theory. Binoculars had a small range, and the range became smaller the farther the object was. Unless they were fixed on a certain point, it was impossible to grasp a moving object 15 kilometers away. On top of that, it was near sunset. Could he possibly see something 15 kilometers ahead with the sun glaring into his face? It was impossible. But he couldnt ignore the report of an elite, no, god sniper. And did you confirm that with your instincts? No. With my eyes. The captain stared at Black Mambas unwavering gaze then turned to Burimer. I believe Black Mamba, Burimer said before being asked. Black Mambas followers, here or there. The captain smiled wryly and continued his orders. Miguel, change positions with Jang Shin. Chartres, start preparing the mortar for back up with Jang Shin. Burimer, get all the snipers to their points. Everyone is going into hiding and avoiding battle unless contact is initiated. The captain wished to avoid battle when possible. Their target was The Raccoon. Their objective wasnt to destroy guerrillas, but if they couldnt avoid it, they would have to kill first. Black Mamba! Oui! Show me your skills. The Uldi Hamarl that had been full of jokes and laughter was suddenly filled with bloodlust. There wasnt a single sound even with 11 people running about. Ombuti found that his preconceptions were wrong. People who knew how to rest properly and move when asked were the true warriors. Black, the enemy isnt human. The enemy is but an enemy. Burimer patted Black Mambas shoulder. Even if he was the most gifted fighter, this was his first battle with orders to kill. He was worried. Ill work for my pay, so dont worry. Burimer relaxed at Black Mambas sharp smile. The sniper teamthe captain and Burimer, Mike and Mark, Black Mamba and Emilclimbed the hill of Uldi Hamarl. The supporting cover firing squadChartres and Jang Shin, Mouris and Miguel, and the emergency doctor, Bellmanwent towards the rear. Mon Dieu? (What the hell?) The captain rubbed his eyes. Black Mamba, who had been climbing the hill right before his eyes, disappeared. Whether he had sunk into the ground or flown into the sky, he was gone. All that he could see was Private Emils back, shouldering the Minimi, climbing the hill. Burimer! Lieutenant Burimer turned around towards the captain and nodded. Even a veteran sniper such as the captain would have been surprised. Logic doesnt work on Black. Youll be even more surprised once the battle actually starts. Black Mambas hiding skills that melted him into his surroundings were an actual nightmare. It was the height of talent that even a veteran sniper with 10 years of experience wouldnt even dream of having. Miguel, have you confirmed? Oui! Miguel, who had been observing the surroundings, passed the binoculars. Its at 11 oclock. Its over two platoons in number, with a BTR. Putain! The captain swore as he confirmed their presence. Black Mambas words had been correct. A group of guerrillas filled his binoculars sight. Damn, theyre around four kilometers, now. Theyve moved quickly on their BTRs and bikes. Wheres Black Mamba? We dont know. At Burimers answer, the captain frowned. You dont know? Yes, no one can find Black. Wouldnt he be near his partner? Its no use. You wouldnt know even if hes standing right in front of you. Hm, how could that be! Has everyone been stationed at their points? Yes. Then tell them to relax. They might change directions. The captain spoke into his headset. Black Mamba, where are you? Im at 11:15 from your position, 15 meters ahead. Paul searched with wide eyes, but small and large boulders were all he could see. From the front, they were concealed but were open in the back. All he could see was the back of Emils head where he was readying his machine gun. Paul shook his head. I cant believe it. A call name is a call name, is that it? Unfortunately, against Pauls wishes, the armed guerrillas with two BTR-152s didnt change their direction; they approached Uldi Hamarl. A small regiment with two BTRs? Impossible. Weve really been caught resting on our tails. The captain called out this observation. The guerrillas advanced without first sending a watch squad. Some were on BTRs and the others were on bikes. They approached without order or formation, he couldnt tell how they were armed. They had increased their mobility just as he had worried they would. The captain thought their trail had been picked up by the guerrillas sentries, but the truth was that the Musulda, Lieutenant Colonel Mustas sentry platoon, were moving around looking for a place to rest. They also knew that there was clean water at Uldi Hamarl. The coincidental meeting created an unfortunate event between the guerrillas and Team Ratel. Many wars had begun unintentionally, and many battles left unintentional results throughout history! Black Mamba observed the approaching guerrilla platoon with a cold eye. It was a distance not in the range of normal human sight, but he could discern their weapons and appearance down to the very emblem on their clothes. He found his sight training rewarding, once more. More than a dozen of them were armed with AK47s and Panzerfausts, and the other ten were on five bikes, two on each, and armed with RPG7s. The rest were on top of the BTRs. The ones on the bikes were adults with faces covered in litams, and there were many young faces on top of the BTR-152. Not many of them were in proper uniforms. Some had different kinds of colored clothes, and if they hadnt been carrying weapons, they could have been mistaken for refugees. The AK47 had a simple design, with only eight parts to it. It could be disassembled anywhere on top of a plastic bag or cloth. The only maintenance needed was wiping the chamber and gas cylinder with an oilcloth. Even the newest of newbies could disassemble it, clean it, and reassemble it, but there was no problem leaving it dirty. It still worked even with gunpowder and dust sticking to the cylinder. Over 100 million AK47s and its variations were released to the world. That was more than the total number of soldiers all over the world. Distribution of the cheap AK47 was focused on third-world countries, creating more guerrillas and more young soldiers. If the AK47 had been more elaborate, harder to handle, and weak inside, there would be fewer young soldiers. Colonel Musta, one of Habibs subordinates, was called Kanma (named for a magical African voodoo beast that causes calamity and death) in the Kanem and Tibesti regions. Musta was in charge of gathering recruits for the FROLINAT. He usually attacked the locals in the Sahel regions and captured boys over 10 years old to be soldiers. He was known to be a psychopath who boiled three-year-olds for his meals. He attacked not only Chad but villages in other African countries with unstable regimes. His remorseless actions against other tribes were because of tribal loyalty instead of his nationality. The biggest reason for his attacks was recruitment. He replenished his number of soldiers with kidnapped boys and massacred the other villagers to leave no witnesses. There were 560 FAP-trained soldiers per regiment that he led under Habibs orders. Currently, 75 percent of their forces were trained by the North Korean governments officials at the Faya training center. He roamed around Kanems borders with the remaining 147 subordinates. He had sent out four groups of search forces, over three days, between empty lands and plains but had not seen hide nor shadow of the French special forces. Musta decided to hold camp at the red sandstone valley that the caravans called Uldi Hamarl. He sent out three contacts to the rest of his groups and led the bike towards the red valley. Chapter 26 He hadnt felt good for the past few days because of Colonel Ahmud. Colonel Ahmud was his superior, his rival, and led the Habib army, but the Musta army was an individual unit because of Habibs strategy of causing rivalry. He was ordered to do one thing: return the French special forces back into Allahs arms. Ahmud killed 50 of Makumbos personal guards and managed to corner Makumbo in the Chinka Oasis region. As long as he led a separate army, the two were going to be rivals fighting over their achievements. He had searched the desert for three days like a dog in heat, only to waste his gas. Even asking the locals didnt bring any results. There werent enough people, and he had to wait another month for his main forces to finish their training. He had requested additional backup, but Ahmud simply ignored him. F*cking bastard! Although, if he was in Ahmuds position, he wouldnt have given additional soldiers either. Musta pulled on the bikes throttle harshly. The BTR-152 could carry 17 people. The morning temperature in the Sahel was around 30 degrees, and the hot winds from the Sahara desert made the temperature much hotter. The BTR-152 had a cooling system attached, but, at midday, the insides of the tank were bound to turn into a steamer, and when one entered the cabin, it was like being a chicken in an oven. His subordinates attached themselves to the car near the outer notch and cupola like leeches, but Musta pretended as if he didnt see them. Damn, I should have sent out the scouts first. By the time he reached the red valley, he felt the chill born out of experience from several battles. The red valley that was 700 meters ahead had several large rocks lying and rocky walls. This also meant there were plenty of spaces for the enemy to hide. Musta had waged battled around the desert and the Sahel region for the past 20 years. His survival instincts were good, but he had guarded himself too late. The captains order came through their headset: Black Mamba, begin. First, incapacitate the leader and the vehicles. The BTR-152 has machine guns. Its side and gears are removable with the Dragunov. If you think it impossible, have Chartres blow it up with his RPG. Supporting fire, remain on standby. Yes, sir! Black Mamba, the guerrillas all drink marijuana like tea before engaging. They rush forward like madmen. Dont hesitate because its a child. Go. Yes, sir! Black Mamba licked a finger to gauge the direction and speed of the wind. He could do it with his senses, but this was for the sake of confirmation. Direction is towards 12 oclock, speed at 4 meters per second, distance at 570 meters. It only took 0.5 seconds to dissect the surroundings. The leaders head was already filling his scope, just against the cross. His thumb hooked around the trigger with a constant force and soon the gunpowder that hit the back of the rifle kicked against the bullet. The 7.62-millimeter bullet, which was kicked in its rear, spun around the barrel and threw itself out of the rifle. Clang The 9.5-gram bullet hit the front of Mustas skull at 2.7 times the speed of sound. The human skull was too weak to withstand 3600 joules of force. Ting With the sound of the empty cartridge case dropping to the ground, the bullet came into contact with the target. His scope captured the sight of the wide-eyed guerrillas leader exploding. Mustas bike abandoned its owner and landed a few meters out on a hill of sand with its rear wheels spinning futilely in the air. If Colonel Philip had seen Mustas last moments, he would have kicked up a fuss about how benevolent his death was. Musta had become famous as the Sahels Kanma, and he had gone to Allahs side with a single bullet from Black Mamba who had come from afar. No one could guess fate. Black Mamba felt dj-vu. When heavy rain fell in his hometown, he had always picked the water-logged watermelons to throw away. The watermelons that were thrown randomly about the front yard exploded. Red juice seeped out and splattered into the air, just like the blood he saw through his scope. This was his first murder with a clear mind. He understood the opponents death with great clarity. The mental shock depicted in novels was a lie. As expected, the authors exaggerated. People said that newbies who first experienced war had obsessive thoughts about blood and suffered from blackouts. They, regardless of western or Asian origin, exaggerated. He felt fine. Black Mamba, after a single moment of hesitation, began a series of shots. Sniper Splat It was the soldier on the bike who had been right next to Musta. Before his warning even ended, his face exploded. Black Mambas wired muscles, detailed and strong, stopped the rebound. The Dragunovs barrel didnt even move from its place. Bang Bang Bang The lag time between each shot was less than a second. Before a dead body hit the ground, another was sacrificed with blood flowing from his head and chest. Mustas forces, which had been approaching without a barrier or guard, fell like dominoes. Started by Black Mamba, the snipers gunfire began. Emil and Miguels Minimis poured bullets like hail. But the FRONLINAT resisted strongly. The heavy machine gun on top of the vehicle gunned bullets over their heads like crazy. The guerrillas who had been sitting on top of the armored vehicle scattered like ants in search of cover. After finding a suitable hiding place, they retaliated. Unlike what the captain had said, no one fueled by drugs charged ahead. They had responded with a quick reaction, but Mustas death had affected them. This organization didnt fight back in a unified manner. Some charged ahead, and some were firing in the wrong direction. The power of the SGM 7.62-millimeter heavy machine gun mounted on top of the BTR was daunting. Rocks that had been used for concealment shattered and pieces scattered around the ground. Team Ratels offensive was pushed back momentarily. The guerrillas now had cover from the machine gun and began an organized attack. Black Mamba, grab a machine gun. Roger. Black Mamba, who received the communication from Burimer, berated himself. He had forgotten the captains orders to first shoot down the armored vehicle. He replaced the 20-bullet magazine with a 10-bullet magazine. The 7.62-millimeter round casings used in the Dragunov were 51 millimeters long and had a kinetic energy of 3600 joules. The 10 replacement bullets were heated uranium ironclads. The casing length was increased by 4 millimeters and the bullets weight increased by 30 percent. This special bullet had been modified by the DGSE Technology Department for Black Mamba. The 55-millimeter casing length was the marginal standard that could be accepted by the Dragunov. The kinetic energy of the bullet was proportional to the weight and squared to the speed. The converted armor shells had the power of 12,000 joules. How much power is 12,000 joules of kinetic energy? The effective range of an assault rifle was measured by the distance that penetrated the US Armys M1 helmet. The thickness of an M1 helmet was 1.2 millimeters. The effective range of the Famas, which has a kinetic energy of 1700 joules, was 300 meters. Experiments have shown that the bullet force for drilling through 1.2-millimeter helmets was 450 joules. Calculations had shown that for something to go through a 500-meter BTR-152s 6-millimeter combined glove it required energy two-and-a-half times the distance and two times the thickness of the shell, totaling 21,250 joules. The heavy machine gunner on the top of the cupola of the BTR-152 was protected by a 6-millimeter iron plate. They concluded that it could not be penetrated by heated uranium iron shells. The target was a 115-millimeter, square-shaped surface protected by bulletproof glass. That was enough. Black Mamba positioned the machine gun, which was 520 meters away from its target, and pulled on the trigger without hesitation. Baang A powerful shot rang out. The power of 12000 joules penetrated the BTR gunners bulletproof glass. The bullet, which had tilted around 15 degrees from the impact, drilled into the gunners forehead. Half of the gunners forehead disappeared. The cupolas heavy machine gun, which had been spewing out bullets valiantly, halted. A BTR gunner right behind him searched for the snipers position rapidly. Black Mamba aimed carefully at his moving target at around 500 meters. Because the gunner kept turning his head, marking him became more difficult. This time he tried to use his spatial reception ability. Ba bang It was a double-tap shot. The first hit the iron plate. The sound of the bullet coming into contact with the glass was heard across the field, and the surprised machine gunner raised his head. That was the moment when the second bullet shattered the bulletproof glass, entering with a tilted degree, to haphazardly land itself on the gunners neck. He was going to die, that wasnt going to change, but this machine gunner died more violently. The bullet had slowed enough to the point that the gunners neck had been blown off halfway as if done by a beginner executioner. Blood exploded from his veins like a fountain, filled the cupola, and dripped onto the floor. Jang Shin, who had been observing the battlefield through an extended scope, turned pale. Without realizing it, he had bent to the ground and began vomiting. The captain, who had also been observing, nearly shouted in jubilation. That sniping would not have been possible had it not been for the god sniper. When the two machine guns fell silent, Team Ratels sniper team began its fierce offensive once more. The machine gunner had died, but the vehicle didnt stop moving. The advancing armored vehicle was a perfect obstacle for concealment. The guerrillas, despite falling to the ground as a result of Black Mambas spatial ability, kept closing the distance using the vehicle as an obstacle. Chartres, get rid of that can. Theres not enough range! Chartres shouted in reply to the captains order. The RPG had been made by the Soviet Union and was a portable grenade launcher used during World War II. It had the power to pierce through 350 millimeters of plating, but the moving target range was only 300 meters. F*cking hell, Black, get rid of it. Got it. Clang Clang Black Mamba blew up the tire of the vehicle to make it stop. The Soviets were truly idiots. The vehicle with its busted tires continued moving and blew up its engine. Black smoke fumed out of the back like clouds. Those brainless idiots! Black Mambas frown deepened. He took out the 20 rounds and exchanged them for 55-millimeter heated uranium bullets. Bam Bam A beastly gunshot rang out. The uranium bullet Black Mamba had shot squeezed through the 40-millimeter space in the rear of the armored vehicle. The strong bullet pierced through the 3-millimeter iron plate and shattered the BTRs weakest points: the fuel carrier and the nozzle of the fuel provider. It was a shot of which only Black Mamba was capable. The two vehicles that had been moving forward stopped immediately. The best feature of a heated uranium bullet was that it could pierce through nearly everything. At the same time, it also gave off high heat. Black smoke poured out of the right side of the vehicles rear. Bang Bang The fuel tank of the vehicle blew up at the same time. The captains mouth hung open. A fly flew into his mouth, but he didnt even feel it. Even if the BTR-152 was poorly constructed, it was still an armored vehicle. Black Mamba had stopped it by blowing up the tires and precisely targeting the vehicles gas tank revealed through the rear gap. This also meant that he had targeted the 40-millimeter weakest point of the BTR-152. Explosive, continuous rounds with bone-chilling precision were the strengths of the god sniper, call name Black Mamba. Guerrillas who had rushed for cover behind the armored car jumped out like grasshoppers. Clang Clang The sound was unusual for a Dragunov. This was Black Mambas double-tapped firing. The strong muscles prevented the scope from moving side to side or up or down. The 10 or so guerrillas who had hopped out from behind the vehicle dropped down in an instant. After the lasting ring of Black Mambas shots stopped, silence descended on the battlefield. It was a battle that had begun in coincidence and ended in lightning. The 43 guerrillas who had ridden forth in the vehicle were all dead. It had only been 10 minutes since Black Mamba began firing. Mustas forces had been attacked and hadnt even shot a good round. This was the true nature of god sniper Black Mamba. The gunshots and machine guns that had been rumbling through the earth stopped. The gunsmoke that had been falling like a fog, the sounds of the injured, a strong smell of blood, and the smell of iron and gunpowder combined made the field seem like the aftermath of Armageddon. Whirl The sandstorms of the Sahara cried as if it was a farewell song. The battlefield was covered in the remains of broken vehicles and bikes, chaotic with the addition of dead bodies. Most of the corpses that had received Black Mambas attacks had their heads blown off. Others were caught in the machine guns dome, and it was hard to recognize their features. The captain and the team members confirmed their deaths but fell silent rather than celebrating. Humans are at a loss for words when faced with an inexplicable scene. When the range exceeded 500 meters, even a first-ranked sniper had to take several tens of seconds before firing once more. This did not apply to Black Mamba. Black Mamba sent someone to Allah every second. Most of the guerrillas had died from being hit by Black Mambas continuous rounds. All of his team members were at a loss for words. The sight was quite different from the sound of what they had heard. Sounds passed through several channels, but sight reported directly to the brain. A picture is worth a hundred words was a saying that did not come out of nowhere. Chapter 27 The god-level sniper, Black Mamba, had appeared on the Sahel. He stared, expressionless, at the devastating battlefield with the Dragunov slung over his shoulder. The captain stared at Black Mamba with a blank expression as did the others. Sergeant Paul had been selected as Team Ratels leader from Camp Djiboutis 13th regiment of Legion Etranger. He had heard about Black Mamba from his colonel and Pief several times but had always doubted their stories. Hes not human! He shook his head slowly. Even Colonel Philip and Captain Pief had a hard time understanding Black Mambas abilities. His teammates faces had gone slack and they started to smile. They were instructed to kill or be killed; death was merely passing scenery. Haphazard democracy was nothing but indulgence. They could have compassion for the dead enemy, but they could not feel guilt. They could be the heroes or beasts, but no mercenary wished to be a coward. Black Mamba, covered in blood, was their comrade and the pride of their team. Being with Black Mamba meant that they had a spare lifeline. Captain! Burimer called for Paul. This guy is Musta. Burimer rolled the body and lay it straight. Red fluid poured out of his head that had exploded in half. The bastard whos called the Kanma of the Sahel? Yes. Black Mamba had killed him rather brutally, but he is definitely Musta. Burimer pointed at the plate on his shoulder with his gun barrel. Hes the Lieutenant Colonel. It was time for the captain to be satisfied with the unexpected outcome. Ombuti checked his body and started to tremble. Oh, Allah! This is the sergeant of the Habib army, Musta. This bastard raped my daughter and killed my family. Ombutis tears streamed down his face as he kicked the body in a crazed rage. Look, Allah does not forgive those who sinned, those who are swine. He had sent Gods warrior to bestow judgment upon you. Ombuti, who had been wailing, turned and kneeled before Black Mamba. Thank you. A desert warrior does not forgive their grudges but also doesnt forgive their debts. I will return this debt. I only killed him because he was our enemy. There is no reason for you to talk about debt. Black Mamba cut off Ombutis words rather harshly. No. I am indeed in your debt. I only have one request. Say it. With your permission, I want to cut off his head. He does not deserve reincarnation. Black Mamba remembered his old self where he had swung the ax to cleave the white priests neck. How unjust and angered was he back then! Fine. Do what you want. Thank you. Ombuti took out his shamshir and swung down on Mustas neck. He was unable to cut off the head in one blow and had to swing down several times. It was an act that damaged the corpse, but no one attempted to stop Ombuti. Ha, its not a great sight, but since someone with a call name allowed it, I cant even stop him. I suppose a Kanma isnt enough to go against the Black Mamba. The captain exclaimed as if he was lamenting. Ombuti placed Mustas head on top of the red rock and threw gasoline on it to burn it. With that, Musta was doomed to rot in hell for eternity. Ombuti sat down on the sand and cried and choked. He had finally sent one of his enemies to hell. He had been hell-bent on revenge ever since he lost his wife and daughter to the FROLINAT and had thrown his life and wealth into the fight. The enemy was strong, but his strength had not been strong enough. He became the symbol of revenge. He swore to sacrifice his soul for the sake of revenge, but his enemy was too strong, and the path to revenge was too long. Allah had sent Gods warrior when he was on the brink of giving up. Ombuti looked at the Asian warrior who was standing as firm as an iron tower. Black Mamba, on their first meeting, had first shot a bullet at him when he was hiding underground. The same person had given him his revenge. The remaining hostility towards him disappeared like the morning dew. After finishing his ritual, Ombuti placed a kiss on the back of Black Mambas hand and shouted towards the sky. Allah hu akbarhl (Allah is amazing), Allah hu akbarhl. My wakil! The gratitude of the Immoharen of the Tuareg tribe was immense. Ombuti swore to give what he had, including his life, to Black Mamba. In the Islamic world, everyone was equal. A traditional Muslim didnt lower their heads or kneel towards those in power or even to those they respected. Only Allah was superior, and all humans were equal. Even the prophet Muhammad was a human as equal as they were. The conflict between their religion and the Christian religion was bound to happen. From the Islamic view, Jesus was a prophet who could be respected but not held up as a spiritual being. Ombuti, instead of calling Black Mamba a higher being, decided to call him Wakil (owner). Why is this old man attacking me? Has he gone mad? Black Mamba, who didnt know a single thing, stared at Ombuti helplessly. Sergeant Mark and private Emil dragged over the captured and injured captives. Theyre the drivers of the armored vehicle. The captives conditions were rather good. Most of them had injuries on their left femurs. There were wrinkles in their dark, burnt faces. They looked well over their forties. Was there anyone else in the vehicles cabin? the captain asked Mark. No. They wouldnt have wanted to become fried eggs in that can, after all. Guerrillas were also human. When the midday temperature went over 30 degrees Celsius, the inside of the vehicle heated up to over 40 degrees. It was impossible to remain inside. Surprisingly, the old Arab driver was calm. He was expressionless, and his eyes didnt waver. Mike pressed down on the old Arabs neck to get him to kneel. He pushed even more strength into his injured right leg to resist kneeling. This damned bastard! Mike kicked the old guerrillas right shin. Agh, you swine! The old guerrilla fell to the ground without resisting and released an ear-splitting shout. Mike, who was surprised by the shout, in turn, glanced at Black Mamba. He hadnt forgotten the threatening warning about how his arms and legs would be broken if he used violence recklessly. He sighed in relief. Black Mambas eyes were still fixed on the devastation of the battlefield. The captive glared at Mike. His eyes were filled with fury, not fear. Dalkis al quadiruh, kunta jabanan! (Dirty heretics, cowardly bastard!) What the hell is this guy saying? Im going to rip out your eyeballs. Mike finally exploded and cracked his Famas hard on the captives skull. There was a sound, and the captives skull broke. Mike, calm down. We need to get information out of him. While trying to stop him, Burimers gazed harshly at Mike. Mike was a talented guy but with the wrong personality. He had been unable to get rid of his cruel habits even after being punished violently by Black Mamba. He was not trustworthy because he couldnt overcome his madness. Where is Black Mamba? Chartres looked for him. The captain pointed with his chin to the cliff about 50 meters from the battlefield. Chartres followed the direction in which the captain pointed. Black Mamba was sitting at the edge of the cliff with his head between his legs. His shoulders were shaking. The hero of Deuxieme Rep is crying like a girl. The captain was ridiculing him, but his heart was sympathetic. He was monstrous but yet a man barely over 20. Blood had flown like a creek in his first battle, and brain matter had poured out from most of his shots. If he had not been shaken, he would have been mistaken as a devil in a mans skin. No, he had already awakened as a devil on the battlefield. Agh, fcking sht, what the hell! Father, is it my turn to follow you? Black Mamba cried as if to bleed out his vocal cords. His pain wasnt from killing all those people. It came from the torture that he had not become the man his father had expected him to become with the name that he was given at birth. Instead, he had become a grim reaper. Hae Young, Hae Young! It was torturous. His life had drifted far from normal. Regrets poked around his head, and the reality that he couldnt reach for Hae Young with his bloodstained hands made him despair even more. Uwa Father, Im sorry! The sorrowful cries of a Paranthropus rang across the Uldi Hamarl. The captain and the team members stared at Black Mamba in a daze. No one understood Korean, but the cries of sorrow made their hearts shake. The captain recalled his first kill. The target had been an officer of the Algerian broadcasting station. The two had run into each other coincidentally and had fought with their knives and pistols. He had vomited for the entire week after walking out of the exchange covered in blood. He figured that the name Black Mamba was calling out had to be his mothers name or his lovers name. On the one hand, he was relieved. The guy was also human. He wasnt going to succumb to the exhilaration of killing. Hes a rookie, despite how he acts. Mike mocked him and smiled. Mike, watch your words. Black is our hero, Burimer said in anger. The team members didnt look pleased, either. Mike, gather the team and clean up the battlefield. The captain stepped forward to get Mike out of the way. Chartres and Emil headed towards Black Mamba. The captain stopped them with a shake of his head. Leave him. It is one of the many obstacles in the path to becoming a man and a mercenary. Chartres nodded. The captain was right. A comrade who is incapable of killing the enemy on the battlefield was worse than the enemy. It was a presence that was useless as an ally. Such a person was bound to weaken everyones resolve and break up their teamwork. Since he had chosen to become a mercenary, he had to be a mercenary. This was the time in which a rookie stood over his pain and shock to become a true warrior. The two, who understood the captains intentions, returned. Their eyes, which had momentarily been stolen by Black Mamba, returned to the captive. The old guerrilla acted as if he had already forfeited his life. Ombuti began to translate Burimers questions. Are any of your comrades around? I have no reason to answer you. Ha! At the captives answer, Burimer laughed. Dirty bastard, looks like youve done dirty work as long as youve been alive. The captive revealed his black teeth and laughed at Burimer. Ha, you dirty heretics, dont talk with your foul mouth on the historic lands of Allah. Do you know the taste of raping a young girl? How would you know the feeling of shoving your sex into a small hole? Burimer, who heard the translation, flew into anger. Ombuti, did you translate this right? To the word. Burimer pulled on his Beretta slider and aimed for the captives head. Ombuti immediately pressed down on Burimers arm. Sst Dust rose between the captives legs. Calm down. Hes trying to make you angry so that he wont have to be tortured. Hes scared of being tortured. Leave the rest to me. Damn! Thanks. Sergeant Burimer, feeling rather awkward after hearing Ombutis words, fell back. Ugh, those tempers. The captain had been watching and clicked his tongue. Ombuti glared at the old guerrilla. His gums, where he was missing his front three teeth, were loose. When Ombutis wife had been raped, she had smashed a rock into Habibs face. This persons front teeth could have fallen out the same way while raping a woman. As Sergeant Burimer had said, this person must have done dirty deeds all his life. Ombuto pulled out his knife from his waistband and sliced off the captives thumb without hesitation. Arrrgh! The captives shout tore through the dark. Ombuti stopped the blood flow and let him be. The captives body shook in pain and his shouts decreased. Ombuti spoke to him coldly. This is but a demonstration. From now on, I will take away your body parts one by one. The ripped off parts will be burned and the ashes scattered, but, if you cooperate, I will bury you whole. You are Allahs servant, and you dare to side with the whites to commit sins like those heretics! The guerrilla shot back, his face pale. In the Islamic religion, the body was a place that the soul would return to. When burned, the soul was lost and wandered without its house, and the soul without a house was bound to roam hell. Moreover, when the body was ripped apart and burned, it was irreparable even with Allahs grace. I will return exactly what you have done. I will burn your head and shred your body for the hyenas to feed on. Chapter 28 Fine. Just leave my body intact. The prisoner quelled his resistance. Ombuti was disgusted by the dual attitude of the captive. A man who borrowed the name of Allah to do all sorts of evil things was attempting to cross the threshold of heaven after reincarnation. Lets do this again. Burimer tilted his head. The captives attitude had changed suddenly, and Ombuti had said only a few words. He wasnt someone whose attitude would change by a cut finger. With their cultural differences, the situation only became tenser. What do you want to ask? The prisoner instead hurried him. Where did you find us? What are you saying? This is our camp. We were gathering ourselves. The old guerrilla made a surprised face. What? Burimer listened to Ombutis translation and found the situation ironic. They had not followed their trail or come to attack. It was a coincidence that had led to their camps overlapping. How many of you are there? 147 in all. We have four units. My friends will come to kill you all. The prisoner responded very sincerely. There was one frightening piece of information in the prisoners reply: the Habib army was roaming around northern Chads middle regions to track down the French special forces. Burimers mind blanked out. How did the FROLINAT gain information about Team Ratel not on the level of a spys testimony but as factual information? This was a serious problem. There wasnt much that a mere soldier knew. Burimer nodded towards Ombuti. Ombuti placed his Berettas barrel on the back of the captives head and pulled the trigger. Bang The sound of a baseball bats impact on a mattress resounded. Black Mambas sensitive ears captured that sound, and the sight of the captive falling to the ground was captured in his eyes like a slow-motion video. Emil and Jang Shin carried the old guerrillas body towards a pit and threw it in. Other teammates were also carrying the other guerrillas bodies towards the pit. Nothing resembled human dignity. It was simply throwing out trash. Half of the corpses were small children. They were around the age that he had been when he had run from his uncles house. They were children who were forced to pick up a gun. The 43 dead guerrillas were 43 peoples worth of stories to tell. What was their belief? What did they die for? Did their team have the authority to kill them? There was only one answer. They had killed to live. Whether it was animals or plants, they all had instincts to become the winner of the survival of the fittest. Most humans were controlled by the desires and greed of others. There were times when individual greed became nothing in the face of a groups greed. That was the fate of the dead guerrillas. If he wished to stop being a mercenary, all he would need to do is terminate his contract. He would have monetary losses and a smear on his honor, but, if there was a better opportunity out there, it wasnt an impossible idea. But there wasnt one for them. They were les miserables who couldnt escape the wheel of death. He had wished to live like a decent human being but had become a murderer. The sad memories of his youth flooded back to him. His life had been controlled by others, and the days had passed filled with starvation and violence. The violence that made him crave for freedom was the evilest form of violence. The children couldnt have wanted to take up the rifle for a military leader they didnt know. They werent driven by religious beliefs to run towards the French special forces. The children had lived in domes made of cow dung and mud-filled walls. These children were forced to go to hell with guns in their hands. The children werent his countrymen nor his ethnicity, but hatred towards such fundamental evil rose in his chest. The smell of gunpowder and blood stuck in his nose. The dense smell woke up the beast inside of him. The words kill, rip, and destroy echoed in his head. The blood started to smell sweet. He was reminded of the small room in the house he had stayed at. He longed for Hae Youngs small and plump lips. He was desperate for her body that had electrified him. The instinct for murder and lust both reared its ugly head. His head felt like it was going to explode. The drums ringing in his head started to get louder. He saw red. This was the result of Parathropuss cruel attack that drove itself into his subconscious. Go! However strong your body gets if your mind gets weak, what use will it be? His teachers words rang in his head. He snapped back to his senses. Disgusting. The sweet smell of blood suddenly became disgusting. Compared to Hae Youngs refreshing scent, this was the filthy scent of the devil. The times he had spent with her flashed before him. It had been a happy time. He had been so happy that it scared him. Her clear, lingering soul called out to him. He missed it dearly. He, who had ripped apart tens of men, was lusting over Hae Youngs naked body. His resentment of himself intensified. He raised his hands. They were rough, hard hands dyed with the blood of many men. They could no longer hold onto Hae Young. His grief rained down on him like hail. He felt like a hypocrite in feeling remorse for not being able to return to Hae Young because he felt guilty for having killed countless child soldiers. The mirage of Hae Young that had been in front of his eyes shattered and disappeared. Goodbye, my love! His hope to become a scholar was a lost dream. He was now the blood-soaked monster, Black Mamba. He didnt know how many lives he would have to destroy in the future. He didnt think his blood-soaked hands deserved to embrace Hae Young. A single tear fell down his cheek. How selfish and arrogant humans are! Ahhh Urgh! Black Mamba yelled with all his frustrated emotions. The wretchedness of his shattered life, his shame at having to forget the woman he loved, the vengeance he felt at the humans who used him as their filthy white knight, and his disappointment in himself for his greed and selfishness all tangled together within him. A scream that sounded like a wounded elephant rang through the red valley. The immense echoes caused rocks to break apart and roll down the hill. The team members covered their ears frightened by the noise. He calmed his emotions. This was a place where you either kill or be killed. It was war. If he wanted to live as a human, he will have to kill the enemy. Whether he stayed living as a human being or something else, he would think about later. Namo Amitbhya, show me the way to paradise. He prayed with all his heart. As he watched Black Mamba organizing his equipment and traveling down the hill, a white line fell across the captains face. It looks like everythings been handled. Your mentality is strong. It is great. They say that there is a skilled lioness of martial arts in the East, but I didnt think I would directly hear of her. Its a relief that the valley has not been penetrated. Burimer responded to the captain. A monster is born. The world will be turned upside down. The captains eyes followed Black Mamba. Black Mamba was a strategic soldier with an immensely trained body, an acute instinct for war, and his most intimidating skill as a sniper. He was the perfect human soldier that a commander dreamed of. The one thing he lacked was experience. It was a handicap that could render all other skills useless, especially in war. There was no practicing for death. The only person who had been able to practice death was Jesus. A humans worth was directly related to their experiences. It was more so as a soldier. A battle could turn 180 degrees because of it. There is a reason that they say that an army wouldnt trade 10 new soldiers for 1 experienced one. After getting over the shock of his first murder, Black Mamba consoled himself. Black Mambas unbelievable strength made him a hidden ace. A wide smile spread across the captains face. It was the first time for Black Mamba. The 43 corpses of the guerrilla soldiers were the trade-off for the francs that he had been receiving for the last year. It meant that he had now paid off the debt to the army that had fed him. He was a mercenary, one whose reward grew larger the more he killed. In war, you only fought greed with greed, evil with evil. He, too, was now an evil monster full of greed. He had to accept that truth. Whether the end would be bright or bleak didnt matter because there was no way to return. Whether it paid off or not, the reality of his situation was that he had no choice; he had to continue walking this path. Humans were contradictory beings. They contemplated their need for survival with their desire to figure out the reason for their sad existence. He was unable to relieve his mixed-up emotions. They could only persuade themselves by their given knowledge, but humans were limited. Black Mamba left his comrades behind, as they packed up their belongings, and headed down the hill. Nobody blamed him. Black Mamba was not in a position to do such menial tasks. After going down to the valley, Black Mamba washed his blood-soaked body in the stream. He rubbed so hard that his skin became raw. The smell of blood on his body made his nose flinch as if it was rotten. It was time to return to normal life. He was astonished to find that murdering other people had become part of normal life for him. Somehow, the hand that had once held a Buddhist moktak was now wielding a murderous weapon. What can I do? Fate had already taken him too far to return to his old life. He opened up a tarp and started to disassemble the Dragunov. To a sniper, his gun was his life. He needed to take care of it so that it would always function at its greatest efficiency. Every part had to react at the users slightest touch, without fail, for the bullet to hit the exact spot at which it was aimed. He turned the gun backward and looked into it. The potent smell of gunpowder hit his nose. There was a lot of residue inside the pistol. It was an after effect of the uranium that they had used. The basic parts and functions of the gun were similar even though there were so many different varieties. The small gun had a reverse switch, bullets, bolts, safety, magazine, pistol, and gas bow. He took apart his gun by removing the screws and taking out the bolts. He diligently oiled the piston and cleaned the rest of the parts with a cloth dipped in LSA. He checked it thoroughly to see if there were any scratches, residue that would affect its function, or if there were rusted parts. He finished examining and assembling it. He put the shiny piece together with great care as if it was a ritual. While taking apart the gun and putting it back together, his consciousness and senses began to concentrate solely on his work. His heart was at peace. It felt as if he was hearing his teachers chants in solitude. The moktak and a gun were items that would not usually be categorized together, but now, they strangely intermingled. After screwing in the last bolt, he stood up abruptly. It was time to pay his dues. He didnt come all this way to be a pathetic loser that his comrades would have to worry about. Black Mamba, congratulations. Captain Paul massaged his shoulders. Whoo! His group of comrades cheered. They had been waiting for a rookie to rise from their ranks. Black Mamba felt awkward. They thought that he felt that way due to shock over the killings, but that was not the reason. It was just that his instincts had taken over his desires. Yes. Your comrades will always remain behind you for protection. That sentiment warmed his heart. The captain smiled. Black Mamba, this task must be worth over 50,000 francs. That much? We killed 43 of them and looted those 2 large containers. There were a lot of firearms, too. Captain Paul shook the battle report. Foreign units received payment for participating in a battle. The amount they were paid depended on their units result, and individuals could be paid more upon evaluation of their performance. The 50,000 francs that Paul mentioned was a payment to the unit. Individual payments had to be calculated separately. Burimer spoke loudly so that everyone could hear. These men were part of the Habib who had been spreading evil in FROLINAT. The first target who Black Mamba destroyed was Lieutenant Colonel Musta. He is a psychopath who boils and eats native children. I had wanted to kill him myself but Black Mamba intercepted him. He had committed many other filthy crimes that had not been revealed. Black Mamba flinched. He had heard the story of someone boiling and eating children, but he didnt believe it. Such a thing just didnt make sense in the 20th century. He ate a child? Its true. There were aggressive clans that had fantastical ideas. Many clans thought that eating pygmies could allow them to harness the power of the gods. In the Congo or Gabon, many filthy beings have ingested these pygmies. There were no pygmy clans here. The pygmy clans usually preferred to eat children. You didnt kill a human; you killed the devil. They are savages not worthy of your sympathy. Until I see it with my own eyes, I cant believe it. Burimer smiled slyly. You will have a chance to see it yourself. Hows your condition? Chapter 29 Good. We got intel that their remaining men are planning to invade here. If we get them on our tail, it will get tiresome. Release the poison. The captain winked and left. The war ended cleanly. The corpses and firearms were buried and left marked. The bloodstains were covered with sand. Whatever word you use to describe war, it is always dirty. Africa was in disarray from internal conflicts, and not even a bullet-sized shred of human sanctity was left. Im sorry. Ive caused trouble. At Black Mambas apology, Chartres glanced over at Jang Shin. Jang Shin stared blankly out in front of him. The real troublemaker is there. You only collided with your ego; they were eaten by the fear of war. Is there a way to fix that? Well, it is a problem that they themselves have to deal with. Getting hit usually brings them back to their senses. Humans are animals of experience. When he had gotten a thrashing from his teacher at Mt. Chung Saeng, how relieved he had been! It looks like Jang Shin, who had nothing to do with it will be taking the brunt of the hit. Black Mamba started to hit the unassuming Jang Shin. It was a move he had learned from Chui Do Shik called Muchisibaria. Muchisibarias trademark was hitting the same place repetitively in a rhythmic pattern. If you stimulate one place and then stimulate it again once the initial sensation is gone, it amplifies its intensity. Plus the one on the receiving end knows that the pain will last longer. It was a torture technique developed by Higashi Hongan-Ji 600 years ago. Ack! Wang Ba Dan! Jang Shin screamed and flinched as he was attacked for no reason. He tried to stop Black Mamba, but it was no use. Even the eight-pole master was like a child in front of Black Mamba. Every time he got hit, Jang Shin experienced hellish pain. Emil and Mark tried to get him to stop, but they were immediately thrown off. The other comrades did not even attempt to stop him. Damn it, stop hitting me! Jang Shin yelled at him. Only then did Black Mamba stop, but he screamed in Jang Shins ear in response. You punk, what are you going to do about it? Jang Shins pupils dilated and locked. He glared at Black Mamba. His swollen face looked a mess. Oh shit, alright. You were meaning to beat me to death werent you? Black Mamba smiled. If you think its not fair, then come at me. Damn, I dont like it, but I dont want to die yet. Bellman brought over the first aid kit. Black Mamba winced. It may be a bit rough, but the treatment isnt bad. Yeah right! Jang Shin yelled angrily at Bellman. According to The captains standards, the three rookies had to follow through with a rite of passage. Emil did not even endure psychological stress initially. Emil was telling his comrades about Black Mambas sniper skills so adamantly that he was spitting. Chartres claimed it was due to racial differences. He claimed that white men who ate meat were less prone to feel guilt about murdering. It was a weak argument. Ombuti stayed around Black Mamba after the fighting had ended. This merchants intuition came from his experience as an intelligence agent. Mustas squadron commander Pahali was coming this way, 10 kilometers from Uldi Hamarl. Commander Pahali had sent ahead 5 bikes, but only had 40 soldiers at his disposal. The other two units were the same. Chads government, army, and the rebels all followed the lead of the French army. The hierarchy was arranged in this order: platoon, company, battalion, regiment, brigade, division, and corps. Of the 11 warlords, the Habib army was the only one formatted as a brigade. The French army had differentiation of leader status between each hierarchy. The general was the two-star of the brigade, the division leader was three-star, the corps commander was four-star, and the captain was five-star. The four-star commander and the five-star captain were treated no differently than the division leader or brigade general unless it was a formal setting. It was all done through appointments anyways. Officially, the highest-rank was held the three-star division leader. Legion Etranger had one of those division leaders. FROLINAT was different from the other armies that had serious status inflation; it had a well-organized leadership in its hierarchy. Lieutenant Pahali had 120 men under him and had complete control over them. It was just that two-thirds of these men had to undergo retraining, and so, currently, he was short-staffed. Everyone freeze. The loud motorcycle was brought to a stop. Kibimbi, dont you hear gunshots? Pahalis sensitive ears picked up the gunshots. I hear it. Dont you think its Musta detecting Makumbo? Kibimbi who was trying to listen intently replied. Makumbo? Pahali frowned. Makumbo was a traitor. The entire northern army had been ordered to kill him. Pahalis questioning tone sent anger surging through him. Theres no reason for Makumbo to be loitering around these parts, Kibimbi hurriedly added Kibimbi was as quick-witted as Emil. Quit talking nonsense, and send two bikes for surveillance. They may be meeting with Frances special forces. Pahali was level-headed. He sent a messenger to request two more reconnaissance units. If they were able to defeat Lieutenant Musta, it would be great, but no one could be sure of the result. If he attacked prematurely, he could end up losing all his men. Losing troops would result in uneasiness. If Lieutenant Musta admits defeat, it will be a favorable result. Pahali was a company commander. If Habib loses their trust in Musta, it will come back to him as an opportunity. Pahali didnt rush and waited patiently with his troops for the right timing. Behind Uldi Hamarl was a deep valley. The mountains rising on both sides were steep as if cut with an ax. To cross through the valley, they would have to put up their lives as collateral. The back of Black Mambas head kept tingling. It might have been intuition, but if the enemy attacked from behind, that would be detrimental. Ombuti, is there a path from behind the gorge by which they can reach us? From my memory of it, no. It is too deep and dangerous for people to cross. They can only come through the front or from the sides. Ombuti searched his memory to think of all possible paths and answered confidently. Do you really think that? I do. Black Mamba felt anxious even after Ombutis reply. He trusted the strategy of the experienced captain and Ombuti, who had survived stepping on a mine, but his instincts kept sending him warning signals. This was not a situation for merely judgment and solution, it was a time to trust gut feelings. When Hannibal lead the Carthage army into the Alps and through the Pyrnes mountain range, no one had expected it. When they received intel that Napoleon was crossing the Alps, the Austrian and English army had laughed and called the intelligence agent crazy, but there was nothing that couldnt be done when humans put their minds to it. To get to the cantonment, the enemy would have to pass through their defenses on either the right or left side. Captain Paul put his troops on alert on both sides. However, he left the back empty and exposed. Captain, we should watch the back. No, The gorge will block the backside. The charging forces will be coming from this direction. Black should be positioned in the front. Paul rejected it immediately. It doesnt feel right. If we get attacked from the back, we will be done for. Is it your gut feeling again? Yes. The captain was lost in thought. Black Mambas intuition was not mere intuition. He couldnt understand it, but if thats what he thought, then he couldnt easily ignore it. Based on his judgment, there was no reason to guard the back. There were going to be hundreds of guerrilla soldiers attacking them from the front. Without Black Mambas efficient attacks, it would be hard to defend against them all. On the other hand, if they were attacked from the back, then they would all be destroyed. Night in the desert was frightfully quiet. If Mustas troops had not heard the sounds of battle, then they were most certainly deaf. This place was surrounded by FROLINAT. It was very possible that the guerrilla troops, who were accustomed to this terrain, would attack from behind. And if they dont come from the back? Isnt that better? He observed Black Mambas blank expression. The captain wanted to hit his lips, ashamed at having uttered such an obvious statement. Fine, we will ignore the possibility of an attack from the back and ask for reinforcements for the front. The captain trusted Black Mambas war instincts. He risked the possibility of losing his men and left the back to be guarded by Black Mamba. The red sunset covered the darkened sky. He hehehe The crazy laughter of the hyenas echoed. Emil concentrated so hard as he stared into his night-vision goggles that he felt his eyeballs would fall out. Black Mamba had said there was a high chance the enemy would approach this way. If he predicted it, then the enemy would definitely show up. Black Mambas war experience was not one to ignore. His omniscience was as powerful as his attack skills. Sometimes he thought that he could even predict the future. This was such a time. Theyre here! Emil yelled to himself in his head. When the eyebrow-shaped crescent moon was high above them, they saw the silhouette of several AN/PVS-5s through their night vision goggles. As expected, Black Mambas prediction was correct. The troops were armed with AK47s and PKMs. Emil saw through his night vision lens the troops climbing up through the mountain. They had no way of knowing how they had crossed the gorge. Tap Tap Tap With his magazine, he hit the rock three times. No doubt Black Mamba had seen them from 10 meters away, but he did as he was trained to do and signaled him. Black Mamba had already prioritized his targets. The stars and crescent moon gave enough light for him to see his targets. With his scope, he estimated they were about 1300 meters away. They were wearing camouflage and had their heads and faces wrapped in turbans. He could see more and more guerrilla troops approaching. Through the scope, they looked like rice cakes floating in red bean porridge. Black Mamba hit the rock twice to signal that he understood, then got rid of the scope. The PSO-1M2 scope used on Dragonov did not function as well as the ones used on other guns. The magnifying power was four-times weaker. He had requested a better functioning scope from the army research group, but there was no telling when he would receive it. The Soviet scope had a small range, so it was hard to decipher the exact number of troops. The magnifying power was so weak that you couldnt tell whether the person was holding a pickaxe or a gun from 500 yards away. Shit, these Soviet items are useless. Black Mamba shoved the scope into his backpack. There were clouds in the sky that made it difficult to see with his vision. Ah! Emil swallowed his scream. Right next to him, Black Mambas head popped up suddenly. Highly anxious, he almost pulled the trigger on him. He was a ridiculous partner. Only until he hit his shoulder did he realize he was there. If he had been the enemy, his neck would have already been skewered by a sword. Angry, Emil clenched his fist and shook it. Black Mamba smiled and was handed Emils night vision glasses. The 2.5 generation AN/PVS-5 night vision goggles were phenomenal. The usually used PSO-1M2 scope with four-times magnification was no match for it. It was enough to clearly see the faces of each guerrilla. The guerrilla troops climbing up the valley were agile. They were able to use the grooves of the rocks to move stealthily without being seen. There was not a single child soldier among them. This troop was formed with the most experienced members of the special forces. Emil, they are going for a diversion tactic. The special task forces are the real ones. How did they cross the gorge? You can ask the dead ones later. Were going to get hit on the back of our heads at this point. Black Mamba scolded Emil. It didnt matter how they had crossed the gorge as long as they showed up in attacking range right now. The clear-cut reasoning to gain survival took precedence over the question of how. How many are there? I cant be certain. Over 20. What? We would have been hit severely in the back of our heads. Emil broke out in goosebumps. What would have happened if Black Mamba hadnt been stubborn and positioned himself there as a backup? Just thinking about it sent chills up his spine. Emil, bring them in 500 meters. Okay, I will have to start attacking for now. Black Mamba handed Emil the night vision goggles then hid. He hid his gun deep between two rocks. The Dragunov had an especially bright flashpoint. It decreased his range of sight, but it was better than having his position exposed. Once the wind subsided, the clouds masked the sky overhead. Damn! He muttered to himself and looked through his scope. Under the hazy starlit sky, it was better to get help from machinery. Once placed on the scope, his range of vision decreased and caused him frustration. Bang Bang The Dragunovs unique gunshot sound rang consecutively. It was the legendary double kill. The strong impact exploded the two heads of the guerilla soldiers and sent them flying. Green liquid splashed in his scope. Emil was able to get one of his targets with a point shot. Emil was a skilled sniper who used a machine gun like a pistol. The machine gun he was using was not the M249 licensed from the US but one from Belgium. The unlicensed brand was much more accurate compared to the licensed version. That punk is good! Black Mamba exclaimed. The machine gun was not an attack weapon; it was a way to overpower the enemy. It was hard to shoot at targets outside the 500-meter range, so it proved how great his partners skills were. Chapter 30 The Minimi was a light machine gun developed by the FN company in 1980. At 7 kilograms, it had great mobility. It could pour out 1000 shots at 1000 meters with 5.56-millimeter Nato ammunition. It was a monster complementary to the Black Mambas strengths. Emil abandoned his Epal and took up the Minimi to support Black Mamba. Emils decision was sound. When he took up the Minimi, the snipers lack of gunfire became sufficient. The machine gun and snipers combined attack would bring about the greatest results. Sniper here. Were approaching the hiding place. Machine gunner at the 7th line, 12 oclock. Pahalis directions were heard clearly. Black Mamba was impressed. They were truly keen opponents. The guerrillas were initially the first targets, but they disappeared from the scopes frame like water through sand. It was a surprising reaction. Crash Bang Tatataata Bullets were imbedded in obscured spots as the sound of a machine gun rang out in the area. Ping! Emil lowered his head in a hurry. He had only managed to hit two people before the enemy could see the smoke from firing his weapon. His plan to clean up outside of the range of gunfire was now useless. Black, be careful. They have a machine gun. Stop worrying about me and hide in your shell. Blue shadows flashed in his scopes view continuously. He made fast movements to avoid being a snipers target. As expected of Black Mamba! Emil murmured. Despite their clever hiding spots, his targets disappeared one by one. It was their misfortune to have met Black Mamba. He had an instinct for marking his opponents position in 0.3 seconds and using his impressive sight. There was no way to hide from him. What an opponent! Pahali exclaimed. His subordinates were exposed and had been shot down without a misfire. They had been specially trained by a North Korean instructor for a year. His insides burned at the misfortune. Machine guns! Cover the range and close the distance! They had to get near the Black Mamba to catch him. The guerrillas received the command and approached him under the protection of the machine guns. Black Mamba changed his position in response to their approach on both sides. While Pahila got 200 meters closer, eight of his men succumbed to snipers shots. The angered guerrillas poured a barrage of bullets from their Minimi machine guns. Their battleground was now 300 meters. Black Mamba got rid of his scope because it limited his view. His opponents actions were sly. He changed tactics. He planned to use well-placed shots to threaten his opponents into revealing their positions. Uldi Hamarl was a dry valley without trees. Although there were plenty of crevices to hide ones body, it had mostly smooth terrain. The guerrillas climbed over those crevices like monkeys. It was as if lizards had gained claws. Clang clang A broken piece of stone tore his cheek. Black Mamba didnt move. He focused on the movements of the guerrillas. Two, three seconds passed. He could see one guerrilla taking the roundabout route to the right. Youre dead! Black Mamba waited with his sight to the left of the rock. Bam the face of the guerrilla, who had been leveling his gun barrel, exploded. This was the most fearsome part of spatial perception. An opponent that had been in Black Mamas sight had no way of escaping from death. The moment the guerrillas moved from their positions to shoot, they were hit by bullets and fell to the ground. It was their fate to never understand why they fell. Mustafa Pahali gritted his teeth. Why is that crazy bastard down here? He was frustrated to think that a special sniper would be at such a terrain where there was no cover. Over half of the 22 soldiers, who had entrusted their lives to their god, were dead. He could not approximate how many snipers remained undercover. That was because Black Mamba had been moving his position now and then. When the distance between the first shooting point and the second shooting point was several meters apart, no one would think both shots were fired from the same person. To Pahali, this place was like his backyard, as he was born and raised here. He had even found a secret tunnel, when he was little, after chasing after a goat that allowed him to cross the valley. He had been certain of his victory. Until he met that damned sniper. Thirteen of his comrades had been shot by that sniper. His subordinates were scattered, pierced by fear. They couldnt attack together because there was a machine gunner on the seventh line, too. Conceal yourselves! Pahali shouted. Their attack on the rear had failed. He had lost subordinates needlessly. He had attempted to create a free-for-all, but that was thwarted because of that devil-like sniper. It made his teeth chatter. Pahali chose to wage a perpetual war. Simply holding the snipers in place was enough to aid their main attack forces. The gunfire that had been continuously ringing stopped. As if they had been waiting, loud sounds of gunfire and explosions tore through the night air from the front lines. Black Mamba felt impatient. They couldnt withstand a mass attack. When the grand guerrilla forces swarmed in, enhanced by adrenaline, his teammates were going to be in danger. Emil, how many have you caught? Barely two. Theyre faster than the squirrels at Mt. Cinto. Ive caught twelve. Theyre well-trained. Theyve gone into hiding. What are you going to do? Hide. Im going groundhog hunting. Thats not a good decision. Im worried about the front lines. They need reinforcements, fast. Be careful of friends. Emil couldnt stop Black Mamba. He trusted his friends battle strength, but they werent enough to stop a larger army. Without Black Mamba, it was going to be hard to stop the onslaught. Black Mamba hid his Dragunov between the rocks and pulled out Famas from his backpack. At close-range, the Famas was the best choice with its compact shape and better firing rate. Along with four Famas magazines and three Glocks, he checked his kukri and dagger. Black Mamba slid down from his rock like a snake. Emils night-vision device tracked Black Mambas movements. He could see his partner sliding down a steep surface in a zig-zag pattern. Turns out hes a sidewinder, not Black Mamba, Emil chuckled. He grasped his Minimi again. It was time to watch Black Mambas back. Tutatatata Emil began his warning shots. Black Mamba rushed down the edge on four limbs. Every time his muscles pounded the earth, white dust rose into the air. Thats him. Catch him. Pahali was astonished as he witnessed Black Mamba rush down. A sniper who rushed headfirst into enemy lines was unheard of. A sniper in hiding was more terrifying than a sniper in plain view. The guerrillas who were ready for revenge shot at once. But Emil was not an average machine gunner. He was a sniping machine gunner. He located the most threatening attacks on Black Mamba and directed his shots there. Argh! The guerrilla who had been aiming at Black Mambas back shouted. Blood ran down his clothes. Having not seen that guerilla on his radar, Black Mamba, frightened, flung his body behind a rock. The guerrilla had been 100 meters ahead of his comrades. He, too, had special abilities. He had no life force in his body, just like a corpse, and had gone unnoticed. If it had not been for Emil, Black Mamba would have been dead, being served meals only three times a year to his shrine. He felt like treating Emil to another bottle in gratitude once they returned to headquarters. Sh*t! Black Mamba shouted. In the armor was not a corpse but a bunch of dirt. The dead guerrilla had plastered sand all over himself aside from his eyes. He had held a mouthguard and had plastered mud all over that, too. Now he could understand why he felt no life force. These people were familiar with the terrain and had lots of battle experience. They were of a different caliber than the guerrillas he faced earlier that evening. Totatatata A machine gun exploded into action below the cliff. Emils machine gunfire quelled. It had been subdued by the opponents fire. Black Mamba silently calmed his mind and released his senses. Whoosh His heart resounded. His resonance scoured 30 meters, 50 meters, and 100 meters of land. It became more difficult to control his senses the more area he covered. Living beings in a 100-meter vicinity appeared on his radar. He immediately dismissed the beings with a weak life force. The guerrillas in hiding appeared more clearly. There were eight remaining members, and the nearest one in hiding was a machine gunner 12 meters ahead of him, under a rock. The Degtyarev was dangerous to Emil and therefore became his first target. The moment he attempted to move, the enemy opened fire once more. Kakakaka Tutatatata The dry sound of an AK47 and its bullets resounded. Above the valley, Emils Minimi started its counterattack with a heavy blast. He provided cover with the danger of being aimed at. They truly were formidable opponents. Black Mamba threw a stone 10 meters ahead of him. It was a traditional method. Kakaka The moment they opened fire on that spot, he threw his body, jumping across 12 meters at once. Ugk! The infantryman beside the gunner shouted when he saw Black Mamba attack them from the sky. The Famas opened fire in mid-air. Bang Before the surprised look on their faces could disappear, he put holes in their foreheads. Black Mamba twisted his body like a cat and landed, immediately rolling behind a boulder. Gunfire opened on the place he was a second before. Ugh! What awaited Black Mamba between the boulder was a rattlesnake. The surprised snake shot forward like a dragon and attacked him. Similarly surprised, he shoved the barrel of his Famas in its mouth and pinned its head with the blade in his glove. The rattlesnake twitched on the ground. You damned thing, you now have a horn. Think of yourself as a dragon and thank me in your afterlife. If the rattlesnake had heard him, it would have been outraged. That was not something that an intruder in its home should say. And what is this? A scorpion approached slowly with its poisonous rear raised. He crushed the scorpion under his boots. It would have been even more aggravating for the rattlesnake whose prey had been that very scorpion. The rule of nature was the survival of the fittest. Black Mamba wiped his cold sweat. This was a strange variable possible only in a real-life situation. A single mistake, and he would have been bitten by the rattlesnake. This was an empty land without a hospital or community. He didnt die from the scorpions poison, but his skills lagged slightly. His enemies were not only the guerrillas. This was not a scenic place nor a bedded ground, and it had a harsh climate with bloodthirsty animals and insects. The gunfire and explosions from the front lines began to grow harsher in sound. Black Mamba felt impatient. He had to finish this and help his teammates. He decided on close combat. He lowered his Famas and inserted a suppressor to the Glock. He held kukri in one hand and the Glock in the other. This was the beginning of his attack. The kukri was a dagger that was curved about five degrees to its blade. There was a long sword variation, but it was mostly used as a dagger. When piercing or swinging it, the weight leaned towards the end of the blades edge so that it held more power when swung. It was similar to the ax he had used in Bangtaesan. He had found the kukri at a market in Saint-Ouen, Paris. An aura of bloodlust had been emanating from the dagger. It was not one of those copies. Black Mamba had purchased the dagger, without bargaining, for 4000 francs. Before he had purchased the kukri, he had bought white gold steel at Ajaccio. Although it had looked nice, it was worthless in battle. There was no frame, and it was too light. A blade without a frame was bound to be stuck it the thing it strikes. It was for one-time use only. Something a noble of the Joseon Era would use as a trinket. The kukri he bought was 1.2 kilograms, and the blade alone was at 30 centimeters long. An average sword was around 1 kilogram. The kukri was too extravagant to be called a dagger. He had never used it after he bought it. The sensation of its heaviness and comfortable grip cooled down his overheated emotions. He had not learned any weapons from his teacher, but the Krav Maga he had learned from Pief was enough. His built body and nature of his senses made the sword in his hands a deadly weapon. He used the 36 joint training as his sword technique. A sword was different from a gun. When a sword was in his grip, he could feel the tension and the battles bloodlust spreading around him. His head became clear like the autumns skies. It was time to bathe in blood. Chapter 31 Suddenly from the east, the sky brightened. A shower of meteorites rained upon them. It was a rare sight, and, at the same time, it was the signal to start the battle. Black Mamba became an assassin. He was as stealthy as a snake and as agile as a puma. The deadly killer encroached the elite Pahali squad. Pahalis elite squad had a lot of battle experience. Their ability to swing a dagger was like no other. As if they had made a promise with the enemy, they, too, were holding daggers and guns. Pahali was flabbergasted. Their attacker was seriously insane. No one had ever heard of anyone coming into battling while swinging a sword and wielding a sniper gun. The battle soon changed to bloodshed. They had hoped to win through endurance but, amazingly, that didnt seem to be working. If they didnt want to die, then they would have to kill him. Fweet fweet fwee Pahali blew a whistle, which was the length of two fingers, in two, short, sharp blasts. It was the signal to separate into two groups to engage in battle. Emil stopped shooting for cover. He felt frustrated. Once they headed into battle, the machine gun became useless. He stared adamantly into his night-vision goggles. On the fifth ridge of the valley, Black Mamba and the guerrillas started the battle. They were 250 meters away. With the night-vision goggles that magnified them 12 times, he could see the spurting of blood between them. Emil waited for the result with tired, red eyes. The guerrilla forces had received training to kill, and they were as agile as pumas. He wasnt confident that he could take on even one of them. Emil abandoned the machine gun and pasted his eyes on the night-vision goggles. He could see Black Mamba flying from one boulder to the next. Through the night-vision goggles, he looked like a blue lizard. Every time he saw him, he couldnt help but gasp in awe. Black Mamba climbed over the boulder and swung upside-down. Gasp! Emil exclaimed. It was a boulder that was at least 10 meters high. The kukri ax landed squarely on the guerrillas head. He could see the guerrilla cringe in surprise from below the boulder. Black Mamba seemed to be gaining immense strength. The blade shred through the front and out the back. The crunching of breaking bones could be heard. Pouring blood filled his vision through the lens. Emils stomach lurched. Crash Black Mamba swung his left hand back and put all his strength behind it. The guerrilla that was charging with a sword fell headfirst, and a powerful kick landed on his chin. As if his joints had become rubber, his body twisted and collapsed. The guerrilla who had been wounded by a bullet to his stomach now had his head twisted completely around so that it faced his back. Everything happened so fast. Black Mamba didnt even give the crumbling enemy time to counter-attack. Whew! Emil blew out the air that he had been holding in. He had been so tense that he couldnt even breathe properly. He felt sorry for the guerrillas being destroyed. What if Black Mamba had been the enemy? Even thinking it, gave him chills. Stealthy movements, powerful attacks, merciless pity. All these features made him known as Azrael. Emil clenched his teeth as he watched the frightening battle. If he was to tell this story to his seniors, he would get rave reviews. The guerrillas who had shown up on the scope disappeared one by one. Black Mamba disappeared from time to time from the scope, also. Emil, whose vision was phenomenal, only missed their movements when one of the troops would fall. Black Mambas best and worst skill was his ability to instantly transport from one place to another. He is a man not afraid of tree nor rock. He will not be surprised because snow is falling or the wind is blowing. But he could appear out of nowhere without making a sound. The angel of death, Azrael, had come to life. Bang bang bang The guerrillas continually pulled the trigger of the Tokarev behind them. With his spatial recognition skills, Black Mamba sensed the disturbances in the energy around him. He felt a chill on his back, and he quickly threw his body. As it flew through the air, a bullet flew past him. It was impeccable timing. Pahalis troops had been trained to use inhumane tactics in North Korea. They did not refrain from using strategies that used their comrades as bait. Black Mamba opened his eyes wide. Even with such a great physique, he couldnt change direction in the air. The high-stress situation triggered his power. As he broke through this dimension, he could see the flying bullet coming toward him. The air around the traveling bullet rippled. Adrenaline released. His brain, aware of the danger, was sending signals to his body to survive. Actin and myosin pulled and pushed to raise the kukri. Time froze. The gunshots were slow, but the movement of the kukri felt just as slow. The muscle contracting from his upper arm to his wrist seemed to take forever. Clang The parabellum bullet bounced off the thick blade of the kukri. Sparks flew as if they had lit a match, and the blade shuddered as if it would break. The thick and resilient muscles absorbed the impact of the gun. If it had been a normal person, the sword would have flown out of his hands. Thud thud Black Mamba was able to muster strength from his compromised state. The guerrillas shot at him head-on with the Tokarev while more came at him from the sides. They all fell at his hands. The double-tap skill is one that requires a sniper to shoot before the impact of the rebound hits him. It was a skill that used two bullets to make sure that the kill is successful. Black Mamba dispersed the impact of the double-tap. There was no reason to waste an extra bullet on someone whod already been critically injured. Emil swallowed hard. Every moment was a matter of life and death. Oh no! He could see a wave of guerrillas coming down the hill organized in groups of two. If one were to be attacked, the other would try to counter. Emil hastily put his right thumb on the trigger of the Minimi. Black Mamba disappeared suddenly from the night-vision goggles. The blade of his kukri flashed in the moonlight. The attackers body thudded onto the ground. Afterward, his severed head fell next to the body. A stream of blood shot upwards. Whew! Emil sighed a breath of relief. He couldnt be sure what had happened. The guerrillas seemed to be flying to their deaths as Black Mamba shoved his kukri blade into their necks. He trembled in fear watching this scene. Clang For the first time, the kukri was blocked. Ack! Pahali screamed without realizing it. His right arm bent due to a powerful force, and his sword flew out of his hand. It was mere luck that he was able to block the lightning-fast sword that flew towards him. He had been aiming to stab his sword into the enemys neck but had changed its direction to block the incoming attack, just in time. Agile as a puma, he was also as strong as a buffalo. His bones shook and his body twisted. His nerves became paralyzed. He thought that even if he had been hit with a silverback, it would be weaker than what he felt now. Reflecting the moonlight, their murderous eyes glared into each other. One had bloodshot red eyes while the other had a cold, relaxed gaze. Pahali was also a warrior with the ability to turn the tides. He suppressed his pain through mind power and lifted the Tokarev held in his left hand. At that moment, he felt something on his forehead. Thud Into his forehead, a large blade penetrated. Pahali wasnt even aware of the detrimental hit. The blade only weighed 500 grams. Black Mambas kukri was 1.2 kilograms. The thick blade split his skull and penetrated his brain. Pahali could see the dark being holding a bloody sword and gun right before his eyes. It was the first time he could clearly see the man who had killed his brothers. Kanmasishib! (Hes like a nightmare!) Azrael! After uttering those few words, the light from Pahalis eyes flitted away. Sika jonmani! There was no way for Black Mamba to understand Pahalis Arabic. Of course, Pahali couldnt understand Korean as he took his last breath. Pahali had been known as the best warrior of the FROLINAT. But mouse or a rat, it would be eaten by a cat either way. Pahali was not even worthy as an appetizer to Black Mamba. Its over! With the death of the most-skilled soldier, his murderous streak disappeared. In five minutes, the cutthroat hand-to-hand combat ended. Black Mamba leaned on the boulder and gathered his breath. His murderous rage was slowly starting to dissipate. If he had not met his teacher and learned to control his urges, he would have run around like a crazy man high on blood. They were persistent. Even as they died, they shoved their swords into their enemies, and they used their comrades as bait to counter-attack. They had received real special forces training. They were much different than the pathetic guerrilla troops they had come to expect from the FROLINAT. Black Mamba looked down blankly at the last man that he defeated. His head was split in half and gray matter was oozing out of it. Looking down at the sad corpse, his comrade made a pathetic speech. Receive a lot of Allahs love. Nami ami tabul. Black Mamba grabbed the enemys sword after tossing out a worse insult than his comrade. The heavy greenish sword was an NR-2 known as a Spetsnaz. It must have been true that the Soviet army had trained the FROLINAT soldiers. All kill. Retreat. Thats amazing. I cant see any more enemies. Emil answered just able to hold in his desire to throw up. Black Mamba wiped the blood off his dripping kukri on Pahalis clothes. Damn, hes not very useful. He muttered as he gathered his things. The Famas that he had tossed next to the rattlesnake was broken. It was the gun that Emil had destroyed with bullet marks and his shooting angle. It was something he was fond of because he had used it since his time in the Ecole, but he had to give it up. One Famas was worth 4300 francs. 500,000 won had been lost. As someone extremely stingy, this was a heartbreaking loss. You, go drink with your own money. The Sciaccarello that he had been meaning to give to Emil was rescinded. Black, what are you talking about? Emil asked in confusion. Black Mamba grabbed the AK-47. From the belts of the dead soldiers, he grabbed 30 bullets and 6 magazines and put it with his belongings. The Famas was known to perform better than the AK, but to him, it was practically the same thing. Thinking that it was all over, a wave of exhaustion came over him. His uniform was wet with blood. The smell of blood made his head throb. It was much more exhausting to participate in hand-to-hand combat versus shooting from a distance. Or was it from extreme tension? His muscles were tired from the constant instant transportation. Black, are you wounded? Emil exclaimed in surprise. No. Its the blood of the enemy. Whew. That scared me. But the smell is no joke. Emil pinched his nose. The mix of blood and sweat coming from Black Mamba smelled so horrible, he was afraid his nose would rot. I cant wait to take a bath. The saying that supply and demand are the most important thing in war is bogus. The most important thing is the ability to take a bath. Tha thats true. Emil stuttered. He wanted to punch his own mouth for saying that Black Mamba smelled. It was not something he should be saying to a partner who had come back showered in blood. Emil, its a souvenir. Ooh la, a Spetsnaz sword, its incredible. Emil was ecstatic upon receiving the sword. Emil reported the results through the radio. Black Mamba division. Agent infiltrated guerrilla. 22 cleared. Its the captain. As expected, Black Mamba was right. Is Black Mamba alright? Hes fine. Its an emergency. Join us immediately. Will do. Black, Captain looks to be on the verge of sh*tting his pants. A mutt eats 50 points before going back to his home. What does that mean? Is 50 points dog food? Shit, it means that the enemy is pretty good at using their strengths. Their customs were different, so it wouldnt have made sense for their proverbs to be understood. Black Mamba and Emil ran down the red hill without resting. Oh mon Dieu! Emil screamed as he arrived at the line of defense. Both sides were engaged in heavy battle. The sound of guns and screams pounded in his ear. His comrades were losing to the enemys firepower. He understood why the captain was sh*tting his pants. Mustas army took turns attacking with his attack troops and then his cover troops as he made his way closer to them. Team Ratel could not defend against the guerrillas topographic advantage. The enemys first team had been taken by surprise by Black Mamba and lost without much of a fight, but the Habib independence fighters were not your average fighters. They were the best army specializing in counter-attacks. Habib and Goukouni, as part of the FROLINAT army, were part of the freedom alliance part or FAP. The northern army were freedom fighters. Each base had been training its troops for over two years in the Soviet Union and North Korea. These men, who had been trained there, were as good as fighters of government armies. The guerrillas defensive and offensive teams took turns to create a highly successful attack tactic. Even the greatest snipers could not easily catch the guerrilla forces. Theyre like flying squirrels. Black Mamba exclaimed. The battle had come within a 300-meter range. They only had to approach 50 more meters for them to be within attack range. The guerrilla forces had a numerical advantage that would be detrimental if they had reached them within this range. The situation does warrant him sh*tting his pants. Black Mamba disassembled the scope. To catch those that moved like flying squirrels, he had to widen his vision. His eyes were like a wild cats eyes. With moonlight and spatial awareness at his disposal, he didnt need the scope. Bang From behind the red boulder, a guerrilla peeked out and got his head blasted apart. It was the soldier who was commanding the RPG forces. Bang bang bang The Dragunovs unique muted sound started to echo every 0.8 seconds. The charging guerrillas fell like dominoes. Chapter 32 Fweet fweet fweet- In the guerrilla territories, the sharp sound of a whistle echoed. The charging guerrilla forces quickly retreated. Black Mamba had single-handedly stopped Mustas army. They did not give up on continuing the attack. As they were attacked with full force, they decided to change their tactics. The defensive squad would rain bullets so that their troops could use it as cover then pop out randomly to attack for a second. Then they would go back into hiding. Against a regular sniper, this tactic may have worked, but right now, it was not working in their favor. Their opposition was Black Mamba. In 0.3 seconds, he already had his target marked. Bang The heads of two guerrilla troops exploded before they even took two steps. Even the shooting squad was unable to stop Black Mamba. The guerrillas who had been showering bullets with a machine gun soon collapsed. The guerrilla hiding with his gun behind a boulder fell before he could even pull the trigger. Black Mambas godlike shooting instantaneously silenced the enemy. If the tiniest of body parts came out in the open, they were immediately attacked. Black Mambas characteristic strategy was to obliterate the opposition in the shortest time possible. A minute had not even passed before he toppled 20 soldiers. Mustas army, which had been steadily making headway toward them, was losing ground fast. They were so busy trying to find cover that attacking had long flown out of their minds. Musta armys advantage was zapped in a heartbeat. Were alive! The captain sighed in relief. If Black Mamba had come to their rescue only a few moments later, they would all have been goners. He is one frightening marksman. They were now no longer surprised and instead went on to praise him. With the help of one man, the entire wars direction had shifted. Black Mamba obliterated the opposing forces in the battle of the early evening also. Azrael (angel of death) was a fitting title for him. Barf, why does Black always go for the head? Jang Shin threw up as he came up from behind. The gray matter that had exploded out of the enemys heads made his stomach churn. Hey, they stick out their heads all the time. If you dont want to look at it, take off the night vision goggles. Take them off, the sophisticated shuttle man Burimer said as he hit Jang Shin on the back of the head. Shit, you think Im Black Mamba? How can I see without the night vision goggles? Shut up and hurry. When Black Mamba silences them, you have to hit them with lightning. Jang Shin didnt even have time to spit out his vomit because of Burimers nagging. Why are there so many of them? The math was not working outright. They said that there were about 150 guerrilla troops left. In the early evening, they had killed 43, and afterward, they had cleared 22. That meant that there should only be 80 of them left for the latter half of the battle. Taking into account that they sacrificed 23 to Allah, killing their comrades to succeed in their attacks, they should have less than 30 troops left. But there seemed to be 60-70 of them showing up on their radar. Captain, how many of them are there? Aside from the ones we got rid of, theres over a hundred. A hundred? Black Mamba grabbed the back of his head. Unbelievable, do these punks only know how to count to 150? Unlike the captives confessed numbers, they had close to 200 troops. Black, theres no time. If they rush in here, we are done for, The captain said anxiously. His worry was obvious. Team Ratel was planning their attack for the end. When the FROLINATs reinforcement troops were introduced, they were going to run over them with boulders so that they couldnt retreat. As expected, the guerrilla forces movements changed. They stopped their charging and dispersed into hiding like ants. When the sound of guns decreased, the darkness seemed to grow deeper. Oh no, these punks are planning a delayed operation. Their intention was easy to decipher. Jang Shin had lost his target and was taken aback. The special tactic was no longer viable. Instead, Burimer and Jang Shin were now in danger from the guerrillas RPG. Surprised by the change in tactic, Jang Shin grabbed his mine thrower and hid behind a rock. The fighting lulled. Team Ratel were now the desperate ones. They had no way of knowing when the FROLINAT forces would start their attack. Black Mamba became lost in thought. His identity had already been vastly revealed. His comrades were not ones to reveal a secret operation, but something was bothering him. Besides, even if they blabbed about it in a pub, no one would have believed them. If someone had mentioned a human who can see from 100 meters away and talk about killing an enemy with a rock from that range, they would have been seen as a crazy person. People would have laughed at the idiot who thought that there was a person who could clear an enemy every second when they were 500 meters away. Black Mamba looked down. His entire body was drenched in blood. From his wet uniform, blood dripped to the ground. Teacher, forgive your disciple who walks the path of blood. I could not abandon my comrades. Having already decided to abandon his body, Black Mamba resolved to continue on this bloody trail. Captain, Im going in. What are you talking about? A prolonged war is dangerous. Ill go in myself and clear them out. Youre going to jump into the midst of them? Thats crazy. The captain rejected the offer flatly. Dont talk nonsense. Even if you were a master of hand-to-hand combat, you are a human, not a robot. The number of survivors on their side is two digits. What do you think you can do in there all by yourself? Captain, this is enemy territory. Before they all come charging at us like dogs, we have to mow them over and move. I am Black Mamba. Are you insane? The captain didnt know what to do. The enemy had hidden like turtles. There was no set plan to fight it. Jang Shins counter-thrower would not be of much use now. Their weakness in having a small special task team was instantly revealed. Black Mambas stamina was another issue. He had already battled furiously with the enemy before he got here. As a human, there was a limit to his endurance. Burimer, what do you think of Black Mambas crazy talk? If we want to change the tide of battle, we have no choice. Hmm! Are you saying we should do the insane thing he suggests? Its Black Mamba. He has the authority to command his tactics. If you remain stubborn it will just hurt your pride so just give him permission. The captain chewed his left thumb as if it was jerky. It was a habit of his when he was in times of severe stress. Burimer was right. They were in a desperate situation, and Black Mamba was not the type to listen to him even if he tried to stop him. Captain Paul cursed himself for being the one to lead this operation. He wanted to shoot all of those who had forced him into going ahead with such a tactic. Damn, dont die. Black Mamba. I am Black Mamba. Black Mamba hid his Dragunov between two boulders and pulled out his Glock. The captains eyes grew huge as he watched through his night-vision goggles. Like magic, Black Mamba, who had been in front of him a second ago, disappeared. Whew, I cant get used to it. That guys not a sniper but a Senior. Senior was the original legendary Islam assassin from the Crusades. He was called an old man. After 3 minutes passed, Black Mambas presence was decipherable through the night-vision goggles. With the Glock in one hand and the kukri in the other, he popped out of nowhere in the middle of the enemy troops. He wasnt sure how he was able to set off these fireworks with his gun in this sort of war. The captain released his grip on his Dragunov and watched Black Mambas movements through his night-vision goggles. This was an opportunity to see for himself Black Mambas phenomenal hand-to-hand combat skills. Black Mamba disappeared behind a boulder. Suddenly a green human silhouette flew out. Again, another green shadow flew out then disappeared into the dark. Black Mamba came back into view hovering in the air. From his hands, sparks flew as blue shadows collided then fell. Blood fell from the sky. From the looks of it, the oppositions main artery had been cut. Don Dieu, Cest ve! (My goodness, no way!) The captains hands trembled holding the night-vision goggles. Black Mamba appeared to kill an enemy, then instantly disappeared from view, then appeared again to make another enemy soldier fall. He was merciless and precise. Even though a master of Krav Maga himself, he could not follow Black Mambas movements nor understand it. It was more surprising to see the kukri in his left hand and the Glock in his right moving as if they were completely different entities. While the left hand swung the kukri at the neck of his enemy, the right hand was double-tap shooting at the troops behind him. Ambidextrous people can do different things with their hands simultaneously. However, they cannot swing a sword in one hand and shoot a gun with the other, but Black Mamba was using one hand to handle a gun easily. Because of Hollywood movies, people thought that it was possible to shoot a gun with one hand. A short pistol spits out shells. Shot consecutively, the aim will decrease. It is difficult to even hit someone 10 meters away when shooting consecutively. The FM shooting position is called the Weaver Stance. The Weaver Stance was created by American Jack Weaver. He researched a guns property relative to the human body to come up with a position that would yield the most precise results. Staying in a shooting position is not hard. Spread your legs slightly wider than shoulder-width and aim 45 degrees toward the target. The right shoulder is shifted to the back. The right arm is naturally out straight in front, parallel to your aim. With your left hand, you support your right hand. This position decreases the rebound effect by the most. To increase the precision of the shots, lower body stability and a decrease in rebound are pivotal. Western movies and Hong Kong noir movies show actors shooting with one hand to hit two or three of their targets, but this strictly only happens in movies. Black Mamba had trained his body in a way that gave him magnified vision, and along with Parathropuss immense strength and spatial awareness, he was an unstoppable war machine. Only with Black Mambas physique could the one-handed, double-tap, Hong Kong-noir style of shooting be achieved. But the captain didnt know the secrets of Black Mambas physique, so, of course, he couldnt understand it. Mouris, Emil 9 oclock position for 3 seconds. Morris and Emil heeded Black Mambas command and pointed their machine guns to the 9 oclock position to shower the opposition with a hail of bullets. The instant the machine guns stopped firing, Black Mamba attacked the enemies. Swish swish He jumped into their hiding nooks and shook them as he swung his kukri. Black Mamba was able to cut a fly in half in midair as it was flying. Blood erupted like a geyser. Ack! The guerrillas chest had been split, and he uttered a muted scream, but the one with his head chopped off didnt even get a chance to gasp in surprise. The two guerrillas had been lying in wait but were sent to see Allah without even realizing what was happening. Kakakaka Bullets rained from the shooting squad. Black Mambas body popped out from the cover like the shards of a bomb. There wasnt even enough time to change the magazine on the Glock. He threw the Glock into the air then pulled the pin out of the grenade and tossed it. Sweep sweep sweep Upon removing the pin, the grenade exploded into a million pieces. The shards stabbed through the necks of the three guerrillas holding guns. Swoop. Ack! With their larynxes shattered, the guerrillas gasped their last breaths and collapsed. Then the Glock that had been tossed into the air landed back into Black Mambas hand. Tak snap Black Mamba engaged the falling Glock. He had run into their hiding spots and killed two, then killed another with his grenade, then grabbed his falling gun in two breaths. Black Mamba wiped his face with the back of his hand. Slimy blood got on his hand. It was the blood of the sacrificial soldier whose chest had been split open. His teachers words passed through his memory. A teacher will walk barefoot to make sure he does not step on even a crawling bug. Ive already decided to sacrifice this body, so I will bear the burden of my crimes. Black Mamba clenched his teeth. Swoop. He relaxed his breathing and attempted to trigger his transportation ability. It was not easy. The desire to kill was boiling inside him, and he could not quell it. The potent smell of blood was seducing him further. Darkness is Black Mambas friend. It was reminiscent of him eating bugs in the dark caves. He gave up his natural transportation ability and perked up his senses to find his targets. Beyond 20 meters, he sensed the presence of three shooters. Swoop Black Mamba threw a stone, and it flew at them like a bomb. Crash The rock hit the boulder with a loud sound and crumbled. Black Mambas body stretched. Bang bang bang Black Mamba jumped over the boulder and consecutively double-tapped to shoot his opponents. The guerrillas who were hit all fell to their deaths. Crack From behind him, a guerrilla troop charged toward him with a sword. Black Mamba did a back kick and landed it squarely into his chest. His ribs cracked and collapsed, and he went numb. Remembering the events at Mt. Bang Tae, he stabbed the enemy in his side. Chapter 33 Ah! It was impeccable timing. As Black Mambas back swayed, his weapon moved swiftly like flowing water right at the guerrilla. It was Chungpabos zero-gravity move. The kukri drew a circle slicing off the barrel of the gun and the guerrillas wrist. Damn! Black Mamba bit his lips. He was a child soldier barely 13 or 14 years old. The white eyes on his black face were opened wide in surprise. Ugh Crack Before the child soldier could even let out a scream, Black Mamba slammed his elbow into his face. His strength was enough to shatter a boulder. The child soldiers head cracked open; he trembled for a moment then collapsed. Fck, fck! He cursed at no one in particular. This was the middle of hell. How did I end up jumping into a world like this? Unsettling anger rose inside him. Kill them! Kill them! Like a drum, the words chanted in his head. As the gauge of his anger increased, a viciousness engulfed his entire body. Black Mamba turned red. The Parathropuss murderous instinct took over his mind. Black Mamba had his way with the war, and it almost revealed his godly state. A weasel entering a cage of chicks or a beagle jumping onto a bed could not have created more chaos than Black Mamba did now. Mustas army could not target Black Mamba who moved so fast that he seemed to be teleporting. A third of Mustas army had been sent to retraining. To make up for the loss, they filled their numbers using child soldiers. The brainwashed teens had lost their sense of fear. They insanely pulled the trigger and attacked head-on. Black Mamba got rid of them without a second thought. Johnson, 3 oclock position, 230 meters away. Mouris, 12 oclock position. Mike, 9 oclock position, 230 eters left of the boulder. The captain spouted order after order upon mapping out their positions. Lieutenant Paul was the commander of the war. He opened up the path for Black Mamba to go from place to place without threat. Dependable Captain! Black Mamba exclaimed. They made it possible for him to move around like a ghost as they diverted the enemys attention. The kukri was dyed in blood, and the Glock continued to spit out bullets. The Glock that Black Mamba was using was a new brand, created in 1981. It was inexpensive, able to harbor 17 bullets, compact, and dependable. It was a highly practical weapon. The Glock was created using the plastic capsule from Austria. It had previously been overlooked because of its plastic part, some thought it lacked finesse. The French, who had realized the usefulness of the Glock, immediately bought it for their army. Black Mamba was satisfied with the capability of the Glock. This gun is a murder weapon. The best gun was one that had the best ability to murder. There was no need for sophistication. Black Mambas thought coincided with that of the Glocks inventor. Ombuti trembled as he observed the war through his night-vision goggles. Black Mamba was like a deadly hurricane crashing through Mustas army. They couldnt even target him because he moved so quickly. The arteries cut by the kukri spewed blood. The soldiers whose spines had been broken from his kicks lay in grotesque positions with smashed pieces of brain spilling out from the cracked skulls, heads smashed in by rocks, and arms and legs splayed about apart from their bodies. It was hell. The bodies with bullet holes in their foreheads or on the back of their heads were the cleanest there. Ah! Azrael! Oh, Allah. Ombuti found himself praying without realizing it. He wiped his sweaty hands on his gandura. Watching the progression of the unrelenting warrior made him unable to breathe properly. The desert warrior did not forget his resentment. FROLINAT needed to be obliterated. Their enemy continued to ravage them in vengeance. Allahhu Akbar ha-da-apdal yaumin pi- haya-ti-duh ssuduh Black Mamba wa ssadi! (Allah is all-powerful. This is my lifes greatest day. Black Mamba is my master!) Ombuti stuck both his hands to his ears and bowed toward Black Mambo. He vowed to make Black Mamba his master for the rest of his life. The angel of death froze in his movements. Suddenly, the life in him dissipated. Black Mamba, after drenched in icy water, came back to his senses. What have I done? The ringing of gunshots in his ear stopped. He couldnt even remember how many he had killed. The revolting smell of blood hit him hard. Everywhere he looked, he saw numerous corpses lying around him. He saw the corpses with their heads bashed in and their chests collapsed. It was a repeat of the massacre at Mt. Bang Tae. If there was a difference, it was that he could kind of remember himself causing the havoc. He had charred five Glock magazines. The end of the kukri blade dripped blood. There were 20 who had been stabbed by its wrath. Am I human? Black Mamba stared at his blood-soaked hands. They were the hands which had touched the pure Hae Young and had patted the bottom of Hae Soon. They were the hands that had held his mothers breast and fell asleep, the hands that had meditated while hitting a moktak. The blood-soaked hands looked gruesome. How could I touch Hae Young with these hands? His teacher will go through a cleansing ritual for his apprentice drenched in blood. His heart was heavy, and the end of his nose burned. He sighed heavily and reoriented his corroded mind. What could he do? He had already run into the path of blood! And he knew that he had to be drenched in blood to protect his comrades. His fathers last request to take care of his mother had not been kept. It was because he had no power. Even if everything was tossed into chaos, he never wanted to lose anyone close to him ever again. Black Mamba flew up 5 meters and stood atop a boulder. He used his transportation skills. He mapped out the places where he sensed life. Now there was no life left around him. Even the smallest animals like the lizards had either fled or died. His comrades watched the scene through their night-vision goggles and trembled at the sight. The crescent moon shone onto the silhouette of a man standing atop a boulder. On one hand, he was holding a bloody kukri and, in the other, a gun. Through the night-vision goggles, the burning blue light in the darkness was none other than the devil. Devil! Burimer murmured. Everyone agreed with Burimers words. I cant believe it, Black Mamba! The captain sighed without realizing it. He could not calm his trembling heart. Even though he believed that the world held secrets that he would never understand, he still couldnt believe his eyes. There was no way a man who could kill 60 men with his bare hands was human! The number of men that Black Mamba had reached 150. It was impossible to not call him the devil. Black Mamba placed the bulletless Glock into his holster. Three or four guerrillas that were trying to escape fell as if they were dancing in a shower of bullets from his machine gun. Its over! Only 20 minutes had passed since he charged at the guerrilla forces like a rambunctious beagle. All clear. Let us return. Cest incroyable! (I cant believe it!) The captain didnt realize that drool was spilling down from his mouth. In the 20 years that he had been back and forth in war, he had never witnessed such a shocking battle. No, he couldnt even have imagined it. It was not a fight but a slaughter. It was an unimaginable holocaust. Burimer, report back after checking it out. Yes, sir. With expressions of fear, the rest of the team members crawled out of their bunker. In 1948, the term genocide was first defined. In 2000, it was recorded in the international criminal courts and described as the following: If a country or its leaders decide to attack citizens, nations, or ethnicities based on differences in religion, political, social or economic interest, gender, health, or region and a large population is affected by it, it was noted as a genocide. It was a plan to obliterate a population based on any of the above reasons. France, a powerhouse nation, had sent their agent, Black Mamba to target the special group, the FROLINAT, in the mission Rescue Raccoon that killed about 170 people and obliterated the entire population. This fell into the category of genocide. Black Mamba jumped off the boulder and collapsed onto the floor. Severe fatigue overtook him. Like cotton soaked in water, his body felt like it was sinking. Five hours had passed since his first kill. Even the great Black Mamba could not be immune to it. The once orange-brown uniform was blood red. Covered in blood and dust, he looked like a monster. He scratched his body through his clothes. The smell of blood was revolting, but the itching was driving him crazy. He was so exhausted, even scratching was tiresome. He threw off his clothes and rubbed his back against a rock until his skin was raw. Captain, Black Mamba is acting weird. Emil reported after seeing Black Mambas strange behavior. Oh dear, its war syndrome. Emil, bring a water bottle and follow me. The captain tore off Black Mambas clothes. Black Mamba, I am the baptizer. Prepare yourself to be released from your sins. His serious expression and tone of voice made it sound legitimate. Alright. Surprisingly, Black Mamba passively played along with this joke-like ritual. The captain stood in front of him with the thing between his legs dangling. Kneel. Emil lifted the water bottle and poured it over his head. The captain chanted like a pseudo priest. Black Mamba, this is a war baptism. You did not kill humans; you killed the enemy. The enemy is not human; they are just an enemy. The enemys blood has now been washed away by the waters of baptism. Your soul is cleansed. The captain uttered the nonsense as if he believed it. Oh! Im fine. Black Mamba shot up. The unexpected phenomenon caused him to speak with an accent. The insane itch disappeared as if it never happened. How? The captain prodded Black Mambas private parts and laughed. Haha, hes got good stuff. Its nothing to be worried about. You subconsciously received the psychological stress of a holocaust. The brain releases hormones to combat this pressure induced by murder. Thats what would have caused the itching. It happens sometimes during war. When you received the baptism, it caused a placebo effect. It stopped the flow of hormones and stopped the itching. He wasnt sure if there was proof or not, but it explained. Black Mamba exclaimed, Mon Dieu! Cest ve? (Wow, what in the world, is that true?) Oui, Cest ve! (Of course, its true). It was in Dr. Lauren Gieses dissertation. Pariss second universitys Dr. Lauren Giese? Black Mamba jumped in surprise. Giese was the person who he had saved at Mt. Bang Tae and she was a friend of his. The world was large yet small. Do you know Dr. Giese? I know she is a famous person. Not wanting to explain in detail, he answered the question ambiguously. He was so tired that he didnt even want to open his mouth. As his comrades were tidying up the war scene, he plopped down and couldnt move an inch. For 20 minutes, they pumped air into him. If he was a normal person, this would not have been enough. The sudden blast of air caused his muscles to stiffen. Bellman! Relieve Black Mambas muscles. The captain, having had a lot of experience, recognized Black Mambas condition immediately. Black Mambas first fighting initiation was a bloodbath. It was the emergence of the monster that his teacher had been worried about. After his muscles were massaged, he crawled into his sleeping bag and fell asleep. Hes on the move. Black Mamba opened his eyes. The cold air had woken him up. He opened his eyes and stared out blankly for a while then shook his head hard. The falling sunlight blinded him. His blurry vision started to focus. The captains gray and blue eyes were floating in front of him. Hows your condition? Good. Black Mamba took the water from the captain and drank it in, his Adams apple jumping furiously. The water was warm, but it brought back life into his body. How long was I out? Nine hours have passed. Hm! Nine hours? Black Mamba lifted his upper body in surprise. He had been dead asleep for nine hours. The psychological stress had been much greater than the physical one and had made a greater impact on his body. He ran away afraid his penis would fall off. Hahaha! The captain laughed without opening his mouth, his signature laugh. Chapter 34 As soon as the Ratel team finished cleaning up the battlefield, they left the scene as though their tails were about to fall off. Dragging their feet after finishing a battle would be like shoving their heads into an alligators mouth. Emil, where are we? Ombuti was the one who replied. Weve passed Shala. Well be arriving in Nadele soon. Weve reached the Kanem provinces border, then. Its as if weve jumped 110 miles. Black Mamba smiled freely as he checked his watch. Their battle had started around six in the evening and ended at midnight. By then, it was ten in the morning. The Captain and Ombuti were both surprised at Black Mambas words, which indicated that he had memorized the entire map. Ombuti crossed the dry ravine and held camp in the rough rocky regions. As an experienced guide, he found adequate campsites as quietly as a ghost. The Sahel region was full of wastelands, sparse wood, and small swamplands. There were some hills, valleys, and ravines, making the place advantageous to hide from the FROLINAT. The camp was on a large rocky mountain that towered over the valley like a building. It was geographically similar to the battle region at Uldi Hamarl. As long as they didnt create smoke, the possibility of being found seemed low. Everyone aside from the watch group, go to sleep. The team members who received the Captains orders placed themselves in a rocks shadow and burrowed into their sleeping bags. Everyone had shadows hanging under their eyes. Black Mamba stretched his body before searching for Emil. He felt like he was about to starve, as a strong wave of hunger had just hit him. Emil, Im hungry. Emil smiled as he threw three C-rations at him. Everyone in Deuxieme Rep knew about Black Mambas large appetite. Youre Black Mamba. You shouldnt be acting up just because youve been starved for one day. Ive heard that some snakes go months without eating. Im not a reptile, Im a mammal. Youre not a species of this Earth. Youre an alien who escaped from its planet, like if Darth Vader jumped out of Star Wars. Shut up. I noticed that weve been moving to the northeast while I was sleeping. Theres no reason to be attacked by the enemy while taking our time, after all. But Emil, why does everyone look so depressed? Emil hesitated before biting his lip. Sergeant Mark was killed. What? No way! Black Mamba was surprised. No one had said anything about their dead after the battle was over. His ears rang. It was the first casualty from their first battle. Mark, alongside Mike, was the best sniper in Deuxieme Rep. They had a dent in their forces without gaining even a glimpse of the raccoons tail. He froze completely. Humans were weak beings who died after being hit by a bullet smaller than a nail. There was no difference even when it was a child who was shooting the bullet. How? Neither we nor the captain figured it out until later. Sergeant Mark, who had an injury on his abdomens protective cover, was hunched over. Bell Man tried, but it was too late. He said the cause of death was shock from losing too much blood. Are you saying that he could have lived if it had been found sooner? Maybe! What was his partner, Sergeant Mike, doing? Rage flashed over Emils face. My words exactly! Hes the man who was drunk on blood even during survival training, so he probably went crazy. What fcking bstard! A strong glint of blue, like the eyes of a predator, gleamed in Black Mambas eyes. Partners existed to protect each others backs. Each filled in the others blindside and shared attacking and defending in turns. If Black Mamba began shooting, Emil had to throw his entire attention into his partners safety, to the point that he neglected his own. This also meant that Mike didnt even realize his partners poor situation. He was a useless b*stard. Ahh! Emil yelled lowly as he was exposed to the strong blood lust. Why are you surprised? He spoke a plain tone. Was I hallucinating? Emil tilted his head. He had suddenly imagined Black Mamba as some unfathomable predator, but when he looked once more, he was still his unchanging, trustworthy partner. They must have had a sniper. Sergeant Mark had been a first-rate sniper. Even if Mike didnt cover him, he wasnt so weak as to be done in by the guerrillas gunfire. Emil nodded. He was shot. The bullet went straight through his abdomen. Maybe if it had been Samura, but it was too much for Bell Man to treat. Emil glanced at his partner as he changed his words. He was scared of Black Mambas aura and felt like an unfortunate incident, like Sergeant Mike being beaten to his death, could occur. Anyone else? Miguel and Jang Shin have light injuries. Theres no problem there. Thats good. I can tell the Captain didnt tell me on purpose. Emil nodded. Black Mamba was the main strength of their team. He was their ace who swayed the flow of battle. The Captain had purposefully made them keep it a secret so that he could rest. Pretend as if you dont know until the Captain tells you. When everyones back and awake, well hold his funeral. We should put our own lives on the line in order to take others.'' His comrade had died, but he didnt feel much anger or sadness. The enemy might not have been human, but he had killed over ten of them. There was no telling as to whether he would one day be buried under the yellow sand himself. He didnt consider life or death too important. Ugh! Emil sighed at his vague words. The team members began to climb out of their sleeping bags when the sun began to set. Their first battle had given them much physical stress and mental fatigue after contact. Now, they looked better. Sleep was definitely the right prescription for relieving physical and mental stress. Sergeant Mark was temporarily buried in a tarp. The Captain began to tear up as he marked the bag. Mark, Im sorry. Ive buried you in this wasteland due to my incapability as a leader. Ill take you to your hometown as soon as possible, so hold on. That was what he said, but the possibility of Marks remains being delayed during transportation was high. Darkness rained down on the teams faces. They had a casualty when they hadnt even found the raccoons den. The fact that theyd annihilated the enemy didnt abate their sadness of losing their comrade. Look at him, acting pathetic, Emil whispered into Black Mambas ear. Sergeant Mike was wailing, with tears streaming down his face. You damn b*stard, Mark, you died because you didnt want to have your name confused with mine any longer, didnt you? Nice going. Whats Mark anyways? You died because of your name. That pathetic b*stard! The Captain sighed continuously in a corner to the side. He had protested Sergeant Mikes enlistment to the special forces by Lieutenant Colonel Pieff. He had predicted problems with the teamwork, and, as expected, there were many. He wondered how such a human had been promoted into a sergeant. Black Mamba stood up abruptly. He had held back, because he didnt want to disrupt the teamwork, but now, his insides were flipping from listening to that idiots mumbling. Black Mamba, dont. Emil held onto his sleeve, but his hand was thrown off. Black Mamba, who had been standing in front of him, was already in front of Mike. Smack Ugh. The mouth which had been saying nonsense was startled into a shout. Mike, who had been slapped harshly, twisted around before falling to the ground. Black Mamba looked around. He couldnt find anything that fit his beating criteria. Whats the point? I can use anything to catch a pig. He took out the supporting beam of a camping bed, a wooden beam around an inch and a half in diameter and seven feet in length. No one stopped Black Mamba. Fighting among comrades was an unspoken rule while going through plans. Mike was an exception. There was no mercenary who didnt suffer under Mikes sudden actions and speech. Everyones eyes shined with expectations and curiosity, as though they had predicted this would happen. The Captain moved far away, as though he was blind to what was happening. Black Mamba swung the wooden stick once through the air. Swoosh The sound of the air being sliced open rang out. The wooden stick bent as though it couldnt bear its own speed. Mikes face, which had been relaxed until then, turned white. He recalled the moment when he had nearly been beaten to death by Black Mamba. It was a nightmare where he had been hung upside down off a cliff by his ankles, watching the dark, swaying sea 230 feet below. B-Black Mamba, whats wrong with you?! Mike lowered his tail immediately. He couldnt even remember his rank. The only thought in his head was how he could die from being beaten. Black Mamba aimed at Mikes forehead with the tip of his stick. Mike, partners have to protect each others backs. Is the enemy or your partners back more important? Of course, my partner is more important, answered Mike immediately, frightened. Black Mamba was a fearsome guy. Mike felt as though the stick would crack his head open at any time. You trash b*stard, you didnt even know that your partner had died. I still killed over ten people. You idiot, 150 died by my hands. Emil was skilled enough to protect my back. Do you think Emil takes up the machine gun and forgets his partner when hes as skilled as you? Mike had much to say, but his mouth wouldnt open. He had blanked out at the sight of Black Mambas bloodthirsty blue eyes. I heard your nickname is the battlefields crazy b*stard. If you want to be crazy, be a good crazy. Ill engrave your partners importance into your body so that youll never abandon them again. When Black Mamba approached, Mike turned around and ran to the best of his abilities. There was nothing prideful about it. The only thing in his mind was his survival instinct. Ha! At the surprising situation, the team members face crumpled instantly. Even if Black Mamba was scary, this wasnt something a sergeant should do. Black Mamba, temporarily confused, planted his feet into the ground and pulled up a resonance from his lower stomach. Haap! The resonance that swirled once around his veins strengthened and poured out. The strong wave shook the entire unnamed valley in Sahel. Eep! Mikes heavy footsteps, running away, immediately stopped. His brain waves had lost their sense of direction after being disrupted by the resonance. His nerves froze as his brain failed to receive any signals. Black Mamba dragged the stick on the ground as he approached slowly. He had dredged up his entire strength to puke out the resonance wave, and the result was unsatisfactory. F*ck, seems like an unhanded impact is just a martial arts fantasy. He had barely managed to paralyze Mike. He hadnt shown much impact, aside from losing his strength. Mike could only roll his eyes around as his body was paralyzed. Black Mamba poked Mikes chest with the end of his stick. Pfft Cough, cough. Mike began to cough like mad after the paralysis wore off, regaining his stolen breath. He couldnt even tell what had happened. Black Mamba was a private. Sergeant Mike, who didnt know the authority bestowed on names, had to threaten Black Mamba with his rank, knowing he had to calm Black Mamba no matter what. Mike was a crazy b*stard, but he knew how precious his life was. No. Imma sergeant. If you it me, Ill make you stand in martial court. Whatever. Bang Bang Bang Black Mamba began to pummel Mike without a word. He used the All-Torture, which he had used to break Madam Jangs footman Lee. The wooden stick from the outdoor cot was rather good. It felt right in his hands. The All-Tortures main point was to apply pain similar to the persons limit, causing an increased illusioned sense of pain. It was a strong torture method that increased pain continuously. The person on the receiving side had no choice but to wait for the pain despite knowing there would be blows. It was hard to maintain ones sanity under such tension and fear. Kuuagh, kuuuh! A desperate shout echoed across the Sahels night sky. Mike rolled around in order to avoid the blows, but it was no use. The wooden stick fell on him without fail. The pain streaked across his head and twisted his spine. His nerves screamed every time a blow fellhe couldnt even faint. Mike begged God, Allah, and Buddha to make him lose consciousness. Even the team members who were watching on slowly lost the color in their cheeks. This b*stards a devil. Hes not human. Mike was anguished. He preferred death instead. It hadnt even been three minutes, but the shouts had died down. Mike was covered in nose drippings, saliva, and sweat. He couldnt even roll any longer and remained curled up, twitching occasionally. Mike finally fainted during All-Tortures first stage. Chapter 35 This b*stard has less guts than Mr. Lee. A spineless coward acting up, Black Mamba murmured in Korean. Contact-based martial arts were composed of three parts. The first part provoked pain, the second disrupted the muscles, and the third ruined the nerves. Not even Black Mamba himself could withstand all three. In order to recover from the second and third parts ruptured muscles and nerves, one needed the Higashi Hongan-jis secret highly-priced protective solution. A normal person would lose their mind or become mentally disabled by the end of the first part. Mike, if you lose your partner one more time, youll die. Youll die like a tortured dog. Uhh, I-I understand. Mike barely managed to reply by attempting to move his jaw, which refused to open. Only the fact that he could be hit again if he didnt reply made him move his mouth. Black Mamba threw the wooden stick away and sent a silent nod towards the Captain. He had beaten the sergeant without permission from the teams leader. It was a blow to the Captains leadership. Sergeant Paul pretended as though he hadnt seen it at all. The other team members silently lifted their thumbs. Bell Men poked a nerve-treatment injection into Mikes still form on his thigh. Emil and Jang Shin then moved the unconscious man to the tent. As expected of Azrael! Ombuti had watched Mikes pathetic beating from the beginning. A corner of Ombutis mouth started to rise; he felt avenged. A private beating up a sergeant wasnt a sight he would see again. The Captain looked around at his team. Yesterday, we lost our competent comrade, Mark. Ill add another course to the SERE program about overcoming sadness. Mark would want us to finish our mission well. We must change our sadness and anger into courage in order to complete this mission. Weve finished five hours of battle and been on the run for ten hours. Everyone must want to eat even the foulest hyena. Jang Shin, make an Addax barbeque, and Burimer, bring the Cap Corse. Theres a Korean saying that says youre brave to die after eating. Lets all die after eating. Yeaaaah! After the Captains speech, everyone began to shout. Oh ho, look at that man talk. He could stand on the national council, Chartres exclaimed. What a boring joke. Even if I die, I wouldnt want to die by a metal farming stick. The Captain managed to overhear the conversation with his sharp ears. During the French Revolution, angered farmers had charged into the council with their pitchforks. The nobles and council members of the bourgeois on the receiving end suffered deaths by pitchfork. They had found an Addax while cleaning up the battlefield at Uldi Hamarl. It was a large one, over 220 pounds. It was the Musta scouts misfortune to have met such a cruel opponent. A place to party had turned into a community graveyard due to the coincidence. Miguel and Emil dragged the Addax along, breathing harshly, while Burimer took out the wine box. Oh, Cap Corse! Chartres brightened, ever the wine fanatic. Cap Corse was an appetizer drunk specifically at 59 degrees, a Corsican specialty. The production of Cap Corse was complicated. First, the grape juice had to be wrung out and fermented. The remaining grape peels were gathered at 104 degrees to create a distilled beverage. The distilled beverage was then added to the grape juice to stop the fermentation. There, they added herbs and medicinal plants, then continued fermenting for another three months to create the sweet and bitter taste of wine. They released the wine after six months of bottling. Cap Corse wasnt well known and was only produced in small amounts. It was usually spread across southern Europe by boat. It was beloved to the point that if someone in southern Europe didnt know Cap Corse, they werent considered a true drinker. Jang Shin came forth to demonstrate Mongolian barbeque. He was a studying chef who dreamed of opening his own restaurant in An-hui City after his mercenary contract ended. His friends helped him create a hole in the ground and gather rocks to lay on the bottom. They built a tower of fire with dry twigs. The rocks heated, and by the time the coals began to spit embers, they had placed the leaf-wrapped Addax on top, covering it with sand. The thick smell of roasting meat smoked out of the open vent Jang Shin had poked in the ground. The team began to drool, hungry after long hours of intense batting and running. There was no one who cared about Mike remaining on the outdoor cots. Three days passed from the beginning of their mission. Their rations had decreased gradually day by day. Even the sadness of losing a comrade was placed on the back burner due to their hunger. Even mourning had to be done on a full belly. This was an undisputed genetic factor that came with the first priority of survival. Jang Shin pushed the dirt away by the time the smoke stopped and pulled out the Addax. Woah! shouted the mercenaries. The well-roasted smell of meat made their senses happy. Black Mamba dug into some with his knife. How good! Ooh la la! When Black Mamba raised his thumb, everyone else raised theirs. Jang Shins face turned into one of pride. He was now engraved in the teams memories as someone more than an explosives soldier. It was rock-roasted meat with salt and pepper. There was no sauce or spices, but the ghouls who were held back ran forward like hyenas. Black Mamba also became greasy from holding and gnawing away at a rib. The living had opened a barbeque party in the middle of a bloodied land of the dead. It was the way humans survived in the cursed, black land of Sahel. No. It was a universal human way of survival. Herds of lions, including fathers, mothers, and children, bumped into each other while trying to tear at muscle and internal organs during their successful buffalo hunts. On one side of the chaos was an aunt lion who had her belly ripped open by a buffalos horn, breathing out her last breath. Survival consisted of battles. The dead were unable to participate, forgotten. There was nothing different about humans. They were eaten if weak, and left behind when fatigued. They lived in the same world. The amount of blood in a protein meal was within 40 percent. This was the same for even-toed mammals with hooves. Pigs, who had small legs, were over 50 percent blood. 88 pounds of meat were enough to satisfy ten peoples appetites. The team members who filled their bellies went back to sleep. They were sleeping so that they could move at dawn. Black Mamba, who slept to his fill, woke up and volunteered for first guard. The Captain attempted to stop him, but he stubbornly went off. A crescent moon shaped like a scimitar rose in the sky. The empty land and crescent moon, the short howls of hyenas, and the ringing winds were present in the desert night. Black Mamba was standing on top of a 20-foot stone pillar. It was the best place to watch all sides. At the same time, it was the best place to be shot, too. When a person had nothing to do, that person turned to stray thoughts. Stray thoughts increased especially during silence. When moving scenery was added, emotions ran wild, whether that was for better or worse. The deaths of those young guerrilla soldiers clung to his mind more than his teammate Marks death. They had barely been over ten years old. He kept recalling their blank gazes, the same eyes as his friends who were involved in the explosion at his hometown bridge. Eyes without light, thin arms and legs, frizzy dry hair, and the protruding ribs seemed to hold onto his consciousness for a longer period of time. Black Mamba, are you on guard? A gun clicked. It was Sergeant Chartres, explosives and RPG-7 launcher expert. Chartres, who had enrolled in the Legion Etranger during his doctorate program at Paris Second University, was the oldest out of all the team members at the age of 36. Chartres was also in the same 4th company, 2nd platoon, and 1st squadron, like Black Mamba, who was his best friend. Most mercenaries were fakes or had particular personalities. Chartres always insisted that he was a reincarnation of Sartre, an extensional philosopher. He also said that his father had named him Chartres after dreaming of Sartre before he was born. Of course, everyone thought of it as a joke, because Chartres was a history major. No one knew why he became a mercenary to the point of deceiving his own nationality. The Legion Etranger couldnt dig into a persons past as long as the individual didnt reveal it. The mercenaries didnt reveal their pasts as much as their dark histories. There were many mercenaries who hid their real names and only used nicknames. Oh, Chartres! Black Mamba jumped down from the top of the rock. Seem like youre alive, considering how youre thinking so much. I thought you were dead since you werent moving. Chartres committed a crime by twisting Sartres famous words. Black Mamba caught the hip flask Chartres threw. Gee, Sciacarello! The moment he opened the flask, the unique sweet smell of Sciacarello, famous red wine, swelled up. Chartres looked at Black Mamba as if he was looking at his younger brother. Cap Corse is too rough and sour. I like Sciacarello, too. Drink up. Black Mamba enjoyed Sciacarello more than the high-quality wine from the retirement village. Chartres, who was an alcohol lover, enjoyed strong vodka, but he had purposefully brought Sciacarello with him. Aaah! Black Mamba drank to the point that his adams apple moved, then burped out refreshingly. Chartres immediately smiled. Ha, its my first time seeing someone burp from wine instead of vodka. Who would call you a mad dog when they see you like this? Mad dog! Who said that? He had never imagined he would be called a loose screw back in Africa. The comrades who saw Black Mambas fight yesterday called you that. Damn, and Chartres is one of them. Well, considering their reactions, mad dog was the nickname. How did you know? A philosopher knows everything. Ha. Yeah, right. Cheers to that. Black Mamba handed the flask to Chartres. The old and young mercenary sat together and shared the wine. Men felt camaraderie by simply sharing their alcohol. They were also pathetic animals who solidified their friendship with drunk ramblings. Do you feel weighed down? Youre exuding a dark aura. Chartres, I want to kill every guerrilla leader. Ive killed tens of children who havent even grown beards. Theyre children who should be eating dinner with their families and playing with others their age. What the hell is wrong with this country? Chartres also became depressed. Were soldiers. Dont read too much into it. Theres a Chinese saying: What disturbs us is not the mountain afar but the small pebble in our shoes. Just thinking about how to survive makes my head hurt. Theres no reason to waste your energy on something thats already happened. Just shake that pebble out of your shoe. Sigh, I dont know. Im angry, but I dont feel guilty. Thats what make me more confused. Thats an exemplar attitude for a soldier. This mission is already my third. I was also sent to Chad, here, three years ago. It was a civil war between Goukouni and Makumbo. At that time, a public massacre happened at NDjamena, causing thousands of civilians to die. Black Mamba recalled the Chad civil war he read during his speed reading. There had been over a million people who died in NDjamena due to the civil war. Is there a reason to create a genocide between citizens of the same country just to grasp power? The citizens themselves are starving and dont have access to clean water. I was speechless when I looked around the streets of NDjamena. To think that theyd fire at each other when their people were begging on the streets. Chartres stifled his laughter. Wasnt Black Mamba also from a country that raised a civil war between their own kind? Didnt Korea create a genocide of their own? A huge war that resulted in 20,000 soldiers deaths? Youre still aiming guns at each other trying to gain an advantage. Damn, it really isnt the time to be criticizing other people. Black Mamba laughed cynically. The Korean War may be an ideological war, but Chad is different. Chad is one of the poorest countries among third-world countries, with the highest illiteracy rate in the world. Stupid citizens are easier to drag about than a horse on a leash. Its a war created by the smaller upper echelon who are using the citizens. And of course, those who are called leaders are those who want more power and wealth. Haha! Chartres also laughed cynically. The man called Makumbo who the Ratel team had come to save was the dirty man Black Mamba had spoken of. Were nothing more than hands and feet. Were not in a position where we can discuss politics. Soldiers do nothing but follow orders. Your excuses and mine come from our positions as soldiers. Soldiers arent humanswere tools. Black Mamba nodded. He hadnt understood everything due to his language skills which fell short, but he understood the core message. It meant that a leaders greed and the citizens stupidity caused a civil war. This was also the reality in Korea. He agreed with the fact that soldiers were tools. As expected, Chartres was someone he could learn from, as knowledgeable as he was. Is it impossible for them to become a democratic state? Most African countries gained their independence after World War II. Most of these countries are constructed so that one tribes leader holds more power and sway over the rest of the tribes. This means that they dont have the notion of a party leader at all. There are only political enemies whom they must kill. A change in political power only means the flooding of blood. Its easier to think of ruling in Africa as a one-party power in government. Theres no foundation for a democratic state. The same goes for Chad. For a democratic government to take hold where competition and power balances come from the tribes equal political sway, not even a hundred years would help the matter. Chartres spoke like a judge who was declaring judgment on a sinner. Black Mamba felt like refuting Chartres opinion. If everything was as Chartres said, that meant there were only better tribes within Africa. Arent you looking down on Africa too much? The unstable power balance was born from the western powers who colonized Africa. The western powers caused friction between the tribes in order to have a better grasp of their colonies before they robbed them. The European powers plundered Africa and stole their opportunities for education. At Black Mambas refute, Chartres smiled. The most mercenary-like mercenary, yet at the same time, the unlikeliest mercenary of mercenaries, was Black Mamba. Chapter 36 I cant say it doesnt matter at all, but we have larger internal problems. Under Japanese colonization, Korea lost not only its economys politics but also its culture. Despite that, Korea managed to achieve political stability and economic growth, even after a devastating civil war. Chartres knew about Koreas situation, as was expected of a history major. Koreas political stability? Black Mamba tilted his head. They had a government that sent airborne forces to suppress its citizens protest movements, a government that aimed machine guns at its citizens. A protest group that threw broken cement blocks was responded to with aggressive police who threw down tear gas and metal bats. The same country that had tortured normal students and citizens to insanity was his home country, Korea. His friend, Kim Young Dong, had also become mentally retarded due to the torture. His country greeted and ended the day with the sound of their combat soldiers footsteps moving in lines, accompanied by the sound of protest groups who screamed their chants. His country was the one who greeted their foul-looking president every evening at nine. Black Mamba had left his hometown because he couldnt stand the sight any longer. He left his hometown because of the corrupted public power. How could there be political stability when the political reality was so dark?! Its already been 200 years since France had its revolution. Not even 40 years have passed in Korea. You can consider it a rite of passage into democracy. Well, the nobility and Japan messed up Korea after all. Black Mamba agreed. The upper echelon who stood for Chinese ideals and pro-Japanese factions had robbed them of their national pride. Theres one phrase I engraved in my heart while I was studying history. Its what you worked for will become yours. Theres nothing that comes for free in international relationships. What is earned through others can easily be taken away. Koreas resistance movement is a prime example. People like Lee Seung Man always lean on outside powers to gain their independence, leaving aside several thousand of his own people. I dont like Koreas terminology for its resistance movement. Why isnt it a resistance war, instead of a resistance act?! In the end, Korea achieved its independence thanks to the united countries. The result of that is its current division. Damn! Black Mamba felt ashamed to the point that his face heated up. Korea was the outer land attached awkwardly at Asias eastern end, a country that remained apart from the worlds flow. Chartres knew Koreas exact history despite being a mercenary. This was the difference between educated and uneducated. The only person who tried to achieve independence by using outside forces was Lee Seung Man. It was the overall public opinion that pushed Lee Seung Man into the presidency, so you can say most were in agreement. An undeniable refute countered his awkward excuse. He wanted to argue but didnt have anything to say. He wanted to chew out France, but he didnt know anything in-depth and didnt speak the language very well. He felt as though he was being crushed by a stronger person. Damn, whats the point of having a strong body if the heads empty. Black Mamba sighed internally. How nice would it be if his head had also become amazing alongside his body! Korea has a homogeneous ethnicity and high education. Even the politicians save their own hides under the citizens criticism. Korea will soon become a first world country. Africa is different from Korea. The people in power dont care about the citizens opinions. Once they come into power, they only care about their own tribes. Theyre b*stards who commit genocide on their own people because their tribes differ. Because their focus still remains on tribal concepts instead of national concepts, the future is dark. The big problem Africa faces is blurred boundaries, poverty, and the illiteracy rate. Are you saying that Europe isnt responsible for the current situation? Thats not it. Of course, the responsibility lies with Europe. Current African traditions that have continued also have many problems. For example, the national funds being used under the name of saving Africa are being invested in cotton, cocoa, and coffeecrops that are exported. Individual farming businesses are extremely neglected. Every crop thats funded from national funds is exported. Most of the paid fees from exportation go back in the hyenas and the small upper societys pockets. All the farmers get are the leftovers. Individual farming businesses are nothing more than shoe polishers working at the nations foundation. Reality only fills the bellies of those in power. Natives cant escape poverty. I feel like the national budget is only another method of stealing Africas money by taking advantage of peoples low incomes. So in the end, this is about corrupted power. If clean power goes in, wouldnt the situation change for the better? Chartres laughed with a twisted smile. Hahaha! A clean government in Chad! Expect a tusk from a boar instead. Even if they want to come clean, everything theyve done until now will hold onto their ankles. Africa is suffering from chronic capital outflow. Any capital input immediately goes back out. The euro is its representative. Most of Africas euros are in possession of western powers. Basically, the money they earn from selling oil is given to the western powers in rations. Even if those in power keep their integrity, Africa still has to work to the bone and repay its debts, plus interest. They cant build their own capital. Cotton is basically oil for Chad. You could say Chads future is as dark as their skin. Wouldnt the situation become better if a godlike leader appeared to unite the tribes? You could say that itll be hard as long as the national consciousness remains in tribal units. Ive worked in Korea as a researcher for a year. Koreans are always hard-working and prideful in their work. Its to the point that their fervor for education burns them out. Education is the core working force of a countrys development. I believe that Koreas the only country that can catch up to Japan as a developing country. Huh! I left Korea because I didnt like it. I was kicked around by power and people. The country he was born in, the country he loved but couldnt like, was Korea. He laughed tonelessly at Chartres praise of it. Black Mamba, if you generalize an individual experience, you get stuck in a narrow frame of mind. You and I are members of the same squadron and friends. You may be the best soldier, but youre too young and pure to dirty with so much blood on your hands. Sometimes passion blinds young people. Its not good to wash your hands in blood. I really want to encourage your return to your studies. Sigh, thanks for your advice. I want to study again, too. Black Mamba sighed automatically, but Chartres words had ripped the scab off his old wound. I also find Africas reality unfortunate. Koreas strongest advantage is its single national ethnicity. As Ive said before, Chad doesnt have national pride; they only have tribes. Northern Arabs used southern Africans as slaves for a long time, with abuse. The hatred and grudge between them make unification impossible. The northern Arabs still think of southern Africans as slaves, but all of Chads economy is gathered in the south. What do you think will happen? There wont be an end to their hatred, jealousy, and envy. Yes, their relationship will worsen. Itd be better for the country to break apart. Hmph, you wouldnt be saying that if you hadnt regained Normandy and Flanders from England after the 100 Years War! Black Mamba laughed at Chartres inwardly. He was surprised at Chartres knowledge, but it was hard to agree with him. Africas internal conflict, from Black Mambas point of view, was created from the western countries power struggle. If they hadnt placed the borders to their liking, the tribes conflicts wouldnt have increased. Chartres found Africas situation unfortunate, but he only had crocodile tears. He, too, couldnt step out of his countrys viewpoint. If his country, France, was divided or under German rule, he wouldnt have been able to say the same. He found Chartres opinions uncomfortable, but couldnt argue due to his lacking knowledge and language skills. Chartres rummaged through his bag and pulled out a cigarette case. In the case was a cigar as thick as his pinky. Chartres sliced the end of the cigar off and gave it to him. Its a COHIBA SIGLO, Cuban tobacco. It was a little expensive. Expensive? I see. Black Mamba was still unable to leave his country-style mind behind. At the explanation of its expensiveness, he immediately lit his own. The thick smell of well-fermented tobacco leaves rose from the cigar. He had learned how to smoke and drink when he served at night. It was cigarettes he had forgotten about as he trained under his master. He breathed in a waft deeply, and his head spun. Good! Chartres also lit his cigarette. The two sat together and smoked without a word. Smoking was forbidden for snipers, because the smell was obvious and spread too far. Both knew this fact, but both ignored it. Black Mamba, youre not someone who should be in this place. Dream greater, think larger, Chartres emphasized once more. Chartres, thank you for your advice. Please understand, my French is lacking. Were friends and comrades. Theres no respectful language in French. Ill say this again, but were just tools. Dont think about it too much. Those b*stards are people whove killed innocent locals. Theyre our enemies, beasts. Those young soldiers are killing machines who lost their humanity. Its unfortunate, but theres no need to become attached. Youll see the reality of it soon. Will I be able to return to a normal life? Black Mamba raised both of his hands and smelled them. The smell of blood was strong. It was a deal engraved in his soul. Dont worry. The most acclimatizing beings on Earth are humans. Chartres patted Black Mambas shoulders and went down the hill. The smell of sour cigarettes filled his empty place. Chartres had come to find him despite his tiredness. He felt warm at his camaraderie and had lessened his burden with their long conversation. He felt as though a large, comforting hand was on his shoulder. Sahels night sky was vibrant. The stars filled the sky as if to make up for the dim moonlight. His past and current connections with others rumbled in his mind underneath the stars, which looked as if they were about to fall. The unstoppable feelings were blown away along with the cigar smoke. He had forgotten about the stench of blood due to Chartres engaging conversation. What was the point of crying crocodile tears?! Far away, the high and low growls and shouts of wild animals fighting over their feed echoed. The high-pitched sounds were the prey, while the low-pitched howling were the carnivores. A world in which creatures ate and killed each other, this was the world they lived in. Chartres advice of cleaning up his mercenary life and beginning the path of a student brought hundreds of thoughts. The night sky above the bridge was too bright, making it sad instead. He ate his mothers meal to his fill and laid on his fathers handmade table to stare at the sky. Who would have seen this many stars in the night sky while on duty?! Who would have seen the white milky way filling the night?! It was a dream and a story. Mom! The word, which had a hundred meanings, caught in his throat like a blown-up balloon, barely escaping. He, who liked to play among the forests river and trees, was unable to escape its charm easily. He returned home late often, even when he knew he should return earlier. His attempt to return home secretly was always found out by his mother. You little brat! His mother, with a shovel in hand, blocked his path like a ghost. The shovel was nothing but a threat. His mother always wrapped her playful son up in her skirt and led him to the kitchen. When she opened the metal pot, a cast iron pot used to make soup, soup and warm rice in the same shape as the eggs in a birds nest always awaited him. Sometimes, there were warmed sweet potatoes, too. Son, if you keep running around at night, the ghost will take you away. If youre late again, Mom will really hit you, okay? His mothers non-threatening voice rang by his ears. His chest twinged with love for his mother, Jin Soon, and Hae Young, the attachments of his past and pure youth. Wailing wasnt the only way to grieve. This was the type of sadness that solidified in his chest like a hard rock, deep inside. He had become an adult without any chance to cry. The night sky in Sahel was ten times brighter than the sky above the bridge. The child had become an adult, but his story wasnt over. The one stream of bright light streaked across the night sky. The sound of air whipping around rang across the Sahel night. Was it the sound of the little princes night flight? The stars sparkled due to fusion reactions. They were gassy masses that produced high-mass elements. Even if he knew the truth, a fairy tale was still a fairy tale. His master hadnt been wrong when he had said ones stream of consciousness followed ones heart. His heart had stopped at the age of eight, without enough leisure to grieve. The temperature dropped accordingly with the nights progression. The stars became colder. The moonlight, too, turned cold. The stars began to approach him the colder they became. He felt as though he could grasp them if he jumped high enough. All the possible zodiacs had gathered. One meteor shower covered half of the southern sky and streamed down. One strand of the night sky brightened as though fireworks had been set off. It was the type of majestic beauty that no artist would be able to capture. There was no other word to describe the sight other than majestic. He was moved, feeling as though he was seeing the mystery of the Earths beginning. He could only feel envious of the little princes poetic descriptions. It was the humans who lived in Sahel who were cruel, not nature. Nature simply existed. The humans who entered its grace were the ones who hated, despaired, and fought. Humans were struck by famine, destroyed by grasshoppers, and died under armed militaries guns, but the night sky remained beautifully cold. Sahel was pure. Sahel was transparent. He recalled his masters saying that things that could be seen by the eye were unimportant. This was true. He felt touched by Sahels night. The purity, transparency, and coldness could be seen with his minds eye. The deserts shining night sky relieved the burden on his shoulders. Chapter 37 How small and insignificant mans existence was compared to the great mysteries of the universe! Defilement, as heavy as Mt. Sumi, melted like the filtering of light through the break of dawn. The night sky by the bridge was what he missed from home, and Corsicas night sky beautiful. The Sahels night sky was of great magnificence. Black Mambas mind slowly crept from his current consciousness into the world of his deep subconscious. He forgot his grievances, his task, the devastating fighting, himself, and the night sky. Only a deafening silence and great solemness remained. The solemness was so great that he couldnt describe how it circulated through his veins and gave him a sense of electrifying happiness. His body started to tremble like a wave, an alarm that rang through his entire body. The inner trembling began to show itself outward. Whoosh His surroundings started to reawaken his senses. Ten meters away, a brown scorpion moved as if it was dancing, a beetle, afraid it would get caught hiding, waited with bated breath, 100 meters away a horned adder dug itself beneath the sand, farther still several hyenas lingered, and underneath the hard ground, seeds tried to grow roots. It was the continuance of natures frail existence. He had reached the stage where he could sense things not with his eyes but directly with his brain. It was like an impossible, intuitive sixth sense. He felt a sense of fulfillment and humility as he became one with the world. Only when he embraced Hae Young, had he felt such fulfillment and humility. He shuddered. His consciousness became keener. He hehehehe His ears were pierced with a high pitched sound like a crazy woman laughing. Ugh! Black Mambas meditation was broken. The rippling effect that had been flowing through his body quickly disappeared. Next, a throbbing headache rushed in. His head felt immensely heavy. It was enough to make him lose his sight for a moment. A heavy disappointment flowed through him. He missed the chance to feel the great connection with nature that his teacher had told him about. Because of his oncoming headache, he could not concentrate anymore. There was nothing left but regret. F*ck! Black Mamba glared with angry eyes at the place from where the sound came. In the distance, he felt two dark silhouettes and four red flames heading toward him. They were hyenas. He slowly grabbed Dragunov. Those wretched creatures had interrupted him and caused his trance to be broken. He had lost his chance to feel the extent of the resonance. What! You must be joking. Before he pulled the trigger, he put down the gun. The smaller one was riding on top of the bigger one. Female hyenas are larger than the males. He was not so merciless as to shoot a creature during their mating. Damn, just my luck! He lamented. Based on what his teacher had told him, it was difficult to come to a big epiphany even once in life. The deserts magnificence and euphoria disappeared. There was only the discomfort his body now felt. His uniform was wet with sticky sweat. There was no water around him for him to wash up. He missed the clear streams of Mt. Bang Tae dearly. Chartres assumption that instinct overpowered ideology was correct. Humans had the seed inside them to be like gods, but their innate characteristics were closer to an animals. His existence was being molded by his experiences and learning. What he will become and what will happen no one could know, not even God. There was no point in determining ones destiny, and there was no point in contemplating existence. Ombuti, stop staring at me with those seductive eyes. Ha! Wakil. At the sudden sound, Ombuti jumped in surprise. Black Mamba, who had been far away just a moment ago, suddenly was smiling slyly next to him. I was worried because you hadnt come back for so long. Thanks. Our comrades are getting tired. You are a unique person. You were on guard all night, and you arent tired? All night? Black Mamba checked the skies and was slightly surprised. Stars had already started to disappear. A lot of time must have passed when he had been in his trance. A warrior only engages in fights. He does not do other menial tasks. Black Mamba is the manifestation of Azrael, but he volunteered to do all sorts of random tasks. Black Mamba was a unique character that Ombuti couldnt understand. For me, it was a good time that I would never be able to experience again. Thank you for your concern. Of course. A servant must take care of his owner. Whether Black Mamba accepted it or not, in Ombutis case, it was required. The old Tuareg warrior and Korean mercenary left a faded shadow as the last of the sunlight disappeared. It was the fourth day of the operation. Northern Chad, the Sahel belt, was characterized by steppes, badlands, and desert. Summer, which is March through June, could reach temperatures of 40 degrees Celsius even under shade. On the other hand, November through February had drastic temperature fluctuations between night and day. At night, it would reach -10 degrees Celsius then rise to 30 degrees Celsius in the day. The temperature difference was a surprising 25 degrees Celsius. In the Sahel area, an estimated 200 millimeters of rainfall would come per year. Between July to October, there would be a short bout of rain, but any time other than that, one couldnt even see a drop of rain. For five years, it had been in a drought. All the vegetation withered and turned yellow. It was difficult to find fresh greens. Team Ratel had entered the Sahel in October. This was when the heat had drastically decreased, but the varying temperature difference was the problem. Almost all the mercenaries caught a cold. Only Black Mamba with his strengthened physique and the native Ombuti were fine. After getting some rest, the mercenaries were able to make a full recovery. As mercenaries, death was always near them. Deep in their hearts, they buried the anger and sadness of losing their comrades. When Black Mamba returned early in the morning, the captain led the group to avoid the days heat. God damn! Emil had been leading the group and pounded the steering wheel with his fist. The moment their pickup truck fell into a pothole, a tire blew out. It was already the second time this happened. The thick tires meant for the desert still could not withstand bone shards. As they traveled farther north, they slowed immensely. There were heavily dried tree stumps, sharp boulder edges, and animal bones that threatened the state of the tires. Emil, cant you do it properly? The captain raised his fist and shook it. When the pickup halted to a stop, the captain crashed his head into the rim of the window. A single strand of blood flowed down his forehead. Emil glanced over at him with a grim expression. Inhuman punk. The captain muttered. Inertia did not affect Black Mamba. Even with the sudden braking, he sat peacefully in his straightened position. Having shouted out in anger, he was the only one who became a spectacle. Ombuti stared at Black Mamba, his eyes filled with respect. When Black Mamba was not holding the Dragunov and kukri, he looked as peaceful as if he was a praying Imam. It was surprising that such an explosive wildness could inhabit such a pretty face and frail-looking body. Ombuti burst out laughing upon seeing Mike beaten to a pulp. Emil, is Black Mamba a private? Thats correct. Can a private beat on the sergeant? Its possible for Black Mamba. Isnt that not allowed? I dont know. Black Mamba is a special case. True. Ombuti nodded his head. Black Mamba was special. There was nothing he couldnt do once he put his mind to it. He was Azrael. Is Sargent Mike alright? At Ombutis question, Emil pointed at the pickup truck. Mike was observing the surroundings with a pair of binoculars. He looked fine. He likes to make a fuss. Yesterday he flailed around like a pig kicked by a camel, but he seems perfectly fine now. I can see that, too. Ombuti and Emil were oblivious. The two of them considered Mikes deep wound a mere exaggeration of pain. Mike, who had been severely beaten by Black Mamba, was extremely subdued. He started to show signs of paranoia and would suddenly tremble or look around frantically with wide eyes. He didnt talk much and didnt cause fights with the other comrades. This was normal behavior from someone beaten to their senses. Black Mamba was neither in a trance nor falling asleep. He was trying desperately to recreate the sensation he had felt the day before. Having experienced it once, he knew that this mysterious sensation was different than his normal intuition. Even without being conscious of it, he could feel the small breathing of a bug. It was a power that could not only allow him to see the things around him, but it also let him sense the presence of things that could not be felt by normal humans. Hm, its not working. He tried with all his might to summon the feeling again, but the special world did not open up to him. All he could do was heighten his senses a bit more. He gave it up for the moment. It was not something he could force. When he opened up his heart, the surrounding scenery came into view. The grassland and crops had been massacred by the passing of grasshoppers. The barely surviving grass and trees were wiped out from the drought. Even the roots had fallen apart and were left dry as a bone. Along the way, they saw remnants of baobab trees, acacia trees, bramble, and eucalyptus. It was why they called a grasshopper invasion a plague. After passing through the path of obstacles, the pickup truck sped forward. Red laterite is clay that stays heated, doesnt break apart easily, and leaves behind minerals and aluminum that create its orange color. It did not contain many nutrients and was bad for growing crops. Particles of it covered the windshield in an instant. The wipers had been working hard to scrape them off but suddenly halted to a stop. The motor had been burnt out by overuse. Crap, this place is a mess. Emil scraped at the dust as he muttered. The presence of laterite sand revealed that this area used to be a tropical forest. According to scholars, the Sahara Desert had harbored a flowing lake and vast forests 6000 years ago. The Sahel had weather like the Savannah. Depending on the location, some places received 500 millimeters of rain. With that amount, growing crops can be possible. There were other reasons besides the weather that the Sahel was turning into a desert. The spreading of the desert was mainly caused by ecosystem destruction. It was due to an increase in livestock and people that destroyed vegetation. The livestock ate all the vegetation, and the increase of plowed land made it impossible to recover from the destruction. As a consequence, it became infertile and started to become a desert. The drought was making the situation worse. Laterite sand became hard after losing its moisture from the harsh sunlight and dry winds. The dried land could not soak up moisture even when it rained. Even if a seed would sprout, it could not let down its roots. If vegetation could not put down its roots, then the desert spread that much faster. It was a vicious cycle. They traveled in ease only for a moment. The road was a mess. It was practically impossible to call it a road anymore. There were potholes, stones, and debris everywhere. There were places where the path was gone altogether. There were remnants of a road, but it was not an actual road. At any time, they would need to turn into engineers. Drenched in sweat, they would have to fill the holes using shovels and push and pull the car to get it out. Five or six people had to put in their efforts to do so. Black Mamba missed the unpaved, new roads from his hometown. Although unpaved, people took care of the new roads. The government had set it up so that different towns would manage the roads, and the citizens would care for it. The coordinators assigned the town leader a date, and one member per family would come out with a colander and tools to become a day worker. Black Mamba had always been the one chosen within his uncles household. The morning bell has rungA new day has come It was the song he had heard repetitively while he lugged stone with the colander. The heartbreaking memory came back to him as a fond reminiscence. Two days passed, and Team Ratel was near Cortaro. In two days, they had traveled a mere 160 kilometers. Because of the harsh conditions and horrific state of the roads, they could only travel about 20-30 kilometers per hour. Taking so many detours had eaten up a lot of their time. Even the captain who was accustomed to Africa shook his head in defeat. In areas where the road was marked, 70 percent of them were not navigable. Whoever passed through had to deal with mud, wadi, pebbles, and boulders to arrive in the badlands. Plus, they were bombarded by hoards of flies and mosquitoes. The mercenaries were getting extremely stressed. Once they traveled into Borkou from Kanem, the vegetation became drastically different. If Kanem was closer to the steppes, the Borkou was closer to the desert. The temperature increased. The team lost its will to fight or handle the temperature changes. Chapter 38 Cortaro was Borkous oasis. East of the Bodl lowlands, the first city they met was Kanem province. It was 100 kilometers away. The northwest province went from NDjamena to Barilga and was connected to Cortaro. Unlike Kanem province, Borkou was the FROLINATs front yard. Team Ratel wandered around Mondo, a city in Kanem province, traveling for four days over 1000 kilometers. It was as if they had fought for their lives then ran into the gators mouth. Captain Paul commanded them to stop when they reached 20 kilometers from Cortaro. Northwest of Cortaro was the Bodl lowlands, to the north was desert, and to the east were the Ennedi plateaus. The Bodl lowlands were endlessly wide. Long ago, it had been a marsh, but it had dried up and had become a desert. They could go tens of kilometers and not come across a single town. As his comrades started to set up camp, Black Mamba slowly grabbed his AK-47 and headed out. At Uldi Harmarl, he had taken it to replace his broken Famas. He sensed that they would soon be forced into combat, so he had to get used to it. He had tried the AK-47 at Calvi, but that was not enough. The gun was only as useful as its range and accuracy. This place was not a training ground but a war zone where the fate of ones life hung on the balance. To increase the odds of survival, he must make the gun a part of his body. The gun was in good condition and well taken care of. Its power was good, and it fired smoothly. Based on its condition, you could tell that the guerrilla troops who had surprise-attacked them were well trained. What is it? Where did the target go? Black Mamba, who had been out hunting, muttered. The Sahel near Bilmar was a dry and bare place. Because shrubs and vegetation were not available, there were not a lot of choices for prey. The only things they were able to catch were rattlesnakes or small lizards. Antelope, gazelle, desert fox, and ostrich do inhabit the area, but they are a rare sight. Once Black Mamba became accustomed to the AK-47, he practiced throwing his spear and rocks to catch small animals. Swish A reddish-brown lizard got its head skewered to the thin chopstick-like spear. It was a Bells Mastigure, a horned lizard with a netting design on its body. It was a creature that lived near Bilmar. It reached a size of 10 inches and interestingly enough, though a large lizard, was an herbivore. I guess we have to eat lizards today again. Black Mamba caught five with his small spear. Carnivores tend to have a more gamey flavor than herbivores, and their meat is tougher since the meat and fat that they consume gets formed into their muscle fibers. Herbivore meat is much tastier, so the Bells Mastigures fate was to be a meal for the team. For two days, Black Mamba was unable to catch prey that satisfied him. The easiest ones were the reptiles. Bells Mastigures, osirents, giant plated lizards, horned salmosas, and unknown reptiles got their heads smashed. Even a six-meter long African snake showed up on their menu. Strangely enough, Africas most dangerous animal, the Black Mamba, was never seen once. It lived in the southeast and some reports say that its been seen in Chad, but that has never been confirmed. It was as dangerous as its rumored to be, so there isnt much of a chance to confirm it. Jang Shin, as expected of a Chinese person, was not picky with his ingredients. He roasted the Bells Mastigure while getting poked by the thorns on its tail. The lizard, roasted in olive oil, was met with great applause. The mercenaries tasted the roasted lizard and raised their thumbs. After having to eat bugs, no one rejected the cooked lizard. Black Mamba was also satisfied. The reptiles tasted like a cross between red meat and chicken. The canned food they had endured was no match for its tender meat. There was a lot of meat to eat off of it. Black Mamba then forced the rest of the team to go hunting. Humans would consume anything that is supposedly good for their health or stamina until it becomes wiped out. If rat meat was good for stamina, even with its great viability, he was sure that it would have gone extinct. The captain didnt stop him either. As a consequence of the battle of Uldi Hamarl, the hide-and-seek game between the FROLINAT army and Team Ratel had already started. They all knew that the teams survival depended exclusively on Black Mambas condition. The captain determined that the enemy on their tail was less of a threat than Black Mamba losing his fitness. Mike said he would try hunting, but he didnt have much success. He was just a sniper, not Black Mamba. It was hard to find prey to hunt, and the small and fast prey was hard to hit. Even when they succeeded, it was a problem. The strong bullets disintegrated the small lizards. Black Mamba was the only one who could aim precisely so that the bullet only hit the edge of the heads. The best-known snipers pride was lost to embarrassment. Mike realized sorely that sniping skills were far from hunting skills. The next morning, Black Mamba went out to hunt as usual. Kyak It was the cry of an ostrich. Black Mambas face broke out in excitement. It had been a long time since he met a large beast to hunt. His body stretched like a rubber band and slid over towards the sound. He was more agile now than he was when learning to do this while his teacher hit him on the head. After going 300 meters, he saw the ostrichs head poking out from the debris-littered grass. Its large eyes were reminiscent of a stray dogs. He hesitated for a moment, then grabbed a rock the size of his fist. The target was 30 meters away. Swoop The rock flew like a cannonball, hit the ostrich in the head, and shattered it. Wow! Mouris and Miguel had followed along and cheered. They would not have been surprised if Black Mamba threw a stone and brought down a helicopter. When Mouris and Miguel came back holding an ostrich, their teammates cheered. With the anticipation of eating a giant chicken, they all proceeded to drool. It was no Kentucky Fried Chicken, but they believed it would taste much better than the stir-fried lizards. Even such a small victory was good for their psychological health. What do we do? Jang Shin sighed as he looked at the giant bird that was bigger than he was. He was supposed to prepare the meal but did not know what to do with it. It was very frustrating. Just think of it as a little chicken. Its not little. Its a huge chicken. How long would it take to pull out all those feathers? Burimer tried to give him a bit more confidence, but Jang Shin did not relax. Can I take care of it? Ombuti asked Black Mamba respectfully. Why is he asking me? Black Mamba wondered. You are Imoharen. Do you think you can do such lowly tasks? Ombutis hollow eyes started to smile. It is food that Wakil will be eating. Of course, it is something the servant must do. I am not your master, and you are not my inferior. A Tuareg warrior does not go back on his word. Why do I even bother? Black Mamba grabbed the back of his neck at Ombutis stubborn behavior. As you can see, your friend is having some difficulties. Please help. Alright. Ombuti turned the ostrichs head towards Mecca and started to pray. Bismillah! Ombuti finished the slaughter prayer, pulled out the shamshir from his belt, and chopped off its head with one fluid swing. Blood poured from the ostrichs neck. Muslims believed that the blood of animals was unclean, and the Koran instructs them not to ingest blood. In Islamic cultures, the blood is collected and buried in the ground. Koreans eat congealed blood soup and would have been appalled. At the Majang market, congealed blood cost 5000 won. A cultures food was not dependent on the race but on the area they inhabited. Congealed blood soup was one of many familiar dishes to Koreans. Under the hills of Dae Gu there is a restaurant whose name starts with a D that specializes in congealed blood soup. They say that they go through a truckload of chopsticks per day. If the Arabs could see the Koreans eating the soup, they would probably faint. A French actress accused Koreans of being savages because they ate dogs and got stamped as an uncultured woman who didnt understand other cultures. Ombuti peeled off the skin of the ostrich easily, being familiar with the process. Jang Shin was flustered with the idea of plucking the feathers out of such a large bird but Ombuti finished it with ease. Ombuti split the stomach using the Spetsnaz sword that Black Mamba had gifted him. Jang Shin removed its innards and chopped it into pieces. When the ostrich was placed over the tarp, the collected blood streamed down into the red ground. Ombuti brought over a thick wire netting. It was the metal netting used to pull out the pickup truck when it fell into the sandpits. Emil and Miguel went to gather dried acacia trunks. A hungry moon rose above the red clay boulder. The cold emanating from it glowed blue. The campfire burned strongly to dissipate the cold. The mercenaries were sitting in a circle around the fire. They each sliced off a piece of the ostrich meat with their swords and ate it. The faces lit by the fire all looked a mess. Each one of them had dried skin peeling from their faces. Black Mamba was slightly worried. When an operations initiation took too long, it was hard to maintain the troops conditions. If he had not met the strange skeleton at Wol Song San, he would be in the same state as his other comrades. The Sahel night deepened with the red flaming fire over the acacia firewood, the sizzling ostrich meat, and the dripping of oil into the flames. It was the seventh day of their operation. Team Ratel was stretched thin. Ombuti, Black Mamba, and Emil met with the natives while the rest of the team went out in groups of three to survey the area. But, the three days in Cortaro yielded no useful information. In the end, they couldnt even find The Raccoons trail and had to abandon their plans. All that they accomplished was to waste time while trying to move without being discovered by the FAP. There was no progress, and they were all highly stressed. We cant trust the government army anymore. If we wander around like mad dogs all over the place, we are going to get killed. We have to get out of here now. Mike had been quiet for a couple of days but started to pour out his complaints. Everyones gaze shifted to Black Mamba. Mike flinched and turned away. Black Mamba was sitting cross-legged far away. When he was sitting in that position, he wasnt interested in anything else around him. We cant. The operation has not ended. When Burimer rejected the suggestion, Mike got angry. Son of a bitch, were all going to die. The fucking government punks have abandoned us. Mike, watch your mouth. I only say whats true. Im only saying lets look at the reality of the situation right now. Smack! Black Mamba smacked his lips together. Hmph! Surprised, Mike closed his mouth. Because his comrades were bickering, his meditation was broken. Black Mamba stared blankly at his fighting comrades. He didnt care much whether they decided to continue or abandon their mission. All a soldier has to do is follow orders. Talking about it doesnt change the fact that they cant change the mind of the strategic team. The lower-ranked Jang Shin couldnt interject with his input and walked toward Black Mamba. I would like to eat Xiaomien filled with herbs. Dont you want to also? The random statement from Jang Shin made Black Mamba burst out laughing. It revealed how nervous Jang Shin was. People tend to think of the good memories instead of the bad when they are put in a highly stressful situation. I think Ill pass. There were no Chinese restaurants in the Sahel anyways, but he never wanted to eat the food with that potent smell again. He craved spicy kimchi stew instead. What do you think Black? We are mercenaries. We received the money, so we have to pay the price. At Black Mambas words, Jang Shin nodded his head. If the leader decides, then all they had to do was follow. Thats true. Mikes disease seems to have spread. Haha, if they all need to learn their lesson, then we can teach it to them. Mikes face changed color upon hearing the low voice. Chapter 39 Enough, the operation will continue. Ten sets of eyes turned towards the captain. Captain, did you gather the information? At Burimers question, the captain nodded his head. I did. We are waiting for contact with the Raccoon from the town of Olong. His team looked at him with suspicious eyes. Dont think about anything else. We are mercenaries, the captain reiterated. Ombuti opened a map. Olong is a town below the Bodl lowlands near the Niger republic. It is 210 kilometers from Cortaro. Burimer grabbed his head. Ugh, we ran to the east like crazy, and now we have to go back to the west? This is ridiculous, are all the DGSE punks blind? The usually quiet Mouris shouted. Each of the mercenarys faces stiffened. The captain couldnt understand it either. A week ago, Makumbos army went through Kanem to get toward NDjamena. After hearing the explanation of DGSEs diversion tactic, they were not persuaded. It didnt feel right to them. It felt like there were bigger powers at work here. There was no reason that a raccoon-like Makumbo would risk his safety to loiter around Borkou. Makombo was obsessed with power. He would never use himself as bait for the safety of humans. Whoever uttered such nonsense deserved to get his mouth ripped open. Chad was several times larger than France. Without intel, finding the Raccoon would be like trying to find a grain of barley in a pile of flour. Even if it didnt feel right, they had no choice but to do as intel directed. The captains state of mind was a complicated mess like the sand winds of the Sahara. FROLINAT was in disarray. It was because Team Ratel had to suddenly change their direction. Team Ratel prepared to attack by staking out three places near Tanga and Chicha. Where the two places bottlenecked, the guards around it were a bit lax. As a result, Team Ratel did not have to waste their energy engaging in a fight. Luckily, they had avoided a battle, but the danger increased. The FROLINAT forces were greatly surprised by the battle at Uldi Hamal. They assumed that the main French army had invaded the Sahel. The FROLINAT army had been forced to Bodl into Kanem, Tibesti, and Ennedy. As a consequence, Nedeli and Hajare, below Bodl, were not empty. The DGSEs Colonel Boniface called out in delight. Miguel, isnt it incredible? It is incredible. Team Ratel has made a cloister for Nedeli. Miguel, the Head of African operations, exclaimed. Their backdoor operation had worked perfectly. The mercenary team had done their part much more phenomenally than they had hoped for. The Racoon hasnt moved, has he? Hes lying in wait in Nedeli. Nedeli was a small city 120 kilometers south of Bodl. The Racoon was lying in wait here at the moment. Is GIGN ready? We have two armies on standby at NDjamena. Start the operation. Yes, but Is there a problem? When Miguel hesitated, Boniface glared at him with fierce eyes. Dont you think well have problems with Legion Etranger? This is for the country. This is the reason we created a mercenary army. They should pay their dues. Boniface was cool-headed. The reason they trained a mercenary army was so that they could be used in conflict areas. They held guns to kill the enemy and had to come to terms that they, too, could die. Mercenaries lived for death. Isnt it a waste to use Black Mamba as a disposable card? Black Mamba was one of the few who had received a call name from the French army. It felt like a waste to only use him once. If we get Makombo, we can get Chad. If we want to catch the big fish, we have to use the little ones as bait. As long as they have Black Mamba, the mercenary team will not fall easily. Their job is to fight battles, and it is our job to bring in the Raccoon. Black Mamba will be the first Korean to receive the Lgion dhonneur Chevalier Award. Of course, it will be a posthumous honor. Haha! Miguel got the creeps. There was a good reason they called Boniface snake-like. His nickname was Serpent. Look here Miguel, they are our DGSE. Men are no different than bullets. After you lodge a bullet into the enemys chest, do you feel like you wasted the bullet? Miguel shook his head. It was a one-dimensional argument but still persuasive. The colonels words were not wrong, but Miguel felt uneasy. The strongest killer is Black Mamba if Black Mamba stays alive? Something bothered him greatly about the possibility. Would Black Mamba remain a mere sardine? Upon leaving the colonels office, Miguel shook his head in disbelief. The two GIGN forces trekked on land to invade Nedeli. Nobody else knew about the new tactic that had been placed into operation. Even the commander of Legion Etranger had been excluded. Only the DGSE head, Colonel Boniface, knew the truth. To fool the enemy, you must fool your troops. The strategic colonel was succeeding fantastically on both sides. Team Ratel, unable to know what Boniface was up to, received the DGSE intel and diligently went to Olong. If the group gets tracked and followed by the lions, then you must abandon one of them. You must make the abandoned one go an entirely different direction and have them divert the lion away from the main group. Team Ratel was chosen to be the bait. Once they got close to Bilma, the scenery changed to desert scenery. It was hard to see green, and the swamps and wadis were now dry. Fewer and fewer animals came into view. Damn, we have to fill our stomachs with these cans again. Blacks all washed up, too. Hes not even bringing us a lizard. Jang Shin muttered. For two days, they were not given meat. Unable to cook, a pleasant pastime for him, he was starting to get stressed. The desert, like the arctic, was a place that was inhospitable for animals to survive. It was because lifes base, vegetation, was highly limited in such areas. The vegetation that does survive adapts to the harsh environment accordingly. Like the cacti, saltbush, and creosote Bush, it can be surrounded by thorns, or like the adenium, be poisonous. It was obvious why such few animals existed here. An animals growth is dependent on its ability to gather surplus energy. All animals store surplus energy as fat. In an environment where it is hard to store additional energy, it is a natural progression to evolve towards a smaller build. In the desert, they had to endure high heat, and so a bigger body would cause them to lose more energy as heat. To maintain a good balance to cool the body, enough water must be consumed. However, in the desert, water is severely limited. High temperatures and limited water made it difficult for creatures to survive here. Based on natural selection and evolution, the few animals that have survived here had a couple of specific characteristics. First, their bodies were small. Because the desert required high energy usage, very few large animals existed there. Regardless of whether it was mammals, reptiles, or insects, they were all small. With limitations on available food, a large body would be difficult to maintain for survival. Even a motorcycle fuel can wouldnt last long before melting. Second, there were few species and few that traveled in groups. Because there were so few opportunities to catch prey, it was impossible to support a group system. Unlike the Savanna hyenas, the desert hyenas did not travel in packs. Third, the animals had traits that would give them an advantage. The desert had few living things in it. Because there were so few opportunities to catch food, when the opportunity did present itself, the prey must be caught. Hence, there were a lot of poisonous creatures such as scorpions, rattlesnakes, and the horned desert viper. Fourth, there were no herbivores. Other than the fact that there was little vegetation in the desert, the habitat itself requires heavy energy usage. It was hard to obtain high energy with only the consumption of vegetation. The tiger eats over 10 kilograms of food per day. For the tiger to gain the same amount of energy from vegetation as it gets from 10 kilograms of meat, it would have to consume 100 kilograms of vegetation. In other words, in the desert, it would be impossible to ever feel satiated. Only because he was Black Mamba, was he able to hunt. They had rations available, so why must they eat scorpions and bugs? Nimi jotto! Emil shouted out Korean curse words of which he didnt even know the meaning. The small grains of sand blew in the Sahara wind and suffocated them. Emil had become a fan of Black Mamba and started to repeat Korean curse words. At ease! The captain raised his hands. Emil massaged his aching shoulders. He had driven six hours straight through the night. It was early in the morning, and all his comrades were fast asleep. Black Mamba crept out slowly from his sleeping bag. The chilly Sahel morning crept upon him. He sat on top of a boulder and sat cross-legged so that he could feel the wrath of the hyenas that had broken the teams morale. Damn, do we need a meteor shower? It was hard to catch the tail of something youve already missed once. Giving up on meditation, Black Mamba grabbed his gun and walked on. Bonjour! Oops, Black, make some noise when you walk. Mouris, who had been waiting between boulders, jumped in surprise, then put his raised gun back down. Black Mamba always seemed to appear out of nowhere like an illusion. It scared the life out of him several times. Excusez-Moi! Just forget it. Mouris shook his head as Black Mamba apologized. This guy was not a sniper but an assassin. Black Mamba waved his hand toward a small figure 30 meters away. Burimer, ohhu buahhu (Burimer, youve gone through a lot of trouble.) Tap tap Burimer tapped his code to relay his hello back. How do you know the location of Burimer? Mouris asked with a confused expression. His spatial recognition skills far surpassed that of other regular snipers. Mouris, who had little interaction with Black Mamba previously, was highly surprised. He was more impressed by his observational skills than his amazing fighting skills. I just know. Damn, hes not even human. When Black Mamba threw him the flask, Mouris smiled. Mouris enrolled in the 13th foreign army under the firearms platoon. He doubted many times whether Black Mamba was the same human that he was. Dawn had already come. In three hours, their task would be over. After drinking wine on an empty stomach, his rigid, cold body was able to relax. I think Ill at least go catch a hyena, today. I want to eat fresh meat. Black Mamba waved from behind his head as he headed into a forested area. The quiet Mouris broke into a smile. It was a relief that he was a comrade. What if he had been the enemy? He didnt even want to think about it. When they got out from underneath the boulders shadow, shrubs and herbs started to appear. Whether grass or trees, their roots were covered in the Saharan sand. At the rate the Sahel desert expanded, it seemed that the entire world would soon be covered in sand. Kyang A desert fox popped out of the shrub. The quickly escaping fox slowed as he made eye contact with the humans and glanced up at them. The meat of a fox was a hundred times better than the smelly meat of hyenas. Black Mamba hesitated as he pulled out his kukri. Two baby foxes popped out behind their mother. The babies ran away with their mother practically rolling. He smiled bitterly. Mouris had requested meat, but he didnt want to kill a mother fox with babies. Huh, what is this? Isnt it a watermelon? Black Mamba shouted in glee. He saw a fruit half-eaten by a desert fox. Although smaller, its green skin with black stripes looked like that of a watermelon. Batikh. Black Mamba would have never known about it, but it was a wild watermelon that grew in southern Africa. When they broke the wild watermelon, its red insides appeared. It was not too sweet and had a lot of water. It was a bit salty even. It was no comparison to the sweet and delicate watermelons he had eaten with his father by the bridge. It is interesting, even if it doesnt taste good. Black Mamba lifted the batikh and stared at it curiously like a child. If you think about it, it isnt all that interesting, either. Watermelons originated in southern African. During the Chosun dynasty, African watermelons had been first introduced to Korea after being imported to China. Chapter 40 According to the Chosun records, the watermelon was a rare and expensive fruit. There is a record of Eunuch Park who stole a watermelon from the palace and was punished with the cudgel. A person who secretly exported watermelons was exiled. By todays standards, this may have seemed petty but, back then, it must have been extremely priceless for it to be so cherished. Black Mamba was unable to catch an animal but returned to camp with four or five watermelons. Surprisingly, his comrades cheered. It was a blessing to eat fresh fruit in the middle of the desert. On the eighth day of the operation, the captain, who had figured out the extent of Black Mambas potential, started to relax. He was unable to remove the binoculars from his eyes, but he continuously conversed with Ombuti as he stood guard. Stop! Black Mamba jumped off the pickup truck. He immediately put his ear to the ground and listened. The quick-witted Emil hurriedly turned off the engine. Captain, its camels. There are five of them. Can you tell the distance? The captain was no longer surprised. Coming from the left about six kilometers away. They are coming our way. Should we turn back? The captain did not answer Emils question and instead looked at Ombuti. Theres a high chance its a caravan. We are 10 kilometers away from Olong. With Ombutis answer, the captain immediately came to a decision. Other than Alpha, send everyone back. If it is a caravan, Ombuti can deal with them. If they are guerrillas, then Black will obliterate them. Are we planning to disguise ourselves as camel peddlers to get into town? Ombuti confirmed, picking up on the captains intention. Thats right. What should we use to bargain? We have a lot of good merchandise to trade. Ombuti pointed to the AK-47 in the pickup truck. Black Mambas prediction was correct. An Arab wearing a gandura appeared with five camels in front of him. Ombuti stepped forward. Asalamu alakum, where are you coming from brother? Wa ala eku mut salam, I am coming from Bilma. Ombuti pointed at the kitchen utensils and clothes hung on the camel. Brother, we need one camel and the items on it. Brother, do you have payment? I have a gun and bullets. Alright. I was starting to worry about my safety. Because they were able to get what they both needed, the trade went through smoothly. Black Mamba watched the trade and slowly placed the certificate that he had been holding in his hand into his wrist wallet. Ombuti smiled. The caravan brothers would never have known that they had just escaped the lions mouth. Ombuti bought one camel, pots, and several articles of clothing. In return, he handed him 5 guns and 300 bullets. Olong was a small oasis town. Only about a hundred people resided there. The disguised Ombuti walked toward the town with the camel, pots, and clothes. To not aggravate the natives, only Black Mamba followed him. Ombuti glanced back at Black Mamba who was following behind him. Wearing the gandura with the litam wrapped around him, it was hard to tell him apart from other natives. Ombuti, who had Azrael as his guard, had nothing to be afraid of. Even if he was not armed, Black Mamba was an all-powerful warrior. Once they got to the entrance of the town, they saw tall trees stretched out toward the sky. The bottoms of the old trees were all buried deep in the sand. The unharvested dates were still hanging from their branches. Dates turned orange when they were ripe. The unripened fruit hung yellow and dry because of the drought. Wakil, dont speak. I already know. Either way, he hadnt wanted to open his mouth. As they entered the town, a rotten smell seemed to be emanating from each house. Unable to stand it, especially with his sensitive sense of smell, he wrapped the cloth tightly around his nose. Since starting the operation, it was the first time he had entered a native town. They had houses built from braided reeds and mud bricks, similar to their bunkers, with cow dung plastered on it so that it was mottled black. The falling sunlight cast a yellow shadow. It didnt take long for Ombuti to reach an agreement with the mayor. Ombuti gave the mayor one of the Soviet Tokarev guns they had kept after defeating the guerillas. He stared at them wide-mouthed and yelled in a loud voice while waving his hands. What are you saying? They say that no outside person had come into their town for several weeks. They said if we give them a gun, they will gather the townspeople for us. Hes such a pig. It meant that if he was going to interrogate, then he had to interrogate them directly. If Ombuti was describing him as a pig, then he must have disliked the mayor very much. In Arab culture, the worst thing to say to a person was to call them a pig. Is there a problem? No. Its a small town, so it will end quickly. There was no need to gather the people. They had purchased the camel and disguised themselves as peddlers to do such an interrogation. Ombuti went from house to house and bargained with them for pots and clothes. From a house, a group of women and children in dirty rags came rushing out. The womens hair was oily and matted, and the childrens skin was peeling white, results of their difficult lives. Black Mamba frowned. It was how he had looked when he had been at his uncles house. Ombuti adamantly continued his pitch like a true salesman. He even patted the heads of the children whose hair rained down dandruff and patted the womens butts. Watching this made Black Mamba laugh. Even with Ombutis great persuasion skills, the sale did not go smoothly. It looked like they wouldnt be able to afford anything. The natives had fear in their eyes mixed with curiosity. Outsiders rarely came into their town. Ombuti! At Black Mambas low calling, Ombuti flinched. Be discrete. Its the last house on the right. Its the three men with guns. Howd you know? Ombuti asked in a low voice. From their current location, it was 50 meters away. He couldnt help but continuously be fascinated by Black Mambas skills. Black Mamba pointed to his ear and nose. I know by sound and smell. I can smell metal and oil, and I can also hear them putting bullets into their pistols. Oh my Allah! Ombuti called out to Allah quietly. The Tuareg showed the amount of respect to his Korean master relative to his skills. He was happy because his masters skill was phenomenal. There is a fingernail-sized metal shard in Ombutis left chest. Ah! Ombuti jumped as if hed seen a ghost and grappled at his chest for the hidden piece of gold. The only person here who would have a gun is a FROLINAT hunting dog. What should we do? Ill catch him. Hell open his mouth with a good beating. Before he was even able to utter his last words, Black Mambas was already getting farther away. Dust rose from the spot where he had kicked off. The Amal brothers were intelligence agents from Tokodooms Ahmood army. They had found four suspicious-looking vehicles, and they had been on their way to pass information to the Habib army when they found two unarmed men entering the town. The Amal brothers planned diligently to catch the two intruders. Oh no, hes figured us out. Kiro, who was holding a gun, yelled. Shoot them! Hakims scream was buried in the sound of bullets. Bang bang Ack! Ombuti, who had been blankly staring at Black Mambas back, flew down to the ground. When he lifted his head, he saw the crumbled walls and Black Mamba running through it. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Crack The thick wall made of braided reeds was no obstacle. Avoiding the bullets, he crushed the wall and ran inside for cover. Denta tachinun! (This lunatic!) The surprised Hakim pulled out his shamshir and waved it around while charging. The Amal brothers were warriors from Dumuma clan from Tibesti. The shamshir was a friend of their clan from hundreds of years ago. Hakim did not doubt the results. The shamshir was sharp enough, and the timing was impeccable. Clang The sound of heavy metals colliding echoed. Hakims arm twisted in the opposite direction. The shamshir flew out of his hand and got stuck deep inside a wall. Thud Hakim saw stars in the middle of the day; they erupted in front of his eyes, then his world fell into darkness. Black Mambas body spun. With his kukri, he was able to get the shamshir to fly. Then he kicked Hakim in the chin, then spun and kicked him in the temple. At Kiro, who was holding a gun, he threw the kukri and hit him also, all in one shot. The three Arabs holding guns and swords were disabled in an instant. Ahh! Only after Black Mamba landed did his agonizing scream come out. Oh, dear! Ombuti, observing the scene, clicked his tongue. The one with the broken mandible and the other with the broken skull were comatose, and the one with the kukri through him practically had his shoulder falling off. Ack! When Ombuti pulled out the kukri, Kiro let out an ear-splitting scream. He wiped off the blood from the blade and handed it back to Black Mamba. Afterward, he used his litam to bandage Kiros shoulder. The Yaktal Dumuma clan were enemies of the Tualag clan. Thus, he didnt care whether one of Hakims men lived or died. Ombuti sent the Hakim brothers out of the house shaking his head. Hakim and Amal were just barely alive. A persons skull is much stronger than most people anticipate. It is not weak enough to be broken by getting hit with hands or feet, but Black Mambas hands and feet were a scarier weapon than a sword or ax. Behind the peaceful face of its owner lied the savage heart of a beast. Ombuti, did you question all of them? Yep. The Raccoon didnt even come here. Ombuti jumped in surprise at Black Mambas question. The captain will be furious. What should we do with these things? We have to take them to camp. Alright. Place them on the camel. You may place items, but you do not place people. It must be due to his lack of vocabulary. Ombuti thought. Black Mamba placed the three unconscious men on top of the camel as if they were cargo. The camel is a sensitive animal. Once it smelled blood, it started to turn its head and spit everywhere. It was its way of saying it didnt like it. Ombuti tried to calm the animal, but it didnt listen and kept retreating backward. Black Mamba grabbed the animals chin and stared in its eyes. You cheeky animal, do you want to get a beating? Upon seeing his violent look, the camel screamed in fear. Black Mamba hit the camels cheeks lightly with the palm of his hand. The camel calmed down and lowered its head. Black Mamba smiled and handed Ombuti the leash. The shadow of the camel carrying the three men stretched out long behind them. The deserts sunset is long. The darkness comes suddenly but until then, the orange sunset burned brightly. Once the sun had completely set, Ombuti and Black Mamba returned to camp. Hes their intel. Black Mamba said these short words then went to wash off the blood. He obliterated them. Meeting Black Mamba of all people, they sure have bad luck. Mouris and Miguel clicked their tongues as they received the equipment. What did he do to make a man look like this piece of meat. Mouris stared at Hakim and clicked his tongue. They were all exactly one shot. Burimer looked at Black Mamba and shook his head. Bellman looked over the wounded. As his skull was bashed in, it broke his spine. This one had a piece of skull lodged into his brain. Both are a lost cause. This one, with his scalp gone, is about to go into shock. Bellman gave up on Hakim and Amal and went to Kiro. He injected atropine into his thigh and bandaged up his shoulder. Are we able to interrogate them? Well be able to interrogate the one with the sliced off arm. Bellman nodded at Burimers question. If Black was our enemy. Wed be done for. The captain finished Burimers sentence. We could have had our location compromised. You did well. The captain patted Black Mambas shoulder. They sure are unlucky. Haha, trying to go against the angel of death. Crazy punks. It would have been safer to stick their heads into the head of a lion. The captain and Burimer laughed heartily. Chapter 41 Makombo did not come to Olong. Captain Paul looked at Ombuti after hearing Black Mambas words. Not being there was very different from not even going there. We searched the entire town, but there was not a single person who had seen him there. What about the possibility that the townspeople lied? Ombuti shook his head at Burimers words. We checked each person, one by one. There was something wrong with our information. You can check with that guy. Ombuti interrogated Kiro. Kiro was on the bottom rung of the intel group. There wasnt much to gain from him. They were only able to confirm that Makombo did not show up at Olong and that FROLINAT was chasing Team Ratel into a corner at Bodl. Makombos whereabouts were still unknown. A shadow swept over the captains face. The Raccoon was nowhere in sight, and all they got were a bunch of flies. The three Amal brothers were buried in the dry dirt. Burimer extended the radio antennae. It was the third contact with the NDjamena army. Come in, Alpha. This is Bravo. Bravo, I hear you loud and clear. Speak. Alpha, Olong is their oasis. It is 210 kilometers from Cortaro. Bravo, what happened to The Raccoon? Alpha, The Raccoon did not show at Olong. The transmission suddenly went silent. Bravo, recheck the information. The Raccoon has moved to Ekiya Oasis. What is Tangos movement like? Alpha, FROLINAT is currently chasing us. We are like lions being chased by hyenas. Bravo, understood. Alpha, the mark is dead. The location is 65 kilometers southwest of Moussaro, in Uldi Hamarl. Coordinates are 323-274. Bravo, understood. After finishing the communication, the captain opened the map. Ekiya Oasis! He couldnt help but sigh. They had to go to Cortaro, then to Olong, then back towards Cortaro again. As the Korean proverb says, it was like training a mutt. They had to wander around the Sahel all over again. From the beginning of the operation, the intel was shabby. They were pissed for having to be swayed back and forth all over the place. Fucking Colonel! Curse words reflexively flowed out of him. They couldnt get air reinforcements because of the meek colonel. Colonel Philip cared too much about how Stella 2 would react. Thanks to their incorrect intel, they had wasted time going to Olong. Ekiya Oasis was only about 10 square yards. Would the cunning Makombo be hiding in an oasis the size of a hand? The captain was highly suspicious. If Makombo had been hiding at Paya, that information would have seemed more trustworthy. What are those DGSE punks planning? His sigh deepened. Nikimi Dougral! Curse words were the first ones out of Emils mouth as he kicked out of his sleeping bag. They were Korean curse words that he learned from Black Mamba. The consequences for forgetting to wear the mosquito-net mask was horrible. His face was swollen as if he had gotten beaten up. Emil was from Seville, in southern Spain. Being used to the temperate Mediterranean weather, the Sahel days and nights were torturous for him. The midday heat was like his ex-lover Kathryns fiery personality, and the nights were as cold as her face when she had broken up with him. Kathryn had fallen in love with a bullfighter and left him without even bidding him farewell. The woman who seemed to be willing to give up her life for him, in one moment, suddenly turned into a witch. He had enrolled in the foreign army out of anger. He despised Chad and the Sahel. Every day he was bothered by its extreme heat and cold, then bothered again by the flies and mosquitoes. He cursed Kathryn then cursed himself by enrolling in the foreign army. Shiba, joto! When he opened the ration package, a hoard of flies buzzed toward him like a cloud. He greeted the rising sun but again cursed. His mouth had become accustomed to Korean curse words. He waved his hands continuously trying to shoo them away, but it was useless. The army of flies attacked the meat that he held in his hand. He remembered a war movie set in the Pacific Ocean called Tora! Tora! Tora! If the steak he held in his hand was the US navy, then the flies were the bombs that rained on top of them. Fucking Jjokbalri! Emil cursed using irrelevant Japanese. Black Mamba used the word jjokbalri a lot, so he thought that it was a word used to reference any bad guys. He had heard about Africas mosquitoes and flies, from the senior mercenaries, until his ears were sore. As expected, experiencing it once is a much better lesson than hearing it a hundred times. His comrades were going insane fighting off the flies. One person was an exception. It was the kukri-swinging Black Mamba. Swoosh swoosh swoosh The sliced flies fell to the ground. Other than the flashing of white light, it was hard to follow the blades path. He swung upward, diagonally to the side, then downward; the blade swung faster and faster. The glistening light from the reflection hid his body. His comrades jaws dropped in disbelief. Wow! They cheered. Once the light disappeared, the ground had turned black. The cut-up flies littered the ground. Why are you all making such a fuss? Black Mamba was embarrassed by his comrades gaze. He put the kukri back into its sheath. His teacher was skilled in the arts of wielding a lance or sword. His teacher had only taught him how to wield a lance thinking that the sword would be unnecessary except for criminal acts. When the sword skills learned from Legion Etranger combined with his physique, its strength multiplied. The kukri was like an extension of himself. Black Mamba was also sick of the flies. His target was not the resistance army but the flies and mosquitoes. The mosquitoes could be kept at bay with the netting and spray, but there was nothing that could be done about the flies. At this point, he was hoping that the same amount of guerrilla forces as the flies would come charging in. The flies were more difficult to destroy than the resistance army because guns and swords could not be used on them. Among one of the fly species, there was one that was the size of a fingernail, that, when bitten, would cause such a sharp pain that it would cause anyone to jump. Full of anger, he had trained using flies as his targets. He trained his vision to test how well he could see the flies stopping mid-flight. With his burst of speed and agile muscles, it was a weird sort of training that only he could do. In the Sahel, the native flies were about the same size as house flies in Korea. They were notorious for wandering into holes. Ear canals, nostrils, eyes, whatever holes there were, they would pop into it. After Bellman finished his sample survey, he realized that some of them were Tsetse flies. Tsetse flies suck blood and spread sleeping sickness. Eastern Africa was home to the Tsetse flies, but in western Africa, the Tsetseflies were known to inhabit southern Chad. The Sahel belt had recorded instances of sleeping sickness. They couldnt be sure that they would be safe from it. That morning, he required the soldiers to get their sleeping sickness vaccinations. Bellman uncovered his comrades bottoms and stabbed them with the needle. Stupid imperialist punks! Chartres spit out sand as he pulled down his pants to reveal his bottom. He muttered that the greedy and ignorant ancestors had caused his current suffering. The Tsetse flies became an infestation in Africa because they were introduced there by the European invaders. In the latter half of the 19th century, Europe invaded Africa and started to grow food there to increase supplies. The Italian army occupied Ethiopia, in 1887, and had been the first to start raising livestock. It garnered the opening for other Europeans to bring over their livestock, too. The Rinderpest virus present in the imported livestock started to spread within Africa. It was highly contagious and lethal. Unlike European livestock that had grown resistant to the Rinderpest virus, Africas herbivores were wiped out by it. The infected animals got fevers and gum ulcers that killed them off in less than 10 days. The Incas had been wiped out by Spains smallpox disease. Africas herbivores were on the brink of extinction thanks to the Rinderpest virus that had come with the imported livestock. In east Africa, the Rinderpest virus killed off 4.9 of the 5 million cows. Wild herbivores met a similar fate. When the large herbivores started dying off, it started a famine. At the time, about 30 percent of the Ethiopian population died. Like in America, the greedy Europeans invasion caused devastation to the natives of East Africa. When the large herbivores started to disappear, Africas food chain changed drastically. It was the second wave of losses. When the large herbivores started dying out in the wild, the Savannah started to be overrun by weeds and shrubs. It became the perfect habitat for Tsetse flies. The Tsetse flys original habitat was heavily forested areas with swamps. When the Savannah changed to a forest, the Tsetses spread upward in Africa. They soon started to spread throughout the continent. Because of this, Africas losses were devastating. The wildlife, livestock, and even people were ravaged by the sleeping sickness. Many species became extinct. There was a drastic impact on the natives, as well. From 1900 to 1906, just in eastern Africa alone, 200,000 people died from sleeping sickness within 5 years. When the herbivores started disappearing, the hungry lions started attacking people. This was the time that the legends of the cannibal lion came into being. Nobody wanted to take responsibility for the disastrous situation. The unscrupulous Europeans were too busy boasting about catching the savages. Because of his ignorant and greedy ancestors, Chartres was forced to pitifully reveal his bottom and get a shot. Knowing all this made him more bitter about it. For a historian scholar like Chartres, this history was a travesty. The captain opened a map and went into a quick meeting. He drew a straight line from Olong to Ekiya. We will head to Ekiya Oasis. From our location, the oasis is 370 kilometers away. As you know, the roads are abysmal. We will leave immediately. The captain stopped talking and observed his team members expressions. Each one of them looked discontented. Only Black Mamba looked unfazed. Asians, compared to Caucasians, tended to not show much expression on their face. Black Mamba especially so. Captain, are we going to continue dragging around the stalker groups? We wont know when the hungry hyenas will attack. I dont trust the information we received this time, either. Even the cool-headed Burimer aired his complaints. Everyone nodded. They all thought that something was not right. We are subordinates. We receive commands and follow them. Even as the captain said this, Burimers expression was full of resentment. Captain, we have to move only after receiving proper intel. If we didnt have Black, we would have been destroyed at Uldi Hamarl. Mike continued from Burimers words. We traveled to the east then to the west. We have to go back east again. Something is weird. This is like pulling a fishing net back and forth through the water as a lure. For the first time, Mike seriously spoke his input. Captain Paul and his team both looked surprised. He had been down for a while, but he had suddenly changed. Black Mambas scolding had changed Mike. The captain took turns making eye contact with each of his members. I know everyone is not happy with this. Im frustrated, too. Weve been stuck chasing after The Raccoons tail for so long that my bottom is now a mess. We are but subordinates. We die and live on command. We cannot be discontent with any operation. If we have to drag them around with us, then thats what we must do. His blunt words caused everyone to shut their mouths. The enemy has released hyenas wherever we go, so they can try to catch us. From now on, it will be difficult for us to move around discreetly. At Ombutis words, the captain nodded his head. They wont be walking around with their heads as mere accessories. However, they will never imagine us to be at the far west side at the edge of Bodl. The captain spoke as he looked at each of his men. We will abandon our main operation and move into Bodl. We will go through Tordum and Asis to get to Ekiya. We must travel 190 kilometers and need to move as discreetly as we can to avoid conflict. The small troops will be handled by Black Mamba. Chapter 42 However hard we try, our team cant even make a full unit. Weve already lost Mark. The enemy is charging at us like a swarm of flies. The more battles we fight, the weaker our morale will be. I am not afraid of death, but, truthfully, I do not want to die in vain like a dog on the street. Burimer spoke, glancing over at Black Mamba. It was the first time that he had spoken against Captains commands. It meant that the situation warranted that much suspicion. I agree. There is a Korean proverb that says that there is no hero who can beat a gang. With Black Mambas surveillance skills, we can reduce the number of encounters with the enemy. We are mercenaries. It is better for us to die than to get blamed for disobeying orders. Emil lowered his mosquito-bitten swollen eyelids. Captain, lets hurry and hit them head-on. Whether its a raccoon or a weasel, lets quickly grab its neck and drag it over there. Fresh young women are waiting for us at Meridien Shari with their underwear off. Sure, it would be much better getting sucked by women than by these mosquitoes. Hahaha. Mike snickered. Laughter filled the faces of the mercenaries. NDjamena control center, which was surrounded by Lake Shari, had trees around it and air conditioning circulating through it. They could shower with hot water and tumble around with women beside them. All of them were excited just thinking about it. Is Emil going to be paying for the Meridien call girl? At Belmans words, Emil pointed at Black Mamba. Black Mamba will earn enough for us. Of course. Thanks to Black Mamba, we earned enough to pay a Saint-Gerzes call girl ten times and then some. We must celebrate FROLINAT increasing our pay so drastically. Bang bang! Belman laughed as he pretended to shoot with his finger like a gun. With the money to call a Saint-Gerze call girl once, you can call one in Meridien a hundred times. Jang Shin interrupted. This guy has such a small package but he sure has a thing for the ladies. Mouris said laughing as he hit Jang Shin on the back of the head. Is FROLINAT the cash cow? Or is it Black Mamba? What does it matter? All we have to do is pick up the pieces that Black Mamba slices off. Emil laughed as he answered Mikes question. The comrades were glad of the change in Mike. Once the teams unstable character disappeared, the atmosphere lightened. Black, you have anything to say? No. The flies are tiresome, but they dont bother me. They dont bother you? The captain cocked his head in surprise. He assumed that he had misspoken due to a poor choice of words but looked at him with grateful eyes. The lovey-dovey eyes Black Mamba received from the middle-aged man made him flinch. It didnt really bother him. It was not as great as the cool Shari riverside but the Sahel was not that bad. They had enough to eat, and he could hunt as a hobby. They had a car to travel in, and he had many comrades by his side. If he thought back to the time that he had to spend alone in the caves, this was quite pleasurable. Once the atmosphere softened, the captain gave out his instructions. As we are doing now, the pickup trucks will be called Alpha, Beta, Charlie, Delta. We will only change the passengers. Alpha will be Ombuti, Captain, and Black Mamba; Bravo is Mike, Bellman, and Jang Shin; Charlie is Emil and Morris; Delta is Burimer and Chartres. Damn, a bunch of smelly guys as partners. What am I supposed to do with these people that dont even have holes? Lets hurry and go to Meridien. All the team members laughed. Jang Shin, what are the protocols while we are on the move? The sudden question thrown out by the captain caught Jang Shin by surprise and brought him back to his senses from his smiling laughter. Yes, sir. First, be on the lookout from the front and back, second, do let children under ten, women, and elders come into close contact, and third, if they ignore warnings to stay away, shoot them immediately. Good, everyone got that? Starting now, everyone put silencers on your guns. Tango intel or the reconnaissance team will be taken care of by Black Mamba. If you find The Raccoon, immediately radio in and use the bike as needed. Lets smoke this Raccoon out. Lets go! The mercenaries ran to the pickup and got into it like boars being chased by a puma. It was almost sad how desperately they wanted to get away from the swarming flies. Operation Raccoon, day 9 If everything had gone according to plan, they would have already captured The Raccoon and returned home by this time. Team Ratel had predominantly given up on this task and instead continued forward on the wadi. They were trying to avoid the enemy troops. The four pickup trucks were trekking along eastbound. If they had traveled south toward Bodl last time, this time, they were heading toward the center of Bodl. The long drought had dried up the wadi. They increased their speed riding along this route compared to the southwest roads that had been severely messed up. While they were waiting for the engines to cool down, the captain called Ombuti and Belman. Bellman, its already been over a week. Im worried about the state of the team. Theres no illness other than a cold among them but because of the severe temperature changes, their stamina is decreasing steadily. Black Mambas condition seems to be getting better though. The captain smiled. That friend of ours was different from any of us from the beginning. He cannot be understood by human standards. His genes were different from ours from the get-go. Thats true. I heard that there are mysterious powers among the Korean and Chinese but even with that assumption, he cannot be understood by normal standards. You dont need to worry about Black Mamba. Worry about the badgers. Their morale is falling. Badgers know their territories. A wandering badger is not normal. Theres something that you know, isnt there, Captain? The captain flinched at Bellmans words. He couldnt say his assumption out loud, but he was willing to bet all his pay that this would go on for at least another month. We should end it soon. You take good care of Black Mamba. The teams tactics and survival are in his hands. He casually avoided the question. Of course sir. Bellman nodded his head. The captains words were not an exaggeration. The god-like sniper Black Mamba was an assassin and master of hand-to-hand combat. Although difficult to believe, he was a master of battle whether it was up close or from far away. If something happened to Black Mamba, then the entire team would be in grave danger. Ombuti, what is our current location? Ombuti pointed at a point on the map. We are in the vicinity of Torun Oasis. We have come exactly halfway. This area had become a desert as sand started to fly over here. There are six oasis towns before we get to Ekiya. Looks like well arrive there before noon tomorrow. I hope we can see The Raccoon there this time. The captain sincerely hoped that his assumptions would not become a reality. If his assumption came true, the results would be catastrophic. After a short break, the pickup continued to Cortaro. As always, Black Mamba was meditating with his eyes closed as he sat in the back of the pickup. His biorhythm had reached its peak. His senses had become heightened, and his muscles had strengthened greatly. As they traveled, he could pick up on the movements of living creatures from time to time. His body seemed to have evolved to the next level. He was sure he would not end up dying in this rough area. Ombuti, didnt you say it was a marsh. Captain muttered as dust rose hazily around them. Ten years ago, it was a marsh. Once Lake Chad dried up, it ended up like this. However, this place tends to have a lot of water. Ombuti gazed at Black Mamba as he answered half-heartedly. Black Mamba was, as always, not a bit disheveled. He looked like he had suspension attached to his bottom that was a hundred times better than that on the truck. They couldnt help but be fascinated by it. Wakil, are you uncomfortable? Not whatsoever. The nickname Wakil is uncomfortable though. His calm demeanor made Ombuti feel a bit awkward. Ombuti is a warrior of Tuareg. A warrior respects other great warriors. Black Mamba was the king of warriors, Wakil. Even if you dont accept it, I will continue to serve you as my master. Ombuti determined firmly to himself. Black, please survey the perimeter. Alright. Black Mamba didnt like it, but he agreed to be their radar. He didnt want to feel the pain of losing his comrades. The captains inner thoughts were complicated. It had been seven days since the battle of Uldi Hamarl. Over 200 FROLINAT soldiers had died. It was enough time for the FROLINAT forces to figure out the situation. Like tadpoles gathering in a puddle of drying up water, the FROLINAT forces were sweeping in their way. Black Mamba had retrieved this info from the captured Kiro. If Black Mamba was attacked, it would be catastrophic, but they had no choice but to place him in the front. They needed his heightened senses to figure out the enemys movements. Black Mamba could see the complicated emotions on Captains face. A humans emotions are a combination of brain firings. By picking up on the resonating waves, he could read the change in emotions. We should be careful! Having become a human radar, Black Mamba felt a heavy burden. To save his comrades, he had used all his fighting skills at Uldi Harmarl. Ever since the battle, the way his comrades looked at him had changed. He felt like a monkey at a zoo. Black Mamba knew that his body was different than other peoples bodies. He casually tried to think that it was just due to his Asian facade. If they found out the wild darkness within him, they would treat him like a monster. There were M60s in Deltas trunk. Burimer was holding onto an M60 and had binoculars over his eyes. The guerrilla forces were familiar with the area. However diligently Burimer looked through his binoculars, it was difficult for him to find the hiding enemies. He had to be on full alert. When they passed Toco Dome, the scenery changed. The dry wadi and hard ground disappeared and small shrubbery and dunes started to appear. The biomes seemed to be changing drastically. Hilly dunes of pebbles-mixed-with-sand seemed to pop up at one moment, then a forest would appear, then a rocky mountain. When it hit noon, the sun glared down on them, and it felt like it would melt off their skin. Black Mamba took off the sweat-soaked goggles. Glistening eyes lay behind the dark face. In the mirror, he saw a man glaring at him with just the surrounding area of his eyes white like a panda. The Sahel sun was extremely different from the sun from his hometown. Within a week, his skin had turned dark. Only the skin inside the goggles retained their natural color. He had eaten enough protein so that his face did not look sunken, but he couldnt help getting his face burned by the UV rays, and his eyes burned. The goggles couldnt completely block out the strong rays of the sun. Tuareg people were not masked warriors but warriors who had no choice but to wear masks. The Straw Bridge Park Mu Ssang had become Sahels Black Mamba. Colonel Ahmud smiled baring his yellow teeth. Through the binoculars, he caught sight of the vehicle emitting dust clouds behind it. He looked around at his men positioned on top of the boulder. He felt secure. Its the first of the frog reconnaissance group. Ill hand them their tickets to hell. And for free. The bitter smile hung loosely from his thick lips. Ahmud had received information, three days ago, from Habib, that the French special forces were moving toward Bilmar. No one knew how the boss attained this information. Immediately, he had arranged surveillance at Bodl. Boruku and Bassa were Ahmuds designated areas. Three months ago, his territory had been widened thanks to receiving bikes from the Soviets. With a hundred bikes, he was able to make ten groups for surveillance. To catch the tail of the French special forces, he had released his surveillance group into Bodl. Thanks to them, he was able to succeed. He had gotten word of Mustas tragedy five days prior. He was flabbergasted that a major group was annihilated as such. Mustas troops were an independence battalion with 22 mountain warriors among them. They were formed as a way to counter Black Mambas skills. A majority of the mountain warriors were assassins. They had received in-depth training from the Soviets and were taught to use contemporary weapons. Receiving information that they too had been obliterated was unbelievable. Stupid Musta! Ahmud cursed Musta not knowing of Black Mambas existence. Musta was like a rhinoceros who only knew how to charge forward. Swept up by ambition, he had made a big mistake. Chapter 43 The biggest mistake was that they had not been on guard. However at home they may have been, whoever relaxed their guard deserved to die. The second mistake was that they had underestimated the enemy. They should have lured the enemy into an open area and surrounded them with their armed trucks and bikes. They had been idiots lured into the rocky hills because they didnt utilize their equipment properly. Ahmud scoffed at Musta for being unable to read the situation appropriately and being taken at Uldi Hamarl by the Lattell team. If humans knew their futures, how boring the world would be! It had been two hours since he figured out the location of Frances special forces. Thankfully, they approached the center point of the place they had been lying in wait at. Ahmud left his main troops 20km away while moving with 60 of his men on bikes. He was planning to do a blitz attack after proper surveillance and cutting off their resources. Three kilometers away, the pickup truck was slowly coming up the hill. Ahmud felt so much joy at watching the frogs crawl up into their net. Because Musta had been buried in the red stream, all of Habibs warriors had been in grasps reach. Ahmuds ambitions grew. If he destroyed Frances special forces and took over Makombo, he could grow his commission from 11 to 12. The leader of the northern army, Ahmud! Just thinking about it made his heart race. As Ahmud was lost in sweet dreams, Captain was stuck in a harsh reality. Captain tended to sweat a lot. He strangely drank coffee with salt in it. He had salt capsules the size of an aspirin that he kept as supplements. He could gulp them down without water. Paul always drank his coffee with salt in it. Although there was no evidence for it, he strongly believed that the salt given out in the army was mixed with drugs. He also carried the weird notion that strong coffee decreased the effects of the drugs. The taboos that mercenaries believed in had nothing to do with common sense. Cough, cough! Captain, who had been drinking the salted coffee, coughed harshly as if his throat would come out. After coughing violently, Captain spit out the coffee into his hand. Fuck, what is that! Paul yelled out loud. A black mass was wiggling in his palm. It was a large gadfly. The gadfly that had been going down his throat and then coughed back up was wriggling. It had been aiming to get some blood when it was seduced by the sweet scent of coffee and had fallen into it. Captain pressed the gadfly between his thumb and index finger and squashed it. Ugh, disgusting! He wiped his hands on his pants with his expression full of annoyance. Ombuti smiled with his teeth showing. Captain, flies and gadflies are not a good source of protein. If you want to gain some nutrients, you should be eating grasshoppers or beetles like Black Mamba. I know. This one just happened to have found a place to commit suicide. How desperately it must have hated Chad to want to commit suicide. Is that the reason? Ombuti stood numbly. Even joking around wasnt funny when their faces were completely covered as they were. It was because they couldnt read the other persons facial expression. Black Mamba had known that the gadfly had flown into Captains coffee, but he had let it be. It would have been a protein boost if it ended up in his stomach anyways. Wait! Ombuti, slow down. Ombuti stepped on the brakes and slowed down. Black Mambas face stiffened. It was the leaden smell of metal and gun powder. His sensitive nose picked up on the smell floating around in the air. He used his sensory skills, but it was hard to catch it. It was from extremely far away. He predicted that the location of their hideout was 1000 meters away atop a boulder on a hill. Captain, there are a lot of gadflies in the area. Wakil, which one is it? Black Mamba felt awkward with the nickname, but Ombuti insisted, so he now just accepted it. In the hills within the area. Distance is one thousand meters. I am not absolutely certain. The hills that they could barely see out in the distance were not that high up. The hills rose up 3~6m in height and were spread wide like a wall. It would be difficult to try to go around it. Captain held up his binoculars and looked left and right towards the hills in surveillance. I dont see any danger signs. Ack! Captain was shoved down into the dashboard like a rag doll. He had been dragged down by Black Mambas rough hands. Tango! Before Black Mamba even finished talking, gunshots rained on them like hail. Captain opened his headset. Its them. Spread out. Ombuti roughly turned the handle, but he was too late. From up in the hills, a 7.62mm bullet shattered their front window and pelted the body of the car. The fender and doors soon became ragged. Tatatata- Soon after, the noisy sound of gunshots started to be heard. Theyre not going to be easy. Ahmud clicked his tongue. They had figured out their attack a step too soon. A surprise attack was no longer possible, so all they could do now is engage in a full-out war. Shooters. Get the two in the front. From both the right and the left side, Degtyaryov machine guns fired. The Degtyaryov machine gun was created in 1928 by the Soviets in Degtyaryov. It was designed with a drum that held 47 bullets at a time. Degtyaryov was able to shoot 1500 meters and was an antique that had been used by the Soviet army in World War II. It was built simply, and its use was easy. Frolinat had received three thousand of these antiques from Liberia. Because of the number of bullets it could hold was set, its consecutive shot ability was limited; however, its power of destruction was just as good as the contemporary machine guns. The double shooters were at a distance of 800 meters away, where their smaller guns could not reach them. The tag team of the 4 machine shooters were highly dangerous. The three pickup trucks that had been following the lead of the one in front dispersed like scared spider babies. Charlie Delta, move side to side. Bravo, increase the distance. Hearing Captains command, the Bravo driver, Morris, hurriedly turned the pick up around and retreated. Jang Shin jumped out of the pickup after grabbing the MO60 from the equipment trunk. With Mikes help, Jang Shin was able to prep the grenade launcher with amazing speed. Ahmud smiled crudely. He was surprised by the speed of the enemys reaction, but it made no difference. There was nowhere for them to run. For maneuvering, his troops bikes were much more efficient. Killing a rat stuck in a trap would take very little effort. Ombuti put his head down low and maneuvered the pickup in a zigzag motion. The bullets pelted the side of the pickup truck. The bullets whizzing past their ears made chills go up their spines. Ombuti, left, Black Mamba screamed. Ombuti reflexively turned the handle to the left. Crash! In the direction of the path of the pickup, an RPG bomb came flying at them and exploded. Ack, why is an RPG flying all the way here? Captain, who was covered in dust, yelled. An RPG that usually only had a range of 300m flew in from 800m away. It was a situation worthy of Captain screaming. Oh no, they are trying to ignite our fuel. The shrapnel destroyed the fuel tanks. The moment Black Mamba finished his sentence, the back of the pickup truck burst into flames. Ya ili hai, hari keu! (Oh no, its fire!) Ombuti yelled. Arabic came out because he was in a state of panic. Mette bu ah rabhi! (We have to hurry and escape!) Black Mamba grabbed the panicking Ombuti by the back of the neck and jumped off of the vehicle. Ya ila hai! Ombuti screamed as he hit his head on the windshield. Captain, who had been in the back seat, also jumped off. Aflame, the speeding pick up made a loud noise then exploded. They had paid the price as the leader. Get down. Black Mamba shoved Ombuti into cover then jumped out like a puma. Oh no! He clicked his tongue. The gun in his hand was an AK gun. Even a god could not extend the limits of a guns shooting range. Black Mamba! Its the bikes, Captain yelled. Damn, shit! He couldnt help but curse. From behind the hills, about ten bikes were flocking toward them. They split side to side as they sped in their direction. They were trying to get rid of the backups. Black, catch. Captain threw him his Dragonov. Black Mamba didnt even look back as he turned his hand and caught it. He placed himself behind a small boulder so that it would act as a shield, then started to shoot. Bang- bang- bang- He grabbed the gun, got into position, marked his target, and shot them all in one breath. Hola! Captain and Ombuti both clenched their fists. The charging bikes consecutively fell into the ground one by one. Even fast-moving targets can be easy prey for snipers as long as there were no obstacles in the way. While Black Mamba got rid of the five coming from the left, Mike and his teammates got the five from the right. How could this happen, stop! Ahmud, in shock, hurriedly stopped the bikes from popping forward. The bike squad had been obliterated in a mere 5 seconds. He got chills. He had only heard about this formidable foreign sniper team. Is the grenade launcher ready? Were ready. While Ahmud was yelling commands, Captain was also yelling. Jang Shin, did you sell the grenade launcher to a peddler?! Boom! As if in answer, a 1.8kg bomb rang clearly in the distance. The 60mm M24 bomb flew 238m per second at them at a comparatively slow speed. 3 seconds later, the bomb exploded in the center of the hills. The machine gun was an easy way to take out the enemy. Although they were dealing with guerrilla warfare, the team used the machine gun as a back up in emergency situations. The French used the MO60 machine gun, which weighed 21kg. It had a range of 3500m, and its speed was its specialty. Unable to find the high-speed automatic gun, Captain had cried his way to get his hand on this weapon. Boom! At that moment, a grenade came flying at them from a distance. Jang Shin covered his head and shrank out of sight. You idiot! Its an empty can ten meters away. Catch their grenade launcher. He kicked Mikes butt. Jang Shin jumped in surprise, then attached the legs to the bottom of the launcher to change it to a shorter range shooter. Two, three, zero As Mike shouted out the position numbers, Jang Shin had already calculated the power, angle, and direction of the shot. Boom! The second shot fell squarely into the hills at their target. After coming to his senses, Jang Shin had sent the second bomb flying precisely at his intended location. Okay! Mike excitedly waved his arms. Sergeant Mike had come to his senses after being beaten senseless by Black Mamba. He was doing his job in assisting Jang Shin without a single complaint. Wng b dn, eat that. Boom- boom- boom- With the help of Belman and Mike, Jang Shin was able to launch the grenades in his unique fashion. To utilize the MO60 mine thrower, it required four positions: shooter, loader, ammo, and observer. Jang Shin was the shooter and observer, Mike was in charge of ammo, and Belman was the loader. Jang Shin sent a bomb flying every 3 seconds. Belman, who had been in charge of refilling the gun powder, was struggling to keep up with the demands. You punk, give us a chance to straighten our backs. The immense speed in which it was being launched caused Belman to yell at him. A grenade launcher was poor in accuracy and not efficient. As a consequence, the grenade launcher was usually used for regional targets instead of single location targets. Jang Shin changed this logic. He was the only shooter who could use a grenade launcher to attack specific targets. With Jang Shins skills, he was able to aim precisely and launch the grenade exactly into the hills where the enemy were hiding. A grenade launcher is difficult to maneuver because of its barrel and leg attachments. On the other hand, it was able to launch bombs long distances. Its range in distance and diameter of damage was much greater. Boom- boom- boom- Youre doing great! Captain exclaimed as he observed the results. The M24 bomb Jang Shin launched successfully fell 3m from his target and exploded his shrapnel in a 15m x 15m diameter. The Frolinat guerrilla forces were unable to escape the raining pieces of metal falling over their heads. Jang Shin launched bombs in 10m increments. In 2 minutes, he had taken 40 shots. He alone had obliterated their cover. Frolinat was in disarray. On top of the hills, the Ahmud troops had met their destruction. Chapter 44 Boom! The ASG17 bomb exploded at a point 2m away. The M24 bomb had 4 times the firepower of a grenade. Caught in the explosion, the shooter and his assistants body were ripped to shreds. The soldier in charge of ammunition had a worse fate. The grenade launcher flung into his body as it was caught in the blast. The unlucky ammunition soldier became fish meat. The expensive automatic grenade launcher was retired after five shots. It was Jang Shins hidden talent. The two locations where the machine guns were located were also blasted away in the explosion. It caused a steel rain that spread across a 2-3m diameter. There was nothing more effective at destroying the enemies undercover. Theres another Asian monster. That one is a bomb master. Mikes mouth dropped open. Id never think I would see a person using a grenade launcher like a gun. Captain, who had been observing, was also surprised. Jang Shin had been the one always throwing up whenever he witnessed Black Mambas massacres. The pathetic rookie had finally shown his amazing true potential. After the guerrilla forces were dispersed in a panic from the bomb attack, they were dealt with another critical hitBlack Mambas sniping. From the left, he used Dragonov to blast the shooters wrist off and the blow half the assistants face off. They were forced to hold their breath as machine guns fired from the right also. The intense training of the Lattell team and their experience with war had made them run like a well-oiled chainsaw. In the small moments of trade-off between Ahmuds shooters, Charlie and Delta tag teamed from both sides to bring them down. Charlies Emil and Morris used the M60 and minime while Deltas Burimer and Chartres started to attack. Frolinat couldnt even lift their heads once they started getting attacked. Anybody that peaked out was hit right away by Black Mamba. The aide got hit square in the face and fell backward. The aide had been waving a gun in front of him just moments ago. Ahmud hid his face and body behind a boulder as he jumped in fear, Ugh, how could this be! Ahmud wiped away the blood that splattered on his face with his hands. It was the blood from the face of his aide-de-camp. Ahmud couldnt believe it. A grenade launcher and gunsthe efficient combination was not something he could defend against. The enemy was at a disadvantage in numbers, but they were ruthless. Even though they had initiated a surprise attack, they flipped the tides with a well-executed counter-attack. Ahmuds eyes glazed over. It was not anger but fear in his eyes as he looked around him. Men buried under gun powder from the air explosion, men ripped to shreds from getting hit in the blast, men with their head blasted off from a gunshotthe hills were soaked with the blood of his men. Half his troops had been swept away. Complete annihilation was only a matter of time. He felt a sense of desperation. The frighteningly accurate attack had been impossible to defend against. There was no choice now. Ahmud decided on an all-out war. Everyone charge! Whaa, Alahu Akbar! Twenty bikes shot out. The shouts of the Frolinat soldiers rose up from the sound of gunshots. That, that! Ahmud was at a loss for words. The leading bike and rider fell like a leaf blown over by the wind. The bikes fell consecutively without even getting a chance to put up their guard. The 2 groups of bikes had been destroyed before they could even reach a distance of 300 meters. It had all happened within 30 seconds. The face of the remaining men behind him turned white. Ahmud had made the detrimental error of forcing his men into the mouth of the gator. The Lattell team had the monster Black Mamba. Even his backups were highly skilled snipers. The bikes who could not have cover were easy prey. I should crush them into pig feed! Ahmud ground his teeth. They were scarier than the North Korean soldiers. He looked back with an exasperated expression at the five or six surviving men. Of those left, there was none who was not injured. It was all because of that cursed bomber. Stop the operation, retreat! His men had fought valiantly, but his opposition was too strong. Ahmud got up on his bike without regret. What 20 years of war experience had taught him about survival was to read the situation quickly. The five or six remaining survivors did not look back and started to run away. -Ceasefire. At Captains command, the sounds of battle stopped instantly. The battle ended as quickly as it was brutal. It didnt take longer than 20 minutes. It was because both sides had held nothing back and gave it their all. The result was the annihilation of Frolinats 3rd brigade of Borukus reconnaissance team. -All report losses. -Burimer clear -Mike clear -Morris clear Lattell team had ended the battle without any casualties. The reason this was able to happen was because of Black Mambas early detection of the hiding Ahmud army and the precise bomb attack initiated by Jang Shin. It was also due to the fact that Ahmud had decided to attempt a long-range operation against a sniper team. The only person wounded on the Lattell team was Captain. He had torn his ear when he had jumped out of the speeding vehicle. Jang Shin was staring blankly at the targets without even thinking of organizing his equipment. The old launcher was burning red after shooting 50 shots. Ha ha ha, what should I use to cool down this burning hole? Mike laughed as he pulled out his penis and pissed on the gun barrel. According to the manual, you should pause 10 seconds after shooting 3 rounds. Jang Shin had insanely shot out 50 shots every 3 seconds. Jang Shin is amazing. You are the best shooter. Mike patted Jang Shins shoulder. Jang Shin, who had come back to his senses, smiled widely. A majority of the killed guerrilla troops were a result of the grenade launch. He was worthy of receiving praise. The smell of blood and gun powder surrounded the hills. Blood streamed down from between the boulders. The red blood made the already red rocks look more horrific. Charlie and Delta teams checked for survivors with emotionless faces. Clean, isnt it? Burimer kicked at a corpse whose head was halfway decapitated. As always, the corpses that Black Mamba attacked were clean. Compared to the corpses blasted away by the grenades, the ones with bullets through their head or heart were very clean. A majority of those hiding undercover on the hills were blasted by the grenade launcher. Jang Shins short-range shot had steel rain falling gruesomely over their heads. The ripped apart corpses were gruesome. Their innards spilled out; their eyes had popped out of their sockets and dangled. There were corpses with grey matter spilling out of their skulls. The ones who were alive were more grisly than the dead. Surprisingly, human life is a lot more resilient than most think. The wounded with their stomachs ripped apart, their chests broken, and body parts blown off yelled in pain. The ones who were dead were more at peace. Jang Shin didnt register the massacre he had induced. This was the difference between a gunner and a sniper. A sniper sees the fallen target spouting blood squarely through his scope. Their death is a direct consequence of their pulling the trigger. On the other hand, a gunner throws bombs based on location. He cannot see whether the enemy dies or not with his eyes. He does not see the death caused by his action. It would be like playing a game. The Sahel belts temperature difference in November was over 20. The possibility of the wounded guerrilla troops surviving in such conditions was low. They could either slowly dry up under the scorching sun or freeze to death from the sudden drop in temperature at night. Whether they dried up or froze to death, they would have to endure prolonged pain. There was even a high chance that hyenas could have eaten them alive after smelling their blood. Sergeant Mike took second in command Miguel and went to put an end to the wounded. If they were unable to call in medical help for them, it was more humane to kill them. Of course, they were not doing this for humane reasons but to block an information leak. In war, the word humanity does not exist. War was a collision of evil. Humanity in war is but a fantasy that only comes out in novels or movies. Burimers eyes widened upon finding the caravan and field artillery construction sight. They had not finished construction. Burimer turned back to Chartres. Is the pipe leaking? The horrific thought that their position was being leaked popped into their minds. No. We could have just been caught up by the guerrilla surveillance. Chartres disagreed. What are you talking about, we ran here as fast as we could from Olonga. They had bikes. They have better knowledge of the area and have more information than us. Chartres did not readily agree. It was too scary to agree with Burimers suspicions. No, somethings not right. We should talk with Captain. Burimer could not get rid of the nagging feeling. It felt like his uncomfortable suspicions were coming true. Captain, were out of bullets. Sergeant Burimer was worried. The sniper team had fought in three large battles as if they were the infantry. From the beginning, they had never expected to have to participate in such battles. Of course. We are mercenaries. Captain said this as if it was somebody elses business. If they lacked bullets, they could use the ones they looted. The battle they fought in Algeria and Sudan had been done with a majority of the enemys weapons and bullets. There was no weapon that he or his comrades could not control. Captain didnt worry much about the lack of their supply of bullets. Captain, theres something I would like to check. Chartres lead Captain to the construction site and showed him the sheltered camp. Damn, they had even built a field artillery. If we hadnt been quick enough, our corpses would have been spread all over this place. Captain clicked his tongue. If they shot at us from both sides with the artillery, we couldnt have survived. Beside him, Burimer nodded. If they had completed the construction of the cannon, they would have been in big trouble. Burimer, do you think the dirty assumption I hear in my head could be true? If it isnt, then it is hard to explain what happened. Captain got the nasty feeling that his irksome suspicions were becoming a reality. After the fruitless mission in Olonga, he was bothered by a consistent discomfort that felt like he didnt finish wiping after coming out of the bathroom. The battle at Uldi Harmarl had been a coincidence when they accidentally ran into the reconnaissance team upon first arriving at the Sahel belt. But the battle they just fought was difficult to think of as a coincidence. There was no way that Frolinat had a reconnaissance team. The Sahel belt is infinitely wide. Just the Bodele lowlands were 30,000km wide. The enemy had planned to stalk the Lattell team with their exact knowledge of their movements. Luckily, the opposition did not prepare themselves fully. It was because the Lattell team had ran at full speed to arrive there earlier than expected. The construction site that they saw in front of them had to have taken at least 3 days to build. Based on the dried state of the cement, two days had passed. If it had been 3 days ago, it would have been when they had arrived near Olanga. What if the guerrilla had gone through here after creating their camp? They would have been buried in gun powder and obliterated. Their corpses would have been lined up like a tri-colored parade on its floors. Is the information being leaked? From where? The information is being leaked! Just thinking about it made chills run down their back as if they had been doused in ice water. The Lattell team was not an army meant for a prolonged battle. They were meant to go in and come out quickly as a rescue team. The rescue teams purpose relied on stealth. If their operation path is revealed, they become mere fish being hoarded into nets. If they were to ever come under siege, the Lattell team would disintegrate in an instant. Captains heart felt heavy. Their mission was important, but as a leader, he felt obligated to maintain their survival. Mercenaries are still somebodys sons and fathers. The only place where their information could be being leaked was from the DGSE main headquarters. Could it be from our side? Am I just being paranoid? Even though their situation warranted suspicion, DGSEs main headquarters had no reason to leak their information. They racked their brains about it, but they could not find an answer. There hadnt been any indication that a traitor was found in the DGSE main headquarters. Still, they didnt want to stupidly stand around trapped in a net and showered with bullets. Captain pulled at his hair while he finished confirming the state of the rest of the soldiers. The wounded begged for mercy in words they could not understand. The mercenaries coldly shot them in the head. Black Mamba stared forward with an expressionless face. Mu Ssang may have been a monk, but Black Mamba was the angel of death. A living rebel is dangerous. A dead rebel is nothing but a mass of muscle. What this meant was that he was not human, but merely the enemy. He seems to have already become immersed in the madness of war. Chapter 45 Check again. If even one of them is alive, our location will be compromised. Jang Shin, you punk, check again. Morris, what are you doing? Check over there again. Sergeant Mike kept nagging them even after they had finished checking. He was just angry he didnt get a chance to participate in the battle. He may be a mouse in front of Black Mamba, but his bad personality wasnt going anywhere. That punk sure is strong-headed. The ears of the laughing Black Mamba picked up something. Yeah, are any of them alive? he wondered. He sensed a life force so thin only he would have been able to pick it up. Black Mamba followed his senses toward the being that was flitting between life and death. There were two corpses with collapsed chests in the middle of the explosion aftermath. He kicked at the corpses with his army boots. It was a child soldier. He looked to be around thirteen or fourteen years old. He wasnt old enough to leave the security of home and be out in the world alone. The child soldier was grabbing onto his ripped stomach with both hands. The broken ribs and thin neck made him look pitiful. Their eyes met. His soulless eyes were full of his sense of futility. Black Mamba lifted his glock but could not bring himself to pull the trigger. Child soldier Murcys hazy mind returned to consciousness. It was the surge before death. He had lost too much blood. He couldnt move his body, but his mind was clear. Through his hazy vision, he could see the orange brown army uniform. It was the enemy. All the things that happened for the last several months flashed before him. When the sun was going down, he had been coming back after herding the goats as always. His younger brother had been waiting for him. He was twelve years old, and his brother was nine. They had met up with a group of soldiers at the town entrance. They shot and killed his brother then dragged him away. He was worried about his brother and the goats, so he resisted. They had shot the goats as well. The three goats they had were all his family owned. The place they arrived at after walking all night was to a small mountain village. There they gave him a gun made of wood. He prepared the meals for the Peoples Liberation Army and received training with his wooden gun. After a month passed, they gave him a real gun. From that point on, the training became intense. Other than time to sleep and eat, all he did was train. He no longer had time to worry about his brother or his goats. The training was not hard. Shooting, charging, disassembling the gun, throwing grenadesthat was all there was to the training. Memorizing was harder than the actual training. He was forced to memorize the history of the Peoples Liberation Army and the pledge of loyalty to Habib. They were taught that they would go to heaven if they died following their commands every day. After two months of training, he was assigned to a troop. They said the best commander was Colonel Ahmud. After being assigned, his training and loyalty brainwashing continued. There were 320 men in the unit. Half of those in the unit were child soldiers like himself. The only command Murcy received was to kill the enemy. He was told that he had to kill at least one enemy for Allah to give him a blessed life. The lesson he had been taught popped into his head. He had heard it every day, so it came to mind without much thought. You are Allahs servant. If you run away, you will be rot forever in the depths of hell. Even if you die, die after killing the enemy. Only after killing at least one enemy soldier will you be able to stand on the right hand side of Allah. Murcy was in pain, but he gathered all his remaining energy. There were the words that his instructor had taught him to say any time he felt scared to give him courage. His vocal cords were damaged, so the sounds he made were broken. Yawm al-din al-Amr Arif bi-Allah, judgment will be made as is commanded. I am liberated. Chartres saw the smile hanging on the child soldiers lips. Black Mamba, who had been lost in his thoughts, did not see it, but the quick Chartres was sharp. Tick- Black Mambas ears heard a soft metallic click. Ah peul la tee. Kkong!(Lie down. You idiot)! Whoosh- At the same time as his yell, he heard the sound of air escaping as if from a rubber tube. Blood splattered from the child soldiers head. It was Chartres from behind Black Mamba. The head of the child soldier who got shot fell back. The two hands which had been grabbing his stomach dropped. Murcy forgot his pain and was at peace. He no longer had to worry about his brother or his goats. Ah! Black Mamba exclaimed. From the ripped stomach, a grenade with its pin removed rolled toward them. The grenade was drenched in red blood. A grenade is not something that is thrown and explodes at once when the pin is removed as seen in the movies. A grenade has two safety features, a safety pin and a clip. The safety clip can only be removed once the safety pin is removed. Once the soldier throws the grenade, the safety lever releases, and the striker throws the safety lever away from the grenade body as it rotates to detonate the primer. The primer explodes and ignites the fuse. Even if the safety clip is removed, if you hold onto the body to hold the safety lever down, the striker cant detonate the primer. The delayed reaction for the explosion is about 3-4 seconds. It is the time it takes to throw it. An infantry grenade is thrown about 25m per second. If it is thrown a distance of 35 meters, it will explode 1-2 seconds after hitting the ground. They couldnt know when the child soldier had let go of the safety lever. Warning bells instantly went off in his head. The nerves activated him to go into the actin to create a quick response. Grenade! Black Mamba explosively kicked off the ground the moment he sensed danger. The ground beneath him was dug up by the strength in which he kicked off it. He dived between the corpses with a speed that cut through air like a sprinter. Boom! A loud explosion rang. Ack! Black Mamba was flown back from the explosion while holding the guerrilla corpse and rolled down the hill. He hit his head hard on the red sandstone and lost consciousness. The area where the shrapnel had swept across was littered with flying body parts. Ack! Chartres, who quickly threw himself under some cover, screamed. The team members, surprised by the explosion, ran towards them. Jang Shin and Emil ran to Black Mamba. Hey, Black! Black! The flustered Emil grabbed Black Mamba and shook him hard. You idiot, are you trying to kill Black? Jang Shin hit Emil on the back of the head. Emil came back to his senses and laid Black Mamba back down. Jang Shin removed Blacks clothes and carefully examined him. His hardened muscles, which were like a wired rope, was revealed. The blood-soaked muscles looked unreal. Wow! Even at this moment, Emil touched Black Mambas chest muscles and exclaimed. Wang Ba Dan! Move over, you old punk Jang Shin, annoyed by his behavior, pushed Emil away. Black Mambas upper body was dyed in blood. Shrapnel was lodged all over his body, and he was cut up pretty badly. Belman! Black got hit, Emil yelled as Belman ran hurriedly over. What the heck is going on after the fightings already over! Belman muttered under his breath as he pulled back Black Mambas eyelids and checked his ears. He pulled out tweezers and removed the shrapnel from Black Mambas body. Geez, the shrapnel couldnt penetrate his muscles. Hes not human! After getting rid of the shrapnel, he slapped Black Mambas cheeks. Wake up. You idiot! After getting slapped several times, Black Mamba amazingly opened his eyes. His pupils couldnt focus and wandered as he stared into the air. What is it? Jang Shin approached Belman as if he was ready to hit him as he saw his rough behavior. Hes fine. What? Thats fine? Jang Shin screamed in an outburst. It looks worse than it is. The shrapnel just barely penetrated his skin. The rest are just scratches. From the looks of it, Black flew out in the direction of the blast. He threw up blood, but it was due to his innards being shaken by the pressure of the blast. Its much better than internal bleeding. The biggest injury is the bump on his head. His ears seem fine too. He opened his mouth and blocked his ears during the blast. A monster is surely different. He did everything he could to survive the blast. After hearing Belmans explanation, Jang Shin and Emil stared at each others faces. In that short of a time? Belmans gaze fell again on Black Mamba. I dont get it either. This guy is just a monster. Hes lucky, too. Sterilize the wound and wrap it up in bandages. Belman tossed the bandages and alcohol to Jang Shin, then ran to Chartres. Jang Shin looked down blankly at the corpse that Black Mamba had used as a shield. It was riddled with shrapnel. Black Mamba had seven lacerations, and as Belman said, the rest was just cuts and scratches. Black Mamba had been within one meter of the explosion. In the blink of an eye, he had thrust his body over ten meters and used the corpses as a shield. The skill itself was surprising, but his survival instincts were amazing. My partner is Azrael. Who dare tries to take him to Hades? Emil smiled. Black Mamba was not just a casually claimed nickname. Burimer, who had been assessing the situation, shook his head. As Belman had said, his monstrous physicality and luck had been on his side. There was a reason Belman said it was luck. There are three major reasons humans get hurt or die in an explosion. The first is the pressure of the impact. The explosion itself damages the body. Second is the shrapnel. The shards of the exploding material or the broken pieces of the surroundings cause injuries from impact with it. The third is the aftermath, the damages that occur from the explosion gases or being thrown from the blast. When a strong explosion happens, even if the body is not injured by the flying shrapnel, the aftermath of the explosion can cause serious injuries and lead to death. Aftermath consequences usually cause internal damage. If the explosion happened indoors, the pressure change would be greater and cause more severe injuries. Black Mamba had avoided all three. If luck had not been on his side, even Black Mamba couldnt have survived this. Black Mamba had woken up while Jang Shin and Emil had been making a ruckus. As if a thick fog had come over him, his ears rang and his head felt numb as if he had been hit by a large dump truck. Black, any problems? Captain ran over a bit late. No problem! Haha. Black Mamba smiled as he looked up at Captain. Captain was the type of person who looked like he wouldnt even bleed if he was pricked. His flustered state made him laugh. Huh, you seem fine. Of course, why should I even worry about Azrael, who controls death. Captain checked Black Mambas condition, then ran to Chartres. Chartres was 7 meters outside the blast radius, but his state was not good. How is he? He doesnt have any critical injuries. Belman cut Chartress chest and pulled out shrapnel the size of a finger. His left shoulder was bleeding profusely also. This one is in a bit deep. Belman cut the areas that he needed to remove the shrapnel from. Chartres, who had returned to consciousness, started to scream. Ack, you quack, morphine! Oh right! I forgot the anesthetic. Sorry. Belman didnt look at all sorry as he pulled out a morphine injection from his kit. Dont even bother saying youre sorry, you quack. Im sorry, Chartres. You woke up too early. Belman moved slowly as he apologized in a joking fashion. Oh God, Im gonna go crazy. Why do I bother? Chartres complained. Chartres had gotten injured in several places, but have been far from the blast, he didnt have pressure-induced wounds. Captain, from the look of all his fussing, I dont think hes going to die. Quack, is that something you should be saying to a patient? Can you be more gentle? Chartres yelled at him. This guy is becoming a cry baby as he gets older. You butcher shop worker! Haha! I am a butcher, arent I? Belman smiled as he pulled out the shrapnel and bandaged him up. Captain burst out laughing upon seeing the doctor and patient bicker. If a doctor had cut open a patient without anesthetic in a civilian hospital, his license would have gotten revoked. Belman would be disqualified as a downtown doctor but as a war doctor, he was one of the best. You dont deserve to call yourself a doctor. Dont worry. I dont intend to make a living as a doctor. Belman didnt lose one word to him and replied to every retort. It was a skill he learned to prevent the patient from going into shock. Oh, this quack is going to be the end of me, Chartres muttered in exaggerated pain. Chapter 46 Be glad we still have plenty of bandages. If we didnt, I would have had to wrap you up with tree bark. For the time being, try not to move as much as possible. Belman tied up the tightened bandages, then fed him a handful of antibiotics. Chartres lamented, What is this after the war is all over? Oh, what about Black Mamba? He looked fine. Fine? It exploded right in front of Black. Look at him; hes fine. He heard a familiar sound in his ears. Chartres turned his head. He had turned his head so fast they were worried he would break it. The two surprised eyes looked Black Mamba up and down. What in the world? How could this be! I was lucky. Sorry. Black Mamba had deja vu about an explosion incident in his childhood. At the time, it had been agonizing and difficult. Again, it was his fault. He couldnt help feeling sorry. Belman looked at Chartres and drawled on, The guy that should have died is fine, but the guy ten meters away is this mess. Chartres, you got old. You should just go back and see your grandkids. That quackI didnt even get a chance to get married. The seeds you spread across Kalbi and Ajaccio alone would have created tens of children. Belman continued to poke fun at him. Black Mamba drooped his head in front of Chartres. If he had killed the child soldier without hesitating, Chartres wouldnt have gotten injured. Sorry. I lack experience. This is how you learn. This was what I was talking about the last time you encountered a child soldier. The grenade would have exploded anyway. Theres no reason to feel guilty over it. Black, its lucky werent hurt. Chartres consoled Black Mamba coolly. After saying a few words, Chartress body started to tremble. He was going into shock. Belman pulled out atropine from the first aid kit and injected it into his thigh. Is his condition bad? Captain asked. Hes in shock. The external injuries arent bad, but his lungs seem to be damaged from the pressure of the blast. I suspect its air embolism. Air what? Whats that? Arterial air embolism is usually a condition that arises from underwater diving, but sometimes it happens after an explosion. The sudden pressure change after an explosion causes damage to the lungs. Air gets locked in the blood vessels. Its not in a serious state right now, but he needs to stay under observation. What about Black Mamba? He got a big bump on the back of the head. It will probably hurt a lot. Haha! That sure must hurt a lot. What a cause for celebration, Captain laughed jovially. He had heard no problem from the owners own lips, but he couldnt completely stop worrying. Finding out Black Mamba was alright caused him to burst into laughter. He forgot for a moment that Chartres got injured. Black Mambas state was that much more important. Captain, there isnt time to bury the corpses. Leave it, the hyenas have to eat too, Captain told him coolly. He had no intention or time to gather all the dispersed body parts and bury them. He was rushed enough to just gather all the equipment. Amidst the mess of war, Black Mamba showed up with a cigar in his mouth. He looked completely fine. When Black Mamba showed up, Mike stopped nagging his team members. He dragged the wounded and slowly retreated back. Black Mamba was an obstacle in Mikes life. Black Mamba did not join them in cleaning up after the war. He sat under the shadow of a boulder and smoked. Ombuti pulled out his gun and kept guard. Even though it was evening, the hoard of flies blanketed the corpses in black. The battle at Uldi Harmarl had been a head-on fight, so he had been drenched in blood afterward. This time it had ended only with sniping, but the end was still bitter. The murdered guerrilla troops were mostly preteens or teenagers. They were the age where they should be chatting with friends at school. At the thought of these child soldiers, his heart ached. The acts of man can be either muddy or sturdy as a rock. The only evidence of what those acts meant is the passage of time. Everything gets accustomed to things as time passes. If I have to die, then Ill die! Black Mamba muttered in exclamation. Mu Ssang had been saddened by the falling of petals from the gust of rainy wind. Mu Ssang who had felt sorry for a dragonfly whose wings had been torn was now reborn as the Black Mamba of war. His teacher had told him to do his best in any given position he was in. The best in the given position? It was bitter, but right now it was murder. Black Mamba gazed up and blew out white smoke. Burimer handed Captain the supply report. The killed enemy count is 57. The supply and loot count is listed in the report. Fifty-seven? at Uldi Harmarl it was 198. Exactly how many do we have to kill? Whew! Captain lifted the report and sighed deeply. He was now getting confused as to whether they were the rescue team or the eraser team. Pickup: 3 good condition Bike: 2 good condition Field rations: 1 meal per person, 5 servings left Water: 150 Liters Mine thrower: 1, M24 bomb 10, flash grenade 5, smoke grenade 5 Recoilless guns: 84mm Carl Gustaf M2 1, FFv441 short-range bullets 20 Minimee, M60 gun: 3 bullets 1800 Landmines: M74 antipersonnel mines 60 sets, Claymore 10 sets Grenades: 10 Rifle grenades: 20 shots Dragonov: 5, bullets 2,000 Pamus: 11, bullets 1,600 Beretta: 3 Glock: 7 Loot: AK47 40, bullets 8,000 Degtyaryov machine gun: 3, 47 magazines, 10 bullet cartridges with 6,000 each ASG17 automatic launcher: 1, grenades 90 Captain frowned after reading halfheartedly through the report. We are running low on mortar bombs and minimee bullets. Were almost completely out of Pamus bullets, Burimer told him as if it wasnt a big deal. We can replace the Pamus with the AKs. Tell Habib that we thank them for refiling it for us. Why did you bring over the Degtyaryov. That thing is older than you are. You think it will even work properly? We are short on minimee and M60. We could use it in an emergency. Its better than not having it. When we return to Aubagne, we can gift it to the elders. This is the first time Ive actually seen it. This darned AK is so common. Rifles are easy enough to loot and use. Good, give it to the team members and tell them to use it. Burimer pointed at Jang Shin. Jang Shin lifted the heavy automatic grenade launcher with some difficulty and took it away. The launchers weight was 31kg. The small Jang Shin was forced to drag the thing. Captains eyes got wide. What is this? Isnt this the ASG17?! Thats right. Its a monster than can launch 50 30mm grenades at a time. Its designed to hold 30 shot clips. Whew, Jang Shin played a big part. Oh, you cute little thing. Captain pinched Jang Shins cheek and shook it. He patted his chest. ASG17 was Soviet-designed and only given to the highest platoons. Its range is 1700m and could shoot 50 shots per minute. If the enemy had used it, they would have been in big trouble. Arent these a bit too luxurious for those poor fools to get a hand on? I suppose so. Im surprised by it also. Frolinat may be miserably poor, but the polar bears have ridiculously large amounts of weapons, and Gaddafi has ridiculous amounts of money. It meant that Gaddafi bought it from the Soviets and handed it out to Frolinat. Why werent they using it? Because Jang Shin sent them all flying from the get-go. With Black Mamba backing him up, they probably didnt even get a chance to hold the handle. Captain stared at the blood and skin splattered on the grenade launcher. The air attack probably had swept the shooters away, and the launcher itself was sent flying due to the blasts. Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps. Jang Shin, do you think its okay to use? Theres a lot of scratches, but we can use them. Good, we can attach them to the vehicles or Black Mamba can carry it around with him. How many grenades do we have left? Burimer glared with narrowed eyes at Captain. If he wasnt even going to properly read it, why did he make him write the report? He uses his rank like a gang leader. Three clips, 90 shots. We were well rewarded. Thanks to them. Please make sure to tell Habib how grateful we are to them. We can thank them after blowing their head off. What should we do about requesting more supplies? Lets try to make do for now. Oui, we can refill our vehicles with fuel from their bikes. Sounds good. Restock the weapons we need then get rid of the rest. Record the coordinates though. We lost a pickup truck so were short on space also. Captain and Burimer did not think they were in such a bad situation. They were not fully stocked, but they could refill their needs with their gathered loot. The small number of sniper bullets was not that much different than what they regularly carried. If the infantries had fought against each other, they would have used thousands of bullets. During the war, there are most wasted bullets than those actually used to hit the targets. Lattell teams bullet use was hundreds of times more efficient. It was the reason they didnt need large quantities of bullets at their disposal. Captain, worried about the enemy following them, hurriedly left the scene. That night, they found a rest stop 100km from the battleground of Gouradi in Amzuo. There was about 70km left before they reached Ekiya. Chartres woke up from his anesthetic in the early morning. He laughed as he saw the thickly-wrapped bandages around his chest and shoulder. Other than the headache from the injury, his condition was not too bad. When he turned his head, he saw Black Mamba leaning on the bed sleeping. He hit the bed frame with his palm. Hey Black, did you get kicked out by your wife? The nagging started the moment Black Mamba opened his eyes. Look, Black, you need to maintain your condition. The success of the team strategy is one thing, but the survival of the team is in your hands. Lay down and sleep. Geez, Xanthippe wouldnt have nagged as much as you, old man, Black Mamba muttered as he put his hand on Chartress forehead. His forehead was still hot. Youre the problem, old man. You could make a scrambled egg on that forehead of yours. From the looks of your nagging, I guess you wont be kicking the bucket any time soon. How are you feeling? Whew, Im getting old. All worn out because I got a couple of toothpicks stuck in me. Chartres sighed. Sure, sure whatever. Bathroom? Ugh, youre not even a girl; I have no interest in smelly men. Chartres refused Black Mambas help and left the barracks in a stumbling fashion. The eastern sky started to brighten. Turning his back on the dawn sky, they stood side by side and pulled out their packages. After casually taking care of his business, he pointed at Black Mambas package and started to chuckle. Your package is not monstrous though. For an Asian, Im pretty big. Black Mamba tried to persuade him, but he didnt even pretend to listen. I doubt you would even be 5 inches. Black Mamba retorted angrily, It doesnt even make a difference when Chartres gets aroused. When Koreans get aroused, it grows twice its size. Ha, before I see it, I wont accept your word for it. Just so you know, when mine is raised, its ten inches. You arent human. A man is measured by his girth, no? Cartres put strength in his shoulders and dusted off the large item. Damn, whats the point if its big? Theres nothing to use it on. Speaking of using it, I suddenly miss my girlfriend. She used to say that a lot. Experience is not just gained by time. Chartres tried his best to relieve Black Mambas distress by uttering all sorts of nonsense. What does Yawm al-din, al-Amr, Arif bi-Allah mean? You amazingly remembered. Yawm al-din means the day of judgment. According to the Koran, it says that the dead of the world will come out of their graves and be reunited with their bodies. They then believe that Allah will pass judgement on them. Al-Amr means the ultimate command, Arif bi-Allah means chosen by God, hence, it means that the chosen ones will be granted perfect freedom. They were chosen with spiritual intent and so upon following the command, they will be saved on the day of judgment. He was flabbergasted after hearing the explanation. It was nothing short of fanaticism. Yawm al-din, al-Amr, Arif bi-Allah! He muttered the prayer that the child soldier had exclaimed. Chapter 47 Thats ridiculous. The Muslim religion is even pushing children into death, Black Mamba complained angrily to Chartres. The Muslim religion has nothing to do with it. The dirty rebels kidnapped children and brainwashed them. They are only children who know nothing of this Black Mambas painful childhood was a trauma of his. The young child soldiers had always made his heart uncomfortable. Black Mamba, how many times do I have to tell you. Stop thinking useless things. The child soldiers have already killed people and been accustomed to bloodshed. Brainwashing before they are able to form an identity for themselves completely destroys a persons original nature. They may be young, but they are even scarier monsters. They follow every instruction of the commander. They are scarier than adults. Hm, I know that but He couldnt help but sigh. The most difficult and burdensome thing during their operations were the child soldiers. Every time they fought, he was forced to kill children, which burdened his heart greatly. Where humans live, there are more dark corners than those of brightness. Those who used others and those who are used, those who steal and those who get stolen from, those who command and those who listenhe too had lived being controlled like this in Korean! In the world of Sabha, everywhere was the same. Dont overthink it. Dont forget you are a mercenary. Chartres patted his shoulder then went back into the barracks. He stumbled a bit but rejected all offers of help. It was an old soldiers pride. Black Mamba stared a long time at his back. The darkness lightened, and the cantonment started to stir. Captain decided to move by day instead of his original plans to move at night. It was because his troops condition had drastically been weakened by the prolonged operation. Captain was more worried about their stamina than their protection. Humans are better equipped to function by day. Millions of years worth of genetics had created this body rhythm, and it was difficult to make it think the night was the day. Emil and Miguel were prepping their meals, and Jang Shin and Burimer were preparing the pickup. The rest of the troops were checking their equipment and getting ready to leave. Black Mamba was stretching his body with his meditation as always. Captain frowned heavily and was lost in deep thought. He had to decide whether he should move with the main headquarter or on their own. Lieutenant Paul had worked in the internal affairs department for 20 years. His head told him he had to trust the main headquarters, but his heart refused the trust. They had been forced into large battles every time they had started an operation. It had already happened three times in a row. Even if Botele was Frolinats home ground, logically it was hard to wrap his head around it. If something illogical happened, then there is a reason for it. With three battles, they had killed 254 people. This was not the stats of a rescue team, but that of a clean up team. This battle was dangerous too. Black Mambas incredible skills and Jang Shins ghost-like grenade skills were the only reason they survived this. Frolinats northern army was a complete brigade. One brigade fighting the entire northern army? That would be as rash as diving into the ocean to catch a great white shark with a harpoon. Even if they are mere soldiers who live and die according to their given commands, this is not right. As a high ranking official, he shouldnt be suspicious of the organization but the filthy feeling of betrayal stuck to him. The strategy headquarters DGSE received the information and handed it to the strategy team. Is it the DGSE? They would send out the best rescue team to play around with them? That didnt make any sense. There was a low possibility that DGSE would be pulling such a stunt behind their back. However much they thought about it, they couldnt figure out an answer. My brain doesnt work very well anymore ever since all Ive been doing is shooting. As long as we are in uniform, we cant ignore their commands. I also dont want to get stabbed in the back. Captain set his suspicions aside for now. He decided to concentrate on their given mission, but keep a hidden card up his sleeve just in case. How is Chartress condition? He is getting noticeably better. What I suspected as an air embolism turned out to just be internal bleeding. Do we need an evacuation? He is adamantly refusing it. He says he cant leave behind his comrades because of a little scratch. That stubborn old man. Whats your judgement on the situation? Belman said that as long as there are no other complications, hell soon be able to be active. Burimer sidestepped the question. He didnt want to be held responsible for his comrades injury. Hm, it will be difficult to get a helicopter here. Chartres is the best at booby traps. For the best escape route, they needed Chartres. Thats true. Chartres is also the best at RPG. Lets see what happens for now. Captain put Chartress evacuation on hold for now. Saving their necks was more important at the moment. Chartres would not like the idea of an evacuation right now anyways. However, the teams condition is deteriorating. Miguel is showing symptoms of lethargy. Alright, Ill look after them. Miguel was lying droopily under the shade of a boulder. He didnt even shoo away the hoard of flies crawling over his face. Its the first symptom of lethargy. It was not looking good. Miguel, how are you? No problem! Miguel smiled and looked up at Captain. Stay strong Miguel, well end this soon and drink until we pass out at a bar in Meridian. Of course. We have someone on our side thats no normal human. With Black Mamba, we cant help but succeed. The strength came back into Miguels eyes. With Black Mamba on their side, there was still hope. Why did he ever think that it would be difficult? Miguel shot up and called Belman over. Quack, give me a shot of atropine. Captain sighed in relief. After going into battle three times, Black Mamba had become their guardian angel. It was a great consolation to have such an invincible member on their team. It was the 9th day they had been battling it out in the badlands and the desert. The dry Sahel belts midday heat was suffocating. When night came, it was so cold, they could feel it penetrating their bones. The drastic temperature changes were hacking away at their stamina. This place was difficult even for the special forces who endured hellish training. None of the team members were injured or ill, but their exhaustion ran high. Each one of them had white cracked lips and bloodshot eyes. Their skin became dry, and dark circles drooped an inch under their eyes. They were enduring every sort of physical and mental hardship. Brother, I miss Corsicas Ponant, Jang Shin complained with his white cracked lips. Ponant had an emerald ocean surrounding it with cool winds. All the soldiers who were sick of the sandy winds of the Sahel nodded. Anger rose up from Captains chest. If everything had gone as planned, they would have already caught Raccoon and be on their way home. They would have been celebrating by fondling full breasts at Meridian. The reality was that they didnt even catch a glimpse of the Raccoons tail and were wandering around aimlessly getting hit by sand storms. There was no point in encountering the guerrilla troops who hoarded around them like flies. His comrades were tired, and the enemy was everywhere. A majority of the Borkou natives were at the mercy of Frolinat. They could be caught at any time by an intel officer or a guard. They could never be sure when a guerrilla troops bullet could be directed at them. They were essentially thrown naked into a pit of hyenas. The desolate Sahel of Northern Chad was trying to swallow 11 mercenaries. Those damn punks! Captain clenched his fists and shook in fury. He wanted to shoot the government fools that planned such a stupid tactic. No, Black Mambas kukri will not forgive them. Captain pushed down his anger an raised the antennae of the satellite phone. He extended the antennae, which looked like a giant umbrella while his anger exploded. As big as a golf umbrella, the Lone Elsa Satellite Antenna was a bit cumbersome to use in the open. On the other hand, the WDCOM Satellite Antenna used by the US and England was compact enough to fit inside a pocket. Frances defense industry, due to nationalization, lost its creativity and ended up with just side effects. The dinosaur-sized defense industry became sluggish and stupid. Plus, they had such high pride that they refused to even make copies. -This is Bravo, come in Alpha. -Bravo, Ive been waiting for you. -Alpha, there was a large battle at Guradi. 57 were killed. - The headquarter commander was so surprised he was at a loss for words for a moment. -Bravo, the damage? -Alpha, 57 were killed. Sergeant Chartres is injured. If his condition gets worse, we will request an evacuation. -Ci gogne se! The headquarter commander stuttered. -Alpha, were requesting supplies. -Bravo, you may speak. -Two pickups, two minimee with 5000 bullets, MO60 mine thrower and 10 boxes of grenades, two automatic grenade launchers and 10 boxes of bombs, twenty sets of Claymore mines, five Pamus, night vision goggles, scope, headset batteries -Bravo, understood. Are you planning to cause an upheaval in Chad? -Alpha, at this point, I would like to do that. The location is 10 miles north of Tanga oasis; the coordinates are 020 424. The receiving time requested is at 1800 hours. As planned, we will go into Ekiya oasis. -Bravo, understood. -I almost forgot, there is an item you must bring with you. Its Black Mambas personal item. Make sure to bring Korean ramen. Its a dried pasta in red packaging. -Bravo, understood. After finishing with the satellite phone, Captain smiled coldly. He had intentionally not mentioned Anju and told them the coordinates for Tanga. The location that Captain directed them was 10km away from the point where the Lattell team would be hiding. Burimer, we threw in a big bait, so should we just wait? Is it a mirror meeting? Well, we have to receive payment. We can resolve two things at once. The solution that Captain came up with was a sleazy tactic called a mirror meeting. Mirror meeting is revealing a false location to make a counter-attack. The motive was to find the hidden mole. The slight difference of this mirror meeting was that they were planning to get actual supplies delivered to the false location. Its drool-worthy bait. There will be no way for the mole to resist it. I bet my Kepi Noir that they will show up, Burimer answered confidently. The foreign troops wear the Kpi Blanc. Kepi Noir was worn by the Sergeants and Officers. They differentiated row 5 with distinction. Theres no reason to wear the sweaty hat. Just find the best position to be in sight of the mirror. You intentionally let it slip that we were going toward Ekiya oasis, didnt you. Hm, they may be drooling over our loot, but their main objective is our necks. If the information is being leaked, the rebel troops will start moving toward Ekiya. What do we do if the mirror punks show up? Is there a reason to go around with a tail on us? At Captains question, Burimer shrugged his shoulders. He could feel Captains stress. We have to destroy them. Thats right. Black Mamba is a god of fighting at night. He may be hiding it from me, but he cant fool me. Hahaha! Is that so? Did you not see him at Uldi Hamarl? When Black was fighting with the guerrilla troops, he didnt have night vision goggles on. Whether its some mysterious martial arts skill or a superpower, Black Mamba has the eyes of an owl. I, I see. Burimer nodded his head. He was such an interesting character that it had bypassed his mind. Now that he thought back to it, Black had definitely been fighting all over the place without night vision goggles on. With Black on our side, its game over for the opposition when fighting at night. We can destroy them, then move to the changed location to receive our supplies. Its a bit messy, but as of right now, its the best decision. Dont tell the team members. This is an embarrassing operation due to us not trusting headquarters. Dont you think we ought to tell Black? Forget it. Everyone is in awe of Blacks strength, but hes an intelligent fellow. He probably already figured it out. Well cut off the tail, check row 5, and receive payment. Thats killing three birds with one stone. Well. It isnt a welcome three birds. Looks like Black Mamba will be covered in blood again. Captain and Burimer looked at each other with bitter smiles. If the rebel troops came for their loot like a pack of dogs? Black Mamba would pluck them off one by one in the wide-open space. In addition, the Claymore and land mines would greet them warmly. At the base of Zamjena, they even released coordinates 578km away. The flight speed of the Gazelle would make it arrive in 2 hours and 32 minutes. Even if the helicopter arrived late, it would need to get here by 21 hours and 30 minutes. Chapter 48 Chinooks emergency radio functioned even in severe weather. The helicopter received information about the changed location. They used every fail-safe to make sure the information was not leaked. Captain yelled at his team members, who were rushing to start leaving. What are you doing, get some rest and lets eat lunch before heading out. Another battle was anticipated. It was time to get fully rested and recharged. Mike glanced over at Captain, then yelled, What are you doing? Hurry! Jang Shin, are you finished checking the equipment? Yes, sergeant. Miguel, start the engine. Emil, do you want to get your butt kicked? Mike nagged at his team members fervently. Jang Shin had lifted his spoon late to finally eat after finishing loading the vehicles, but threw it down and ran to the pickup. Emil and Miguel jumped onto the pickup and grabbed the machine gun, and Ombuti started the engine. Even the sluggish Morris grabbed his gun and ran. Mike and the team members had assumed wrong. They thought that Captain was nagging them because they were moving too slowly. Thats how anxious they had been. Oh, you guys are driving me insane! Captain watched his team members scramble around like popping popcorn and hit his chest. Mike, what do you think youre doing? Tell them all to stop and rest. Sergeant Mikes eyes grew wide. You really mean that? Im tired; dont make me say it again. Captain frowned. Only then did the team members relax, lift their spoons, and lay down under the shade. Wheres Black? As always, hes doing his weird dance. At Burimers answer, Captain nodded his head. He was incredible. His physique was great, but his mind was greater. Even the Captain himself had become mentally exhausted from the anxiety of continuous battles and traveling. Black Mamba was a unique character that didnt miss one session of meditation even when they were in this horrific situation. His judgment skills were also amazing. He didnt say much, but he was able to read everything on his mind like an x-ray. When will he finish? It will probably end after an hour. We dont have time. Call him over quickly. I didnt want to bother him if I could, but I had to confirm something with him. Is there a problem? Black Mamba stood bare-chested with his hand on his chin. Sweat followed the lines of his tanned muscles and dripped drop by drop. Hm! Captains eyes gazed at Black Mambas upper body. The silky smooth skin was roped with muscle. It was the perfect body with not an inch of fat. Captain stared at it as if in a trance. He looked like a sculpture from Renaissance times. Captain, stop looking at me like that. Im not a homo. Captains hands had been slowly reaching out, but he flinched at the words. He had wanted to touch the muscles. Uh hem! Black, you have to rest when we rest. I know you need your rest. They say that if you rest one day, you will know; if you rest two days, the surrounding people will know, and if you rest three days, the enemy will know. Captain mulled over Black Mambas words for a moment. If he really was different from normal humans, he wouldnt have said something like this. Whew, I think I know why you are so strong. Did you say it was Oh Keum Kon? Could I be trained in this also? If you can run with two tires attached to you and hang upside down for five hours, you can. If you can stare at the end of a needle for 72 hours without blinking, then you can. Captain was at a loss for words. He felt dizzy from the words then you can. Is that a joke? No. Its the truth. Hahaha! Ill cleanly give up on it. Black, how far can you pick up the enemys movements with that unique skill of yours? Black Mamba stared at Captain with suspicious eyes. Does this person really think of me as a radar? It didnt make him feel good about it. The sudden battle had caused him to reveal all his hidden skills. Ah, operating with a call name is only reserved for the top soldiers. Ive already let the rest of the team members know. I dont want to stand in front of a judge for revealing the secret. If the pension gets canceled, how will I survive my retirement? The quick-witted Captain hurriedly spouted nonsense. It changes depending on the surroundings. If there are no man-made noises, I can read up to 100m. I can sense a human presence up to 300m, and the movement of vehicles or bikes up to 8km. Hm, youre not human. Captain sighed. He was like a highly sensitive bio radar. With Black Mamba, the scale of any planned operation can be expanded to ten times normal capacity. Captain looked around at his team members. Good; well trust Black Mambas skills and go into cover for an ambush. I dont like stalkers. Lets refreshingly break them apart and move on comfortably. I agree with that plan also, Burimer agreed. Black, you have a mini music player you use, dont you? That, what do you call it, walkman. I do. Does it work now? It does. Good, sell that to me. Ill give you five thousand francs. I dont like IOUs. A box of Ciacarell. Cest bien. (That sounds good.) That night, when the sun went down, the well-rested mercenaries started to move busily. The only people knowing the details of Operation mirror were Captain, Burimer, and Black Mamba. The team members were setting Claymore mines in the area where the supplies would be dropped. Jang Shin and Ombuti assembled the grenade launcher and got into position. Sergeant Mike was confused about the situation the entire time he was preparing the land mines. Are they saying that its okay to destroy all the given supplies? The current battle tactic did not include the protection of the supplies. If a battle occurred, their supplies would be destroyed. Unless Captain had lost his mind, he wouldnt have planned such a tactic. Captain? The Captain, realizing Mikes confusion, smiled. Mike, gather the team members once the Claymore and land mines are in place. Once the team members gathered, Captain started his briefing. Our current strategy is the ant lions pit. This is the point where Chinook will drop off the supplies. They will be dropping off the supplies at a point 7 km south towards Amju in a place called Trident Rock. What are you talking about? Captain didnt answer Mikes question separately. After the beating from Black Mamba, his personality may have been reconstructed, but his impatient nature had not changed. We will dig a lion ants pit here and wait. Its a situation warranting sadness and anger, but we cannot trust the government headquarters. There is a high possibility that a mole has penetrated the government headquarters. I am planning to change the location of the supply drop. Finally, the team was able to definitively understand Captains objective. They understood why the operation was called an ant lions pit also. I am hoping Frolinat will not show up. I sincerely hope that my suspicions will just be an alarmist reaction. They will have intel agents in the surrounding areas. Ill split you up into groups. Captain stopped talking and looked around at his men. Mike will head to Ekiya with Belman and Miguel. You will collect the supplies at the newly set location. Burimer, I need you to gather the others and record something for me. Our situation is that we received the supplies. Do you understand? Burimer read Captains mind immediately. Yes, understood. Black Mamba, you know why I named this place the ant lions pit, dont you? Black Mamba looked out into the wide-open space and nodded his head. There are no obstacles. In one minute we should be able to clear 30 of them. It will be best to start at 600m. It will be troublesome if your lover gets too hot Black Mamba stroked his Dragonov gun. Captain handed his Dragonov to Black Mamba. Black, however good your skills are, your lover wont be able to last long. Take turns with both guns. You can aim the zero point at the punks heads. Sounds good! Both Captain, who was uttering horrid words, and Black Mamba, who accepted them blandly, were already lost in the inhuman state of war. It had been a long time since they had buried their human dignity in the sands of Sahel. Burimer gathered the team and started to record. They even cleverly added background noises of tools clashing against each other. Captain smiled as he nodded his head. This was why having an experienced sergeant was important. He didnt have to explain every little detail to him. Captain checked his watch. Twenty-one hundred; it was time to get ready for the helicopter landing. Captain called Mike over. Mike, 7km south of Amju there is a small oasis. There, you will see three large boulders called Trident Rock. In 2400 hours, Chinook will show up. Direct them there and collect the supplies. After collecting the supplies, you will return here. Captain, why do I have to go? Mike couldnt hide his discontent. For someone who liked blood as much as he did, this task was driving him crazy. There would soon be a battle, and all he was going to be doing was collecting supplies. It churned his insides. If there is no mole, then this will all pass quietly without a battle. Burimer has to be in charge of the grenade launcher. Do you expect Black Mamba to go pick up the supplies in place of you? Ah, never mind. Of course, I should be the one to go. Mike was offended, but he immediately put his tail between his legs. Just hearing Black Mambas name made his heart drop. The pain of his beating had been eternally engraved into his brain. Just thinking about it made his muscles spasm. Mike, collecting the supplies is more important than the battle. Its success will determine the survival of the team. Another motive is to misdirect the enemy. Your role is important. Belman, take Miguel and lure them here. Understood. Mike took 3 pickups and headed toward Amju. At twenty-three hundred hours, it was time for the helicopter to arrive at Kanem. Lattells team got ready to greet their visitors. Captain raised the satellite phone antennae. -Come in, Alpha. This is Bravo. -This is Alpha. You may speak Bravo. -Has the helicopter left? -It is set to arrive in 48 minutes. -The supply drop location has been changed. Do not go to the initial location. There is a Strella waiting there. Go 7 km south from the initial location towards Amju oasis to a place called Trident Rock. Coordinates are 021 423. The signal will be 3 flares. -Understood. Wait a moment. -Ive gotten into contact with the helicopter. Lets hope for the best. -Roger After finishing the transmission, Captain smiled, organized the antennae, then returned. There is no pilot crazy enough to come to a place where a missile was waiting for them. The mercenaries were all in their respective positions and waited. The desert night was silent. He blasted the sound as high as possible so that the noise of the walkman echoed through the desert. Burimer cleverly left some lanterns on at certain points. Would the enemy show up? There was nothing left to do but wait. The 3rd Frolinat army was 15 km south of Tanga. Clash! Thud! A loud noise was coming from the command center and the barracks. Not a single person loitered around the barracks. Ahmud could not control his anger and was currently hopping mad. The surprise counter-attack had failed. He had lost all his men and had practically been beaten over the head in punishment as he ran away. The prideful Grosser was extremely frustrated about this. Informing Habib of this was his immediate concern. Muhammad! Yes, your excellency. The aide who had been cowering in a corner shot up like a bullet and stood at attention. He was strictly trained. Blood was trickling down Muhammads forehead. It was due to getting hit by the cigarette tray that Ahmud threw. Status report. We have a total of 1,300 men, at the current number. A large decorative piece that had been on the desk went flying. It was a figure of a donkey that Ahmud prized. Muhammad quickly avoided it. Crash! The wine cabinet broke into pieces. Ahmuds eyes opened wide. You idiot, Im asking you how many men we can send out. If we leave out the government guards, we barely have 150 men. Ahmud raised his thick eyebrows. Ice shot out of his eyes. What? Why do we only have that many men? He asked this as if the aide had intentionally taken some men out behind his back. The 3rd Frolinat army Habib had 2,400 men. Excluding the 500 guards and 600 Musta independence fighters, 1,300 men were at Ahmuds command. There were 700 newly-trained soldiers and 600 child soldiers forced into service. Currently, there were 700 soldiers tracking the Makumbo army that was moving toward Kanem province. A hundred of them were trying to find Makumbo. Based on his calculation, the math did not work. Chapter 49 The idiot Musta lost our star brigade. They lost 57 men at Guradi. There are currently 303 men left at headquarters. Ten surveillance teams are out in the northwest and Cortaro. There are currently 203 men here. Huh! Upon hearing this report, Ahmud sighed heavily. Borkou and Kanem were too big. Having to split the troops here and there was causing them to have very few left as backups. He wanted to rip apart the frog punks, but without knowing their movements, it was hard to plan a tactic accordingly. He wasnt confident enough to go against them with just 150 men. All of them were snipers. He was battling against ten of them, but he was the one ending up with a nosebleed. With their immensely accurate shooting, he had even lost his aide. Ahmud stroked the left side of his face without realizing it. It was the area where the blood from his aides head had splattered. He got chills down his back. They had no information on how many of these skilled men they had. It made it difficult to command an attack. Muhammad, bring in all the guards. Your excellency, if we bring in all the guards that are surveying their movements, the boss will not be happy. Muhammad opposed him. You call them if I tell you to call them. I was chased like a dog by those frog punks. Ahmuds anger exploded. He threw the cigar he had in his mouth. This guy or anotherhe didnt like any of them. The cigar happened to land on the same spot as his cut forehead, but Muhammad didnt move from his stance. Ahmud was a hotheaded superior. There were aides that got killed for talking back to him. Yes, sir. Muhammad hurriedly ran out of the barracks. He heard him kicking the desk from behind him. Damn, why is he taking out his anger at me after getting stomped on by the frogs? What the hell did I do? Muhammad muttered as he readied to call in the troops. Ahmud couldnt calm his anger and smoked cigarette after cigarette. How many of them are there? Why are they not searching for Makumbo and instead loitering around Bodele? He racked his brain about it, but all it did was make his headache worse. From his assumptions, he predicted that the frog special forces had at least 30 men and at most 100. If he called in all the surveillance teams, he could gather 300 men. Only then could he be sure to have the advantage in numbers. Faizs surveillance team had 100 men with over 5 years of experience. Their main task was to survey other armies. Habibs surveillance team would track movements of any army they were in leagues with. The 11 members of Frolinat only kept them as an alliance because of necessity. They belonged to a different group and class entirely. Like Havrena Makumbo, they could never be sure when they would get betrayed by them. That was the extent of Frolinats alliance with them. If he was to remove the Faiz surveillance army, then as his aide had said, he would get sorely reprimanded by Habib. If I can catch those punks, I would sell my soul. Ahmud clenched his teeth. The scratch to his pride made even his fear of the boss disappear. He wouldnt be able to sleep until he could chop them to pieces and throw them into the desert. When he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the image of his ripped apart men and bullet holes in their heads. When about ten cigarette butts were in the cigarette tray, the messenger arrived. What? Oh ho! It was a messenger that the boss, Commissioner Habib, had sent. Upon receiving the message, Ahmud was snapped back to his senses. There were two very important pieces of information inside it. It said that the punks were heading toward Ekiya oasis and that they were awaiting a supply replenishment. It would be at 2400 hours, 10 km northwest of Tanga. He didnt know how the boss was gathering information about the French army, and he didnt want to know. They say that curiosity killed the cat. If the boss was not going to tell, then it was better to pretend not to know. His task was to retrieve the supplies. Of course, he first had to obliterate those meddlesome punks. If he wasnt able to eat what the boss was spoon-feeding him, then he deserved to be purged. From inside Ahmuds head, a map unfolded. Ten km north of Tanga are 5 oasis villages in the area of Toko Doum. It was only 25 km away from the location of their brigade in Koro Mojanga. Ahmud was in a good mood. He was pumped up with adrenaline. He wasnt sure why the special forces which were supposed to be chasing Makumbo were deep in Bodele. The Bodele badlands were his front yard. One mistake was enough. Your excellency! Without even knocking, the aide burst in suddenly. A report has come in from our intel team. Three vehicles are moving toward the Amju region. Ahmud jumped up in surprise. What? Toward Amju? That is correct. They arent all moving, are they? That correct. A portion of them were left behind. Ha hahaha! Is that so. Ahmud smiled widely. Their intel was never wrong. The punks had arranged a supply drop with a few of their men, and the rest of them had started to move onwards. The pickups that were heading toward Amju were the ones to make contact with their headquarters. Get ready to go to Toko Doum. What should we do with the surveillance team we called back? Are their brains mere accessories? Send Faiz the message. Tell them to not come to headquarters but instead chase the punks heading to Amju. Their destination is the base camp for the special forces, Ahmud yelled out abruptly. Because his previous aides head had been blown off in Guradi, he had to deal with this idiot. He didnt know how to move upon making his own judgment. The surveillance team that Faiz commanded was the best of the best. They will rid the special force base camp with Faizs troops. After stealing the supplies, he was planning to attack them from the rear. There was no need to oppose Habibs commands, so it was killing two birds with one stone. There was an hour left before they arrived to the location. All available vehicles were sourced to them from headquarters. Cars and bikes, even camels. All 147 Frolinat soldiers passed through the barricade and popped out. The Ahmud troops ran as fast as they could through the darkness. Commander, we see a light. The aide that was surveying the area reported to Ahmud. Ahmud was also able to see a streak of light through the darkness. If there were no obstacles, he was able to see 10km out in the dark. The stupid white pigs! he exclaimed in delight. They were unaware how far sounds and light traveled through the desolate desert nights. It made them easy targets for their guns. He scoffed at how pathetic the frogs were for not being even remotely careful. Ahmud, however, had forgotten his defeat in the early evening against ten men previously. Prideful men tend to only see what they want to see, hear what they want to hear, and remember what they want to remember. Ahmud did not surpass this generalization. Keep going forward. The location of the mirror operation was 4km from Toko Doum in a place with no obstacles. The mercenaries were undercover, 300m to the right. The snipers were waiting with bated breath in the best possible location to use their shooting skills. Black Mamba had his eyes closed in the sudden darkness he created. It was time to become one with nature. 100 meters, 200 meters, 300 metersas if a rock had been thrown in a peaceful lake, the ripples kept growing. He had told Captain that his limit was 100m, but in actuality, it was 300 meters. He could see 100m with his eyes, but he could sense movement up to 500m. All living things give off orthodox wavelengths. Black Mamba used something similar to active echolocation used by submarines. By sensing the change in energy from the living things, he was able to figure out its shape and movement. -Captain, from 4km straight ahead, the enemy is approaching. -What? 4km ahead? Captain looked out through his night-vision goggles. There was nothing but ink-like darkness in front of him. Black Mambas senses had never been wrong before. If Black Mamba says they are there, then they must be. Damn, as expected, the pipe is leaking profusely. Our mirror tactic worked perfectly. A sigh naturally escaped him. -Can you tell me the direction and number? -It is the 2 oclock direction, I can hear the sound of the engines and camels. The number is difficult to decipher. Hm! Dirty punks. I will make sure to kill you. Captain clenched his teeth. Its the 5th row. The contents of their communication were handed straight into the enemys hands. He had truly hoped that his worry had been an over-exaggeration, but the reality was bleak. It would be hard to catch the mole as they had to suspect the communication officer all the way to the commanding officer. Captain did not suspect DGSEs back door operation. He turned on his headset. -Everyone get ready to attack -Yes sir -Morris, have you finished setting up the land mines? -Yes sir, 10 sets of Claymore set and ready. The mines are lined up three meters apart with a total of 60 sets placed into position. They dug up all the Claymores they had in their supply, but it was still not enough. Claymores are orientated mines. Because they are placed in different orientations, if 30% are able to be exploded, it is assumed to be a success. -The enemy is heading our way from 4km away. Ready the grenade launcher and machine guns. They had resisted using explosives at Uldi Harmarl, but their tail had already been caught now. There was no reason to reserve their firepower. Six mercenaries waited for the enemy with bated breath. The Ahmud army was approaching with great speed. Within less than an hour, they had traveled 20 km. This speed was only possible because of their familiarity with the land. At Toko Doum, Muhammad halted the leading troops. Commander, we hear noises. Its the frogs. Ahmud jumped off the truck and put his ear to the ground. Im sure of it. They are 4km straight ahead. Ahmud had rolled around the desert for 20 years. Even without night vision goggles, he could see a point of light and figure out the distance through small sounds. Everyone off. We have further news. Ahamud carefully reaccessed the situation. He was suddenly reminded of his recent defeat. The French special forces were limited in size, but they showed phenomenal battle skills. His army only had individual rifles, firearms, and grenades. They had RPG and mine throwers, but they didnt have a lot in supply. He sorely missed the Soviet grenade launcher he had lost to them previously. Luckily, their main forces were out toward Ekiya oasis. Their limited supplies could be overcome by their sheer number of men. Plus, it was night. The snipers were limited by darkness. Using the cover of darkness, they could get as close as possible, then obliterate them once and for all. With five troops, Frolinats 3rd brigade stealthily approached the barracks like a rattlesnake. Are they crazy? Captain gasped in exasperation. Within the magnified sight through the night vision goggles, the green silhouettes seemed to go on forever into the distance. His worst fear had become a reality. The oncoming number of guerrilla troops surpassed that of a company unit. Captain, who had assumed that at most it would be a platoon, gasped in exclamation. With exact information at both of their disposals, Ahmud and Captain had both misjudged the situation. Ahmud predicted that Frances special forces were at Ekiya. He was sure that they would not have enough men to overpower them, especially in a night battle. Captain had assumed that the rebel forces would send their main troops to Ekiya, and a portion would come to steal the supplies. Both their mistaken assumptions had been the cause for a rain of blood to shower upon Toko Doum. The problem was the sea of green that filled the entire lens of his night-vision goggles. Seeing the huge numbers of the enemy soldiers put Captain in a grim position. With Mark dead, Chartres injured, and Belman, Miguel, and Mike in Ekiya as a diversion, only half of the 11 was available to battle. The only members available for battle were Burimer and Black Mamba as snipers, Morris with explosives, Jang Shin with heavy weapons, and Emil with the machine gun. There as only five of them. Not having Miguels rifle with them was detrimental. They will not be able to coordinate taking turns shooting. With him included, the six of them would have to go against the black sea of enemies charging toward them. The only thing he could put trust in was Black Mamba and the tightly planted land mines. It was too late to back out. If they started to chase them, their location would be compromised, and they were at high risk to lose everything. Are they telling us that they are okay with exposing their 5th line? He wanted to smash his own head in. He had overthought the situation and put his team in a dangerous position. Truthfully, Captains sly tactics were not bad. The problem was Habibs pride and Ahmuds vengeance. The desert men were more concerned about enacting their revenge than the consequences of their actions. Should we risk being followed and quietly retreat? If we lead them to the minefield and use all our firepower, wouldnt we able to take them on? We have Black Mamba on our side. Chapter 50 Captain racked his brain with all his might, but he could not easily come to a decision. Captain turned on his headset. The company scale of the enemy is larger than expected. Each of you, tell me what you think. This is Burimer. I dont want to continue on with a stalker. This is Morris. I will do as Black wishes. This is Emil. I will do as Black wishes. This is Jang Shin. I will do as Black wishes. Huh, Black seems to be the top gun. Black, what would you like to do? This is Black Mamba. No need to worry. Just make sure to stop them from coming head-on. I can sweep them in 10 minutes. Huh, just hearing you say that puts me at ease. Youre like a teenager who wants to fight with everyone. Alright, I dont like stalkers either. Black Mamba will start the attack. Black, theres not much choice. Make your own judgment call and sweep them. Yes sir Morris, after you explode the Claymores, grab your rifle. Yes, sir. Jang Shin, get help from Ombuti. If we run short on shells, grab the recoilless rifles. Yes, sir. Ombuti, help Jang Shin. Got it. Burimer, grab the ASG. Yes, sir. Black Mamba will be in charge of the attack. Emil and I will take turns with the machine guns. Burimer, do you have the M60 bullets? -Yes, sir. Captain appointed each of the team members with their respective tasks. A leader must keep in mind the worst-case scenario. They lacked so much manpower that he had to request Jang Shin, who was in charge of the back attack with the grenade launcher, to also help Ombuti with the ammunition. He gave up their specialties without hesitation. A sniper tactic was only good for specified targets. In a situation with large numbers attacking, it would be the worst possible way to stop the enemy. Plus, with their view compromised at night, their accuracy would fall drastically. The troops task was to block the oncoming charge attack. Sniping was specifically handed to Black Mamba. Frolinat might think that the darkness gives them an advantage, but they are sorely mistaken. The darkness is a playground in which Black Mamba can run freely and efficiently. Black Mamba has the ability to send tens of the opposing troops straight to Allah with his impeccable sniping skills. They had been extremely lucky to have collected the high-speed automatic grenade launcher. After catching the enemy by surprise with the Claymore and land mines, they could rip the rest of them apart with this particular weapon. Black Mamba was a versatile sniper whose skill didnt change whether it was in night or day. With Jang Shins grenade launcher and the power of the ASG17, they would be able to stop the oncoming enemy. Captain was confident. Black Mamba continued to stare at the green dot that seemed to extend eternally. The 4X magnifying scope attached to the Dragonov made it hard to figure out the exact distance. The enemy had already come with 1000m. He was waiting for them to reach 600m for his attack timing. He whiffed the smell of sweat. He could also hear a low urgent voice prodding them on. They had come to the time where if they didnt want to die; they would have to kill. The first target they needed to get was the one in charge of the flares. A grenade flare was as bright as ten thousand candles. All his comrades had on night vision goggles. Exposed to such a magnified light, their corneas could get burned off. The second target was the heavy weaponry; the third was the commander. The ones holding their own weapons could be swept up when they reached the 300m mark. 300m was a good enough distance to ignore the AK accuracy rule. The fully armed armys approaching speed was about 5~7m per second; if he started shooting at the 600m mark, he could clear 60~70 of them. When they reached within 300m, he could shoot 1~2 per second. Within 2 minutes, he could sweep 100 men. His comrades would just have to hold them back for 3 minutes. Black Mamba froze as he ran the battle simulation in his head. He was reminded of the time he had herded and slaughtered cattle in his youth, but he didnt feel any further guilt. Is it alright for me to do this? It hadnt been that long since he had put down his moktak and picked up a gun, but how could he already have become this way! He felt unfamiliar with this cold person who could calculate how many people he could kill at one time. When had be become so desensitized to murder? Four years ago, when he had been waving an ax, had he already become accustomed to blood? He suddenly felt unfamiliar with his identity. In a few minutes, many more people would again die at his hands. What had he done in the past to have this heavy karma of being the butcher of people? The memory of his teacher walking carefully so that he wouldnt kill an ant flashed through his brain. Look up at the sky. It is filled with clouds. The faint stars blinked in the sandy winds. His mother had told him that when a pure soul died, it went to heaven and became a star. What would happen to those he killed? The corpses filled the stomachs of animals; the discarded bones will wander the rough wilderness then disappear into dust. His teacher had said these words to him: Karma depends on the ability to resist temptation. Did you think I didnt say anything because I didnt know that you killed a warthog and ate it? It is because you are unable to resist temptation. I believe that even an ants life has purpose, and so I take care to avoid its death. Everything depends on how one perceives it. Dont pretend to be a seasoned monk when you cant even a proper apprentice. Teacher, I am a monster. I will take my own path, he lowered his voice and mumbled. Yes. He was a battling mercenary. He was a soldier that crushed the skulls of his enemies and poked holes in their chests. He just had to make sure he had no conscience. Black Mamba rid himself of the shreds of decency left inside him. As if the sandy winds themselves were holding their breath, the first quarter moon of Tocotum floated up in the sky. Black Mamba removed the night vision goggles and shoved them in his backpack. The green world had turned to black and white. His partner Emil grabbed the machine gun, and Ombuti helped Jang Shin with the attack on the rear. He prepared 20 magazines with 10 bullets in each. He left 5 magazines in his ammunition bag and laid out 5 more in front of him. He only wished that he would not have to get blood on his kukri this time. The advance team? He is a acting very cautious. Ahmud was being extra careful this time. He put the main army on standby and sent ten soldiers as an advance team first. Black Mama turned on his headset. -Its the advance team. Let them pass. We will start when the main army starts to move. -Got it. Black, get rid of them. When the advance team came within 300 meters, the main army started to move. The dark shapes were hunched over close to the ground as they approached. Through the pale white moonlight, their zigzagging movement could be easily seen. -Were going to start. Black Mamba lifted the Pamus with the silencer attached. For short-range, the quiet and short pistol Pamus was the most effective. The advance team reached the 200m mark. Whoosh! As a whoosh of sandy wind passed, the Pamus sparked. Puck puck puck! Like a handful of sand whizzing through the air, it echoed consecutively without any pauses. It was Black Mambas characteristic triple shot. It was a sniping skill that could only be done with the ability to stop recoil as well as maintaining a steady aim. With three shots, three soldiers heads exploded. Each of the bullets penetrated through the brain stem behind their ears. The brain stem is the nerve that connects the brain to the spinal nervous system. It was located behind the ear and slightly protruded out. The brain stem controls breathing, pulse, and circulation, and that determined the continuation of life. The destruction of the brain stem led to immediate death. Unable to feel a second of pain, it determined their fate of going to hell or heaven in an instant. Black Mamba had studied the human anatomy for three years in high school. The brain stem area was small, but it was a sure-fire way to end a persons life. Sending them to their death without pain was the one and only way he could show them mercy. The guerrilla troops quickly lowered their bodies to the ground. It was already too late. Within 200 meters, it was as if they were standing right in front of him for Black Mamba. The Frolinat soldiers who had their brain stems destroyed fell to the ground without even letting out a scream. Within 5 seconds, the ten advance team members had been silenced. Ahmud did not realize the end of his advance team. The main army followed behind the 10 advance team members. The numbers they had at their disposal was highly threatening. Especially at night, their advance would be hard to block even with bombardment. During the Korean War, the Chinese army had used this tactic. In the Vietnam War, the Vietcong had also used this tactic. The American army realizing the fear such a tactic instilled had even placed night advancement in their tactic manuals. Captain concentrated hard with his eyes glued onto the night vision lens. Under the blue moonlight, ten soldiers fell to the floor like petals on a canvas. Behind them, a wave of dots started coming toward them. Captains breath caught in his throat. When Ahmuds troops reached within 600m of their location, Black Mambas Dragonov showed his true potential. Puck puck puck-its characteristic 3 bullets shot out. The leading guerrilla troops fell one by one. Ahh! Once the shooting had started, the rebel troops gave up on their prayers and instead yelled out their characteristic chants as they charged. Morris did not hesitate to push the detonator as the enemy started to infiltrate towards them. Die, you miserable punks. The strong surge of voltage followed the fuse and exploded the C4. Kukukoong! Other than the 7 sets of Claymore that were placed in a different location, the 3 sets all exploded at once. The explosion shook the desert. The thousands of steel bearings tore through the frail bodies of the men. Tens of soldiers fell to the ground. Oh yeah! Morris threw down his detonator and picked up the Dragonov. The seven sets of Claymore, which were placed in a completely different direction, were now useless. It was difficult to shoot at night, but all he had to do was focus on backing up Black Mamba. Ohh, Allah Allah! The rebellion troops had hesitated for a moment, then proceeded back to charging forward. Captain, who was directing the war suddenly became a lot busier. -Jang Shin set all targets to the 320 424 direction. Boom! -Burimer 11 oclock 520m. Toong! Toong! Toong! The grenade launcher and Burimers ASG17 attack rained steel over the heads of the rebel army. Jang Shin continuously shot grenades without rest, but the attack was not very effective. -Burimer good. 12 oclock 530 Toong! Toong! Toong! ASG17 had a range of 1700 meters and could deliver 50 shots per minute. It was a newly invented Soviet automatic rifle. A 30mm grenade was only half as powerful as the regular grenade. Steel rain shot over the rebel armys head. Every time a grenade exploded, 1~2 enemy soldiers fell. The disrupted sands mixed with the corpses and created the vision of hell itself. -Captain, this is awesome. Burimer was ecstatic. -Burimer, in the time it takes you to talk, get rid of those punks. Dont think about capturing them, just get rid of them. -Yes, sir. After hearing Captains nagging, Burimer focused his attack solely on the enemys front line. As the amount of charging troops diminished, Black Mambas shooting caused even more of Ahmuds troops to fall faster. Dammit! Ahmud, observing the war scene, couldnt help but sigh. The grenades those punks were throwing at them were their weapons which they had stolen. It was like a dog biting its owner. He was furious. That damn sniping team! The damage was big from the grenades, but there were even more men getting shot down by the shooting team. It was horrifically accurate sniping. He wouldnt even have dreamed that this was the work of one person. Watching his men fall like dominoes made his head spin. He had not been able to predict that they would have a hidden sniper team waiting while they chased their decoy. He was sorely taken off guard. Ohh, Allah Allah! Despite the onslaught of grenades and machine-gun bullets, the 3rd brigade troops charged on with fervor. Mine thrower, RPG! Ahmud yelled. Coming back to his senses, the Ahmud troop started to throw RPG and mines. Stormtroopers, attack after finding cover! Ahmuds scream echoed. His men were losing their minds. Once his stormtroopers were deployed, they seemed to have forgotten how to take cover after three seconds. He was becoming furious at their stupidly blatant way of charging forward. Boom! Crash! They were launching at the targets that were lit up by flares. When RPGs are attached to scopes, their range is within 300m. If you shoot without aiming, it can shoot past 600m. They were unable to deliver a critical shot, but all 3 of the shots had greatly endangered their RPG shooters. Emil and Captain, who had grabbed the machine gun, did not have time to lift their heads. Jang Shins eyes were filled with regret as he stared at the burnt box. The two and a half boxes of the bombs with 10 shots they had left were gone in one minute. Jang Shin grabbed the recoilless rifle as a substitute. Ombuti, who was assisting Jang Shin, was moving quickly. When they ran out of ammunition, he quickly crawled into the bunker where Black Mamba was. Black Mamba emptied a 20 bullet magazine in 30 seconds. The 10 magazines were quickly used up. Ombuti was busy filling the ammunition into the magazines nonstop. When Black Mamba emptied it, he quickly received it from him and gave him the restocked Dragonov. Ombuti did a fabulous job as Black Mambas assistant. With Ombutis assistance, Black Mambas shooting became even faster. Not a single soldier from Frolinat was able to come within 300 meters. Ack! Damnit Ahmud couldnt control his anger and screamed. All of the fallen soldiers on the ground were his men. Allah had ignored his prayer for his men to use the darkness to steal the supplies and get rid of the frog enemies. Ahmud had no choice but to battle on desperately. The mercenaries were hidden and undercover while Ahmuds troops were out in the open. The mercenaries had night vision goggles on while his men only had their regular eyesight. Their experience and familiarity with the setting were not great enough to offset the difference in the preparation of equipment. The wild, cat-like Black Mamba was also the worst luck for Ahmud. Black Mamba changed his target to the grenade launcher and the RPG shooter. Bang bang bang! Chapter 51 The guerrilla troops RPG group attacking from the back all had their heads exploded. Before the blood could even splatter, the guerrilla troops moving the warheads fell to the ground. There were consecutive shots without delay. Afterward, the mortar shooter and his assistant got shot in the heart and fell away as if jumping in surprise. The soldier in charge of ammunition flattened himself to the ground, but the merciless bullet shattered his spine. Puck puck! The bullets continued to hit the hidden troops in the dirt. Wakil, be careful. Beneath the bunker, Ombuti, who was filling the magazine, yelled. Dont worry. Its a grenade. To reassure Ombuti, he had said it was a grenade, but it was actually an effector. It meant that the enemy noticed that they needed to use explosives. The gas from the effector was similar to carbon monoxide, and when it came into contact with oxygen, it would be triggered to explode. The faster the diffusion of gas, the faster its expansion. It would make it that much brighter and longer-lasting. The speed of the Dragonov released gases for a long time. It was something of a downfall of the weapon. Black Mamba wasnt worried about the effector. AKs accuracy decreases significantly as the range surpasses 150m. From 300 meters away, you would practically need Allahs help to get an exact shot. If Black Mamba was to be effected by the gases emitted from the bullets, the hyenas would have laughed. In war, you could not avoid the bloodshed from a grenade. Getting hit from a bullet you cannot see from far away may not feel fair, but that was just ones luck. Black Mamba did not once worry about the dangers of a counter-attack and continued to take down all his aimed targets. Thats why we call him Azrael! Ombuti thought. He was not only the best skilled but also the one with the least fear. To Ombuti, it looked like the bullets themselves were veering away from Black Mamba. Fweet! It was the sound of the shot shooting out of the mortar and falling back down towards them. Black Mamba, who had lifted his head, flinched. Under the first quarter moon, he saw a black dot. Ombuti, get down! He pressed down on the back of Ombutis head and shoved him into the bunker. Boom! The grenade flew at them and slammed into the ground. The two of them were swept back from the explosion as dirt spilled into their bunker. Compared to that of Jang Shins, the skill was lacking, but it still presented them with grave danger. Wakil, get that one first! Ombuti, who was covered in dirt, yelled. Haha, if we get hit, we have to obviously hit them back. Black Mamba immediately found his target. He didnt even have to calculate the distance and direction. It was enough knowing the direction of where the attack came from. Black Mambas night vision was as good as that of an owl. Outside 850m, he saw the shooter and loader. Puck! Puck! Once someone came into Black Mambas view, they were marked for death. Both the grenade loader and the target shooters head shattered at the same time. Black Mamba, who had destroyed both the mine throwers, started to attack the RPGs next. RPGs are at short range. The surrounding RPGs around him were cleared out almost instantly. Anyone who met Black Mamba as an enemy would be unable to avoid their bad luck even if they were God. When their support line was cleared out, they changed tactics to attacking with the machine gun. Puck! The Degtyaryov shooters head exploded. Once the Sahara winds started to blow, the clouds cleared from the sky. The first quarter moon that escaped its cover peaked out its head. It was now Black Mambas world. Captain, who was observing the battle, clenched his fists. The godlike snipers skills were unparalleled. Two mine throwers, five RPGs, and six machine guns were silenced in three minutes. He could double-tap with a sniper rifle and even triple tap. He too was a sniper. Black Mambas sniping skills were unexplainable. A huge hole was made in Ahmuds attack line. Lattell team suddenly came to their senses and started to spark a fire from their heavy weaponry and machine guns. Ya iliah hakan hada! (What, how in the world!) The night vision goggles dropped from Ahmuds hands. His men had been ones who could charge through bullets. His men who had hesitated due to the barrage fell like dominoes. They looked as if they were panicum plants being swept away from the strong Sahara winds. Ack, those pigs! It was a replay of the previous day. He had never imagined that they would have been ready and waiting for him. The surprise attack was not done by his side but by the frogs. He had been tricked by the sneaky frogs. He bit his lip so hard it was bleeding but he didnt realize it. As before, he was decimated by the sniper. With his support gone, their charge faltered. He couldnt even guess at how many snipers there were. Kill all the cowards! Ahmud screamed. They were within 300m of the enemy. Either way, the enemy had small numbers. If they can just pass the enemy lines, he still had a chance at victory. Frolinats barrier troops were known for their cruelty. They said that the armies with less training and backward ideals have the cruelest barrier troops. The barrier troops coming from the back were said to slit the throats of the troops in front that would turn to run away. Any soldiers who hesitated would get a knife in their back. Wah, Allah, Allah! Ahmuds army charged from all around them. Boom! Boom! Boom! It was the M74 mines that Morris planted. Every time it exploded, the charging guerrilla troops flew into the air off the ground. Full steam ahead! For the glory of Allah, charge! The barrier troops yelled as they swung their Scimitar. Ahmuds thinking that attack by numbers was unbeatable was correct. However, the automatic machine gun and the godlike sniper were not things he had taken into consideration. Black Mamba was in a trance. Choosing a target, pulling the trigger, and changing magazines were done almost mechanically. Ombuti was busy handing him the reloaded Dragonov. Black Mambas eyes were unfazed by the men falling to the ground, spouting blood. He forgot the fact that his targets were people and he even forgot the fact that he was pulling the trigger. Black Mamba had chosen the Dragonov because of its ability for continuous shots and durability. The Dragonov in Black Mambas hand was able to complete its usage in ten minutes. PSG-1, Galil, and M40 rifles are designed with a bolt action feature. The bolt action design made it have increased accuracy but its durability was weak. It did not match Black Mambas style of shooting which used a rifle like a machine gun. After sweeping the support line, he changed the Dragonov five times within the first five minutes. Instantly, the charging soldiers dwindled one by one. Three hundred meters was the stop line, as well as the charge line. There were only 20 of them who were able to bypass the mines and the sniping. Even they were wiped out in an instant. Their screams and gunshots quickly decreased. After sweeping the charging team, Black Mamba aimed at the barrier team behind them. Kuk, kuk! The barrier team coming from the back started to collapse one by one. Puck! Ack! The blood splattered onto the forehead of the aide Muhammed, and a scream came out of Ahmuds mouth. He could see his aide flailing his two arms as he fell in slow motion. It was surreal. One shot, one killthere was no point in hiding for cover. In the darkness, the screams continued. The fear of war was contagious. Even the counterattack warriors screamed and put their heads to the ground. When a person lays down on the ground, the surface area is estimated to be 350 centimeters. It may seem like a wide area, but it is actually only 17 centimeters per side. If they are hidden in some parts, the area becomes even smaller. It is nearly impossible to hit a 170mm target in the dark at 300 meters away. Ahmud got goosebumps. In the 30 years he had experienced war, never had he felt his life threatened as seriously as it did now. Fear that a bullet will come shooting through his head at any moment crept up on him. The way he had survived for this long was his quick judgment of the situation. He turned his back without further hesitation. Retreat! Ahmud, who was riding a bike to run away, had about ten men following behind him. Even as they retreated, the attacking bullets continued to fly at them. Ack! Ah! The screams of his men continued behind him. How could this be! Ahmud realized it too late. He couldnt believe it, but he realized that there was only one sniper. Ahmud had spent his whole life smelling the gunpowder of war. He was a merciless sniper who used a sniper rifle like a machine gun to take down his men in the split instants between their attacks. Ahmud felt chills down his back instead of anger. He suddenly remembered laughing after hearing the report about him. He was known as the greatest survivor, he had killed Musta and destroyed BTR, and he can hit a coin from 1km away. That was what had been reported to him. His heart cold, Ahmud squeezed his fist over the grip. The sounds of gunshots soon stopped. Only the sound of Black Mambas Dragonov continued to echo. Even that started to grow silent. Black Mambas gunfire ended a mere 15 minutes after the battle had started. It was the result of Black Mambas sniping against Ahmuds excessive charge attack. Ahmud observed the situation after retreating 4km away. Ahh, how could something so pig-like happen! There were no soldiers left to check on. He had brought along 147 and had a mere six left. It was a horrific result. Ahmud felt immense fear. He was a survivor. He didnt look back and stepped on the bikes accelerator. The sandy plains that had echoed with the sound of gunshots were now filled with silence. Black Mamba speedily rode through the green fields to the wasteland. Five or six of them had run away. The ants that crawled back to their anthill will come back out with an army. He was determined to obliterate the anthill. He bared the cruel teeth of Paranthropus. What a perfect situation! Black Mamba exclaimed upon finding the intact bike. He couldnt be more thankful. There were several abandoned vehicles and bikes around him. They were the ones that Frolinats 3rd brigade had rode in. Riding the bike, Black Mamba returned back to collect the box that contained 200 of the 7.62mm grenades. In the grenade box, there were 20 grenades, 2 flash grenades, and 2 smoke grenades. Black Mamba turned on his headset and set his signal to align with Emils. -Emil, Im tracking them down. Report it to Captain. Emil, who was cooling down his pistol, was appalled. -Are you insane? Get back here! Emil yelled through the headset. -Theres no reason for us to go around with a tail on us. I will return after destroying their headquarters. -Inconsiderate jerk, if you were going to leave, you should have reported yourself. Do you want to see your partner get beaten to a pulp by Captain? -The captain never kills his men. The communication abruptly disconnected. -Look, Black, Black, you evil punk, are you trying to kill your partner. Youre the worst person ever, you slug. Emil complained out loud but the turned off radio stayed silent. Youre the worst Angry, Emil threw the minimee to the ground. He was going to get beaten to death by Captain. With Marks death, all the team members had been put on high alert. To the point where Captain told them to go die with them if their partner gets hit. Truthfully, he was more worried about the safety of his partner than the wrath of Captain. Black Mamba revved the throttle roughly. The bikes front wheel lifted as it hit the ground running. The speeding bike fell hard into the ground and caused pain to his buttocks. Its power was good, but its suspension was horrible. Its durability was good but was designed without considering the comfort of the rider. It was typical of Soviet-made military equipment. Tracking them was as easy as flipping over ones hand. All he had to do was follow the smell of weapon residue and sweat. He casually followed the sent that the rebel forces had left behind. Ahmud couldnt have imagined that the angel of death was following his tail. Captain was in an ecstatic mood. They had gained the perfect victory over a large guerrilla force without a single injured soldier on their part. It was because everything, terrain, environment, firepower, equipment, and skill had been all in their favor. Today, he had commanded the best attack tactic of his life. Of course, it was thanks to having Black Mamba on his side. As expected, Black Mambas sniping was menacingly powerful in battle. Even in a situation against heavy weaponry and machine guns, he had swept the guerrilla troops as if he was cleaning house with a broom. It was the greatest moment of his life as a commander. This sort of perfect battle gave him a greater orgasm than that felt during sex. Chapter 52 - Episode 4: The Missing Mole If all battles were like the one today, they would want nothing more. They even forgot about the mole that had brought them into such a situation. What? Captains good mood suddenly shifted. Emils face turned to stone as he continued reporting to him. Black is chasing down the survivors? Hes going to erase the Frolinat headquarters? By himself? Yes sir! The continuous questions caused Emil to be on high alert. Cest quasi bordel! (What is this!) Captains face turned yellow. He must be insane to chase down the retreated rebel forces like that. Bodele was the enemys home ground. Even he didnt know the breakdown of the numbers the 3rd brigade had. If Black Mambas identity got revealed, their operation will not only fail, but they couldnt guarantee the safety of their team anymore. The key to them returning home alive was exclusively in the hands of Black Mamba. He wanted to beat the living daylights out of him, but he couldnt do anything about someone that was no longer in front of him. He was doubtful if he could even beat him upthe faultless Emil got reprimanded for no reason instead. Why werent you able to take better care of your partner, huh? Even if it is Black, why does he think he can do this by himself? Huh! Captains voice rose at Emil as if he was Black Mamba. I apologize. Black is not someone who will listen if we try to stop him~ Cest mobe, shut up. You should follow Black and die with him. Angrily, Captain kicked Emil in the shin. Damn, I knew this would happen! Who can stop him? Make me hear that Im useless, damn punk, Emil thought. Emil resented his partner as he felt the pain ringing in his bones. Lattell team got tossed into chaos. They couldnt even track him. There was nothing to ride, and it was dangerous to move around in the dark without Black Mamba. If they were caught in the enemys radar, they would be forced to crawl into their own coffins. The anxious men were unable to register the many bikes that the guerrilla troops had left behind. Whats up with everyone? Is the place on fire? Ombuti asked himself as he leaned, relaxed, under the shade of a boulder. Ombuti, lead the way. I at least think should follow after him, Emil said anxiously, but Ombuti didnt pay him any attention. Ha, he is a warrior of God. I dont understand the reason you are all worried. If you follow Black, you will just get in the way. Ack! If Black doesnt return, we will shoot you dead too. Go ahead! Emil yelled angrily, but Ombuti didnt budge. Emil kept nagging at him, but Ombuti closed his eyes. He was tired of having to defend Wakils actions. No, it was because he was unable to calm his heart from his surprise over Wakils immense skills. He had no time to listen to the whining of a novice. Ombuti closed his eyes and replayed the battle in his mind. The battle of Toko Doams success was due to the perfect coordination between the heavy weaponry and the snipers. They had carried the majority of the battle within their favor with Wakil and the other six mercenaries and destroyed 140 of the rebel troops. These men were professionals in turning a desperate battle into an artful success. The battles that he himself had fought against Frolinat in the past were mere child play. If these men had not been present, this team would have been mowed down like reeds. Wakils shooting was scary as expected. The Frolinat warriors were swept away as if swallowed by a large wave. Although they were the enemy, he felt sorry for them. Even though he saw it with his own eyes, he still could not believe it. A human shooting at night without night vision goggles? A normal human is unable to resist blinking an eye when a bullet hits or an explosion sends shrapnel into the air. This was only possible for the immortal warrior, Azrael. Ombuti was certain. Wakil was an immortal warrior. He was the manifestation of Azrael, the purveyor of death. He was proud to be part of the a battle fought next to Wakil. Azrael was known as the angel of death. He had seven thousand legs and four thousand pairs of wings and was the face of fear. He held a list of those who would live, and once a name was written off that list, the owner of that name would die. Whoever is targeted by Wakil will surely die. Ombuti did not doubt for one second that the immortal warrior, Black Mamba, would succeed in his task. Sergeant Mike headed toward Amju at 2300 hours. It was an hour before the battle was to start. Aware of the guards, he directed the three pickup trucks to go in different directions. After circling around in the relative direction of Ekiya oasis, they arrived at Trident Rock at 2400 hours. As a result, the guards that were tailing them was currently searching for their presence in Ekiya. Trident Rock had three boulders that looked like a trident spear. It was easy to find. Mike parked the pickup under the shadows of the boulders and waited for the helicopter. Dudududu Ten minutes had passed, and Chinooks loud motors could be heard. Mike placed about ten chemical flares to mark the landing location. Belman used a high-resolution lantern to signal them. The delivery ended swiftly. The supplies were packaged compactly. Their correspondence ended as Chinook left with guidance from the rear lamps and the pickup trucks started to head back. They broke quite a sweat trying to load the large amount of equipment and rations quickly onto the vehicles. The Chinook left immediately after dispensing the goods. Before Mike was able to organize all the supplies, they saw a flash and the sound of an explosion. Damn, theyve started. Lets go. As Mike hurriedly tried to start the pickup, Belman stopped him. Are you planning to ignore the Captains command? Damn, I want to at least watch. Our task is to collect the supplies. Captain and Black Mamba will take care of the battle. You want to just watch as our comrades battle for their life? Maybe its time for this guy to die? Belmans expression was strange. Troublemaker Mike was worried about their comrades? It was something that would make a camel laugh. He wasnt sure if this was how he really felt or whether it was just an excuse. Black Mamba had said that if someone suddenly changed, it was time for them to die. Black wont like it, Belman said in a low voice. Everyone is such a fan of Black Mamba. If Black doesnt like it then I guess I shouldnt. Mike rolled his eyes as he started the engine. Mike, who had a lot of war experience, knew how important these supplies were to their ongoing survival. It was just that he was aroused by the prospect of the adrenaline he felt in initiating murder. Still, his instincts could not surpass the fear of survival that Siberia instilled in him. Not very long after, the sounds of war subsided. The gunshots of Dragonov rang through the air for some time, then that too became quiet. It hadnt even been 20 minutes. How did it go? Miguels eyes shook nervously. Youll see once you get there. As Mike started the engine, Belman and Miguel got into their own respective drivers seat. The three pickups turned to head north. What is this! Mike felt surprise, relief, and disbelief all at once. His surprise was at the sad war scene. His relief was that his comrades were all okay. His disbelief was upon finding out about Black Mambas compulsive action. The people that demanded they immediately go searching for Black Mamba were the higher ranking officials that had joined their team later: Sergeant Belman, Sergeant Morris, and Corporal Sean Migual. Turn on the headset. At Miguels words, Mike got angry. Are you stupid? The headset only works within 1500. We can follow their tire tracks, Belman suggested. No. Its night now. How could we possibly find him in this wide place with swamps and the desert? If we get in their radar, we are done for, Burimer objected. The original members of the team were against searching for him. They all knew the extent of Black Mambas skills. It would be really difficult to find him. The rebel army and Black Mamba had been sucked into the dark desert. If they had a search dog that could track them by their smell it would be one thing, but they were not dogs. You all still seem to not know Wakil very well, Ombuti, who had been sleeping, said as he approached them. Everyones gaze fell on Ombuti. Wakil is Azrael before he is a sniper. He could bring back Mitterrands pubic hair if he decided that he wanted to. The jackals cant harm a lion. All we can do is wait. Their gaze, which had been directed at Ombuti, switched over to Captains mouth. Hes not wrong. Lets put our trust in Black Mamba. If we lose our way during the pursuit, we could be counter-attacked. Captain put to rest the idea of chasing after them. He decided to just trust in Black Mambas skills. They had all experienced Black Mambas close-contact fighting skills. Black Mamba had the capacity to survey and hide in ways they couldnt even understand. You couldnt stop a person that could hide and kill someone without any notice, and that was the type of person Black Mamba was. He secretly hoped that Black Mamba would be able to completely erase the enemys headquarters. If the Habib armys head was cut, it would greatly help in maintaining the survival of the Lattell team. The seven remaining members and Ahmud revved the throttle as fast as they could. The sniper who only targeted their heads was the manifestation of fear itself. The back of his head tingled. They were ravaged by the fear of being caught by the neck by the devil himself. The losing soldiers ran for their lives back to the main headquarters. The time that Ahmud had gotten out of Toko Doum and arrived at Koro Mojanga was one in the morning. It had been a mere two hours since he dragged his remaining men out of battle. Frolinats 3rd brigade was in a state of emergency. The headquarter barracks had over ten rooms. There were now not many soldiers left in the large barracks, which had once housed one thousand men. There were only 108 left, including the guards. Fifteen minutes after Ahmud pulled his soldiers out of the war and arrived at headquarters, the angel of death who had followed behind them arrived there also. Black Mamba hid the bike 3km away from his final destination. He did not want to run a 25km marathon to return back at night. He strolled casually to the rebel camp as if taking a leisurely walk. Black Mambas pursuit was extremely spontaneous. He was extremely stressed out by Frolinats constant stalking and attacks. He was full of anger and annoyance at the filthy humans who had caused Chartress injury and a bomb out of a suicidal child soldier. His uncles place had always been crawling with bugs. There were especially a lot of fire ants. If bitten by one of those pesky little things, it itched, and if he scratched it, his skin would swell. Unable to stand it any longer, he found the fire ant hill and poured gasoline into it and set it aflame. To Black Mamba, Frolinat was no different than those fire ants. If the fire ants kept crawling out, he had to just destroy the anthill. He was intending to erase their entire headquarters. If were are too many of them to handle, he could wreak havoc on as many of them as he could, then make a run for it. He was sure that he would be able to escape, whatever the situation. At least as long as he didnt meet anyone like himself. The first quarter moon lit the night blue and cast a long shadow on the desolate earth like a shining white smile. The items in his backpack that would be used to erase life were the Dragonov and the kukri. The Frolinat 3rd brigade was located at a higher location than the rest of its surroundings. The surrounding 200m outside the walls were cleared of everything. It made it that much easier to keep guard of the place. Swish! Black Mamba ignored gravity and shot up into the air. He landed on a eucalyptus tree 10 meters up and calmly surveyed the area. The night was long, and he had enough items to enjoy plenty of fireworks. Three hundred meters away, he could see a shabbily made wooden guard post. There was six total, each 150m apart. Ten meters up was a searchlight. The searchlight spanned the area, then passed by him. The poor fools seem to have everything that they need. He calculated the pattern of the searchlight and smiled. The time between each cycle was 1 minute. In 1 minute, even the slowest of them could run 300 meters. He only needed 20 seconds. The silent killer, Black Mamba, was on the move. Like Quetzalcoatl, he sped through the darkness as elegantly as lightning. He didnt even have to worry about the searchlight. Black Mamba jumped over the three-meter high wired fence. He was wearing a grenade box on his shoulder, but it didnt hinder him at all. He blended into the shadows then slowly climbed up the pillar. He looked like a snake slithering up a tree to steal the eggs of the unassuming swallow. Chapter 53 - Episode 5: The Missing Mole A hand rose up from the floor of the watchtower. The guard who had been leaning on the wall suddenly got his neck twisted. Ack! With immense strength, his throat was ripped out. The guards life ended without a chance to even let out a scream. It was a gruesome death, worthy of the angel of death. The guard who had been operating the searchlight retreated backward and let out a suppressed scream. Ka kanma! (Ghost)! Swoop! In that instant, the kukri flashed. This guard too could not scream as his neck was cut off. Im sorry! I have no personal feelings against you. What can I do? Youll just have to understand. He wiped his kukri using the clothes of the dead guard and muttered to himself in Korean. It was not something he should be saying to the dead. Because of the language barrier, he knew he couldnt interrogate them, so it was better to cleanly get rid of them. The watchtower was about 1.5 square meters in area and well built with palm trees. From above the watchtower, he could see the entirety of the barracks. Its a perfect time to give them a present. Black Mamba stepped down from the watchtower, placed the box of grenades over his shoulder, then climbed back up to the watchtower. The grenade used by Frances army was the E07. The hand grenade weighed 850 grams, and the smoke grenade and flash grenade weighed 510 grams. A box containing 24 grenades in total weighed about 20kg. After Black Mamba opened the grenade box, he began to give a speech. As the war continued, Black Mamba began to grow more relaxed. Now, Frolinat soldiers, its showtime. Its been a long time since you had the ball. This may not be a clean shot, but dont boo me for it. A grenade flew to the right with the speed of a bullet. After flying a distance of 150m, it fell exactly into the watchtower. He threw another one into the left watchtower. Boom! Both the watchtowers on the right and left burst into flames and crumbled. He could clearly see the guards flying out of the watchtower due to the explosion. If a grenade explodes from a close range, even if one is not harmed by the heat of the explosion, the pressure change causes the insides to rip apart. The other three watchtowers all got the same grenade deliveries. The furthest watchtower was 400m away. Will this be possible? He had never thrown a grenade 400 meters before. With the four-second delay of the grenade and a speed of 100m per second, it would explode at exactly the time of its landing. Black Mamba took in a deep breath. Woong! The resonance shook his arteries and pulse. Schwing! The grenade flew to the other side like a point-blank shot. Boom! It exploded the moment it made contact with the watchtower. He could hear the screams of the guards with their bodies on fire. The time it took to destroy six watchtowers was exactly 10 seconds. The barracks started to bubble like cooked porridge. Del la ddun! (Its the enemy!) Hari-Keu! (Fire!) Eep tied bisur! (Hurry, get out of here!) There was a lot of yelling in Arabic he couldnt understand. This is why you shouldnt have overdone it. Why did you have to kill kids, you miserable punks, Black Mamba muttered as he continued to deliver the hand grenades to each barrack. It was delivered two at a time. Even the barracks located 300m away were not safe from his attack. Inside the building, it made whirring noises as if running a generator. When he inhaled deeply and tightened his muscles, a cold sensation flowed out to the tips of his fingers. The grenade sped out like a bullet and reached 300 m with room to spare. Lastly, he threw two of the hand grenades into the building that looked to be the main headquarters. The main barracks were encased in flames. The fire spread to the barracks next to it. The entirety of Frolinats 3rd brigade barracks was aflame. Those inside the barracks were in a panic. Pungpung! The oil storage room exploded. Hari-Keu! (Fire!) Eep tied bisur! (Hurry get out of here) The soldiers running out of the barracks yelled in a panic. There were over ten soldiers flailing around due to their bodies being on fire. My mother said that I would wet my bed if I played with fire, but I wonder if this is too much. But where is everyone? Although the barracks encompassed an area of ten thousand square meters, there were not many soldiers within it. Half of Habibs army was trying to catch Makumbo. The ones that had fought and lost to the Lattell team amounted to over 400. Excluding the soldiers who had gone out to do surveillance or were garrison, the only ones left were the guards and losing army survivors. Of course, there was no way Black Mamba could know their exact situation. Ahmud, who was taking a nap inside the barracks, woke up with a start. Aide, aide! He yelled out before realizing he no longer had an aide. Shit! His aide had been shot down at Guradi, and his second aide, Muhammed, had his head exploded off during the night attack. He ran out of the barracks on full alert. His sight was filled with his men falling like dominoes. Kanma, its him. The one who used a sniper like a machine gun, it was him. The headquarter barracks and the watchtowers were already on fire. There were only 100 men left in these barracks. It was a battle they could not win. His fear suppressed his anger. His heart became cold and Ahmud immediately ran down to the underground shelter. Ahmud hid BTR152 under the drivers seat that was stored in the underground shelter. Only two smoke grenades remained in the grenade box. Black Mamba stared forlornly at the smoke grenades then threw them to the ground like a rock without removing its pins. The RPG shooter who came out running with a rifle in his hand had his head exploded. Black Mamba placed Dragonov against the watchtower wall and started shooting in a relaxed manner. Kung kung kung! Each shot equaled a kill. It didnt matter if they were soldiers trying to quell the flames or the search team looking for intruders. They all collapsed. The soldiers who had figured out the direction from where the attack was coming from were targeted quickly. The guerrilla troops who had run out of the barracks dispersed trying to find cover. The large barracks soon became empty. The burning barracks and the splayed out corpses on the ground caused an eery silence. There were 40 corpses dispersed here and there. It had not taken 49 seconds to create this travesty. The pouring blood slowly dyed the ground red. The silence was soon broken. The survivors started to shoot in the direction of the watchtower. Kkang Kkang Kkang! The dry echoes of the AK rang through the air. Have you all finally come to your senses?! Black Mamba jumped down from the watchtower. He landed lightly onto the ground, placed the Dragonov back into his backpack, and put the AK in his hand. If you are weak, you will die. It was something he had learned when he had fought against Choi Do Shiks men at Mt. Bang Tae. Get rid of the source of the problem. He wanted to erase the entire anthill from the get-go. Black Mamba jumped into the burning barracks without any hesitation. From the back, something flew at him past his face. It was a perfectly executed roundhouse kick. Black Mambas head turned 90 degrees. Puck! The AK rifle penetrated the mans chest with a powerful force. Ka kanma! The Almighty Allah will not forgive you. The middle-aged guerrilla, who had the end of a rifle shoved through his chest, sputtered his last words. You idiot, Allah wont forgive you all first. Black Mamba let go of the neck of the rifle he was holding in his hand. He no longer wanted to use the AK that was soaked in blood. Black Mambas eyes, which looked down at the guerrilla troop who had become a gun holster, were cold. He felt no guilt over ending a life but instead thought it a waste to abandon a gun he had become accustomed to. Two of them? Black Mamba flew up in the air as if he was slingshotted upwards. Kkang Kkang Kkang! Gunshots rained over where Black Mamba had stood moments ago. Swish! Boom! Black Mamba threw his body and swung down with his kukri into the bunker. Damn! Crack! Underneath the bunker, the hidden guerrilla troops chest was completely collapsed. Sensitive to the sensation, he felt the bone and skin break. It obviously put him in a sour mood. Luckily, however, he didnt fall into a blood-driven mania like last time. The kukri penetrated the bunker past 18mm until the handle itself plowed through it. From under the bunker, blood poured out. Black Mamba didnt even check underneath the bunker and pulled out the kukri. Black Mamba entered each of the barracks and finished off any survivors. There was not a single person to escape Black Mambas wrath. Even the guerrilla troops hidden inside the ground could avoid death. Heres something good I can use. Hahaha Black Mamba broke into a smile as he found the bikes that were left behind. Crack! He broke the gas tank with his kukri. He lit the flowing gasoline on fire. He lifted the bike that was aflame like a fireball and threw it towards the barracks. Bang! The gas tank exploded and the barracks, which was the only thing that not burning, was now set aflame. Puckpuckpuck! Three guerrilla troops who had run out of the barracks fell to the ground at the same time. Black Mambas double-tap was able to become a triple tap during the actual battle. Pung! Pung! Explosions continued to happen here and there. It was probably due to the fire meeting gasoline and weapons. He circled around the place to survey the area. He did not find any survivors. Even though he tried to use his tracking skills, the unstable environment made it difficult. The smell of burning flesh only made his head spin. Black Mamba stepped into the last of the burning barracks. Inside the empty barracks, all that was felt was a large hanging flag. It was a flamboyant flag with a Shamshir and AK crossed together. Their flag is sure nice looking. Black Mamba pulled out the flag to take as a souvenir, then turned his footsteps around. He registered a couple of survivors, but he ignored them. Once his burning killer instinct had calmed, the face of his teacher once again came to mind. Ksitigarbha, Ksitigarbha! Black Mamba put his hands together and bowed deeply. It was but tears of an alligator but within one night, he had ended the lives of many. His heart felt heavy. At 1:30 AM, the hand of the angel of death was merciless. Within just 30 minutes, Frolinat 3rd brigade was not destroyed merely as a military target but was destroyed of all life. After coming out of Frolinats 3rd brigade headquarters, Black Mamba turned to stare blankly at the burning barracks. About a hundred people had been erased off of Azraels list. He thought it lucky that there were few civilian casualties. When he had chosen to become a mercenary, he had already come to accept the lust for blood, so what could he do about it now? Each person has a purpose. Even with the brain of a genius, if one lived like a farmer, they became useless. If one sits in an office crunching numbers, what use is it ones ability to think outside the box? His core purpose may be to be the devil of war. Black Mamba turned from the fire engulfed barracks. Captain and his comrades would be hopping mad, but if it ended well, it would be good for everyone. Thirty minutes after the angel of death had left, Ahmud crawled out of the underground shelter. He stared blankly at the burning barrack from the shelter entrance. His men were covered in shrapnel and burnt to a crisp like dried squid over a fire, but he had survived like a cockroach. The moment Black Mamba returned, the Lattell team ran to him. Captain didnt even think to reprimand Black Mamba as he ran with all his might down Trident Rock. In the special forces, departing the war scene is was the first step to surviving. After collecting the supplies, they had departed Toko Doum as if their tails were on fire. Lattell team had arrived to a valley 15km south of Ekiya by nightfall. Only then did Captain and Black Mamba come face to face. Ugh, you stink. Captain covered his nose upon smelling Black Mamba. The smell of blood, sweat, and gunpowder mixed to create an unbelievably disgusting scent. Lets first hear your report. Yes, sir! The 3rd brigade command center was at Koromonga oasis. There were 12 individual barracks within their main headquarters. I cleared it out and left it in ashes. Ack! What do you mean? Captains mouth dropped open. This guy always seemed to do something beyond what was logical. Hes saying he mowed them all down. Simple for Black, as expected, Burimer said smiling. How many did you kill? I dont know the exact number. I put in 22 grenades into their barracks. I would assume I directly killed about 60 of them. Oh my! Wow! Captain and Burimer exclaimed in surprise. Black, you disobeyed orders and broke away from the operation. Do you admit it? Acting out on your own during an operation is punishable by immediate death. Of course, this didnt apply to Black Mamba. Captain only intended to make his point. Toong chi ja. Black Mamba threw the flag that he stole from Frolinats headquarters to Captain. Captain and Burimer, obviously, didnt understand his Korean. Chapter 54 - Episode 6: The Missing Mole Of course, the important thing was not the Korean language, but the flag. The two of them glared at the flag as if they were about to rip it and eat it. Burimer, is this real? Its not a fake, is it? It is the 3rd Frolinat armys flag. It belongs to the best Habib army located in the north. Hahaha, as expected of Black Mamba. Look here, they sewed the sword and rifle in great detail, piece by piece by hand. Its a piece of art. Captains face was full of greed. He looked to be ready to roll up the flag and stick it in his pocket. Dont be greedy. We have to hand it over to headquarters. Captain licked his lips greedily at Burimers reprimand. Just close your eyes once for this. If we auction this off, we could easily get a million francs for it. No, it could even be ten million francs. No! Burimer yelled at him, smiling. The flag that Black Mamba had brought was an exorbitant prize. It was the flag that he had brought while escaping the enemies from the headquarter he erased. It symbolized their teams success and would become an item worth boasting about within Legion Etranger. Black, what does ddoong jjuh mean? Burimer could not decipher Captains pronunciation. Ddoong chuh? Puhaha! The phrase toong chuh which meant to call it even changed to ddong chi ja meaning to steal. You couldnt do anything about the cultural and language barrier. It means that Ive done my part, so dont nitpick at it any longer. Hm, thats ddong jjuh. Korean is too hard. Burimer, how should we deal with this monster? Captain asked Burimer with a smile on his face. Burimer smiled back. Only the highest-ranking commander can deal punishment to a soldier with a call name. Commander Philip or an elder curled up in the headquarters at Aubagne. Then do we have to call it even? We cant do that. A Corsica proverb says that you can forgive a cheating wife, but you cannot forgive a child who runs away from home. If you feel it is unfair, you can beat him and feed him to the piranhas. Captains face brightened. That sounds good. Black, the results you brought will null your punishment for leaving the team. However, you caused distress to your comrades and so you must receive punishment for that. Do you agree? Yes, sir. A call name agent was able to act on his own judgment during battle. Paul knew this but pretended he didnt. He had been worried sick waiting for him for the last two hours. He thought it wasnt fair to just let him off the hook. Ombuti, who was listening, interjected, We cant. How could you repay a comrade that has brought the best result of a battle in Legion Etrange history with this sort of treatment? You would beat Wakil, who has saved your lives? If you must beat him, then beat me, his servant, instead. Captain and Burimer blinked confusedly. Even in this situation, a cultural clash happened. Ombuti couldnt understand Legion Etrangers culture and traditions. Black Mamba burst out laughing. Hahaha! Ombuti, this is my problem. No. I cannot let my noble master receive punishment from lowly humans. As a Tuareg warrior, I cannot accept this. Ombuti stepped forward with his eyes ablaze. The three people were in a situation where they could neither laugh nor cry. Captain, I dont want my name erased because I angered Azrael. Lets call it even with Black Mamba donating a million francs to us. Emil was trying to arbitrate. That sounds good. Black will be rewarded greatly this time. All the mercenaries agreed. Black, do you agree? Alright. If we return safely, I will hand over a million francs. Wow! We love you, Black! Emil ran forward with his hands open. Black Mamba stepped slightly to the side, then hit him in the back of the head. What kind of partner steals my wallet? All the comrades burst out laughing. Black Mambas body suddenly started to tremble. Ombutis gaze was locked onto the back of Black Mamba. His gaze was similar to a woman looking longingly at a lover. It was the 11th day of operation Smoke out Raccoon. Lattell team arrived at the location 10km northeast of Tanga oasis. They had traveled deep into the Bodele lowlands, then turned around to come right back out. Ekiya oasis was 15km north of here. With Ekiya right in front of them, Captain bypassed it. As Ombuti suggested, he looked for a location to hide their supplies. What a place! Burimer exclaimed. The location that Ombuti lead them to was a place on top of a boulder that looked like a castle wall. It was practically 4km high. It was surrounded by woods, and there was even a creek with water gurgling up from it. Captain named it Mark Hill. The mercenaries gathered and dug through the dirt. The ground was sand, so it was easy to shovel. They shoved the surplus supplies, rations, a motorcycle, and three pickups into the hole. They covered it with a water-resistant tent, then shoveled dirt back over it. To survive, they needed to have emergency supplies hidden away. The work took about half a day to finish. The team members collapsed in exhaustion after finishing the manual labor. Their moods drastically sloped downwards. Even though they had destroyed the enemy troops at Toko Doum and Black Mamba had obliterated their headquarters, they were not in the spirit to celebrate their victory. It was because of the information leak. They were kites with strings detached. The downward mood was expected. Within ten days, they had had four large-scale battles. The mercenaries who had had to endure battle after battle without rest were exhausted beyond belief. Some of the soldiers were suffering from body aches and ringing in their ears. North of Chad in Sahel, there are no restaurants or hotels. You could not lay on a comfy bed or order a buttery steak. The only thing they could do was lay their backs on the dry dirt and eat unappetizing army rations while drinking water mixed with limestone. Their conversations disappeared, and a gloomy silence set over them like a fog. Another reason for the depressed mood was Chartres, who was usually talkative and upbeat, being injured. After finishing up their meal, the team member who was not keeping guard went to sleep. After Black Mamba became part of the operation, he became obsessed with his training. He did not stop, even on the days he had fought vigorous battles. It was a way to maintain his sanity and to rid himself of his dejected feelings. Once his comrades fell asleep, he crept out of the cantonment. After Black Mamba had experienced the resonance, he understood what hollow gravity felt like. Gravity was a force that pulled on outward bodies. His teacher had told him of a way to open up the door to his chi. Once he understood this concept, he was able to resist the pull of gravity. The opposite force was the core to realize gravity. The forces of nature have been disturbed. As his teacher had said, when the time comes, he would understand it. At the 36th hour, he figured out 216 positions from the time the sun rose to the time it set. Black Mamba faced the east and stood up straight. Papapat! He sped through the air so fast, his uniform looked like it would rip. His five fingers were spread out as he swiped the air up and down. He looked like a deer waving his antlers at its predator. A whoosh of air sounded. Following it, he placed his two hands to his chest then thrust it forward fast as lightning. Now the deer had hit the predator with its antlers. He repeated the movement of the deer attacking with the antler, retreating, then making contact, then retreating again. Ho- heup heup heup-, Ho- heup- heup- heup, Ho- His breathing and movements were coordinated as he moved. It was a breathing technique he had grown accustomed to. He would take the smallest of breaths inward, then exhale long and thin. If normal people breathed this way, they would get cyanosis. When he too first started, he had fainted. He had collapsed after turning blue. Thats how difficult this sort of breathing technique was. The start and end of achieving resonance is in the breathing. You must be able to control your breathing to read the breathing of others. You must know your breathing to reach the end of resonance. He could practically hear his teachers voice. Its been 20 years. It means Ive figured it out already. He wanted to show the teacher who had nagged and beaten him with a cane what he had finally become. Black Mamba, who was now called the angel of death, would only be remembered as the pathetic underling hitting a moktak to his teacher. The breathing techniques goal was to increase the VO2max and the Lactate Threshold, LT. The VO2max measures the amount of oxygen intake needed to reach the highest intensity of exercise specific to each person. It takes into account the amount of oxygen intake during cardio against the time it takes for it to create usable energy. It is measured in mL/kg/minute. The higher the VO2max, the longer a strong force could be applied. To put it in other words, the VO2max measures the combination of the amount of oxygen intake by the lungs, the blood circulation of oxygen through the body, and the muscle oxygen usage. Backward, it means that the more strength you need or the faster you move, your body requires more oxygen. The reason Black Mamba was stronger and could move faster than the average person was because of the difference in their VO2max measurement. VO2max is determined by genetics. With training, the max it could be increased is only 10%. His teacher snorted in laughter. Have you tried it? They dont know squat when they talk about extensive training. His teachers logic was that they never raised the extent of the training to match the extent of their desired increase. At his teachers unreasonableness, Mu Ssang was left in shambles. He had to carry two 80kg tires or a tree stump and run up and down the mountain. The average persons VO2max is 45ml/kg/m, a marathoners is 80ml/kg/m, and if you are obese, it could decrease to 20ml/kg/m. It was something he already knew also. The problem was that his teacher proposed his goal as 450ml/kg/m, which was 10 times that of an average person. He was telling him to be a mammoth wearing the skin of a human. The second was the Lactate Threshold. The Lactate Threshold was also called the No Oxygen Threshold. If you raised the intensity of exercise, lactate acid builds up in your blood and muscles. The point where this rapid build-up happens is the Lactate Threshold. If you surpass the lactate threshold, you create energy without using oxygen. It means that once you surpass this limit, the muscles grow exponentially more tired faster, and so causes pain. If you do not reduce the intensity of exercise, you will eventually reach a state where you cannot move at all. The Lactate Threshold measures the degree of intensity of the exercise by the percentage of oxygen intake. Meaning, if the VO2max at 60% makes the LT drastically increase, then the LT will be measured as 60%. Unlike VO2max, LT can be raised through training. It is estimated that an average person can raise their LT from 50% all the way to 90%. If a person with a VO2max of 50ml has an LT of 70%, then this person could function with less than 35ml of oxygen. It would be harder to raise the extent of the exercise past this point. If the max oxygen intake is based on ones skills, then lactate tolerance is based on energy efficiency. At the time, Mu Ssang had researched his VO2max, LT, and ATP usage to figure out part of the secret to building the perfect body. He had manipulated and inserted ancestral bone to change the composition of his muscle, bone, skin, and blood. If he had changed the cells of his body itself, he would have mutated his entire genetics. If the DNA is changed, the VO2max and LT would obviously change as well. The total amount was exchanged for efficiency. His teacher had told him to elevate his VO2max to 10 times the average person and to max out his LT. It meant that his physical skill would be 20 times that of the average person. Of course, this was all based on endurance. Muscular strength was another problem. A chimpanzees strength is five times that of humans. Even though they are about the same size, a human messing with a chimpanzee would be annihilated. Humans civilized way of life has caused their muscular strength to be downgraded. Homo Sapiens have directed their energy use to grow the brain instead of muscle. It would have changed the direction of the Evolutionary Arms Race. A bored official in Australia experimented on this by making a person and a horseplay tug of war. He made a thoroughbred horse compete against 20 adult males. The horse weighed 1,100kg, and the combined weight of the 20 men was 1,650kg. The victor did not speak. What would have been the reason that a heavier force lost? Chapter 55 - Episode 7: The Missing Mole The muscle strength of a horse compared to that of a human is different. The muscle fiber and the length of the connecting filament are different. According to Huxleys Sliding Theory, muscle contraction happens when actin and myosin slide into each other. Using strength means that the muscles are contracted. The contraction is stronger when the connecting portions of actin and myosin are longer. It is similar to the concept of a steel frames ability to provide support. The length of the steel frame that is interconnected creates stronger support. The reason that the Sampoong shopping mall collapsed was due to the shortened length of the steel frames within the support beams. As a result, a horses muscle filaments movement is much longer than that of a human. Chimpanzees, dogs, and cats also have longer ones. The only mammal that has a shorter filament than humans is the sloth. The human muscle evolved to be more on the delicate, detailed side instead of that of power. Their creation and use of tools had made it necessary for them to require a delicate touch. For example, there is a human muscle in the shoulders and the buttocks that is connected to a movable joint. It is the rotator cuff. The rotator cuff allows complicated movements. However, a heavy load can easily damage it. Black Mamba had switched out his muscle cells entirely. The number of mitochondria and its efficiency was different. The number and strength of his muscle fibers became different. Black Mamba was a person with the brain of a man and the body of an African water buffalo. He was a Lamborghini with a tank engine. Ohgeumgong and his breathing technique made it possible to efficiently bring out the strength of Paranthropus. The cell uses glucose and organic matter in combination with oxygen to create ATP. The more ATP needed, the higher the amount of oxygen required. This breathing technique helped increase the efficiency of oxygen delivery to these cells. Black Mamba finally took in a deep breath using his breathing technique. Whing! His trembling body became calm. He finished 216 training positions in 25 minutes. A year before, it had taken him three hours. The first quarter moon hung brightly in the sky. The sounds of bugs buzzed in the barren Sahel. Underneath the moonlight, the wrinkled face of his teacher appeared before him. If it had been his father and mother who had kept him alive in childhood, it was Monk DaeWoo who stopped him from rebelling during his youth and became the rock in which he could come to live a new life. He remembered the moment when he had first met his teacher in Chunsaeng Mountain. It had been a deep night, deep in the mountains. If it hadnt been fate, there was no way they would have met each other. If anyone had heard that Black Mamba had been beaten to a pulp by an old midget, they would have all laughed in disbelief. Now in his eighties, he worried whether he could eat the offerings he was given, if he could light the fires without anyone to help him with the firewood, or if he was able to reap the gifts of the outside world. He pulled out a Cohibazigol from his pocket. After vigorous exercise, it felt good to revel in the lung-damaging act. Black Mamba didnt think much of it. Above the bluish cigarette smoke, the moon shone brightly over the field of wild chrysanthemums. The wildly flowering forget-me-nots, the plentiful waterfowl, and the jumping vicious piranhas flashed through his mind. When he opened his eyes, he moved location to location, killed, escaped, chewed on ceration, then slept. His reasons for what he was fighting for or why he was killing became hazy. He began to wonder whether he was even human anymore. Am I human? It was a question that arose every time he seemed to forget about it. After all that time he had spent trying to live like a human, he ended up in the middle of Africa killing numerous people, smelling of their blood, and calmly smoking a cigarette. That was the type of human he had become. Even after running several hundred kilometers, the surroundings did not change, the weather was hot and dry, the sandy winds were ongoing, and the flies and mosquitoes hoarded over them. There was not a single thing that he liked about the place. He sorely missed the calm nature of Korea. He missed Korea, where he could get lightning-speed delivery with one phone call, get a cold ice coffee for 300 won, and rest under the shade of a Zelkova tree. How refreshing the soymilk noodles sold by the grandmother at Chilsung market was! Damn, I thought I hated that place, but I still long for it! He flicked the end of his half-smoked cigarette as he muttered in annoyance. There was no one who would give him grief over throwing a cigarette butt on the ground at Sahel. He pulled out the kukri from the sheath at his side. Shinogi (the back of the knife) and Yokote (the sharp part of the knife) was smoothly connected, and the hamon (the visual effect created on the blade) on the blade reflected the moonlight and cast a bright light. He had used it numerous times, but not a single tooth was broken. It was practically a luxury item meant for the gods. His teacher never was able to pass down his martial arts skills to him. The only martial arts he had learned from Piev was the knife fighting Krav Maga. After learning it, he realized there was not much to it. A weapon is an extension of ones hand. Within the 216 positions of Ohgeum, all those skills had already been in it. In knife fighting, there is slashing, swinging downwards, upwards, swiping, and stabbing. The rest are all derivations of it. The main difference is timing, power, and speed. A flowing stream does not rot, and a rolling stone does not gather moss was the teaching of Ohgeumgong. It was the kukri that he used on top of the Ohgeumgong combined with the Cheongpabo. Black Mamba aggressively moved his body. The blade reflected the moonlight that wrapped around his entire body. The energy he was emitting caused the sand around him to rise up hazily. The sound of his blade slashing the air whirred. Captain and Burimer had walked out of their resting ground and into the place to stand guard. Their conversation ended abruptly upon seeing him. Look at that. Im looking. The two peoples mouths hung open. They had seen him training by slicing flies, but this was something else entirely. He couldnt even see Black Mambas body. A bluish light glowed out of him, and the continuous slicing of the blade made a sound like a motor. Captain shook his head back and forth. Is he human? He could be another species. Theres no way a Homo Sapien could be like that. Wasnt Black from your squad? You cant even know everything about your wife, who you make skin contact with every day. I just assume thats just how he is and let him be. Hm, thats true. Is that also the Korean martial arts known as Ohkeumggoong? I wouldnt know. Ive never seen any sort of training like that before. If we were enemies against that man, we would have ended up as Capris (sliced cheese). That guys hands and feet are scarier. Before we become capris, well become chorizo (a sausage made of grated leftover pork). Captain pushed aside his conversation with Burimer and stared in a trance at Black Mambas training. Woong! The blade, which had been slicing through the air, stopped suddenly. Black Mamba slid forward. The movement made it seem like he was sliding over ice. The sliding body suddenly changed directions at 90 degrees and flung forward. He looked like a squash ball bouncing off after hitting a wall. It was Cheongpabo training. He would slide through the ground like a snake, then jump into the air like a flying squirrel. When he landed, the ground would shake. He swung, turned, ran, flew, and slid. Captain, who had been watching him train this way, stared with his mouth agape. I cant even trust the report. Even headquarters doesnt know Black Mambas abilities exactly. Of course. Black Mamba didnt reveal his identity. If headquarters knew of his skills, they would never use him as a throwaway card. Captain nodded his head. When Commander Piev and Philip heard about it, they too could not believe it. Sniping skills was just one part of his many skills. They could not believe that a man like that could exist. Hahaha, when Black Mamba returns, he will be upset. Captain smiled sourly with a somber expression. All he had to do was give Black Mamba the list of people he wanted to get rid of. His success was guaranteed. He would find his own way to complete the task at hand. Hahaha, I feel sorry for those who got in the way of Black Mamba. They probably didnt die a pretty death. First, we have to return alive. Black Mamba is our last hope, Captain muttered depressingly. Black Mamba disappeared into the darkness. Where did he go? He is probably surveying the area. He disappears each night like that. I pretend I dont know. Whew, he sure is a monster. After continuously battling with the enemy, how could he move like that? How high are his endurance and stamina? Black Mamba was like a compact car with a 550 horsepower truck engine. He was a man with the muscle strength of a water buffalo. There was no way that the two people could have known that Black Mambas VO2max and LT was 20 times that of the average person. Captain and Sergeant Burimer were lost in a serious dilemma. A grave silence fell between the two of them as they sat facing each other. Raccoon had hidden his position. No, there was no way to find him. They were supposed to be receiving information from headquarters and formulating a plan, but the information was being leaked. The condition of his men was plummeting. They were in the worst possible scenario. Damn punks! Curse words flew out of Captains mouth. He wanted to rip apart the headquarter intelligence agents and those in charge of DGSE. They were acting like the Bodele lowlands, which was ten times the size of Corsica, the Marseille soccer field. Burimers face looked grim also. Should we request a recall? We cant be sure yet. It might smell fishy, but there is no way the headquarters will abandon their own family. That is true. Burimer nodded his head. Legion Etranges pride was not cheap. He couldnt imagine that a high-ranking official would resort to being a spy to gain a few bucks. If the commander doesnt trust my reports, then the situation will be more serious. Without knowing where the leak is coming from, we cant just tell them our suspicions. This was what the strategic team had to contemplate. The team members might not be saying anything, but they have a lot of complaints. They are stupid if they have no complaints. Thats why the atmosphere is a mess. Hows Black Mamba? He doesnt seem to care much about it. Even if he suspects the state of our situation, all he knows is battle and training. If he returns, well see a bloodbath. Take good care of Black Mamba. Hahaha! Captain smiled as he imagined the relieving sight. It was the sight of Commander Philip slapping Black Mamba across the face, causing his teeth to fall out. If that guy starts going off on his own again, we cant control the situation. For the time being, restrain communication. Lets look around Ekiya. This feels like shit. We cant help it. We are soldiers. We got a command, so we must do our best. Hows Mike? With Black Mamba around, he cant pull anything funny. He knows that hell get buried if he makes a fuss. Hes not dumb enough to pick a fight with a tiger. Make sure to keep the team in check. A smile rose onto Captains face. Mike, who had gotten a beating from Black Mamba, was fretting anxiously. Only Belman and himself knew of the situation. Alright. If we continue on like this, we will eventually reach a point where its either Frolinat or us that will be completely destroyed. Captain smiled. Youre right. Weve already cut down the best northern army, Habib, in half. Black destroyed their headquarters, so the Habib army is probably going half crazy right now. Haha, if we have Black Mamba, we already have Legion Donner waiting for us. We have to live to receive our reward. We should rest tomorrow. The condition of Black Mamba and the rest of them are a mess. I agree. Even if I combine all the battles Ive fought in so far, it cant compare to these last ten days. The punks will be out of their minds for some time. If we want to return alive, we have to judge the situation accurately. Because Black Mamba had destroyed the enemy headquarters, they were able to gain some time. They were even able to find time to rest. As the night got deeper, the sighs of both of them grew deeper as well. It was the 13th day of operation Smoke Out Raccoon. The day the Lattell team rested, they decided to survey the nearby village. Not a single team member expected Ekiyas Raccoon to be there. They had received the information, so they were forced to hope for the slim chance it would be true. Chapter 56 - Episode 8: The Missing Mole Ombuti, do we have enough gandura and ritam? We werent able to sell a lot last time, so we have a lot left in stock. At Burimers question, Ombuti answered him jokingly. The strict Ombuti had gotten used to the relaxed nature of the other mercenaries. Well split into three groups. Captain, Jang Shin, and Morris will be Alpha, Mike, Miguel, and Emil will be Beta, and Burimer, Black Mamba, and Ombuti will be gamma. Belman will nurse Chartres at the camp. Beta will guard against any unexpected turn of events. Finding out that he was a backup team caused Mike to flare his nostrils, but upon glancing over at Black Mamba, he didnt argue any further. Burimer added to Captains command, Wear the gandura over your uniforms and wrap the ritam tightly over it. Only take self-defense guns, and Ombuti and Morris will make contact with the natives. Captain waved Black Mamba over. Black, entering the village is dangerous. Were going in trusting you. Whether the villagers are for or against the northern army, they have a much higher chance of cooperating with them than us. You must do what you must based on the need. Black Mamba nodded without answering back. The northern part of the Sahel belt was occupied by Muslims. The majority of the citizens were Arabs. The most prevalent people in the north were known as the Toubou, and they too were Arab. The native Raka and Umbum clans were also Muslim. Maybe it was due to their religion being the same, but they strongly accepted the influences of Libya. Gaddafi continuously stirred them and pushed them toward civil war. There was a high chance the Ekiya civilians and the rebel guerrilla troops were interconnected. Captain instructed them to swiftly get rid of any man or woman, old or young, if they sensed that they were part of the resistance. He was not only forced to be a living radar but was also assigned as an eraser man. He didnt like it, but it was something that had to be done. Captain patted his shoulder as if relaying to him that he understood exactly how he felt. Black Mamba was sick of Chad as a country, the Sahara desert, and the wretched place that they were in called Sahel. The annoyingly dry heat, the hoard of flies and mosquitoes that attacked them day and night, the never-ending sandy winds, the rebel troops that stuck to them like fleas, the traitors that backed them into the cornerhe also hated the rebel guerrilla forces, the government troops, and Makumbo who they called Raccoon. What he hated the most was the fact that he had to kill people. He couldnt even count the hundreds that he had already killed. He felt that he would never be able to rid himself of the smell of blood-soaked sand that was branded in his soul. His teacher would never be able to imagine what his apprentice had become. It had been a year since he hit the moktak and read the Buddhist proverbs. The more he murdered, the heavier his heart became. As mercenaries, they had no choice, but murder was still murder. He was also afraid of how he was becoming less and less affected by the murders. The image of Gaji pruning trees with an ax overlapped with his current kukri-holding self. After being framed and losing his love, Mijikiko, Gaji was pushed into war by a powerful government monster. The image of Gaji yearning for Mijiko in the fields of Manju overlapped with his current state. Damn, to live like a human, I have to kill other humans! The monologue of Komika and Junpei flowed out. Whether it was a mask or their real face, there are some conscientious Japanese. Beta was set to stand guard outside the village in case of emergencies, and Alpha and Gamma stepped inside the village. In Sahel, the roofs of the houses were made with tied reeds. The walls were made with braided reeds or cow dung stacked on top of each other. The dried reeds were good kindling. If there was ever a fire, the area ran a great risk for swift destruction. Although it sounded ridiculous, cow dung was Sahels unique construction element. Because it was fibrous and contained oil, cow dung, when applied onto walls, made them hard and sturdy. Black Mamba, Burimer, and Ombuti entered the village as a group. The eyes of the natives upon seeing troops in unfamiliar uniforms were filled with fear. At the village entrance, women were collecting water into jugs. The women had their entire upper bodies exposed, and they could see the bottom of the puddle that had a pool of muddy water. Every time the women moved, their sagging breasts would dangle. Nimi dugral! Burimer clicked his tongue and turned his head. Korean curse words had become customary for the Lattell team. Black Mamba too felt embarrassed and disgusted and turned away. His fantasy regarding a womans breasts was quickly shattered. The longing he felt for his mothers breast and the lust that he felt for Hae Youngs breasts were tainted. He realized the truth that every womans breasts were not beautiful. Wherever you went in Sahel, they used pools as watering holes. A pool was not water that sprouted up, but stagnant gathered water. Not only was it muddy, but it was not sanitary. Other than a few oasis villages, it was difficult to see clear wells of water. Why were they not digging wells? He couldnt understand it. The thing Black Mamba could not understand the most from his perspective was prayer. These people praised Allah at every moment. They would lie in prayer several times a day to chant out in praise. At the straw bridge, there had never been enough food, so the women went out into the fields. They picked herbs, gathered grains, and harvested mountain vegetation. They sometimes even brought back cuts of unripened barley. All these people did was pray. Their children were starving to death, so what was the point of praying for Allahs grace? He clicked his tongue. It may be that the more difficult reality was, the more fervent their attachment to religion became. They entered the village. They did not see a lot of men, and there were only women and children sitting in front of their houses. Even the children that should have been running around playing were lying under the shade of their houses. Each one of them had protruding ribs and inflated stomachs. Their bloodshot eyes looked up at the unfamiliar faces. Ombuti, there are not a lot of men. Is it due to the war? That is probably the reason. Those Frolinat punks probably forcefully drafted all of them. Whew, the more I kill, the more they will get conscripted, Black mamba sighed. Wakil, dont hold it in your heart. It is these peoples fate. True. What could I possibly do about it! Black Mamba stared at the woman with the sad blank look in her eyes. In the womans embrace was a small, bony child. It made his heart ache. He pulled out a piece of chocolate from his bag and handed it to the woman. Ah shoo kuruka! Thank you! The woman said quietly as she received the chocolate. Her frail trembling hands unwrapped the chocolate and placed it in the childs mouth. Damn! Black Mamba looked away. He felt like he could cry. All mothers in the world were all the same. They pulled out some supplies from their backpacks and handed them to the women carrying children. Ombuti watched this scene with a joyful expression. Ombuti asked the women about this and that. Black Mamba couldnt understand any of the fast-spoken Arabic. Ombuti shook his head. It looked like it didnt matter anyway. Black Mamba didnt want to show his disappointed face, so he turned his head. Inside the village, he saw a large, thorned tree. Above the thorned tree were several goats eating its leaves. Goats climbed trees like a puma. It was a funny sight, but no laughter came to him. He felt bad for the goats that were forced to climb the top of a tree just to eat a handful of leaves. Black Mamba, who could not communicate with the villagers, could do nothing but guard Burimer and Ombuti. Ombuti, being familiar with the village, was able to gain essential information. Captain, it looks like Makumbo stopped by this place for a bit. They are saying that an elderly man and three armed guards had been here. When was that? Three days ago. Hm! Captain was in a difficult position. At the end of their trials and tribulations, they had finally arrived at their intended destination, but all they had found was the urine trail of the Raccoon before he disappeared. Bodele was too wide. They couldnt even guess at which cave the Raccoon would be hiding. They were at least relieved to find that the government headquarters had not fed them fake intel. Ombuti, we should check the surroundings. Alright. The village leader says that if we give them money, they will rent out a house for us. I cant trust them, I hate ticks and fleas more than the rebel forces. Emil nodded his head vigorously. Strangely enough, out of the group, Emil was attacked the most by bugs. The looks of the natives toward the mercenaries caused them discomfort. There was not a single mercenary that wished to stay in this dirty cow dung smelling place overnight. That night, they searched the Amja and Yungsur villages, but there was no trace of what they were looking for. Black Mamba felt sorry for Captain, who was trying so hard. From the time he was very young, Black Mamba had been betrayed many times. He had already come to realize that another team had taken Raccoon for their own. He was just not saying his suspicions out loud. Lattell team made camp at a place 5km away from Yungsur village. For three days, they searched all the surrounding areas around Ekiya oasis. They visited five small and large villages and investigated Tangas wadi and valleys. They went deep into the Bodele badlands and even searched the ruins of the Nga Zala region. They searched under every small rock. However, they reaped no results. The Raccoon must be disguising himself because they couldnt even find a hint of his tail. Burimer, where did you say the Makumbo and the Habib army had fought against each other? At Captains question, Burimer thought for a moment, trying to remember, then answered. Ongur. Ombuti, do you know Ongur? It is a village about 70km west from here. The civilians are Arab. Its not too far from here. We should try looking around there first. Even as Captain spoke, he couldnt help but sigh. He kept them moving due to his responsibility, but he couldnt shake off his sense of hopelessness. Was it better to continue wandering around searching for Raccoon without adequate information, or was it better to request their return? He couldnt reach a decision. It was the 17th day of Operation Smoke out Raccoon. Once the sun went down, the three pickups carrying the Lattell team arrived at their resting stop at Ongur. The Lattell team left the injured Chartres and Belman at the camp while the rest of them went to check around the area. Ongur oasis was about 70 acres. Among the villages of the Bodele badlands, it was one of the bigger ones. Ombuti and Morris, who knew the language, lead the way. Ooh whoo, alla ihi! (What in the world!) Ombuti slammed his hand on the handle and yelled as he entered the village. In any surprising or rushed situation, their native language popped out. The scene in front of him was worthy of Ombutis surprise. The village had disappeared, and all that was left was ruins. Most of the houses had collapsed and were burned. The houses were wooden skeletons with braided reeds for roofs. The burnt houses had collapsed completely, and all that was left of it was black ash. God damn! Morris jumped off the pickup like lightning and threw himself into the pool. He flattened himself as much as possible in the shallow pool and observed the village with his scope. There was no movement in the village. He didnt even spot a single dog. Judging that he was not in danger, Morris crawled out from the pool. His gandura was covered in mud. Damn, what is this! Morris picked off the dirt and muttered as he was cleaning himself up, Im going in. Ombuti pulled out his rifle. Once they entered the village, the corpses of people and livestock were everywhere. The corpses all had bullet wounds in their backs. Oh, Allah! When the day of judgment arrives, burn those scum in the fires of hell. Ombuti clenched his teeth. It was deja vu. The Ahim village of Dujorab Agra was a small oasis village north of Faya which required crossing 230 km through the sandy desert and the red canyons. There was a lovely daughter in her early twenties, a flower shot down before even reaching her prime. The entire village was destroyed, and the wives and daughters had been raped. Ombutis eyes burned red. Morris, do you think its the FAP punks? Im sure of it. It is their new recruit training. Those damned devils! Morris nodded his head with a stone-faced expression on his face. They threatened the natives to make them run away, then shot them in the back as practice. As practice for the child soldiers, they used real people as targets. It was an often-seen practice for Frolinat FAP. Looks like Black will have to serve just punishment to Musta and Ahmud, Morris muttered to himself. Chapter 57 - The Missing Mole The head of the northern army is Habib. Now that Wakil has beaten Ahmud and Musta, my only remaining enemy is him. Ombuti didnt know that Colonel Ahmud had managed to avoid the angel of death like a cockroach. Habib is staying low at Paya, isnt he? That is not our assigned region. At Mouris words, Ombuti gritted his teeth. That bastard is the enemy of all citizens who live in the northern three states of Chad. I plan on begging on my knees in front of Wakil. He will not be able to avoid the touch of Azrael. Mouris was a faithful Muslim but found it difficult to understand Ombutis logic. Habib was a large fish. Besides being a hard target, there was no assurance that Black Mamba would kill him. Where was that boundless trust coming from? Mouris started to feel playful. Why would Black Mamba go through such troubles? He has nothing against Habib personally. Azrael is someone who exists anywhere between this world and the underworld. If he wishes to erase a name, Habib has no choice but to die. Lets say that Black Mamba did manage to get rid of Habib. Then how would you repay this debt? The finest respect a warrior of the Tuareg can show is accepting someones strength and becoming their slave. I am Wakils slave. The owner has a responsibility to avenge the slaves enemy. Oh, my god! Mouris gripped the back of his head at Ombutis forceful opinion. He, too, was from a small tribe of Algeria, but he still found the Tuaregs culture difficult to understand. Its the town hall. Ombuti pointed at the wooden house in the center. It smells like blood. Mouris shoved Ombutis shoulder with him, pressing their bodies into the ground. An eerie silence came from inside the village. Not a head of a dog or goat could be seen. S***, did he go off again? Mouris kicked his way towards the building in a low sniping position. He barged into the hall, breaking down the door made of reeds, and immediately flinched in surprise. Ombuti! Come look at this, Mouris shouted. Within the 70 meter hall, there was a sight of an unspeakable scene spread out in blood. Ah! Ombutis eyes widened. Around thirty or more corpses lay entangled in each other. They were all women and children. It was the scene of the holocaust within a small cage. Even the mercenaries who entered the village by Mouris call couldnt hold back their surprise. What is this? At Black Mambas question, Ombuti answered, Its the doing of those FAP. Theres nothing different to be said about the governments army, but they use a different method. This is the signature of the northern army. They scare people, just to shoot at their back, or gather them in one place to massacre. And the reason? To train new soldiers. Um, any survivors? Shouldnt be. As you can see, there are none around the age of ten. Theyve kidnapped them and shot the others. They use the boys as receivers of bullets, and the girls as receivers of semen. Receivers of semen? F****** bastards! He grit his teeth. Black Mamba detested rapists the most within humankind. It had been left as a deep wound through his concerns into his mothers disappearance, and as a crime unjustly blamed on him. Black Mamba hated rapists more than murderers. This was another world of animals. Black Mambas shock after witnessing the sight of a killing field, something he had only heard of, was huge. He had heard of the villagers slaughter scenes until his ears bled, but there was a difference between hearing and seeing. They were not human. The purpose of the FAP was driving out foreigners. The problem was that there were other tribes intermingled with the recruits for the forces against outsiders. To them, everyone else instead of their own tribe members were outsiders. Other tribes didnt have the sense of nationality, either. They created a holocaust without hesitation. It was, to a point, their tribe and no other people. It was the greatest tragedy of Chad and a common problem of the new African nations in general. A purpose cannot validate the method. They were those who had thrown the least of their humanity to the wind. Despite the differences in culture and logic, destroying Kants moral obligations in the process wasnt a probable notion. He could scoff at the idea of such people preaching about the teachings of Allah. This was the type of trash that smelled the worst amongst others. Trash had to be cleaned out fast in order to avoid contamination. Northern Chad was the land of savages. It was the world of animals in the guise of humans, where the strongest survived. If you bastards are the animals, Id have a fiercer one tear you into pieces. The base instinct of a Paranthropus, a desire to destroy greater enemies, reared its head within him. Bell Man, tell me how much time has passed. At the Captains words, Bell Man shoved his hand into a surgical glove. He began to put his hand inside the stomachs bullet injury without hesitation and poked around. The smell reeked, but nothing leaked out of the wound. Bell Man took his hand out of the stomach. Between his thumb and forefinger, a white something wriggled about. It was a maggot, 3mm or less in length. Its the larva of the Gold Fly of Algeria. When one breeds in a corpse, the eggs are broken in ten hours. This hatched just now. So youre saying ten hours have passed? At the Captains question, Bell Man poked around the outside of the wound and fished up several more maggots. Its the larva of flesh flies. Gold flies lay eggs inside the corpse, but flesh flies birth as if they were landing bombs on corpses as they pass. According to the growth of this larva, its in the Flash Stage, before the manifestation. In my opinion, theyve been killed three days ago. Bell Man picked out the dates of their murder like the battle doctor he was, after graduating in forensic science. Three days! Burimer grunted. Three days was when Black Mamba destroyed Coromungas FAP 3rd battalion. They vented their anger on innocent villagers. With his careful personality, Burimer didnt voice his theory. He didnt want to burden Black Mamba. The mercenaries glanced at the Captain. They werent tempted to clean the corpses, which numbered over a hundred. They didnt have the strength, nor the time. Lets leave this to nature. At the Captains decision, they all breathed a relieved sigh. They had been worried that he would decide on burying them all. Captain! Sergeant Mouris, who had been investigating the individual houses with Miguel, came running. Mouris lifted his hand. All eyes fell on his palm. Hm, a Ruger bullet! The Captain said as he inspected the bullet. Burimer, who was handed the bullet, also felt his eyes widen. The bullet in his palm had a yellow tinge and was 19mm in length and 10mm in diameter. It wasnt a common bullet. The average Ruger Parabellum was 9mm. Theres no mistake. Its a HK54F. The HK54 was developed by Heckler and Koch, a different version of a MP5. It was a name given according to the classification system of the maker. MP5 was the bestseller of each nations special forces as a loved sub-machine gun. Frace requested a more destructive MP5. The result of such a request was the HK54. The HK54 used a unique 10 mm bullet instead of a 9 mm one. The Legion Etranger didnt use the sub-machine gun. There were mercenaries who bought the weapon for their personal use but most favored the Pamus, which had a higher damage rate. HK54s shooting range was within 200 meters. It was useless to snipers. There was no one within Deuxieme Reps 4th company who used a MP5. It was expensive and useless. Mouris, where did you find this? Theres a slightly larger house inside the village. It was on the ground there. Lets go check. The Captain made Mouris lead them into the village. A detailed investigation began. The house Mouris had pointed out was three times larger than the average houses. But even with such a size, it was only 50 square meters. The mercenaries began to rip out the wallpapers and rummaged around the floor made of reeds. It was as if they were looking for a needle in a haystack. Black Mambas eyes glinted. It was the smell of a corpse. If they couldnt see it, it was in the ground. Eyes that saw eight times sharper than any other human searched the entire house. The color of the soil underneath the chicken coop varied from the others. An average human wouldnt have been able to see such a difference, but he was not average. Black, what is it? Jang, Emil! Black Mamba didnt reply to the Captains question and called Jang Shin and Emil instead. When the two ran over, he pointed towards the chicken coop. Dig. Jang Shin was his comrade, and Emil was his partner. As a 2nd class private, they were the two he could treat comfortably. The two would have believed a hyena as a lion if Black Mamba said so. Black Mamba marked the digging point. Jang Shin and Emil, who found their shovels respectively, began to dig. Within a short time, a corpse appeared in the hole. So deep. It stinks. A really disgusting smell. Captain mumbled. His usually stoic face had turned red. The clothes on the corpse werent different from what the Ratel team was wearing. It was the traditional Arab garment of gandourah, with Litam covering the entire face. Mouris ripped the clothes with his KA-BAR knife. The teammates eyes grew large. A worn uniform was inside the gandourah. A rich yellow color, it was the uniform of the northern army. There was a Soviet gun on his belt. It was a thick Tokarev gun. Wait, Bell Man, leave everything on camera as a record. The Captains voice came out leaden. After Bell Man took a few shots, Mouris began to dig around the corpses chest with his knife. Ting- The tip of his knife shot out a piece of leaded gold. Soon after, he found another bullet. The cause of death was those two bullets in the mans chest. Burimer took up the bullets and glared ferociously. Right, it is a 10 mm HK54F bullet. The Captains face crumpled instantly. The HK54Fs 10 mm bullet was used in France exclusively. A hyena would have laughed if anyone said the beggars of FROLINAT used a HK. Hm, GIGN! The Captain whispered. GIGN was a unit terrorist team with hostage rescue as a priority. The most efficient and compatible team for the raccoon rescue was the GIGN. Only the GIGN used a HK54F. The HK54Fs bullet and the Arabs uniform said everything there was to know. Jang Shin, check the bullet and bullet shell. Oui! Jang Shin pulled out his magnifying glass and observed the shell and bullets merged parts. The bullet was coiled around the core like armor. The way a coiled shell was wrapped around the core was called a Full Metal Jacket. Most of the recent sub-machine guns used a Full Metal Jacket. The shell was made of lead and wrought iron, combined. A high-speed bullet was a shape that tightly clamped over the shell of the bullet made of soft brass. When the bullet received its impact through the gas explosion and left its cover, a minimal scratch mark was left on the connected part of the cover and core. A professional was capable of recognising the scratch mark and figuring out the whereabouts of both the cover and core. If Bell Man was a corpse professional, Jang Shin was a firearm professional. Bingo! He found the matching scratch marks of a bullet cover and its bullet. Da ge, lend me your toothpick. Toothpick? Black Mamba took out his dart from his pouch with a strange expression. It was his most loved precise, and thin dart. Should I pick your teeth, too? Black Mamba poked the bullet case of the explosive bullets. The case, around a half-inch thick, was riddled with holes easily. Hehe, I didnt say anything. Jang Shin, who conceded defeat immediately, marked the shell and core with the tip of the dart and gave them to the Captain. Captain, I marked the place where the scratches match. Jang Shin handed over both shell and core with a point. The Captain nodded. He had already predicted the result. Bell Man, protect the bullet and film. Were canceling the search for that raccoon. Return to camp immediately. The team members werent stupid. Their faces hardened. Team Ratel immediately extracted themselves from the Ongur Oasis. The team members who had their fill with the C-ration gathered without the Captains orders. Everyone was filled with tired and gloomy expressions. Burimer, what do you think? Can I be honest? The Captain didnt reply but looked encouragingly at Burimer with tired eyes. Theyre flaunting, Sergeant Burimer concluded. This mission itself, scouring the entire Sahel with a few pick-ups, doesnt make sense. The raccoon has already fled. Our teams just a chicken thrown into the alligator breeding cage at this point, Mike said. Despite Sergeant Mikes harsh words, the Captain only frowned. Mike, dont speak too rashly. Burimer stopped Mike. What, did I say something wrong? Black Mamba, who had been spacing out, glared. Damn it, Im tired whenever I see that human glare. Chapter 58 - The Shadow of Betrayal Mike, who had been grumbling at Burimer, immediately fell silent. Captain, forget the raccoon. Its a survival game from now on. Black Mamba spoke as though he had been cut with a knife. The mercenaries stared at him with surprised faces. Usually, Black Mamba was someone of action rather than words. This was the first time they had seen him state his stance strongly. There was a weight which gave them no choice but to comply. The Captains forehead creased into a frown. Why do you think so? Black Mamba didnt reply and instead closed his eyes. The rest was up to the leader. If he tried to convince them with reasons, he was only going to tire himself out. His comrades made a strange expression at the obvious reaction and turned to Burimer. Burimer was Black Mambas spokesman. This is the 17th day. The mid-Chad region which were traveling in is as large as France. What are the possibilities of our activities being revealed in such a vast place? The headquarters are leaking our movements as informative bait. Theres a different team to rescue that raccoon. What we have done is distracting the FROLINATs attention elsewhere to open the road for the real rescue team. I dont know who they are, but they must have extracted the raccoon already, Burimer replied on Black Mambas behalf. Theyre using Black Mamba as bait? Jang Shin asked with an incredulous look to his narrow eyes. They could if they didnt know the real value of Black. Mitterrand is more concerned about losing Chad. Hes capable of throwing away a mercenary unit without any problems. Blacks angry; whoever it is, theyre not going to sleep well tonight. Tsk! Emil clicked his tongue. The way the information leaked isnt even by a mole, it was a part of the plan from the start! Mike began shouting. That cant be! If this is a back-door operation, theres no reason for every single one of our activities to be leaked. Its only when the information is controlled that a back-door operation succeeds in probability. The way our activities are leaked can only indicate a mole in the communication line. Otherwise, they would have thought about keeping a moving bait alive. Bell Man, who refused to talk on the best of days, supported Mikes claim. Everyone nodded. It was the moment when everyone agreed to such logic while becoming gloomier at the same time. They had become an abandoned card while being betrayed by a spy. It was the moment they were sieged on both sides. Were Legion Etranger. We will follow whatever your decision might be, Captain. Burimer asked for the Captains decision on behalf of all the mercenaries. Im sorry. Im now confirming the situation, after the battle of Toco Toom, that a spys in the communication line. This means our information is being leaked at all times in the headquarters. The corpse Black Mamba found was the raccoons guard. From the assassins bullet and how they covered up the place, its GIGN. GIGN! Several exclaimed with shouts. GIGN was Frances proudest unit of terror team. They were recognized worldwide in the fields of suppressing terrorism, extracting captives, special protections, aerial inceptions, and much more. Team Ratel was overwhelming in terms of battle, but even they had to step aside in a hostage rescue situation. Why is GIGN gunning with Makumbo? Of course, Mike was impatient. They probably didnt sign well with the raccoons side. At Burimers reply, Mike nodded. It was possible. In a situation where both sides were trigger-happy, one slight mistake could pull the trigger. Its probably that they killed the guards for security, the Captain continued. I agree with Burimers theory. We were placed as bait for GIGN to move with ease. While our team was being chased by those scores of Piranhas, I assume the GIGN took out the raccoon relatively easily. They would the FAP massacres of those locals have anything to do with GIGN? Miguel asked with an uncertain voice. That should have been a coincidence. According to Bell Mans theory, its been three days since the locals have died. The death of that raccoons guard coincides with that day. We can assume the FAP entered the village after the GIGN extracted the raccoon. The Captain said his conclusion after analyzing the situation and evidence he had seen until then. There was a large difference between suspicion and the truth. There was a way to resolve a suspicion through denial, but when the suspicion became the truth, it became a dead end. When the leader gave his conclusion, everyones suspicion turned into anger. Sparks ignited in the mercenaries eyes. Whos the bastard?! Mike, rabid, gritted his teeth and jumped out of his seat. Mike. Sit. The Captain hasnt finished speaking. Black Mamba spoke without opening his eyes. F***, why isnt he leaving me alone. I cant even talk! Mike shrunk back silently at the eerie lift of his voice. The Captain continued in a glum voice, We cant be sure that our headquarters is involved. The General isnt someone who would sacrifice his subordinates for the sake of a back-door strategy. Im considering the DGSE members. The headquarters mole is a different matter. Dont say anything against our headquarters again. The mercenaries nodded with unsatisfied expressions. There was no one who wanted to throw away the pride of being a member of Legion Etranger. Bad things didnt come in ones. Bell Man reported with a grim face, Captain, Chartres condition is getting worse. What, didnt you say he was getting better? Its the problem of varying temperatures. Its easy to lose strength, and his muscle reactions are getting worse. Im suspecting tetanus. The Captain slapped his knee, and the sound rang. S***, I should have sent him on that last helicopter. Im calling a helicopter now. You get him ready to move. The moment we send the message, were leaving this place. It wouldnt be surprising if rockets bombard this camp at any moment. Were abiding the survival manual from this point onward as Black said. Everyone, do your best to maintain your condition. At the Captains solemn decision, everyone nodded their heads. They had nowhere to turn since the headquarters information was untrustworthy. They had no choice but to escape Sahel with their own strength. The raccoon had long left their minds. F***, I should have moved him The Captain berated himself. He had left Chartres unaided because of his own greed. The reason why he pushed back the transport was that he didnt want to lose Chartres immediate strengths in battle. The difference between day and night in Sahel was difficult for a normal person to bear. He should have had moved Chartres in spite of the helicopters sighting. C Alpha, come in; Bravo here. C Bravo, speak. C Theres an emergency patient. Needs transport. Send a helicopter. C Bravo, received. C Alpha, the raccoon is gone. Theres no way to find him. Decide our return. C Bravo, this is outside my authority. Call after 20. C Alpha, got it. The Captain was nervous about the headquarters decision. He had had enough losing Mark. He didnt want to lose any more of his subordinates in a hopeless strategy. After 20 minutes, the line opened once more. C Alpha, get in. Its Bravo. C Bravo, the emergency helicopter is being sent. Continue the mission. I repeat. The raccoon mission has to be continued. The Captains arm wound around the phone began to tremble. Those bastards sat on their desks rolling their pencils! What was he supposed to do? What kind of mission was this! C Alpha, the raccoon is missing. I ask again. The mission is impossible. Black Mamba took out the 3rd command of FROLINAT. Theyre going to jump on us like ants. C What? Do you mean Habibs 3rd command? The surprised voice was mixed with the static signal. The Sahels sand winds lowered their communication lines efficiency. C Yes. Its the Koromungas 3rd Command Unit. C Bravo, Ill answer the higher-ups. Connect in an hour. C Alpha, roger. The Captain, who finished the communication, wrapped his head in his hands. The truth had already been revealed at Ongur village. He wanted to argue, but his rationality held him back. He looked at his subordinates with dark eyes. In consideration of his subordinates, he should have reported the incident in the village and have retreated immediately. For the sake of the missions success, he had to close his mouth. He was a soldier of Legion Etranger who held the mission first, and all else came second. If the information about Ongur leaked to that rat, the entire mission would go up in flames. He had no choice but to wait for the permission of their retreat from the main quarters. First Lieutenant Etang ended the call and made a complicated expression. Damn, Im nervous as hell. Leaking the information on a strategic team was worth martial court material. France was especially strict by law against betrayers. It was, no matter what, imprisonment. If it werent for his betting debts, he wouldnt have held hands with the bastard called Twarga. He had no way of knowing whether Twarga was the bastards real name, either. Once a noose was hung it was bound to be dragged everywhere. One hundred fifty francs was a large sum unable to be resolved until his retirement. Ugh! He automatically sighed. The bastard had planned this entire thing from the moment he sat next to him in the casino. It was too late for regrets. Etang glared at the clothes hook attached firmly in the corner of the wall. It looked strong enough to endure his weight. Etang, who had been staring at the hook for a long time, shook his head. His mother in the Province awaited his return. Ill think about it after reporting to the central, Etang murmured as he took out the connection, heading to the reporting station. Staff chief, Team Ratel is requesting a retreat. Major Geofrey smirked at the message. Theres nothing different about the environment of their mission. Seems like Pauls turned into a coward, too. Theres no retreat. Tell them to continue the mission. Shouldnt we notify the higher-ups? Ill deal with it. Its an order. The mission continues. Well send the emergency helicopter immediately. Etang looked at Major Geofreys face, which looked as though it wouldnt bleed a drop of blood even when poked, in heavy silence. Major Geofrey was the immediate liaison in charge as the Ratel Teams strategist. He had been dispatched to the Deuxieme Reps headquarters as a member of the 11th airborne squadron. Does he have a noose around his neck as I do? Is there a rouge on my face? Ah, no. You send them my regards once the lines back in connection. Etang wasnt able to continue the conversation with Major Geofrey, who closed it with a knifes edge. I understand. Once Etang disappeared, Geofrey made an easy smile. Hmm, the raccoon is on the verge of escaping, but the badger wants to escape too? Thats not right. No, it should play with the hyenas for a bit longer. But how do I hide this from Colonel Philip? Geofrey, who had been looking into the details of the written communication, tilted his head. Is this Black Mamba guy some Rambo dude? Its all unbelievable. Its going to be irritating if this guy surviveswhat if he returns alive! No, I need a contingency plan. Geofrey took up the phone. The Captains face when he restarted the communications wasnt bright. C Alpha, its Bravo. C Bravo, I can hear you clearly. C Alpha, tell me the decision. C Bravo, theres no retreat. The mission continues. C What? Shibal Jotto! C Bravo, what does that mean? C Ah, nothing. He had sworn by instinct. He was the captain who had gotten more used to Black Mambas Korean swears than the French prostitute. He was swept with indecision about revealing the information about Makumbo and the concerns which followed. The Captains expression changed constantly. Ah, comrades, forgive me. He was a soldier. His subordinates were all soldiers. Whether they were baits or not, they were all a part of a mission. His teeth broke by the force of his grit, but he couldnt impair the entire mission. The mission had to be completed, even if he had to shoot at those involved when he returned. The Captain decided to bear the burden himself. C Alpha, understood. The coordinates are 216-342, along 70km west of Chicha and 12km west of Ongur Oasis. I want the helicopter at 0100. C Bravo, received. Im sorry. The Captain, after closing the line, called Black Mamba. Black, are you a sniper or a warrior? I dont understand the point of your question. Ive called the helicopter to move Chartres. When the information leaks, the enemy is going to attempt to shoot down the helicopter. I need you to shoot the enemy down. It was often said to fool your allies is to fool your enemies. The best result was when FROLINAT didnt interfere. On the other hand, if the information leaked, he planned to have the helicopter as a sacrifice. The Captain strengthened his weakening resolve and hid everything from Black Mamba. Moving Chartres? Okay. I dont care where the battle is. I should be ready for close-quarter combat if its to protect the helicopter and Chartres. The mountain ranges are more advantageous than an open field. Good. The Er Ekdim valley should be just right. He ordered the move immediately. There was no way the enemy could figure out their rendezvous point, but wariness closed in around him like chains. The coordinates the Captain sent the headquarters had been their camp the day before. It was a place 15km south-west of Tanga in Vilmas direction, 10km from their current camp. The Er Ekdim valley was a deep valley the size of a passing iceberg, in a large U shape. Chapter 59 - Episode 2: The Shadow of Betrayal When the information leaked, there was no way FROLINAT was simply going to sit back and watch. If there was a missile team in ambush at the coordinates he indicated, the leakage of information would gain definite evidence. The Captain didnt consider Chartress injury too seriously. Mercenaries lived rough lives. Others who whined about a few shrapnel embedded in their bodies were better off tending grapevines in the retirement village. In a large Romanesque mansion east of Undgar, in a region called Paya Largo, a large shout erupted from the second floors office. You bastard, go die! No, Ill kill you myself! Habib took out his handgun. At the receiving end of his bloodthirsty eyes was Colonel Ahmud, kneeled flat against the rug underneath him in a grovel. Both of his cheeks were inflamed red. A subordinate immediately blocked Habibs path. Your grace, please. Move, you s***! Ugh! Having been kicked in his groin, the subordinate jumped skittishly before tripping over Ahmuds feet by the rug. The subordinate scrambled to stand while holding his nose. Blood dripped onto the rug. Habib started at his subordinate with speechless eyes. Rage was an emotion. Emotions cooled over time. When the scene changed, his short-term memory similarly forgot things. Damn, this bastard! Habib threw down his gun. Ahmud, who managed to avoid death due to the subordinates slapstick comedy, raised his head minutely. He saw the subordinate who, upon eye contact, dissolved into a smile. I suppose this was what he was talking about when he told me not to worry. The subordinate had earned his pay. Ahmud had been beyond concerned after being defeated by Black Mamba. It was obvious he was going to be dead by the time he finished his report. Ahmud, who had a great sense of self-preservation, immediately bribed a large sum to Habibs direct subordinate and secretary. He also altered the previous reports before submission. Ahmud was certainly a man of instinct. Colonel Ahmud! Yes, Your Grace! Ahmud immediately stood at a salute. You f****** bastard, are you handing me this as your report? You managed to lose 57 sentries at Guradi Ridge, 142 members at Toko Toom where the information was handled, 100 at the command post300 members in total! And that FROLINAT bastard barely managed to catch 15? Does this make sense to you? G-grace, the bastards were a special mercenary force composed of 100 elite snipers. And? Did they shoot missiles and run you over with tanks? Did a tomcat begin carpet bombing; a destroyer begin shooting naval artillery? Habib began to make snide remarks once his mood calmed. Ahmud heaved a sigh of relief inwardly. He had lived thanks to the false reports. l ?awla wa l quwwata ?ill bi-llh (There is no might or power except with Allah). Grace, I swear I fought to my death. I was at the forefront of the battle and was the last to retreat. The bastards were more precise than missiles and more impulsive than tanks. I was able to make them retreat thanks to your wise guidance. Ahmud had sent a report which had no indication of his robbed base camp instead of reporting that he had managed to cause a retreat. Habib, who was a veteran of the battlefield, could read his mind clear as day. Ha, bulls***. Musta managed to f*** 200 into Uldi Hamarl, and youve fu**** up 300 into Bodele. Ive lost 500 precious warriors. Well done, you two, taking turns. You f***** up s****. Habib spoke with spit flying as anger rose once more. Grace, the bastard called Kanma is- Ack! Slap! The object Habib threw smacked Ahmuds face. It was the golden donkey which had been on his desk. Ironically, the statue which Ahmud threw at his subordinate had also been a donkey. The golden donkey, a symbol of wealth, had been degraded into an object of abuse. Ahmud didnt do a slapstick comedy like the subordinate. A skill which had already been used wasnt effective a second time. He gritted his teeth and remained unmoving. Shut up, how dare you mention the name of a worthless blackies ghost as a Colonel. Are you trying to mock me, or what? That, thats impossible, your grace, istisna (by the will of God), Im your servant. Ahmud tried his best in order to survive. This damned bastard! If you had captured them you would have gained Makumbo. How dare you blame a ghost when youve been chased around like a rabid dog, youve lost all your subordinates. As Habib calmed down, someone knocked on his door. Get in, Habib shouted roughly. The door opened, and a Lumumba tribes man, roughly 30 years of age, walked in. It was Habibs secretary. The secretary handed him a piece of paper politely. Habib, who took the paper as though he was snatching it, kicked Ahmud. Is this the guy? Ahmud, who took up the montage, stared at the paper intently. It was an Asian dude. He had thick eyebrows, a sharp nose, and deeply sunk eyes, as well as thin lips and a narrow face line to the point he couldnt be called a Kanma. In fact, he had a face that was more acceptable as Chairman Tombyes lover. How could such a man who possessed a womans feminine features be called Sahels Kanma, Azreal! Had he truly lost hundreds of subordinates at his hand, to the point of being chased around like a house dog? In the end, Ahmud shook his head. He had never seen Black Mambas face. He had been busy running for his life in both battles. At the command post, he had immediately taken shelter underground. Ha, obviously. I suppose you were too busy running away you didnt even see his face. You useless s***. Habib started to look around for his abandoned gun. Knock knock! The knocking sound rang at that dangerous time. Certainly, Ahmud had the survival instincts of a cockroach and better luck than others. What is it! An Arab Major walked in. It was Commander Payze of the surveillance unit, who had been led around the nose by Mike. Why is that bastard here? Ahmuds eyes glinted. Shuptari Allah! (Glory to Allah!) What is it? Habib shouted without receiving his greeting. Payze glanced at Ahmud and respectfully handed a piece of paper forward. Habibs face turned red as he read down the report. His hand shook the entire time. The Command post was abandoned, and only five survived! Habib gritted his teeth and glared at Ahmud. Ahmuds face blanched white. It was the part of the report he had left out in order to avoid Habibs rage. The situation had only turned worse due to Payze. Your, your grace, I had received an attack from heavy weapon artillery, of average size, from the special forces. I attempted to fight back with my life on the line~ Ahmud, a talented speaker, began to work his magic even in that moment. Shut up, secretary, put him in jail. The moment his subordinate pressed the bell, close guards in uniforms began to enter the room. G-grace, I am your servant and friend. Im your comrade who has fought many battles by your side for the past 30 years. Shut up, you swine! Thats why I didnt shoot you immediately. Drag him out. Your grace, your grace! Drag him out before I shoot him! Habib shouted. After Ahmud was dragged out, silence descended in the office. There was only the sound of Habibs harsh breathing. The star-shaped star on his forehead was trembling. When the scar which had healed in keloid moved, his forehead looked as though a fly had attached itself. Knock knock! The secretary returned and handed him an envelope. Habib opened the envelope himself. A rolled-up transmission fell out. [South-west Tanga 15km, coordinate 216-342 01hr, Helicopter] Habibs face immediately relaxed. This was highly classified information from the French NDjamena headquarters. You swine, if you survive this once more time Im going to drench myself in pig blood. Habib took up the phone. Secretary, how many MANPADS teams can we move immediately? There are four teams in the Ungat training grounds. Theres no time. Those fro guys are going to make contact with a helicopter. Its the best chance to get those damn fro guys and Makumbo in one stone. Call them immediately and send them to the Er Ekdim ravine. Yes, your grace. Major Payze! Yes, your grace. Make sure you arrive in Er Ekdim by midnight to prepare the ambush. Prepare gods magic and the machine guns, with plenty of grenades. This time for sure, were going to kill those fros and execute all the traitors. Do you understand? Yes, your grace. Payze finished his salute and ran out of the office. Habib frowned and began to pace his office. Damn, theres not enough time. Theres not enough time to call the Tombye army stationed in Pada. They wont arrive in time. That stupid Ahmud and Musta lost too much of my forces. I need to catch those fro bastards even with the loss of Makumbo. Habib ground his teeth and took up the phone once more. Closed in the idea of capturing Makumbo, he had taken a risky move. His plan to assassinate the entire mercenary crew at once after placing sufficient numbers had been ruined. He, who did not know Black Mambas presence, made the mistake of deploying his armies rashly. The Ratel team entered deep within the ravine and made camp with their backs to the cave. It was a strategic placement with a night bombing in mind. If they were targeted by a dot in an open space, there was no chance of survival. Ha, what are we doing! Sighs came automatically from the Captain. If he nitpicked the situation, he may as well have betrayed his fellow comrades. He could barely face them. There was no chaos like now, with untrustworthy headquarters, FROLINATS running after them like rabid dogs, and tired subordinates. Due to his perfectionist personality, he volunteered to go for another round of sentry. He hadnt changed the location of the helicopters landing despite knowing that the information would be leaked. He glanced at Black Mamba who stood there silently. Black Mamba was always in a stance of perfect defense whenever he saw him. He could bounce anywhere in that stance like a tennis ball. This time, he had planned the game with full trust in Black Mambas skills. The only hill to trust was Black Mamba. The Captain observed both sides of the cliffs with night goggles. The rock cliffs about 50 meters in height filled his foggy viewfinder. Both sides were rather steep at a 45-degree angle. Black Mamba, conceal yourself in the right cliff. Even if the helicopter is attacked, I need you to observe. As long as there are no threats to our team were leaving them alone. What the f****** hell are you talking about! If the helicopter goes down, Chartres move wont happen! Black Mamba denied vehemently. Black, I understand how you feel, but Im planning to return to the headquarters no matter how many times they deny the retreat. Then what do you think will happen? Well all be handed to martial court. We need definite proof as a cause to give up on the plan. Captain, youre going overboard, Black Mamba replied with worry mixed into his tone. I also hope this is a coincidence, but right now, I cant trust anything. We can always call another helicopter for Chartres. I am a Captain in charge of my subordinates. The Captain spoke solemnly. It was a sorry thing to the helicopters pilot, but the situation was beyond saving. The only member with a good condition was Black Mamba. Mike and Miguel, whose core temperatures (the temperature of the brain and organs) had fallen, were shivering all the way to their teeth. They werent sick, but the varying temperatures and low energy had caused the situation. It was the bodys rebellion against unsatisfactory rest and lengthened tension for longer periods of time. Emil and Jang Shin were the ones with a severe cold, while Mouris had a strong cough. To have a sniper who coughed frequentlythere was no other comedy than that. Bell Man made them sleep by giving them sleeping pills. Black Mamba looked at the Captain. The military uniform suited him, or rather, he was a man suited to the military uniform. He was someone with a unique pride for being the officer of Legion Etranger. Considering his thinning face and red eyes, he could assume the Captains emotions at the betrayal even when maintaining his position as the leader despite pressure from all sides. Understood. You should expect a beating is anything happens to Chartres. Black Mamba shook his fist in front of the Captains eyes and walked into the darkness. Damn bastard, hes threatening me. Ill die by the first punch! Captain murmured. Black Mamba became a chameleon. Using the yellow-brown drape as a cover, he immediately attached himself to the corner between rocks. A lizard climbed over Black Mamba with leisure. A desert fox peed on his thigh before walking away. Even the animals couldnt differentiate his presence when he was one with nature. The energy of all humanity drained out of him as Higasion Ganzis secret nature started to spread within him. He took a peek at the night sky. The nessie which had been dozing next to him jumped away, startled. The tail of the Big Dipper had tilted 10 degrees to the right. It had been two hours since he had concealed himself. It was currently 2300. There was a time counting curriculum in the sniper training regiment. It required the use of sun, moon, and stars. Black Mamba could predict the time fairly well without much margin of error even before he became a mercenary. Using his body rhythm and therefore his biological clock, he was able to see the flow of time rather well. Its a good thing theres no Nigerian ant biting my nose. Chapter 60 - Episode 3: The Shadow of Betrayal Rustle His sensitive ears picked up an intrusive sound. It was the sound of the ground being pressed on and swept across. Is it a humans footstep? Black Mamba heard the sound of footsteps 500 meters away like thunderclaps. Compared to the weight he felt, the sound was too small. From his senses, it was most likely a large animal, but the sound was more like a rodents. Yet, his instincts told him it was a humans. The numbers increased. The Sahel was a place with a low number of animals. There were no herds that ran around like the southern parts of Africa. Even the hyenas survived each to their own. There were no other animals except humans who roamed in numbers during nighttime. Were they specially trained? Black Mamba began to count their footsteps for 30 seconds. The average speed count of a human was 1.5~2 paces per second. By figuring out the number of footsteps within a second, the number of humans could be approximated. Of course, this was only possible for trained snipers. There were five in total. Following that, another two teams appeared. There were 15 people in total. They had appeared without a sound. It was as though they had sprouted from the ground. Ugh! He was surprised. It wasnt 500 meters, but rather 100 meters inward. It was his mistake to judge them according to an average standard. A moment later, the footsteps passed the place where Black Mamba was concealed. It was then that he realized the reason behind his miscalculation. They were all barefoot. They walked with their bare feet as though they were sliding across the ground without lifting it off. He had seen such footsteps before. It was the footsteps of the Lumumba tribes hunters. There was one bastard with a Strela-2 strung across him, another with a box of two missiles, and three bastards with a mini machine gun. They were all barefoot. The three with the mini machine gun worked as front covers in protection of the missile launcher. Their intentions were obvious. They planned to down the helicopter and, while doing so, decimate the special forces awaiting contact by the point. That also indicated a possibility of back-ups later on. A chill ran down his spine. The Captains worries had turned into reality. Regardless of the bait, this proved that there was a high officer in the headquarters leaking real-time information to the FROLINATs. Do they think weve rescued Makumbo? He questioned it, but there was nothing to confirm. Black Mamba lowered the volume of his headset to the lowest setting and knocked on it twice. A reply came immediately. He knocked once, loudly, and after a turn of silence knocked five times gently. It meant that there were 15 enemies. Then, he scratched the headset with his nail. It was a signal indicating a surface-to-air missile. The Captain, after receiving Black Mambas signals, silently assigned battle stations. Teams had come in pursuit of the helicopter. It was proof that information was being leaked constantly. That also meant more soldiers would come for the Ratel team. A moment later, the Captain received another signal from Black Mamba. This time, it was five long scratches. It meant 50. The Captain swallowed his sigh. He had wished otherwise, but it had happened. He had shoved the badgers head into the crocodiles mouth. He had shoved his subordinates into a field where ten lives couldnt save one of them. Black Mamba frowned. The footsteps continued. What the hell? Theres nothing to have here, so why do they keep coming! Another group was caught on his senses. There was a weight to their footsteps. It was the heavy weapons team. The footsteps continued. Strangely, they moved in fives or tens per unit. Ha! The Captain breathed in. Black Mamba had sent another signal. It was five long scratches and five short scratches. It meant that there was another 55 members added. One hundred and twenty in total had gathered at Er Ekdim. If they fought against them at their current strength no one would survive. The chances of surviving in the Zambezi river where the alligators crawled was higher than surviving in the battle against them. The Captain gave up on fighting. He was frustrated, but there was no chance against the guerrillas who had prepared themselves to the extreme. He had no choice but to believe in Black Mamba at this point. C Black, were going under. C Got it. Leave it to me. Black Mambas answer was always short and to the point. The group, which had entered the valley, scattered without a sound. They were well-trained. The natives who lived in the Sahel region rarely took off their shoes. If the FROLINATs had taken off their shoes in order to invade the valley in stealth, they had to be truly skilled. In the Borkou capital of northern Chad, Er Ekdim became covered in silent blood lust. At 0052, he could hear the motor of the helicopter from afar. It was on the dot. An Arospatiale Gazelle? Did they take ground attacks into consideration? It would be hard to arm due to the cruising range. He could tell it was the SA-342 Gazelle of the Frenchs main helicopters by the sound of the rotors. It had a ridiculous booster at the back of its head. Unlike its comic exterior, the Gazelle boasted a cruising range of 700km. From NDjamenas headquarters to Tanga at a direct line, the distance was exactly 700km. It would have attached two extra fuel tanks just in case. Gazelle was an attack helicopter developed by the Arospatiale in 1969. Aside from the pilot, one other person could board and be greatly agile. The Strela-2 was a first-generation target missile that used a non-delay fuse. Fifteen seconds after its launch, it self-destructed. If the Gazelle could distract the missile with its player, such as rollbacks and hooking of high-difficulty maneuvers, it had a high chance of surviving. Soon, the black dot could be seen against the moonlight. It increased in size quickly. Black Mamba felt his insides rot in nervousness. There were many teams equipped with the Strela-2 like vipers after a helicopter. They were specially trained forces. They were bastards who didnt wear shoes just to decrease the sound of their footsteps. Damn, the Captain said no attacks whatsoeverwhat to do? He could see the missile team spread out into a fan position and ready the launchers as clear as day. Black Mamba fought against his conflicts as he placed his finger on the Dragunovs trigger. The Captains words had been persuasive. That was why he couldnt pull the trigger rashly. It was a weak missile, but if several attacked at once, the Gazelle could be declared as good as dead. Bang! With a large sound, the light of the explosions flared into the air. It was 200 meters from where he hid. Orange flares lit streaks across the night sky. Following this, three more orange lights shot up into the air. The surface-to-air missile teams hadnt been three, but four. Another team had been waiting 1km away. Its the end, poor soul, leave your regrets behind and be happy in the afterlife! May luck be on your side! Black Mamba silently prayed for the pilots life. Even if the Strela was weak, four had been shot simultaneously. As for the Gazelle in the situation, there was nowhere to turn. A grand firework came to view 500 meters up in the air. It was the flare which had been raised from the back of the Gazelle. The 100 aluminum pieces which had been heated red made even the stars lose their shine. The flare was made out of magnesium, a hulk of heated metal. It worked as targets to lure missiles away from the helicopter, creating a similar wavelength as the helicopters. The Gazelle, which released the flare, began to descend rapidly. The first missile jumped into the flare and exploded. The helicopter, which had been increasing its height, descended as if it was falling. The second missile swept past the Gazelles nose and flew further away. Bang! The Gazelle threw down rockets onto the ground without holding back. It attempted to rise in the air directly once more. It was a well-tuned defense, but it was impossible to avoid all four missiles. The third missile landed and attached itself to the first frame of the tail rotor. The bullet, which was brought with strong kinetic energy, pierced through the metal without the sound of an explosion. The entire power source of the lower frame was crushed. The lights of the helicopter went out as one. From the navigation system to the chain gun, everything became useless. There was nothing to be fixed. The last missile was sucked into the engine. BANG! The Valley trembled. The helicopter, which was now a burning flame, crashed down into the valley. Black Mamba stared at the flabbergasting sight before him with his mouth open. BRR! The rotor blade began to increase in size. It was a 10.5-meter rotor blade which had detached itself from the body. The sound of it cutting through the air resounded on the ground. Ack! Black Mamba rolled further into the cliff in surprise. CRASH! The crash echoed. The rotor had embedded itself into the cliff like a dart would have. Phew, I was nearly f*****. Black Mamba broke out in cold sweat. If the rotor had moved at least a meter inward, he would have become a tuna on the cutting board. He began to understand the saying of how ones life was up to the heavens. Crash! Another large sound erupted. It was the sound of the helicopters body crashing into the face of the cliff. Crii-iiiiiiik! The sound of the helicopter descending the cliff as it scratched its surface was frightening. With another loud crashing sound, a thick banging resounded. It was the sound of the helicopter crashing into the earth, and its spare fuels erupting in flames in the next second. The valley lit up instantaneously. The poor pilot was burned to death without even attempting to escape. He was stuck in the metal frame. What, how, no way! Exclamations poured out of Jang Shins mouth. The mercenaries looked on at the ending of the Gizelle with gritted teeth. Those f******! Click! Mike placed his scope on his Dragunov. Mike, do you have a death wish? Go back in your hole, The Captain warned. The mercenaries froze at the Captains cold judgment. The Captains intentions were clear. He had held them back in case they were blamed for the scene. The helicopter had crashed in their meeting point because of the enemys missiles. It was indisputable evidence. The team members who understood the Captains intentions silenced their harsh breathing and went back into concealment. The situation was now in Black Mambas hands. Black Mambas face had stiffened. A strong fire began to rush up from his chest. Although he had never seen the pilot and their nationalities were different, they were fellow mercenaries. His comrade had burned to death trapped inside a metal cage right before his eyes. Chartres move had also crossed the Stynx. He silently raised his Dragunov. There was no way the bastards who gained the information would leave peacefully. He, too, had no intention of letting the enemies live peacefully. The half-moon that hung in the sky glinted elegantly. Its moonlight was too beautiful for murder. He took off his thick night goggles and shoved it in his haversack. Black Mambas pupils grew larger. The light which had reflected off the goggles surface glinted in blue light. The green world turned black and white. It was a humans eyes that stood equally against an owls. Two hundred meters was right before him. He could see the guerrillas who had shot down the Gazelle packing up their launcher as clearly. Hehe, I cant let you walk away that easily, no. Black Mamba created a chilling smile. He clicked a 30cm silencer onto his Dragunov. Although it was large, its silencing effect was as worse as the Pamuss silencer. It was just like an object made by those stupid Russians. He didnt use it often as he didnt like it. Since the battle at Uldi Hamarl, he had used a 3600J bullet all the time. Depleted uranium only strained his gun. In real battles, there were no chances to use such a bullet. As expected, reality and theory were vastly different. Black Mamba began to aim for the outside members so as to not alert the enemy. The first sacrifice was team four, the furthest team in their position. Distance 820m, wind north, north-east, speed 2.8m/s, temp 12C began to pass his brain instantly. Tap tap tap! Tap tap! It was the three-in-a-row sniping only Black Mamba was capable of. If the technique had to be named, it was a three-tap. He carried a sniping gun, not a handgun. To cause a three-tap with such a piece of equipment, only Black Mamba, who possessed strong and minute muscles and senses sharper than the tip of needles, could do so. The heads of three sentries with their machine guns blew away. Blue color splashed across his scope. The soldier who was packing up fell with blood spurting out of his chest, and the retriever gathering bullet shells had his head slipped off. The bullet immediately entered the second target. It was a missile team around 500 meters from him. There was no forgiveness from the Dragunov. He captured the third team in cold blood. In 48 seconds, he managed to down all three of the teams, 15 people in total. Chapter 61 - Episode 4: The Shadow of Betrayal Beep- Beep- Beep- A high-toned sound echoed around the valley. As if to receive the sound in return, beeping sounds rose from all over the place. It was the familiar, cheap sound of the FROLINATs headsets. Although they used cheap wind instruments as a method of communication, it was enough to alert others of a snipers presence. His targets, which had been out in the open, disappeared immediately. That f****** silencer! Black Mamba clicked his tongue. Too many targets had gone into hiding while he was shooting down the missile teams. The remaining Strela Team similarly went undercover. In the end, the useless silencer had mucked it up. A Dragunov had 105db in a gunshot. With a silencer, the sound went down to 70db. The suppressed sound increased in 10db with every noise it made. Average conversations were around 60db, and 70db was around ten times louder than the average conversation. It was approximately the sound of a 10-year reunion conversation between ten students. Unless the guerrillas were deaf, it was impossible that they couldnt have heard his gunshots. Even Black Mamba didnt have a way of suppressing sonic booms. Clack! Although there were three bullets remaining, he clicked in another cartridge without hesitation. Since they had all gone into hiding, he had no choice but to search for them. He opened his headset. C Black here. I avenged the Gazelle. C What are you planning to do? C Do you think theyll retreat with just the helicopter down? C Hm. The Captain couldnt continue. How could he ask him to go against 120 by his lonesome as the leader, while the team stood down! C Im going to catch rats. Have everyone standby. C Theyre not normal. Be careful. C Badger meat is thick. Whoever tries to bite it will have their teeth broken off. C Im sorry. C Nevermind that; if anything happens to Chartres youre dead. Turning off the headset, the Captain sighed. Bastard, to think hed threaten a leading officer when hes just a 2nd class Private! Fine, Ill take it gladly as long as you end this safely. The environment was harsh for him to lead his team members into battle, especially when they were at their lowest. The terrain demanded a strenuous rock mountain battle. Considering the enemies movements, they werent weak guerrillas. Rock mountains offered much cover and concealment. It was hard for the sniper to gain a target and to land a clean shot. Every condition was against them. According to Black Mambas report, there were 120 bastards. If the Ratel team attacked rashly, they were bound to be annihilated. Captain, are we going to keep our heads under the sand? Mike, with his anger issues, began to whisper. And if we dont? We need to wipe them out. The teams eyes glinted red. Mike, mind your own head. There are over a hundred footsoldiers who know the geography. Leave it to Black and go back to your corner. The words were sharp, unlike sergeant Pauls usual speech. Can Black handle it? Miguel asked worriedly. He would need to enter close combat anyway since this is a rocky region. Black moves without a trace, without sound. Blacks close-combat abilities are beyond his skills as a sniper. Theres no point in our intervention; wed only hinder his senses. Emil was the one to reply. As Black Mambas partner, there was no one who knew Black Mamba better than he. Hes right. Its my misjudgment. I didnt realize the bastards would flood this place. It seems like Habibs over his head. Theres no way but to trust Black as of now. At the leaders decision, everyone lowered their heads. He was called Azrael, but Black Mamba was the youngest of the team. Placed in a situation where they all stuck their heads under while the youngest stood against several opponents, they couldnt withstand the humiliation. The military force which had entered Er Ekdim was Habibs personal army and sentry led by Payze. They were the most elite forces of the FAP, having been trained by the dispatched North Korean trainers. If there had been more time Habib would have mobilized his entire northern army. The Captain had been surprised at the number, but the truth was that Habib had only been able to mobilize a tenth of his desired number. Habib, who didnt know Black Mambas existence, had only mobilized his immediate personal anti-air team and Payzes sentries. For Black Mamba, this was a fortunate event. Lieutenant Commander Payze was the commander of the reconnaissance team. He had been tracking the pick up headed towards Ekiya under Ahmuds orders but had failed. It was because Mike, as a veteran, had lured them to Ekiya only to turn back and head towards the helicopters meeting point. In some ways, Payze had been lucky. He had not run into Black Mamba. Watching Ahmuds purging Payze had sworn this battle to life or death. In observance of Habibs personality, if he won he was loyal, and if he lost he would be purged. Payze was determined to bury his bones in the valley. Black Mamba shoved his Dragunov underneath a rock. With the silencer on the Dragunov, the weapon was almost two meters long. Although it could be used for close combat, it was bothersome to carry. That damned sound, I should change it into a MP or something, he complained as he twisted the silencer around his Pamus. Even the Pamus had a problem with its silencer. The sound of a Pamuss bullet speed was 2.5 times to speed of sound. Even if the silencer sustained the explosion, the problem was the sonic boom. The sonic boom was the sound of air exploding around an escaping bullet from its muzzle. Even silencers had their limits. The sound of a small explosion wasnt insignificant during night battles. A MP5 had a subsonic bullet. Its sonic boom was far weaker. As Black Mamba required covert activities, the MP5 was more advantageous than the Pamus. The MP5, at 668mm in parts, was also easy to carry around. Black Mamba was a sniper of a different class who didnt refuse close-combat. Although the range had decreased 200 meters and there was an additional loss of precision, it wasnt much of a problem. For long-range he had the Dragunov, and the precision was something he could cover with his physicals and senses. Read more chapter on v ip novel. com A talented carpenter didnt mind his tools, but a talented mercenary nitpicked each weapon. A carpenter didnt have a risk of death even if the wood was sawed with a dull blade. On the other hand, if a mercenary used a low-quality weapon or a weapon unsuited for it, death was a high possibility. Black Mamba took out the Dragunovs magazine from the duty pouch. He shoved in five 30-bullet magazines and three 17-bullet Glocks into the pouch. Checking his Kukri in his leg stripe attached to the belt, he unlocked the safety of his Glock on the other holster. Finally, he checked the Glock which was on his calf. Close combat was an entirely different matter from sniping. He could feel several flows. There were different flows of air that climbed up and down the surface of the cliff: the flows of the living creatures breath, the flow of the guerrillas bloodlust, and the hide-and-seek between the animals climbing the cliffside with the lizards which peeked in and out of crevices. Black Mamba began to erase each one of natures flow and natures energy one by one. Now, there were only 70 presences left in his range. The counted enemy was 120. He had cleared 15, and there were 105 remaining. That meant 35 was outside of his sensing range. His first target was the Strela team of five who he hadnt been able to catch with his Dragunov. They were those who had been specially trained. They were the highest threat against his team. Click! A small sound rang from his first targets position. It was the sound of a twisting safety pin of a handgun. The sound had been smaller than the sound of water dripping, but it sounded like a thunderclap in his ears. The distance was 180 meters, closer than he thought. Black Mamba, under the cover of his camouflage, angled his body around the rock towards the enemy. The sight of him hugging the rock as he turned resembled a lizard. The Er Ekdim valley of Tanga was used as the FROLINATs training grounds. It was like their front yard. The trench in which Black Mamba targeted was made of naturally weathered conglomerate blocked on three sides. Five soldiers were nervously staring at the darkness. It was Air Defence Team 3 of FROLINATs 3rd Guard. Stupid idiot, werent you taught to cover the safety pin with your clothes before you turn it? A tall Slavic man began to scold the Arab in a whisper. It was the Northern FAPs unconventional warfare officer Rubnenco. Rubnenco, a white Russian, began as a Yadboy, or a conscript, and rose through the ranks to become a Spetznatz deployed as First Lieutenant Sceda. Adiran, adiran! The Arab who had been scolded nodded away. Shh! Rubnenco immediately reached for his night goggles and listened. He could hear a sound similar to a puppys sneeze. It was the sound which rang when a cough was suppressed as much as possible. It was such a small sound that even Rubnenco, with his high senses, barely caught it. The sound of Jang Shins cough, which Bell Man had suppressed with sleeping pills, had been caught on Rubnencos radar. The small sound had brought about a crisis. An eerie smile appeared on the Slavs face. Shoot, right 170mthe rock which looks like an upside-down triangle is a target. The supporting sniper, a gandourah-wearing Arab, immediately began to load his RPG shooter. Rubnenco took off his night goggles and handed it to the RPG shooter. The shooter marked his aim and shoved his eye into the scope. A bloodthirsty smile appeared on Black Mambas face. The place which the bastard was aiming with his magic wand was the place his comrades were hiding. He found it humorous that a person who was already being trailed by death was attempting to kill someone else. The sparrow ate the mantis, which was after the grasshopper. Splat! The shooter who had been readying his stance to launch the RPG suddenly collapsed without a sound. Uk! At that moment, Rubnenco flung his body within the trench as though he was diving. It was a fast reflex; even Black Mamba was surprised. Hey, hurry up and shoot. The junior staff shook his friends shoulder, ignorant of what had happened. اߧ, ߧѧ֧ۧܧѧ ֧ݧҧ! (Careful, sniper shoot!) Rubnenco whisked the junior staffs leg down. Rubnenco had already plastered himself onto the ground, but it was too late. Pat pat pat! The angel of death raised its dark brush and crossed four names of the Lumumba tribes men off the list. The Strelas junior staff and its two guards crashed into the ground. To those who had just finished preparations, the attack was lightning on a clear day. They hadnt been able to shoot even once. That was the fearsome aspect of snipers. Its the bastard! Officer Rubnenco felt chills going down his back. He unknowingly rubbed the top of his head. A new line had appeared across his hair. The smell of hair burning reached his nose. It was the mark of a bullet which had just brushed his head. It was truly a minimal chance. He had lived due to his innate ability to sense danger. The bastard, Rubnenco, suddenly recalled the rumor which floated around Sahel like a spell. The bastard who could shoot an eyeball 1km away, annihilate a mere company in a minute, throw a rock and blow up a persons head 300 meters away, who enjoyed slicing the neck, and who drank the commanders liver as a side dishthe bastard of all those rumors had shown up. And he had shown that the rumors were true with the three-in-a-row sniping. Immediate sniping and continuous sniping was a skill told as legends in the sniping world. There was an instance in which instant shots within three seconds was proved a white death by Polands Simo Hayha. The continuous sniping using the guns throwback known as double-tap was left an untouched region in their world. He had studied, in the Spetznatz skills the method behind continuous and instant sniping for ten years. In the end, he had concluded that it was an impossible feat for the human body. Rubnenco stared at the RPG launcher on the ground with a regretful gaze. He calculated the kanmas position from the bullets trajectory. He slowly hooked his foot on the launchers stand. He pulled the launcher to him by folding his knees. Tap! Rubnenco hurriedly straightened his knees. The bullet bounced off the RPGs frame and dug itself into the trenchs floor. The pool of blood that had filled the trench splashed. Ugh, that ghostly bastard! Rubnenco shivered. The bullet had been shot the moment he had moved his leg. The other was an extremely sensitive enemy. Chapter 62 - Chpter 10, Episode 5: The Shadow of Betrayal Rubnenco lowered his body as if to dig into the bottom of the trench. The only way to survive such a fearsome guy was by not revealing himself. The moment his fingertips were revealed, they would be blown away by the bullet. The enemy was an amazing bastard, but he had no intention of going down without a fight. One of the most important parts of the Spetsnaz curriculum was overcoming and blocking fear. If the bastard was a kanma, he was an eschubiaste, one of the elite members of Spetsnaz. Yi alo alo! Rubnenco hollered. It was to distract the snipers concentration and lure the attacks of his allied soldiers. That f****** Russian bastard, whys he shouting! Black Mamba was annoyed. As he was in Legion Etranger, he could understand a few words of several languages. He knew that alo in Russian referred to an enemy. He understood what the enemy was aiming for. The Russian had an amazing sense of danger. He was the first person he had missed on the first shot. Even his actions were annoying. From both right and left, bullets poured in from everywhere. Spare flints of rocks and wood began flying around. Black Mamba left the scene as though his body had been swept away. He climbed the surface of rocks like a squirrel and concealed himself. Rubnenco, who earned his chance, grabbed the RPG launcher. ****! The front of the RPG in which the force was triggered was crushed. It was the result of that kanmas sniping. If he had aimed for this situation, it would have been unbelievable. In that case, he would have been some insect with special feelers or a snake with a Jacobsen sense. The enemy was fearsome, but he, too, had special sensory abilities. There was nothing to fear. The bastard must have climbed over the rock. He would have crawled right towards the bushes. Ha, hows he that fast?! Rubnenco was shocked while estimating the distance. Thirty meters inwards, the bastard suddenly appeared right before his nose. The cliffs steepness was around 45 degrees. The bastard had closed in 100 meters in that steepness in 6~7 seconds. On top of that, his presence was starting to disappear. That wont do. Have a taste of this. He moved his arms several times while pressing his body into the trench and threw the grenade over. Ugh, this ******! Black Mamba, who had been starting to become one with nature, panicked at the incoming grenade. He could tell the enemys plan immediately. If he jumped out, he would be sniped on all fronts by the northern army. He calculated the trajectory of the grenade as soon as it was thrown. His left leg shot up in his crouched position. Tap! His heel kicked the falling grenade precisely. It was one of his hundred reflexes. The grenade shot forward at a speed much faster than when it had first been thrown. Bang! The shards of the grenade, which had exploded mid-air, fell everywhere. It was a moments difference. After watching that young soldiers sacrificial explosion, he detested grenades. Aaack! A guard who had been in hiding received the fore impact of the grenades explosion. Wow, a self-suicide. Black Mambas mouth lifted into a smile. To Black Mamba, the FROLINATs were evil. Tatatatata-tututu! Gunshots rang at the point of the grenades explosion. Black Mamba used that moment to escape from the bushes. The opponent was a trained soldier he had never met before. If the opponent made a trace shot with the RPG, then even he would find it hard to escape. Crack! Condensed muscle gave him an extra boost. The dust on the ground rose up. His body, which had been propelled forward, shot up like a cannon. The place he appeared in a flash was in the trench Rubnenco had hidden in. A black shadow fell from the sky. Ahhh! Rubnenco, surprised out of his wits, hurriedly pulled out his bayonet. By the time he could interpret the kanmas movements, he was already within the bastards shadow. Schink! The sound of two metals clashing rang out, enough to paralyze the ears. Kuh! A grunt escaped Rubnencos mouth. He had instinctively blocked the Kukri which was about to slice through his body diagonally. The astounding degree of the attack caused his NR2 bayonet to spring out. His chest was open. Rubnenco, who felt the danger immediately, leaned back and kicked his left foot upwards. It was to launch the dart hidden on the right side of his chest. Crack! Agh! Bang! At the sound of bones breaking there was a shout with the simultaneous sound of metal digging into skin. Black Mambas face creased into a frown. The moment he blocked the Russians kick, a metal dart had shot out of his chest. Even Black Mamba couldnt do anything about a dart that was shot from a meters distance. He protected his organs by immediately hardening his chest muscles. Rubnenco wasnt going down easily, either. His central bones had broken into pieces, but he attempted to butt heads by bouncing his upper body back up. He recalled the survival instincts he had created during the eschubiaste graduation test by sticking an awl through his cheeks. Dirty bastard! Black Mambas body covered Rubnencos, which returned to its position like a tumbling toy. Tup! When the attack punched straight for the middle of his chest, Rubnencos chest visibly deflated. The fist shattered his ribs and lodged itself deep within. Rubnencos eyes widened. Youyou scary bastard, Ill wait for you on the other side! Blood began to pour out of Rubnencos body as soon as he finished his words. The constricted lungs began to turn the flow of blood. When the 2-meter man fell to the ground, the blood sloshed around him. The best warrior of Spetsnaz, the strongest who had defeated 30 members of the USAFFE in a bar fight, eschubiaste Rubnencos name was erased from the Azraels death list. Even if some were strong, none could go against Hades. F****** bastard! Wait? Wait, what? Black Mamba complained as he pulled out the dart from his chest. The dart hadnt been able to pass the thickness of his muscles and had embedded itself a finger deep. The darts metal shone blue underneath the moonlight. The dart looked similar to the needle he used to sew his straw basket when he was younger with holes scattered around its tip. He could see a thin rifling hanging around the Russians neck. He could guess what had happened. The dart had been shot when the bastard threw back his head. It was a fatal attack that would have worked, even if he had known. Seeing that there were holes in the dart, he knew that it was poisonous. He had heard that Russians used several assassination techniques, but now that he was on the receiving end, he knew it was true. It was dirty, but he couldnt curse them. The person defeated was the weaker person. The poison began to spread. His eyes blurred, and he felt faint. If it was to the point it could poison him; the poison was several times stronger than the poison of a viper. He could tell why the Russian had said he would wait on the other side. Black Mamba sat down in the trench and made himself comfortable. He pulled out his inner energy. The resonance which started from below his stomach began to shake throughout his body. His body trembled. Black blood began to trickle out of the hole in his chest. Black Mamba opened his closed eyes. The bloodlust which surrounded him on all sides closed in; this was just the beginning. Some poison remained, but he couldnt leisurely bide for time. Those who want to die need to die. Black Mambas eyes turned into one of a crazed predator. The Paranthropus within him awakened. Thoughts of killing the enemy, decimating them, bounced around his head. He ripped Rubnencos clothes and wiped the blood across his face. Evil ran towards him from all sides, but there was a calmness to Black Mambas movements. A black shadow jumped out of the trench. Tutututu! Bullets poured in like the rain from the other side of the valley. The black shadow kicked against the surface of the cliff like a lizard. The bullets werent able to chase after the shadow. The shadow turned around a rock like a rivers stream and disappeared. It was as though a ghost had floated. The title match with death as their guarantee began. It was the deathmatch of 100 FAP elite scouts against Legion Etrangers legendary Black Mamba. The cost was, obviously, death. A dark orange ray of light shot up from the right. It was the flame of the RPG7 which the Arabs called a magic wand. Black Mamba pulled his body out by using the Four Paced Movement. An explosion followed his back. The largest death ranged of an RPG warhead was 35 meters. It couldnt be compared to a 10~15 meter hand grenade. Black Mamba, who had been done in by grenades several times, found explosions traumatic. S***, theyre not normal. There was a skilled enemy somewhere. Another shot of RPG followed the direction he had ran to. Splat! At the strong impact, stones and sand rose up. Black Mamba, who was about to cross another 15 meters with his Four Paced Movement, flung himself backward like an illusion. His muscles, which had enough pressure to break a bulls legs, withstood the impact. Black Mamba used Fearless Steps and moved 30 meters out of range. The black shadow slithered underneath the nearest acacia tree. The adult warheads sound-wave of the RPG, which looked like a pencil, moved at 120 meters per second. When the targets range was around 300 meters, for example, the light flashed once and the sound rang one second later. The warhead made contact exactly three seconds later. That meant the RPG shooter was around 400 meters from where he stood. The two sentry members who had shot the RPG stared at each other with blank eyes. Ababs, is that a human? How does a human fly? Youre right. Its not human if it can avoid the magic wand continuously. Hes the kanma. Kanma! The guerrillas faces turned pale. Were dead. Should we flee? You idiot, do you want to be the hyenas dinner? The reaper had already approached while they were bickering. Black Mamba took out his hand grenade from his belt pouch. He had prepared two just in case. In, out, out, out. In, out, out, out. He brought out his energy by using single beat breathing techniques. The resonating waves which had flowed out of him started to break apart. It was the poison. His circulation wasnt running smoothly. Using his unstable senses, he estimated the point of explosion. The moment he unpinned the grenade, he threw it down with a sidearm. Zing! The grenade, which sped across the air with the wound of a wire rope, exploded three seconds after its throw. Its flight time had been calculated. Who would have imagined a person throwing grenades 400 meters away! Tu! He ran into hiding without checking the results. If the enemy hadnt died by the mid-air explosion, the enemy would have sought shelter underneath the rocks. Bullets landed in the place Black Mamba left moments prior. Black Mamba raced out of his concealment as though he was avoiding a mass shooting from artillerymen. The battle was harsh even for him. His poisoned body didnt move as it normally did. He barely maintained the 30 meters of wavelength. His harsh breathing disrupted his attempt to become one with nature. He was about to die trying to face off against so many with unstable conditions. When he attacked, retaliation was certain. The RPG and grenade attacks that came to him at random were similarly annoying. The annoying bastards had at least 15 RPGs, several machine guns, and a mountain of grenades. The Fearless steps Light paces, Four Paced Movement, and Hundred Turns were all techniques which placed a strain on his body. His strength started to drain rapidly. When his resonance wavered, it became harder to grasp the enemys position. FRONLIATs strategic position was also detailed. It was the three-way ambush he had seen in a military book called 100 Battle Strategies. Three teams created a triangular formation. It was to support and aid the other two teams which lay in a 60-degree angle. In the three-way ambush, if one team was attacked, the other two could immediately attack in aid. By binding three-way ambushes together, it became a ten-way ambush. By binding several ten-way ambushes, it became an inescapable heavens net. The most advantageous aspect was how everyone within the formation was bound together like military ants in order to maintain the upper hand. In Black Mambas position, he was being attacked as much as he was attacking. It was a situation in which Black Mamba had to die or the entire Habibs trained scouts had to die. The battle wasnt easy, even for the legendary Black Mamba. A pressure pointed into the left side of his temple as though the eraser on a pencil tip was digging in. Flash! He could see the dark orange flash. Ugh, that annoying Allah stick! Black Mamba threw his body to the side with his trembling legs. He couldnt even estimate how many RPGs the enemy had. Chapter 63 - Episode 6: The Shadow of Betrayal Crash! The rock which he had been hiding in exploded. The OG7 warhead of RPG7 reached 125 thousand J in the explosion. Its impact could shatter most rocks, and the aftershock blew away the remnants. Lax concealment could only result in exploding alongside the rocks and trees. Escaping was the best way. Black Mamba, who had extracted his body, hid between two boulders he had targeted. The FROLINAT soldiers lived up to their name as guerrillas and hid very well. Their point of concealment was between a zig-zagged crevice between the surface of the cliff two meters from the ground. It was a place no one would have found if it werent Black Mamba. Of course, the location couldnt be targeted by a sniper. Tututu! Even if they hid well, there was no way to block the bullets coming from overhead. Three people ended up with holes in their heads, and the darts he threw upon landing dug into two others throats. It was hard to go against an enemy who knew the terrain very well. He could sweep away guerrillas who ran about in deserted lands like sweeping with a broom. Here, he had to find them as though he was looking for mice hiding in their holes. It required even more time and effort. Black Mambas body, which had cleared five guerrillas, swayed on the spot. His ears rang. It was the result of continuous exposure to poison and explosion. His gravity suddenly weighed two times its average. He felt as though he had tied a trucks tire around his waist. That damned Russian! Suddenly, anger rose from within. He wished to check the shooting mechanism which had been on the bastards chest. Although the injury was small, the poison gnawed away at his vitality continuously. Of course, any average human would have long since crossed the Styx. Black Mamba rubbed his body between the corpses. This was to guise himself as one of the corpses to take a breather. Although it lacked finesse, there was nothing good in pushing himself. There was still time for the moon to set, and there were still many he had to kill. The guerrilla he had plastered himself to made gargling noises. It was the guerrilla with the dart in his neck. The fact that he had not died also meant his own stamina had decreased. It was a problem. He grabbed the handle of the dart and twisted the neck in a circle. The lungs which had been grasping for air quietened. This was the land of barbarism. His throat burned as though it was on fire. His larynx and esophagus felt as though it was cracking. Mucus caught on his throat like a COPD patient. He had been told that his throat would turn dry if he was poisoned, and he now realized it was true. He had grown an immunity against poison as his body underwent changes, but his violent movements had sped up the poisons circulation. Poison was a substance the body rejected and rebelled against. Even an overdosage of Solanine and Chaconine in a potatos skin could destroy red blood cells and paralyze the motor neurons. If the bodys resistance was stronger than the poison, the poison wasnt effective any longer. Black Mamba sat in a meditative position. The time given by the enemys loss of sight was golden to him. He raised his energy, calming his flipping insides. The flow which dropped off abruptly cost him his concentration from time to time. The moment he circulated his energy, he could feel the poisons location in his blood. His blood and poison were boiling against each other. The poison was destroying blood cells, and to counter that, his marrows were creating even more blood. He slowly raised the waves within his body and pushed it towards his blood veins as though he was pushing a net. The moment he pushed in the pulse, all the foreign substances gathered in one place. He pushed the contaminated blood towards the injury on his chest. His injury had already scabbed. It was one of the many advantages of a Paranthropus. The recovery speed was several times faster than a normal humans. He opened the injury once more in a cross shape. The blood which poured out of him smelled sour. The blood flow stopped. It was in times like these that his fast recovery speed became a problem. He ripped open his injury again with his knife and bled out once more. The expression as he did so was no different than the times he peeled away apple skins. Tsk! Black Mamba, who pulled out the water flask from his bag, clicked his tongue. The bottom had been holed by a bullet. He threw the flask away and rummaged the corpses. There was not a single bastard with a water bottle. The only way to gain water was through the corpses. Black Mamba stared at the corpses. He couldnt see them as anything more than protein. He raised his Kukri and sent out a resonance. It wasnt visible to the eye, but the blade trembled. He aligned the blade to the flasks neck and sliced it. The aluminum fell apart helplessly. The sliced surface shone like a glass ball. Yes, Im the kanma. Ill be the animal before being a human. Black Mamba made a determined face before slicing the corpses carotid with his Kukri. His expression as he received the flowing blood in his flask was pale as though it had been painted white. The color of the corpse and the color of Black Mambas face was no different from one another. Black Mamba, who was about to bring the flask of blood to his mouth, threw his knife behind him. Keek! A sharp scream sounded. A large bird with a knife in its body twitched on the ground. On its head was a protruding bone, and on its grey feathers was a white dot. It was a guinea fowl. It lived mainly in Tibesti, and there were many in the empty Sahel regions south of Tibesti. The curious bird had seen its end while peeking about. Black Mamba grabbed the birds neck like lightning and sprinted out of his position. The guinea fowls scream brought about gunshots. RPG launches and bullets rained down on the position he had been in. Black Mamba crawled between two rocks as though he was a disk. The poor guinea fowls neck was sliced. Blood poured out like a fountain. He closed his mouth around the birds neck and sucked. It was larger than a duck. There was enough in quantity. Burp. When fresh blood went in, his parched throat opened up. His body condition recovered with the loss of his thirst and dizziness. A figure with blood across its mouth like a cat after dining pulled out from between the rocks. With a bloodied body, fresh blood running down his mouth, and blood dripping down his knife, it was as though the kanma had truly resurrected. Ha! Black Mamba smiled bitterly at his state. Who could call him a human now? He lifted his head and searched the sky. The moon had tilted slightly towards the west. It had been two hours since the battle had begun. His bullet use was much more constant compared to the average user. He had one Dragunov magazine, two Pamus magazines, and two Glock magazines. A smile twisted around his bloodied mouth. Now that he had escaped his poisoned state, there was nothing to fear. He had cleared eight teams, a total of 40 people. There were still others who had to greet Allah. Black Mambas attacks became fierce. Pat! Black Mamba lifted himself off the ground with a strong kick and bounced out once more after using the acacia tree branch as leverage. Using the rebound of the branch, he moved 20 meters like a bird in flight. Black Mamba, who had closed in 30 meters in an instant, landed on a boulder as light as a feather. It was a tall granite boulder around 40 meters tall. Due to the overhang 20 meters below him, he couldnt see the guerrillas in hiding. They, too, were tense. If he jumped down the rock he was bound to be turned into a beehive. Black Mamba struck a mantling position with his head placed below. Mantling was a cliff climbing technique that required grasping ahold with hands to push ones body up by force. The reverse mantling left the head pointing downwards, climbing down and maintaining the bodys balance with hands-on holds. It was an impossible descent position with a humans body. Black Mamba left his bodys balance to his lower body and began to descend with his body plastered against the cliff like a spider. The moment he passed the overhang, he could see the guerrillas disguised in their ghillie suits clearly. Black Mamba clung to a hold with one hand and dangled in the air. He broke open his Pamus the moment he released his grasp, while falling. Pupupu! Three guerrilla heads exploded even before he reached the ground. In a moment of a humans fall in gravity, the falling speed was around 50 meters per second. In a 20 meter height, it took 0.5 seconds to reach the ground. Even the great Black Mamba couldnt shoot in a row in such a situation. The soldier who had withstood the bullets by twisting his body opened his eyes. A large figure appeared right in front. Crack! A strange, destructive sound resonated. It was the sound of a head being caved in by a boot. Ka, Kanma, Kanma! The remaining guerrilla stuttered with his mouth wide open. Black Mamba whirled around towards him. the surprised guerrilla threw his gun away and lifted his hands. Black Mambas right hand twitched. Splat! The unforgiving dart embedded itself deeply into his forehead. The guerrilla died with fear still displayed across his eyes. Black Mamba disappeared. It had truly been a cold-blooded whirlwind. RPG and bullets poured down on the place Black Mamba had just been. The five corpses were torn into unrecognizable pieces. It was relentless targeting. It was Paynes determination to catch the Kanma no matter the sacrifice. The battle continued in a similar pattern. Black Mamba swept over the scouting units, the protecting units poured in their gunfire, and Black Mamba appeared at another scouting unit. Black Mamba was using his technique of becoming one with nature. The guerrillas unknowingly allowed the reaper to approach and were defeated without resistance. Payze, leader of the scouts, gritted his teeth. The bastard who had been attacked with an RPG had flown away like a bird. It was fast to the point that even their Dynamic Visual Acuity couldnt keep up. Hes truly the Kanma! Not even pre-made counter plans worked. The bastard appeared like the shadows and disappeared like the dust. There was no way to catch him, even by launching RPGs and mortars. Beep Beep Beeeeep! Payze blew on his whistle twice shortly, and once long. It was the signal to commit suicide attacks. The scouts each loaded their grenades. Hell, they have no imagination at all. Black Mamba, who had just wiped out another small unit of sentries, began to complain. Toys that were covered in mud darted out of the ground. They had used their brains and laid traps beforehand. When the guerrillas ran forward, the dry mud started to fall. The bayonet and knife flashed in the moonlight. Slither Black Mambas body flashed everywhere. No, the kukri flashed in the moonlight. A blade of tremendous strength and momentum sliced the fragile humans neck and chest without hesitation. The Paranthropus killing instinct exploded. The Kukri passed over the necks of two other men before the sliced heads rolled to the ground. The heavy 1.2 kg Kukri sliced off the cervical spine and muscles without resistance. The guerrillas who had been shooting left and right soon lost their necks or had their temple caved in by the Kukris handle. The kukri, which had swung to the right as though it was ignoring the laws of forces, appeared out the other side. Even with a long sword, a humans neck wasnt easy to cut. The Joseon Dynasty had to strike a sinners neck several times with a heavy knife. There were records of sinners family bribing officials for a clean cut. The guerrillas body moved forward a few steps due to inertia before falling to the ground. He fell in the exact position he had swung the bayonet forward. It ended in a horrible scene. The guerrilla who had run at him from behind with a large sword had his neck broken with a crack by blunt force. His movements clearing the five guerrillas had flown like water. Bang! Bang! Tatata! Self-destructive grenades went off, and the other two corners of the three-way ambush began to shoot assisting bullets. Black Mamba kicked against the ground and flung his arms open, flying down like a bird, and landed underneath the cliff. It was Flying Display often found in martial arts. Black Mambas instant transportation speed was overwhelming and was capable of moving 15 meters in an instant if combined with the Four Paced Movement. The bullets and grenades only turned the flints of rocks and pieces of wood loudly. The length of one side of the three-way ambush was 12 meters. Black Mamba pinpointed the back of a units position with a single movement. The reaper landed lightly on top of the boulder which the scouts were using as cover. The guerrillas who had been shooting meaninglessly before them had bullets lodged in the back of their heads. Five names were erased from Azraels list in an instant. Black Mamba usually destroyed the brains or sliced the necks in close combat. Payze had ordered a suicide attack, but there was no point. A person who had their nerves cut instantly couldnt explode while dead. Even the guerrillas who had self-exploded didnt gain anything. When they were on the verge of exploding, their brainwaves turned stronger. Their blood flow rushed raster. Black Mambas sensitive senses and wavelengths saw beyond the norm. By the time they had exploded, Black Mamba had long escaped the place using the Four Paced Movement. It resulted in the decreasing energy of the attackers. Black Mamba didnt rush. He approached soundlessly and sliced the neck or broke the spine like a snake. He threw a rock first to lure shots before attacking. He was one with the tree before lodging a bullet on the back of their heads. Chapter 64 - Episode 7: The Shadow of Betrayal His dart shot pebbles which crushed their heads and killed them by dropping large rocks on top of them Once something was held in Black Mambas hand, it was an assassination tool, a fatal weapon. Blended with the darkness, he was no different from the kanma. A boring battle lasting over four hours continued. The battle between the FAPs scout teams and Black Mamba which had begun at one in the morning lasted until daybreak began hazily over the sky. A bloodied figure of a human appeared behind the machine gunners camp. A strong hand grabbed the riflemans neck, who had been watching the clearing. Crack! The cervical spine and occipital shattered with pure pressure. A palm slapped against another riflemans chest in passing. The sound of chest bones cracking rang out. Damn, Im tired. The enemy had been immobilized, but he hadnt been able to kill him. The machine gunner twisted his head the moment he realized something was wrong, just as he raised his Kukri. His eyes zeroed on the sight of a bloodied devil rising against the moonlight. The smell of blood rushed from the devil before his nose. Ka, kanma! The machine gunner felt his logic fail him. Before his brain could react, the blade glinted against the moonlight. The kukri sliced the neck as though it was butter. Kuk! A red line appeared on the riflemans neck. Huya! The junior staff pulled out his short sword with a strange shout. Clang! The junior staff had barely touched his short swords handle. The kukri which had just passed the riflemans neck twisted around following the elbows movement. It was the Crane Wings movement, in the theory of a crane hitting the eagle with its wings. The junior staffs head, which had been attacked at the temple, crumpled inward. It was then that the others neck fell off. The riflemans headless body and the junior staffs smashed head hit the ground simultaneously. The eyes of the chest-smashed rifleman widened incredibly. His face turned pale like paper. He had seen the kanma rumored to drink human blood and eat their flesh. Agh, ka, kanma! The moment Black Mamba turned around, he frothed in his mouth and fell backward. Huh, he died himself! He had been preparing to deal the final blow, which made him smile in incomprehension. The riflemans heart hadnt been able to deal with the fear on top of its injuries, hence it had ceased to beat. The machine-gunners camp was covered in red blood. A grenade, still pinned, rolled out of the junior staffs chest. He hadnt been able to use it. As Black Mamba grabbed the grenade, with a flash, darkness cracked apart on the other side. That f****** Allah wand! With the flare, Black Mamba immediately kicked against the ground. Bang! The warhead decimated the three corpses in blood. Ack! Black Mamba was swayed like a falling leaf in the explosions impact. His muscles which surpassed abnormality had grown tired in the long strenuous hours. His LTHR had reached the limit, making his muscles unable to exert the full output. Black Mamba, who had been thrown onto the ground, rolled a few ways before finally stopping. He had been battered by stones and pierced by wood splinters. His consciousness wavered. His minds resonance had grown in the time he had fought the life-or-death battle. He hadnt landed a severe injury as he had landed with the flow of the resonances waves, not against. Ya ilahi, la- astati-wu- an usaldikah! Taswa kanma. (By Allah, I cant believe it. Ive gotten the kanma.) Black Mamba stood, battered. He could see a guerrilla who was dancing with his hands in the air. He was but 70 meters away. The kanma of their religion didnt die. The guerrilla who had fired the RPG at close range opened his mouth as wide as a lantern. Ka, ka, ka, kanma! The human had just been shot by an RPG. The guerrilla looked scared out of his wits. Despite having a handgun by his side he panicked, trying to shove another warhead into the launcher. An RPG didnt launch if the warhead and launcher werent aligned to their degree. It was, in a sense, a safety measure. Black Mamba regained his equilibrium. The guerrillas hand shook like a twig under the glare of the devil, his soul escaping him. It was to the point his shivering form looked pitiful. Goodbye. Although I dont know whether Allah would accept a speck of dirt like you. The dark object which sped through the air punctured the guerrillas lungs and went out the other end. It was the Soviet grenade Black Mamba threw without even activating. He was out of bullets and darts. The grenade he had just thrown like a rock was the last weapon. Lieutenant commander Payze, once the tyrant of Sahel and commander of the scouts, died by a grenade. If Payze had been in his right mind, he could have shot Black Mamba, who had lost his footing with his gun. Only the strongest survive. There was no if in the battlefield. With the death of Payze, the explosions and gunshots of Er Ekdim stopped. The black valley with its grey fog had turned into the Gehenna, or Islamic hell. A human figure walked out of hell covered in blood, with dawn on his back. It was the Azrael who reaped 120 souls, Black Mamba. When the bloodied devil appeared, the bloodlust expanded as though it was pushing away the fog. His footsteps were sure, his expression closed. Unlike what it seemed, Black Mambas legs were trembling minutely. Behind him, the path he had walked was littered in blood. It was a line of blood, of both his own and his enemies. There had been a guerrilla hiding in the place he had thrown himself towards in order to avoid the grenades explosion. He was stabbed in his calf. The guerrilla, who had given a cut, had his neck sliced off in exchange. There was none to tell the story of how the guerrilla managed to land a hit on the kanma. After Black Mamba left, a bloodied human figure crawled out of the machine gunners camp. The human crawled around after escaping the bunk without a sense of direction until it gave out in a heap of blood. It was the guerrilla whose heart had stopped in fear. He had survived under Allahs protection of extreme fortune. The Payze sentry unit of Habibs main army sealed their fate in the Er Ekdim valley. It was the result of staying faithful to their lives as mercenaries while fighting against the angle of death. The Er Ekdim valley was a sedimentary rocky region. The rocks surfaces had rounded after years of passing winds overall. There were several mushroom rocks that had their bottom parts rounded off by time. Black Mamba collapsed under the largest mushroom rock. It was a good spot for concealment, as it had an emptied roots hole, and gave shelter from sunlight and windstorms. His injury from the poisoned dart had already healed and scabbed. His poisonous state had also healed. The other scattered injuries, stabs, bruises, and tears looked fierce in nature but werent much. The problem was the stab wound in his left calf. It was one inch deep and five inches across. He ripped his gandourah to stem the bleeding and pulled out pieces of wood and metal embedded in his body. After pulling out most of the flints he collapsed back onto the ground. He didnt have the strength to move. His legs began to tremble from the nightlong use. It was the result of using strenuous techniques that bunched up his leg muscles. Not even his iron-hard muscles could withstand the strain. Black Mamba felt, for the first time, how important his comrades assistance was. The enemys ten-point formation was the most advantageous against die-alone soldiers like himself. The heavens net which often appeared in martial arts novels hadnt been a lie. If Emil had provided cover against the RPG with his machine gun, the battle would have ended easily. Of course, the chance of Emil dying in the process of doing so was 100 percent. He also felt the difficulty of going against a prepared enemy, even if it would have been a similar battle. He couldnt use the poison as his excuse. The enemy could use as many methods to kill him as he would. There wasnt a matchstick savior on the battlefield after all. Black Mamba stared at the eastern skies, which began to bleed red. The fog which had surrounded the valley began to climb up the cliffs surface. It was the sight of sunrise he often viewed on the small bridge, on top of the boar rock. Its over. At Burimers words, ten bloodshot eyes turned towards the Captain. Everyone had clenched their hearts in waiting throughout the night. It had been four hours of continuous explosions and gunshots. There had been over three hundred explosions counted throughout the night. Even if Black Mamba was talented, he was their teams youngest. There was no mercenary who found comfort in sending the youngest off to chaos. Even Mike who had been ordered to stay put found his insides burning black. C Black. Black! The Captain opened his headset and shouted. There was no reply. Black Mamba had ran and rolled all over the explosions and aftershocks. It would have been strange if his headset had remained intact. The mercenaries faces crumpled. Everyone imagined a result they disliked. Only Ombuti remained calm. A human was a human, and an Azrael was an Azrael. His owner wasnt going to be defeated with just a few herds of Basenji hunting dogs. Ombutis faith remained unwavering. Burimer, Mike, begin the search. The mercenaries left, leaving only Chartres behind. Ombuti looked everywhere for Black Mamba. Parts of the cliff had been destroyed. There had been small and loud explosions throughout the night. The ground had flipped and rocks had shattered. After witnessing the scene, worry began to creep in. Ombuti! At the sound of a lion roaring, Ombuti cracked his head around. Underneath a mushroom rock, his Wakil lay with all four wings spread apart. Uwah! Ombuti ran towards him in a frenzy and flew into tears as he hugged Black Mamba. Ombuti had trusted his Wakils abilities, but his chest had turned into coal. Uh, what are you doin? Surprised, Black Mamba spoke in his Gyeongsangdo accent. Wakil, you are safe! Allhu Akbar! Allhu Akbar! The man over 40 years old cried in ugly tears. Ombuti, Im hungry. Black Mamba was about to die in hunger. His hunger was as large as the energy he had spent. Ombuti hurriedly pulled out his C-ration and chocolate bars from his backpack. Bell Man, heres Wakil. His comrades rushed over after hearing Ombutis shouts. They were horrified upon finding a lump of blood instead of a human. Only his eyes remained black and white, while everything else was dyed in red. Even his face was crusted with dried blood. Bell Man rushed to check his injuries. The small scratches werent severe. They were tears from rock splinters or wood pieces that had torn through by the explosions. The large wound was his knife-torn calf. His muscles had been overturned by the foot-long tear. Bell Man immediately sterilized the wound and began suture. He placed nearly a hundred stitches. Black Mamba ate five C-rations while Bell Man was stitching. The moment his meal was over, Ombuti rapidly lit a cigarette and offered it. It was a loyal servant Ombutis dessert service. By the time the suture had nearly ended, Bell Man slapped his forehead. Ah, anesthesia! It was a mistake he often forgot. You forgot again? Why didnt you say so? Bell Man questioned his question. I thought we were short of anesthesia. It hurts. Dont forget next time, Black Mamba replied expressionlessly. All the mercenaries shook their heads. One was a psycho and the other was a monster. The Captain grabbed Black Mambas hand. Good work. There was nothing to say. Badgers meat is thick. Black Mamba smiled. Now that he was full, sleep came. It was his natural instincts in order to speed up the recovery process while decreasing the amount of energy spending. Black! Yup. Ombuti immediately slapped a hand over Mikes mouth. Be quiet. He fell asleep. The members who arrived later hung their mouths open. Zzz- Zzzzzz- It was ridiculous. To think there would be a human being who sleeps so comfortably with a snore, after a bloodthirsty battle, in the middle of a battlefield reeking of blood! They were rendered speechless at the level of uncaringness. Ombuti pulled out his Beretta and stood guard in front of Black Mamba. Jang Shin and Emil watched the back. Bell Man cut open Black Mambas clothes and began his treatment. Soldier, theres a bunch of dedicated ladies. Burimer smiled, speechless. Leave him; even if its Black, he would be tired to death. The Captain stared at the snoring Black Mamba with complicated eyes. Jang Shin, Emil, leave the guarding to Blacks servant and follow Mike. But Black looks injured Jang Shin and Emil dragged their feet and refused to leave. What are you bastards doing? We need to hurry with clean up. Take whats needed and stuff. Mikes professional sadism began. I should take a look at the masterpiece the angel of death worked on all night, Emil said leisurely as he slung his Minimi across his shoulder. He, too, had become a veteran who was no longer moved by Mikes orders. Black Mamba continued snoring without a care in the world. Burimer and Mike formed teams and climbed the surface of Er Ekdims valley. Ugh! My God! The mercenaries who found the scene of battle shivered. Mouris clicked on the cameras shutter rapidly. The entire cliff had been overturned. With pieces of splintered rocks, exploded tree stumps, uprooted plants and grass, and entangled corpses, they could tell how fierce the battle had been, in just reflection. That snake bastards flipped the entire cliff upside down. F***, I cant even breathe from now. Im never going to look at Korean bastards again, Mike murmured under his breath with a tired expression. The battlefield was nothing compared to the rows of corpses. There was a never-ending supply of that. The corpses ripped from explosions werent surprising. Aside from Jang Shin and Emil, they were all mercenaries who had once been the vanguards of the battlefield. They were seniors who opened their C-rations to eat in front of pieces of bodies. Chapter 65 - The Shadow of Betrayal Even they had never seen anything like this. The corpses destroyed by the explosions were nothing. Corpses missing their heads, heads crushed under rocks, exposed hearts from caved chests, corpses with their waists twisted outwards, and corpses with brain remnants leaking onto the floor were found in uncountable piles. There were over 32 corpses which had been created either by blunt weapon or hands. They felt an eerie air around them. Corpses riddled with AK bullet holes on their chests and one with a grenade embedded were all unprecedented sights. Even though they were rough mercenaries, they were frightened speechless. Jang Shin finally began vomiting. He had just pulled out a corpse from under a rock and had seen the exploded innards. He was an artilleryman. He had thrown artillery from the back lines and had never entered close-range combat. His insides were weak towards the gruesome sights. Ombuti, who saw Jang Shins poor state, scoffed. It was embarrassing to watch someone who called himself a warrior quack like a duck behind a rock. Hes no warrior! He was someone who mocked the name of Azrael, who had sent many enemies to Allah. Angered, Ombuti began to approach the man. He was planning to send him tumbling down the cliff by kicking the mans rear. Wait, hes Wakils friend. At the sudden thought, he stopped his action. He glared fiercely at the man before turning around and headed back towards Wakil. Jang Shin kept vomiting without realizing the reaper had just visited. This was why ignorance was called bliss. The team members who had finished organizing the battlefield began to set up their concealment tent. It was placed under a climbing canopy which extended outwards. The Captain slowed their departure from the battlegrounds for Black Mambas recovery. Burimer, did you count the numbers? Yes. Theres 119 dead, none injured. Just the RPGs the bastards have moved are at 20. Theres even an old recoilless rifle and mortar. Ive gathered over 10 RPG launchers and 30 grenade launchers. Ive abandoned the useless STRELAs. Ha, theyve finally succumbed to evil. The 20 mobilized RPGs were ridiculous to consider. It meant that the bastards had taken the Ratel team, or rather Black Mamba, as a serious threat. Youve taken too much of a risk, Captain. Burimer chewed his Captain out. S***, theres nothing suspicious about this. Whoever it is, Im going to chew him dead. The Captain gritted his teeth. Mike threw a complaint filled glare at the Captain. The idea of 120 guerrillas of the main army filling this narrow valley made him lose his breath. They were lucky to have a super-powered human such as Black Mamba or they would have died. Captain, were you trying to check the information leak with your subordinates lives on the line? I understand you want to believe in the headquarters. But dont you think this was irresponsible as a leader? Mike criticized in harsh tones. Im the officer of Legion Etranger. I wanted to trust my organization until the end. Im sorry. The Captain admitted his mistakes honestly and apologized. Would an apology suffice after someones dead? Dead? Everyones alive! If Black Mamba hadnt been here, everyone would have died. The FROLINAT had gathered in that damned small valley like herds of dogs. If this had been any normal situation we would have all died. I demand an apology, Mike spoke back, fuming. He had been riddled with fear throughout the night. Just thinking about it made him feel unjust. Bang! Ack! The Captain, pissed, threw the water bottle at Mike. It landed on Mikes nose, causing him to shout. You s*** bastard, its fine if you arent dead. You still havent got you s*** together after being pummelled by Black. You ****, Ill kill you instead. At the fierce atmosphere, Mike quickly ran off. Hilariously, the Captain had thrown Korean curses. He was a captain who normally didnt get annoyed with his subordinates. It only indicated how nervous he was. Mike, too, was someone who bossed those under him but didnt dare fight back against his superiors. The scene indicated how stressed everyone was. The Captain looked around at his subordinates. Theres no point in this Raccoon mission. Im going to request a return. The team members nodded their heads. Black Mamba, whats your opinion? The Captain decides. I follow. Black Mambas words were, like always, short and to the point. There was no meaning in continuing mission Raccoon any longer. They had been thrown in as bait, and the spies had shoveled information to their enemies. There was no reason to drag their feet or to gain further confirmations. Burimer opened up the communication lines antenna. C Alpha, its Bravo. C Bravo, heres Alpha. Is Paul okay? A familiar voice rang over the communication line. It was the lieutenant officer Pedan of Operations, the squadron commander. The captain was pleased to the point of tears. C Alpha, wheres the communicator? C Bravo, what, you dont want me? First Lieutenant Etang has gone down to the city for an urgent issue. It was too sudden, I had to stand in. C Alpha, I want to talk to the commander myself. Silence descended briefly. C Understood. Lieutenant Officer Pedan allowed communication. If the operations team leader wished to speak to the commander himself, it meant that there was a serious problem. C Paul, are you alive? It was colonel Philips bright voice, as always. C Yes, Im alive. The Captain began to report everything which had happened in progress. He reported everything, including their battle status, the spys existence, their information which was leaking to the enemy real-time, the MP5F bullets they found in Ongur village alongside the guards corpse, their supply lines attack, the misleading information, two contact hours and revealed position, and their emergency helicopters shooting. C Those pieces of ****, Paul, stop the mission immediately. Wait at the order point. Colonel Philip ordered the end of their mission and stationed them until further orders. First Lieutenant Etang had headed down towards the city to meet Twarga at daybreak when communications were few. He hadnt imagined Team Ratel would open communications in that hour. Humans schemed, but the heavens decided the results. The Captain was relieved. From Colonel Philips reaction, he could tell that their immediate family hadnt abandoned them. He had managed to avoid the worst betrayal. He first moved out of the battle region and concealed the team deeply within the Bodl Depression. He needed recovery time for his teams condition to improve. Colonel Philip didnt doubt team leader Pauls report. According to that report, he had been made the worlds greatest fool. He had basically pushed his subordinates backs towards their deaths. Information such as the Ratel teams movements, their supply drop point, and Gazelles trail was something that was unavailable to others but the lines officers. Also, the bullets and corpse found near Makumbos hiding place was something he could faint on. It was, without a doubt, the DGSE bastards dirty back-door plan. The Back Door plan was named from a story of a planned robbery and street robber. The story was of how a street robber managed the walk through the back door, which was open, while the planned robberys members had to fight against the houses owner. Major Charcosi, what is the point of you being here? Marshal Charcosi blinked blankly. He didnt know the reason behind his sudden requested presence. Philip threw the written transmission at him. Charcosis face turned paler by the second as he read down the transmission until it ended up as ashen as a pigs liver. Colonel, Ill capture those rats as soon as possible. Go now, you idiot! Declare a martial emergency and shove everyone with access to this line of communications above company-grade officer in observed holdings. But what about Deployment commander Geofrey? Putain, are you stupid? Hes the smelliest one them of all. Put him in a solitary holding cell. If he gets away, consider yourself dead! Philip shouted, red-faced. The surprised marshal shot outside like a bullet. The high-quality amplifier began to ring. C Beep, declaring martial emergency from now. All officers and non-commissioned officers remain in your positions. All soldiers aside from stationed guards to camp. I repeat. Declaring martial emergency. The NDjamena Deuxieme Reps camp flipped on its head. Charcosi ran into the communications office first, leading the military police himself. Bang! Charcosi entered the room with his foot. What the hell? First Lieutenant Etang who had been solving to coded written communications jumped up from his sear. Ah! Police! Blood drained out of Etangs face instantaneously. Putain, I always knew the tail was too long. Etang threw his communications device at Charcosi before jumping out of the window. But they werent military police hadnt earned their positions due to their poker faces. Idiot! Charcosi laughed. Subordinates were stationed outside of the window. Crash- Agh! What awaited Etang on the other side of the window was the head of a large Pamus. Etang, who had been stabbed in his stomach, rolled on the ground in pain. Lieutenant Tibel Etang, youre under arrest for intentional strategic information leaks. The handcuffs clicked around him. Etang gave up on everything. The release of national secret strategical information was 10 years in jail at the least. There was no clemency. Charcosis smile widened. The situation had gotten easier thanks to Etangs actions. It was as though he had gained everything without moving. He immediately ran to the deployments head office. What is it? Marshals shouldnt be so free to the point of visiting my office for a cup of tea. Geofrey didnt even stand from his chair. Major Geofrey, Im under orders to arrest you. Orders? You should know Im a part of the DGSE. Are these Colonel Philips orders? Yes. Orders to arrest you for intentional confidential military information leakage. Hm, any evidence? Geofreys attitude caused the marshals anger to flare. He was Charcosi, who was always dissatisfied with the DGSE and 11th Brigades lackadaisical and uncaring operational attitudes. If theres nothing on you, Ill gladly take off my cape noir. Haha, is the cape noir some Belmondos hat? A bastard who plans with his as*h*** knows cape noir? Ha, how the ages have improved. Even the homeless and dysfunctional are capable of mustering pride. Sharp words were exchanged between the two. Geofreys words mocked the history of how the Legion Etranger came to be. The Foreign Force was founded in 1831 by Louis Phillip the first. He had forcibly recruited social threats such as illegal immigrants, street criminals, and violent murderers. He had trained the rough people even more roughly and deployed them into troublesome battles. The reason why it was called the Foreign Force was that the vast majority of conscripts at the time were illegal immigrants. In any case, Philip Is foreign unit policy became a huge success. It was because the country could solve problems by absorbing societys threatening factors. He had literally caught crabs with a ditch. At the same time, the Legion Etranger became the root of the main armys envy. Legion Etranger was reserved to be forced into dirty, tough, and dangerous missions alone. Black Mambas Ratel team had also been deployed due to similar reasons. It was told that Lacro and the advisers of King Philip the first said this to create Legion Etranger: C Your Majesty, if the French nobility touches trash, the stench lingers on their body. Trash has to be gathered and burned or recycled. We have realized your deep concerns in the Algeria problem. There are over 32,000 illegal immigrants in Paris alone. Their violent tendencies are causing Parisians to migrate to other cities, and the situation is getting out of hand. Your Majesty must have read the petitions to send them away. They are an easy solution. We can gather such trash to create a Legion Etranger. We can send the militarys troublemakers to train them. Theres nothing to lose, as theyre not the blood of our own Frenchmen. C It was a conversation that reflected how Legion Etranger was seen in those days. Such an image was still rooted deeply today. You cockroach bastard who doesnt even know a mans dreams. Take him away. Charcosi shoved down the feeling of wanting to slap Geofreys smiling face. If my charges arent revealed, be prepared to take off your clothes. Geofrey glared at Charcosi as he was dragged out by the military police. Damned s***, you should prepare to take off your own. Every f****** information department whines like a b***. In all countries, the relationship between field armies and informational departments were sour. Legion Etranger and DGSE shared stronger sentiments. It was because the DGSE had always been behind the sacrifices of the Legion Etranger mercenaries. Chapter 66 - The Shadow of Betrayal Military police werent along the command lines or communication lines. They were military order officers with nothing to do. Since they were deployed at Chad, there was even less work. It was a boring position which required heading out to the city in NDjamena and escorting drunk or handful mercenaries back sometimes. Charcosi was impressed by the Ratel teams strength, which had swept through the rough Sahel. Twelve badgers running through the vast landswasnt it a just movie title! The spy bastards were those who had tried to sweep his role models to death. Blood boiled in rage. Charcosi moved the military police like lightning. From the command lines to staff lines, he arrested everyone, including 11th airborne brigades head strategist Captain Roland Manuel, who was placed in solitary confinement. Captain Manuel even suffered injuries. The officers and military police of Legion Etranger were known to be rough. They had no choice to become rough since they had to drag in rough mercenaries. Captain Manuel had his skull cracked and crushed under metal sticks when he resisted. It was a common sight in Legion Etranger. The mole search wasnt hard. The tough investigators of the military police force managed to find those listed suspicious within the day. Geofrey, who had made fun of the investigators, had three of his teeth broken. The military police members, who had graduated as enlisted officers, spoke with their fists and metal bats. There were accused as suspects. There was First Lieutenant Etang, who they predicted had been bribed at Libya, alongside Major Geofrey of Operations from the 11th airborne brigade and strategy commander Manuel of the 11th airborne brigade. Although there wasnt any certain evidence on Manuel, his frequent visits to Geofreys caused suspicions. Philip was out of his mind. He immediately reported the situation to the 11th airborne brigade and requested an explanation from the DGSE. In the DGSE headquarters of Marseille, things were tense. Hey, Miguel. The situations turned worse. Minister Bonipas pulled out his Gauloise and bit down. White smoke covered the table. Do you want one? No, thank you. Manager Miguel immediately declined. He, too, was an avid smoker, but he didnt enjoy the dry, sour feeling it left in his mouth. The Gauloise, which smelled of fish oil and womens privates combined, was something he detested. To think he would smoke such things, Serpent was truly a man with strange tastes. The cigarette prices rose too much. F****** damned taxes. Bonipas whined away. France was indeed famous for its high cigarette prices. Naturally, cigarette smuggling rose as a trend, and all sorts of cigarettes from all over the world were sold. In the end, Miguel pulled out his documents. The 11th airborne brigades Operations Major Geofrey was, in fact, the DGSEs main operations team member. He was Miguels immediate subordinate. How should we deal with Geofrey? Isnt he your subordinate? It was always like this. Bonipas never revealed his true thoughts. That was why he was nicknamed serpent. He was telling him to put in a hit-man and, either by assassination or rescue, do whatever he wanted. Of course, using either of the methods would gain criticism, and the criticism was his alone. We cant kill someone who works his due. You dont think Geofrey would open his mouth, would you? Not if they inject him a truth serum. Philip wouldnt do that barbaric thing, he acts too much like a gentleman. Its an unfortunate loss of moneyto think that Etang bastard hadnt been there when the communications line was open. Manager Miguel clicked his tongue. The Twarga who had bribed Etang in the casino was a DGSE member. In the end, Etang had been fooled by an imaginary person. Miguel found the situation even more unfortunate the more he thought of it. The Ratel team disappears from the Sahel and the Commando team enters NDjamena with the rescued Makumbo. Etang is arrested for intentional information leaks. They hand Etang to the enraged Philip, and DGSE retreats from the scene. What a plan it was, from beginning to end! It was a plan they had fit around Etang, with all the pieces in place. Their tail was hard to cut now that everything had been upturned. Its a fight with their eyes covered, but the back door plan cant be revealed. The media would tear us apart. The media isnt the problem. The problem is that Mitterrands political policy is about moral politics. I understand. Ill push this case as something we didnt know. If you keep sticking out that ducks feet, itll end sooner or later. I understand. I feel as though Black Mambas a loss. Bonipas closed his eyes. He recalled the Korean with sharp features and kind eyes. He was a human with a tremendous physique despite his looks. He had thought of the mercenary as his most useful card in the pile. A talented individual cannot compare to Chad. If we leave Chad under our rule, we can expand our influence through Nigeria, Tunisia, Morocco, Cameroon, Senegal, Gabon, and the Congo. Thats true. Miguel nodded his head. The Habre government was the indisputable representative of Africas new countries and their acquainted administrative. If the Habre government collapsed, Frances power over the entire southern regions of Africa, which had once been their colony, would waver. The immediate quelling of Chads situation was connected to the French-African resource collaboration plans. They couldnt steal from those lands as they had done when it was a colony, but there was an infinite amount of natural resources they could buy cheaply. The uranium in Gabon and underground resources in Congo, especially, was the blood and flesh of France. Bonipas lowered his voice. What are the possibilities of the mercenary team returning? 100 percent impossible. 100 percent? Bonipas narrowed his eyes even more and stared. Habib lost his rationality. He isnt even taking Makumbo into consideration. Or perhaps he thinks that the mercenary team has taken him. Anyways, hes blocking the returning southern paths with his full military force. Even if theyre talented fighters, they wont be able to stand against a wave offensive with a handful of members. That mercenary team has Black Mamba. Thats not an easy prey. Sahel is nothing like the nice shores. They have to fight against the environment and weather. Their battle capacity would be shot about now. Miguel was certain. He found it amazing that the mercenary team was still alive. Theres nothing called a hundred percent to people like us. What happened to the thing in your previous report? Bonipas lowered his voice even more. If they dont receive their supplies, the only place they can make contact is at Paya. Ive already prepared it in Paya. Its trouble for us is if they return. Ill make sure they wont talk. Their meaningful conversation without subject nor object passed back and forth. DGSEs dirty operations werent a thing of the past. They used even the most high ranking officials in their operations. Sometimes, people like lieutenant officer Etang became used in the middle, unknowingly. The result was their own destruction. Etang admitted that he released the details of the plan and the Ratel teams whereabouts to an individual named Twarga. Major Geofrey continued to deny the accusation that he was a spy. DGSE didnt admit or deny the accusations, like always. The 11th airborne brigade relocated the Operations head, Manuel. Their excuse was to treat him for injuries. The 11th airborne brigade was a higher controlling power above Legion Etranger. Philip, who was left to suck on his fingers, gritted his teeth in anger. Philip, who finished his first round of investigations, immediately requested the Ratel teams retreat from the Command Post. The headquarters in Aubagne immediately reported the retreat request to the 11th airborne brigade, who had the strategic power. Everything had happened within the day Philip received his report from First Lieutenant Paul. What! Continue the plan? Colonel Philip doubted his own ears. To continue a plan in which information had already been leaked? If this was a joke, it wasnt even funny. Chief of Operations Lt. Colonel Louis handed over the written paper with a sour expression. C Legion Etrangers Deuxieme Rep. First Lieutenant Jean-Paul and 11 others are requested to continue the operation. The operation will dissolve 72 hours from the time of this issue. Louis, what, what is this? Is what I just read even French? It is. Lt. Colonel Louis nodded his head with an anguished face. The retreat of their planned team, which they had thought would be approved immediately, had been denied. There wasnt even a reason listed in the refusal of request the 11th airborne brigade had sent back. Aggggh, these f****** bastards. These bastards! I should shove them up the as***** of a b***! Dissolved after 72 hours! Are they retreating everyones corpses or what? Lt. Colonel Louis watched Philip jump up and down with a dark expression. Colonel, I find their 72 hours operations maintaining request suspicious. Whats suspicious about that? Theyre asking them to open up a way for the others who are running away with the raccoon in their arms. Lt. Colonel Louis nodded his head. Not just anyone could be the Colonel of Deuxieme Rep. Even during his excitable rage, Philip had pinpointed the main issue of the order. F*** this 72 hours or whatever bulls***. Send a helicopter. Its fine even if it gets tailed. Colonel, going against orders is a precedence to prosecution. Damn prosecution, Ill do it. The situations abnormal. The Department of Defence has banned helicopter operations. You might have to stand in martial court. What? What the f*** are you talking about? Philips face turned redder than a pigs liver. They said theyre banning low-flight air carriers as much as the FROLINAT has increased the numbers of portable air missiles Arrrgh, f***! Philip collapsed into his chair. He had tried to move a helicopter personally, but even that had been tied down by the Department of Defences orders. They had probably collaborated with the DGSE. His conscience didnt let him abandon his subordinates. Im doing this my way. Send a written order to Robert. Were sending a helicopter. Send an explosives company and a sniping company to the Sahel, and bring back the badger. No. Its not only you, Colonel. Ill be forced to stand trial at martial court, too. Ill take everything. Go do it. Now. Oui! He replied in the affirmative, but Louis was conflicted. This wasnt a situation he could do anything about. Lt. Colonel Louis, after sighing continuously, issued a deployment order to the Aubagne headquarters in the end. This time, Lieutenant General Dimanche of Legion Etranger flew into a rage. Philip had forcibly gone against orders to stop the deployment. The Department of Defence, running out of time, stepped forward. The most important part of Makumbos rescue mission was the secrecy. The Ratel team had been deployed as a smokescreen as well as bait. If Philip continued to act as though he was crazy and shoved the airborne force into the Sahel, then it gave Libya and the Soviets a reason to interfere. If the hole broken through by the Ratel team was blocked off, their rescue mission was bound to turn into flames. In the Department of Defences position, it was like throwing sand all over a prepared meal. They couldnt even dismiss Colonel Philip from his position. If Philip began to act out with all his knowledge of the plan, several heads were going to fly. Strategist Advisor Peron of the Department of Defence summoned a meeting of all those involved. It was the second day since Black Mamba finished his dire deathmatch in Er Ekim. Blood flew in places where blood flowed, and tongues flew in places where words flew. In the commanding meeting room of Aubagnes Legion Etranger, six people sat around a shining mahogany table. The faces of the participants were the responsible commanders of Legion Etranger, the Defence Department, and the Operations Department. They were Lieutenant General Dimanche of Legion Etrangers Command Post, Chief of Operations Major General Montagne, Chief of the 11th Airborne Brigade Colonel, Chief Minister of Foreign Operations Bonipas of DGSE, Strategist Advisor Peron of the Department of Defence, and Deuxieme Reps Regiment General, Colonel Philip. There was no one below Philip in rank within the participants. Colonel Philips face was already burning red. Strategist advisor Philip began to convince Colonel Philip with a complicated expression. Colonel, I understand that this has angered you, but this is a national priority. We cannot deploy Deuxieme Rep. It would mean the loss of all initiatives we have at hand. Philip shouted in response, Stop that. What national priority! Ive become the worlds biggest fool who has shoved his own subordinates into the lions mouth. My subordinates died without knowing a single thing! Do you think this makes sense? Since when did France turn into an unrealistic, pathetic country? Bonipas, the strategy minister of DGSE, stepped forward. Philip, calm down. In three days, Makumbo will arrive at NDjamena. Then you can move the entire Legion Etranger. No, Ill even move the airborne brigade. Right now Team Ratel has to shake up the FROLINAT even more. Philip made a fist and shook it. Will there be anyone alive in three days? Are you not satisfied with the meaningless blood which has been spent until now, to ask for more? Youre not satisfied using my subordinates as a back-door operations bait, wanting them to die out in that f****** desert? Im going to hurl. I can deal with you making a fool out of me, but I will not stand by and watch my subordinates be sacrificed! Philip shouted. He took off his hat and slammed it on the table. Chapter 67 - A Desperate Escape Colonel Philip, Team Ratel has shown amazing mental prowess on the battlefield. Theyve survived 20 days. Why cant they survive another three? Lets put faith in your subordinates. Colonel Tanshe said hatefully. Philip turned and stared at Colonel Philip with a faraway gaze. He wished to slice off Tanshes thick-lipped mouth that was saying this nonsense. Team Ratel has fought six large-scale battles alone. Theyve killed over 700 northern foot soldiers. The squadron has managed to wipe out two battalions, and theyre still engaged in mud fights with the hyenas right now. That FROLINAT committee members frothing at the mouth Philip, whose emotions overran his words, gathered his breath. The participants on either side of the table began to whisper. It was shocking to hear the numbers of FROLINAT soldiers the mercenaries had wiped out despite being outnumbered by 700. The participants began to talk over each other trying to confirm the information from Bonipas. Keep listening. The third army led by Habib is known as the best and most evil of the FROLINAT armies. Ive received reports that Team Ratel managed to wipe out half of that army, including their command post. Wow, if that report is true, this is the beginning of a new legend in Legion Etranger. Congratulations, Colonel Philip. Strategic Advisor Peron began to clap his hands. Following his lead, the other participants began to clap. Bang Philip smacked the table. This is not a congratulatory matter. You all should know the Muslim tradition of returning what is given with a bloody vengeance. The FROLINAT has scattered a human wall around its Kichi Kichi and New Delhi borders to regain their wounded pride. Its like throwing a net on them only to smash them from behind with a hammer. Thousands are armed with Soviet weapons blocking their southern route. A strand of mercenaries has been shoved on top of a large anvil. A hammer is descending. And you think theyll survive? . A mercenary isnt Superman or Rambo. Theyre holding on thanks to Black Mamba, but they, too, are humans who die when shot. You guys have thrown my subordinates to the piranhas and are forbidding me to send even a rescue boat. Three days and theyre dead. Bonipas raised his hand. Thats the thing. The plan has gone smoothly thanks to Team Ratel shaking FROLINAT around. Theyve already shown their talents. If they withstand another three days, the plan will succeed perfectly. Our country will gain an immense advantage, and Team Ratel will become legends. Bonipas spoke these cold-hearted words easily. Philip reached for his handgun and ran his hand over its grip. I should shoot him. It was an impossible reality, but he truly wanted to shoot that evil Bonipas to death. Bonipas, you should go preach your words in front of an elementary schools graduating class. The mercenaries are also someones husband, father, and son. Would you be able to say that when your son is dying somewhere in the Sahel? Hmm! At Philips direct words, Bonipas cleared his throat and closed his mouth. Commander, did you know about this? Philip asked Lieutenant General Dimanche. Yes, I did. Dimanche was unable to hide his conflicted frown. How could you give a one-way ticket to your subordinates? This event sets a precedent for Legion Etranger. It was a plan decided for national gains. In the end, I have nothing to excuse myself from, to you or the members that were thrown in hell. He had kept his silence on the point of national advantage, but this was something to be morally criticized. After being questioned by his subordinate his face turned red. Philips anger drained out of him at his commanders apology. Bonipas, which team secured Makumbo? The GCP secured him. Currently, they should have escaped Ongur and passed Nedehli. The routes there are empty thanks to the Team Ratel. I see. They still havent escaped FROLINATs nets. Thats why you needed two days. Youre trying to get Team Ratel to mess things up even more, dead or alive, to move that advantageous card more easily. Doesnt matter if the mercenaries die. Theyre not even French so a piece of metal would do; some bribery of their families would do. Hahaha! Philip let out an empty laugh. Im one of many who looks forward to Team Ratels return. I didnt know they would crush the FROLINAT forces so severely. This is a time when Frances influence is being measured by how settled Chad becomes. Team Ratel is this missions vital part. Since things have already turned out this way, they can hold out for three, or two days longer. The mercenaries arent our countrymen either, anyways, dont you agree? Minister Bonipas had rolled around in the informational fields for 30 years. He didnt even blink when Philip shouted or acted out. Instead, he countered him with a factual tone. Bang Philip smashed the table with his fist and jumped to his feet. What? Theyre French soldiers and my subordinates! Theyre mercenaries after money and foreigners. Bonipas countered, word for word. They were soldiers invested in for situations just like these. They werent Frenchmen. The reason behind fattening a pig was to send it up to the feasting table. The Department of Defence had approved the backdoor operation. Nothing was going to change just because one of Legion Etrangers colonels rampaged about. Inside, Bonipas laughed at Philip. Bonipas, do you know what kind of place the Sahel is? You must have only seen it on paper, at your desk. The strategic region that Team Ratel is in, north of the Bodl flatlands, alternates 30 degrees between day and night. During the day, they suffer from dehydration, and during the night, they die from the cold. In the day, they are accosted by mosquitoes and, at night, accosted by sandstorms. A man like you who only schemes behind his desk wouldnt survive two days. My children have fought crazily against the FROLINAT for 20 days these conditions. By now, they should be dead. I am going to send that helicopter and bring them back. Philip, Napoleon once said to never intervene during an enemys mistake. FROLINAT is barking up the wrong tree. The plan is in its finishing stages. If Team Ratel gives us another 48 hours, our country will be able to gain a political and military initiative. Wed be able to spread Frances influence across Chad and eastern Africa without requiring any more blood to be spilled. Stop being stubborn. If you continue doing so, there will be no choice but to place you in a holding cell. Peron took Bonipas side. What! Youll arrest me? Its for the country. Major General Montang added. Philip, the strategy has already begun, and its nearing success. It may be painful, but national priorities come first. Colonel, youll be a general someday, no? Commander Dimanche supported Bonipas. Philip fell back into his chair. There was nothing he could do against the united front of all the participants. And, in the midst of all that, his ears had opened up to the word General. He wished to smash in his own head. He wondered since when had he been so gullible. Then, what are we meant to do about them? Philip, drained of all his strength, spoke in a murmur. We should immediately process their medal of honor and give them their due rewards. Commander Tanshe spoke as though the mercenaries were already dead. Whats the point of receiving a medal of honor after dying? How can I face covering their corpses with the tri-colored flag, when theyve been manipulated to their deaths? Colonel Philip stopped talking and looked at Colonel Tanshe. Lets exchange our positions. Imagine the airbornes Team Jesepe has become the bait and is being torn apart by the FROLINAT. Would you be able to abandon them, commander? Im sorry. At the sudden attack, Colonel Tanshe lowered his head. Their cause was with the national advantage, but there was nothing to gain out of engaging a verbal fight with Philip. Philips rage died down rapidly. The plan had already entered its last stages. All responsible parties used national initiatives as their shield. If he kept going against them, the atmosphere would turn into an accusation of doubting his loyalty towards his own country. The back door operation had also been approved by his immediate commander, Dimanche. As the plan had been put forth by both the Department of Defence and the DGSE, his point of view was no more significant than a coffee mug, even if he raged about. His head ached at the thought of being locked up from further disagreements and several other complicated thoughts. Philip glared at Bonipas. Bonipas, you planned this dirty plan, didnt you? Yes. It was to fool the Soviets and Libyas plans and to make holes in the FROLINATs nets. Although, Team Ratel did rip through an entire part instead of making holes. Ive kept you out for the sake of security. I am very sorry. Bonipas apology didnt sound like an apology. Philip didnt want to hear the soulless apology. Bonipas was too much like a snake; anything he said wasnt believable. Hm, and the bastard called Major Geofrey and turned over the information to FROLINAT. That didnt happen. All information was leaked by that stupid staff mercenary Etang. Bonipas confirmed. You f*cking bastard! Philip launched from his seat and swung a fist at Bonipass face. Argh! Crash Bonipas had been punched in his chin and fell over with his chair. He was a man who didnt reveal his thoughts. In Philips eyes, even his fall looked like an intended slapstick comedy routine. You bastard, what f*cking security. You just wanted to take everything without me. Do whatever you want. Bang Colonel Philip kicked open the doors of the conference room and walked out. Ha! Philips a gentleman, but it seems as though hes thoroughly pissed off. Bonipas smiled as he rubbed his chin. It was a beneficial trade, to dissolve the situation with a punch. Philip was angered, but he was still a high ranking colonel. He could tell the importance of this mission. Since Minister Bonipas has taken the punch for the team, todays meal will be on me. I may have been the humiliating sight, being punched by my subordinate if it hadnt been for you! Hahahaha! Dimanche looked at Minister Bonipas and laughed freely. Well, Im a professional at playing the evil role after all. Im glad its been resolved this way. I was prepared to sweat through the meeting. Hahaha! Bonipas smiled bitterly. Who would have thought Team Ratel would do so well? The Canem and Borkou FROLINATs are hanging around Team Ratel. Whatever anyone says, Team Jesepe has managed to procure Makumbo without having to shoot a single bullet thanks to them. The mercenaries do deserve a Lgion dhonneur. But who is this Black Mamba fellow? At advisor Perons question, Bonipas began to reply. He received a call name from the Department of Defence. His details are classified information. Hes a god-level sniper who knows the ancient martial arts of East Asia and is capable of clearing a small military unit within a minute. He wiped out an entire platoon of Deuxieme Reps snipers, alone, in a mock-battle. His close combat is also impressive. Ive heard that he managed to down a crazed bull with a single punch in Corsica. Not all of the stories are believable, but he is a special mercenary. Ha, I cant believe it. If thats true, it would be a loss to have his bones buried in the Sahel! Tsk tsk. Advisor Peron clicked his tongue. Its unfortunate, regarding Black Mamba, but Chad is more important. Bonipas returned his words, emotionless. He prioritized everything on the national level. An individuals life was nothing to him. Of course, his own life was an exception. Minister Bonipas, are you certain that Team Jesepe will arrive in NDjamena in two days? Advisor Peron asked. Three days is plenty; two is a tight fit. Thanks to Team Ratel causing chaos, not even the Soviet or Libyan intelligence departments know of Team Jesepes existence. All eyes are on the Team Ratel. Jesepe will be able to extract Makumbo out safely. Good! Mercenaries have no point in existing if they dont do their due worth. Advisor Peron was satisfied. This mission had been put forth in collaboration with both the Department of Defence and the intelligence department. Thanks to Team Ratel, there was going to be a significant personnel selection record added to his resume. A smile automatically escaped him. This is good news. The Soviets would swim around the wrong waters, and Libya would have to vomit out Chad and the entire four northern regions. Its a perfect political and military victory. Let us cheer for France and the mercenaries. The Major General offered a toast. For France! For the mercenaries! All the participants raised their wine glasses. The information about the mercenaries dying in the Sahel had long left their heads. Chapter 68 - Episode 2: A Desperate Escape While the old men in power raised their wine glasses in a toast, inside an air-conditioned conference room in Aubagne, the young mercenaries in the burning Sahel showered themselves in blood to pad the resumes of those old men. Chartres hadnt gotten a single word wrong. In ant societies, the old ones led and threw their bodies into danger to protect the organization and the young ones. In humans, the old used the organization from the rear and filled their bellies with the blood of the young. Similarly, nothing was wrong with the saying that money and steel would be able to cover most blood up. The Department of Defence and the DGSE had used three East-Asian strategies, ˮO (murk the water to fish), •| (sound the east and hit the west), and ׉t (use anothers talent to show oneselfs), to place the mercenary group on the sacrificial altar. The old men were satisfied, but Team Ratel fell into an inescapable swamp because of them. Colonel Philip had flown out of the meeting room and immediately headed towards the Hercules that was waiting to take off. His incompetence had thrown his subordinates into a trap. The old mens words of how mercenaries werent French citizens and should work for their food and pay rang in his ears. Ha, those dirty f*ckers! Colonel Philip spat in the direction of Aubagne and stepped on the trap. Armang, lets go. You dont look too well. First Lieutenant Commander Armang said as he received his bag. Of course Im not happy. I feel as though those old men have given me their fleas. Im going to go crazy; my entire body has hives. The results werent good, I see. But hadnt you already predicted this? F*ck, my hands and feet are tied, too. They said theyll throw me in jail if I keep insisting on sending a rescue team. Take a break. You need to decide with a clear head, so as not to leave any regrets. Armang calmed Philip as he offered him a neck pillow. Whirl The machine passed the runway and lifted gently. Philip buried himself into his seat and closed his eyes. The words about rank advancement kept ringing around his head. No, he had long thrown it out of his head, but it remained firmly attached to his heart. The dream of any soldier was to hang a star on their shoulder. The awarded star is the blood and tears of many subordinates. They were the right words, but his conscience shook him. Whether it was during peacetime or wartime, subordinates had to be sacrificed for him to become a general. Colonel, you should try this. Armang handed him a rectangular box. Hm, isnt this dish called hoe? When did you prepare it? Armang threw away the chopsticks that were attached to the wrapper and handed him a fork. On the wrapper, were the words ʱr ˾ (The Great Sushi Emperor) in red. If Black Mamba had seen those words, he would have spat fire from his eyes. The two Frenchmen only regarded it as some strange characters. I prepared it when it seemed as though you would miss your meal. Its some portable dish called bento I bought from a Japanese store in Marseilles. Thanks. But why is that Japanese store selling Korean food? Black Mamba told me dishes like these were Korean. The Japanese are good at copying, arent they? The Japanese Bar in Brouden street has their girls take orders dressed up as Sophie Marceau. Ive been to that establishment. Female workers have make-up like Sophie Marceau and are taking orders with their breasts exposed, no underwear. Good enough for just the eyes. Philip attempted to switch out thoughts of the smelly old men at the conference with naked women. It wasnt easy. In fact, Bonipas glare only seemed to intensify in his mind. Philip shoved a hoe into his mouth with a fork and chewed. Now that Im eating raw fish, I remember Burimer. My friend must be bored out of his mind in the Sahel. Youre right. Theres no fish in the desert after all. Everyone knew Burimer as the fishing maniac in the legion. He always provided the officers and soldiers cafeterias with large fish that he had caught that day from the Shari River. Hows the taste? Worse than Black Mambas. When that guy made it, the fish jumped around in my mouth. He was an amazing guy. Armang had met Black Mamba for the first time in the officers cafeteria. That had been a new experience. Not even Armang had known that Black Mamba was a call-named mercenary. That was the day Burimer had caught a large Nile perch and goliath tigerfish from the Shari River. Armang had been surprised at the fish that was over a meter long. And he had been even more surprised at Black Mambas knife handling skills. Commander, do you remember Black Mambas showcase? Its something Ill never forget. Philip hadnt forgotten the show Black Mamba had shown in the officers cafeteria. A large fish was set up on the cutting board. When it flapped, even the cooks were unable to control it and struggled. Burimer had poked Black Mambas side. Black Mamba, who had been shaking his head, finally stepped forward. Even Philip had been interested in how Black Mamba was going to handle the fish. Black Mamba pulled out his large kukri. He tapped the fishs head with the blunt end of his knife. The fish had been flapping everywhere but then fainted onto the board, only opening and closing its mouth. With a swish, the blade moved gently as though it was water. The scales fell in a row from head to toe. No one realized that the blade had altered degrees several times in that single sweep. Without much knife movement, all the scales had been removed. With another swish, the fishs bones were revealed from the back of its head to its tail. Philip held his breath. The gutting had been fearsome. Black Mamba lifted the remnants as though he was ripping off double-sided tape. After flipping the fish, the kukri passed through one more time. Wow! All the onlookers exclaimed. With two swipes of the blade, the large fish had only its head and bones. The heart of the fish was behind its gills. Usually, when hoe was made, the gills were separated to poke the heart and drain its blood. For large fishes, even its tail had to be cut to drain the blood because the rawness and taste of the fish decreased the more blood seeped into its muscles. But because Black Mamba was capable of removing all its flesh at once, that process had been forgotten. A large slab of raw fish was placed on the board. Tututu The kukris blade moved to the point it couldnt be seen. Thinly sliced hoe piled on the board. Black Mamba, finishing his job, moved away. Even then, the fish without its flesh was still opening and closing its mouth. Philips mouth curved into a smile. Burimer had used Black Mamba as an excuse to enjoy his hobbies, and Black Mamba used his amazing knife skills as cooking skills. The sea bass that jumped inside his mouth and the sweet and spicy Korean chili paste was a joyful memory, and those old men were trying to steal it. It would be nice if Black Mamba returned and sliced all of those bastards lips raw. What? What did you say? Armang, who had been mixing wasabi into the soy sauce, lifted his head. Ah, nothing. Just saying. Armang, take it away. Sorry. I ruined your mood by saying unnecessary things. No. Black Mamba hated Japan the most. Calling them a shameless race. I dont like Japan either. They mock Frances quality products with their replicas after all. If you look at Asias history, theyre worse than the Nazis. The weak are the sinners. Make a special forces list to deploy into the Sahel. I should send at least a hundred. Im going to see if Team Jesepe is going to chase me all the way to Africa to arrest me. Prepare for immediate engagement upon arrival. Philip was planning to greet them by car reinforcements if a helicopter rescue was impossible. At the very least, he wasnt a coward. *** Its here. Dig. Are you sure? It doesnt look as though therell be fish. Jang Shin and Emil, in suspicious moods, disagreed. Where Ombuti had asked them to dig, dirt was blowing around. Water will come out. Ombuti crossed his arms and tilted his head. He needed fresh water to serve his Wakil. He also had to wash his Wakils body that had been covered in unjust blood. Two slaves had been added to support Ombutis sudden servitude. Dig two meters only! Black Mamba said in passing. Jang Shin and Emil, who had been hesitating, began to move. The two took out their shovels that were attached to the pickup and began to dig. Those bastards only move when Wakil orders. Ombuti smiled satisfyingly at Black Mambas back. When the two became tired, Miguel and Mouris took up the shovels. They took turns digging in pairs until they hit the 30-minute mark. Suddenly, a shout of jubilation was heard. Yeaaah! Wet sand began to appear around shoulder deep. As always, Ombutis talent for finding water didnt fail. How do you find water? I just know. At the captains question, Ombuti answered shortly. Ombutis home was the desert. He had been born in the desert and had wandered the desert for several years. His eye for finding water pooling regions and veins of underground water channels had grown naturally. Asking him how he found the water was similar to asking Pele if he knew how to head a football. The team members who were energized began to dig a meter deeper. Water poured out of the ground. A well of around three meters in diameter was made. Wow! The captain also shouted. He hadnt seen water for a week after leaving Trident Rock. They were on the verge of rationing their drinking water, too. Wait! Ombuti grabbed the back of Mikes clothes as he was about to jump into the water. Wakil first. Agreed. Mike conceded without a word. Ombuti filled up a four-gallon plastic water bottle before running to the tent. While Jang Shin and Emil filled up the drinking flasks, the mercenaries, dripping in dirt, began to scratch their bodies without rest. The sweat that had clung to their bodies during the day froze in the nights chilly air. The Saharan winds that blew out of nowhere, attached sands and yellow dirt to their skin and mixed it with their sweat. They, too, were disgusted by their sour smell, but it also called flies and mosquitoes to them. For mercenaries used to the modern era, it was as though they had met another epidemic. The mercenaries ran into the pool of water, disregarding who went first or last. It was the first bath in a week. They realized, for the first time, that washing ones body was one of a humans distinct traits. Black Mamba rolled around his cot without rest. Those small scrapes, scratches, and of course the gash across his calf was nothing. Of course, that was Black Mambas perspective. Chui Do Shik had managed to run even with his neck punctured. The scar that he had received by the leopard in Mt. Bang Tae Sans cave had been ripped anew, causing his intestines to leak out. But such injuries were on the level of scratches. Sudden movements taxed him, but his basic movements hadnt been affected. But he had still become Bellmans patient and the captains concern because of those small injuries. He hadnt been able to refute their argument that his comrades safety would be ensured by his speedy recovery. Well, he did have to maintain a perfect condition to ensure that his team would be able to escape this hell after all. Ombuti took off all of Black Mambas clothes. He soaked a cloth in water and began to wipe off the blood and sweat. Suddenly, his nose twinged. He recalled the memory of wiping down Hae Youngs body in the overnight houses kitchen: the soft skin that smoother than paper, the forest he hadnt been able to take his eyes off, and her beautiful chest, her bright eyes that looked as though they were soaked. She was fine. She had to be fine. He had covered himself in blood to find his mother and to be with her. His brain kept repeating those words, but his reaction swept past his nose and appeared in his eyes. Tears pooled around Black Mambas eyes. Wakil, are you uncomfortable? Ombutis hands became even more careful. He had mistaken Black Mambas reaction as immense pain. Nothing changed because of the careful hands. Black Mamba couldnt laugh or cry, so he pounded his chest out of frustration. A fragment of his memory had flown away thanks to Ombutis insistence. Ombuti. Ill do it. Just stop! Black Mamba finally shouted for the first time. Wakil, please do not steal my happiness. But he, too, couldnt find a way to cure the Tuareg warrior of his stubbornness. Ombuti only left the tent after refilling the 40-liter water bottle twice. Bellman, who had been looking after Chartres, laughed in amusement. Bellman was also wiping down Chartres body with the wrapping cloth. Chartres was always riddled with a high fever. Bellman couldnt leave his spot. Hey, how popular you are. Whats the secret to gaining that old Tuareg warriors love? Chapter 69 - Episode 3: A Desperate Escape Wouldnt it be the same way Bellman gains an old mans love?! Black Mamba returned. His French had improved. Wow, Virgin Guy, your French has gotten better to the point you can make jokes. At least now you can ask a young woman to take off her underwear. Lets go straight to the Shari Meridian Hotel when we return. Tsk! Black Mamba turned his head. Virgin Guy was the nickname his fellow soldiers had called him at Deuxieme Rep. It was from their assumption that he didnt know how to ask a woman to take her underwear off, therefore unable to have sex. It dually teased Black Mamba about his bad French and abstinence from women. But Black Mamba was a pure guy who had decided not to hold any other woman aside from Hae Young. He was also a naive man who believed sex without love was dirty but was also a masochistic man who believed that a man should be able to kill a woman in bed. He didnt touch any of the women because he didnt have the urge. A thrill ran across him only when it was Hae Youngs breath or a fresh pheromone smell drifted off her. When his eyes clashed against the light blue glare of her clear eyes, his consciousness wavered. She absorbed his manhood tenaciously. How was he supposed to hold a woman who chewed on gum even after people begged, a woman with an old stench, a woman whose sweat glands were obvious on her skin and with hair everywhere! Soldiers, especially mercenaries, shoved most of their salaries into a womans hole below and poured it into her mouth at a pub. This was no different for Jang Shin even though he had a wife back in his hometown. Black Mamba was a special case. Even when he headed out towards the Ajaccio city with his friends, he returned to the camp after completing his basic shopping needs. There had been several bets on whether Black Mamba would have sex or not. Most tried to get him extremely drunk, using that scheme to shove a woman in his arms. There had been more violent cases when someone tried to drug him. But Black Mamba didnt get drunk, no matter how much he drank. His extreme physicality dissolved the alcohol at once and pushed it out. No beauty could raise Black Mambas lust. Not even the most beautiful woman in Dae-gu, Chui Min Suk, could seduce Black Mamba in his teenage years. His concentration was the best in the world. Even if he was overcome by lust, he was the type of man to handle it himself rather than be swept up by it. Things like drugs never passed his smell and taste standards. Every attempt to make Black Mamba hold a call girl had failed. He was rumored to be disabled, but soon the nickname of Virgin Guy had been attached in ill intent. He could withstand anything if he was determined to do so, so it was hilarious that rabbits who couldnt even hold back for more than 30 minutes debated his possible ability or disability. When Chartres and Black Mamba came to occupy a tent, its owner had to be chased out. The captain, the one who had his tent taken, decided to use the back seat of the pickup as his bed. Jang Shin was, in that regard, chased to the shade underneath a rock. The captain frequented the tent often on the excuse of checking on Chartres, but it was in fact due to his concern over Black Mambas injuries. It was because if something happened to Black Mamba, not only was Chartres going to be in danger, the entire team was going to be threatened. Even the cold captain began to panic when Chartres condition got worse. He requested a helicopter from the headquarters, but it was refused because one had already been shot down by a STRELA at Er Ekdim. It was an unexpected consequence. The captain didnt know that as a consequence of the prior helicopter, Team Ratel had been thrown away at the conference in Aubagne. He didnt know that Colonel Philip had shoved 100 rescue members into Mondo, either. There was nothing different about a captains tent. The floor was sand with raised supporting beams on top and covered with a yellow-brown pelt. The tent barely kept out the sunlight and sandstorms. The captain stared blankly down at Chartres who was moaning in pain from high fever. A helicopter pilot died, and Chartres was in danger because of his misjudgment. He was about to cry as if someone was going to beat him up. Captain, you remember what I said when the FROLINAT was going after the helicopter, right? You remember what happens if something goes wrong with Chartres, hmmm? Black Mamba made a fist and shook it. The captain stepped back, flinching without realizing it. This was the fist that exploded the northern soldiers head like watermelons. It was the fist that went through human bodies as though they were made of Styrofoam. The weapons that were scarier than any other weapons were that bastards hands and feet. Black, theres no private or airman who threatens to punch their officer to death in any military on Earth, even more so in Legion Etranger. Dont you think youre being too dramatic, you small, tanned thing? The captain complained in a thin voice. Bellman began to suppress his laughter beside him. Black Mamba was lying down and slowly reached for his kukri in his leg belt that he had taken off. He had felt something strangely alive below the tent floor. Unlike the strong killing intent he was sensing, its life force felt small. It was the major characteristic of poisonous reptiles, and it was next to the captains feet. A snipers concentration was on a different tier from normal humans Uh. Black, why are you doing this? Are you crazy? Youre pulling out a sword at such a minor thing? The captain, scared, began to move back with shaking hands. Stop! He was attempting to say Circe(God), but that was too long, so he had blurted out, stop. When the captains foot moved, the sand rose into the air and a long creature jumped out like a spring. The surprised captain was unable to respond, and his eyes only widened. Bellman had watched the whole thing and blood drained out of his face. Flash A blade glinted. Crack The kukri sliced off the reptiles head and landed, embedding itself deeply into the wooden post of Chartres bed. If it had been an inch off its trajectory, the kukri would have landed on Chartres body. A long thing collapsed onto the ground. It was a horned desert viper. The captain took turns staring at the 1.5-meter long, headless, poisonous viper then at Black Mamba. Bellmans face began to regain its color. Ha, it seems like its hiding abilities justifies its horn. Black Mamba exclaimed. The creatures assimilated 100 percent with the sand after crawling into the tent. He had missed its presence. Large vipers like cobras and black mambas had an impossible attack speed. They could attack their prey a meter away in 0.2 seconds. The time for a human to react to a perceived threat takes 0.5 seconds. That could be decreased to 0.3 seconds with training, but that also meant no human on Earth could avoid a vipers surprise attack a meter away. Bellman shook his head. He was more surprised at Black Mambas reaction than the vipers attack itself. He had been able to read the vipers movements and predict the trajectory of his blade all in a single moment. The captains face turned into stone a second later. Nothing could be done if he had been bitten by a large viper. His case would be immediate, but he would not survive without antivenom. He had been able to survive this threat thanks to Black Mamba. Captain, you should buy Black a drink. Ye, yeah. Of course. When did this snake bastard get in the tent anyways? His face turned red, recalling the moment he had lashed out when Black Mamba pulled out his knife. Bellman smiled as though he understood and continued talking through that smile. Ive lit a fire to maintain Chartres condition during the night. It must have crawled in looking for some warmth. Seems like its out of luck having been caught by Black Mamba. If it hadnt been for him, I would have been out of luck. The captain broke out in cold sweat. Damn bastard, say something before you pull your knife out. The captain began to complain. When Black Mamba had reached for his kukri, he had truly been surprised. It was because soldiers who had been exposed to battles and bloodlust often went on a brief rampage or caused violence. Even thinking about Black Mamba going on a rampage made his head cold. How did you know? A bored response answered the captains question. Instinct. Instinct? Sense? Yessir, a sixth sense. Ooh! Sens a rire (sense of humor)! Well, a viper wouldnt be able to reach Black Mambas level of sens a rire after all. The captain and Bellman exclaimed as though they had reached a great understanding. Black Mambas face turned red. He had studied hard, but he still found English more comfortable than French. Of course, that didnt mean his English was fluent, either. He was certainly lacking in the language department. Bellman took up the large viper and observed it with amused curiosity. The kukri had knocked off its head without touching any other vitals, a knife thrown while he was lying down. By now, he was used to these feats, but it was still amazing every time he experienced it. That the viper had managed to fatten itself up in this wasteland was also amazing. Jang Shin! Bellman called. You can cook this, right? No problem Jang Shin smiled, revealing his teeth. Bellman threw the viper at him. If it was Chin duck, he would be capable of turning such a large snake into an edible dish. Black Mamba frustrated with lying down all the time walked out of the tent. Jang Shin was ripping off the vipers skin. A snakes skin was easy to peel off if the skin around the mouth was pulled back to its tail at once. Its intestines fell out, too. Jang Shin rolled the snake with its flesh exposed around the stolen AKs barrel and placed it next to the fire. When he began to turn it like a skewered meal, grease began to drip into the fireplace. A sweet smell began to spread. Jang Shin began to share morsels of the meat with his team members who were watching curiously. He received praise that it was revitalizing. They had once resorted to eating worms during their survival training at Mt. Chinto. No one would refuse snake meat. Chartres, who had woken up from his sleep, walked out of the tent. After eating the roasted meat, he raised his thumb at Jang Shin. His throat had swollen to the point his breaths could be heard. Black Mamba looked at Chartres with a pitying gaze; his life force dimmed day by day. Black Mambas injuries healed rapidly. His wounds had closed in a day and scabbed within two. In three days, the scabs fell off. Bellman had opened the bandages to sterilize his wounds and stared with his mouth hanging open. A muscle that had been torn diagonally required at least three weeks to heal. This was a regenerative ability inexplicable by medical science. Bellman glared at the bumpy scar. He looked as though he was about to shoot lasers from his eyes. Why? You want to try dissecting it? Not that far, but what is the reason? Its because I ate a lot of Korean ginseng. Bellman, too, believed in the better properties of Korean ginseng. But that was ridiculous. Really? And you need to keep in your sexual desires. If you dont let it out, it becomes absorbed by your cells and turns into mitochondria. It was his revenge for calling him, Virgin Guy. You damned bastard! You salty bastard. Bellman raised his fist and shook it. Black Mamba spent a day next to Chartres because he had been able to move when they were eating snake meat, but then suddenly fell into a coma. The captain requested another emergency helicopter, but it was refused. The teams mood darkened. Black! Chartres, you awake? Chartres awoke at the break of dawn. Even his muscle stiffness had turned for the better. His voice was clear. Black, this war isnt ours. Its the war of those old people sitting at their mahogany desks and rolling away from their telephones. I know. I guessed. You can never die and never get hurt. You cannot be swept into those old mens schemes, at such a young age. I get it. Stop talking. Black Mambas heart was aching. It never bodes well when a critical patient suddenly has a turn for the better. Yes. Dont get greedy on stuff like improving your track record. Chartres ignored his advice to save his words. I fight to live. Thats what Ive done since I was young. Its frustrating, Ive been in bed for too long. Chartres kicked around to get up. Black Mamba hurriedly supported him with a large cushion, shoved behind his back. It was an emergency cushion he had made by shoving straws into the concealment sack. Do you know the difference between ants and humans? Im listening. Both ants and humans live in a military organization, share their work, move busily, and cede to those with power. The soldier ants maintain the order of the male and work ants go with the queen as its central power. Did you know there are ranks in working ants, too? I didnt. Black Mamba had known, but he said he didnt. It was to lift Chartres mood. The fact that they battle against their kind in organizations and kill their kind en masse, makes humans and ants similar. But theres a huge difference between the two. In the ant world, those who are old or are male arent treated well. Male ants after finishing their wedding nights are forced out of the group or made to live in harsh conditions. Even the old ants receive the same treatment as those male ants. There is an ant species with a strange name called oecophylla smaragdina in Australia. They force their old ants to work at a field bunk a few ways from their ant house. Youre talking about an elderly vanguard regiment? Chapter 70 - Episode 4: A Desperate Escape Yes. The old ants head out as vanguards to prevent invaders or act as the airborne special forces to invade an enemys camp. Its a tearful act of sacrifice to protect their young descendants and their military organization. Like us. Yes, humans, on the other hand, have the oldies sit safely in the rear while the young are pushed into the battlefield. The old grasp the sweet results while praising those who had died honorably or as sacrifices and those who have bled to their deaths. To those who die, theyd be given a useless piece of metal and a few pounds. If lucky, maybe a grave. Thats right, dont fight for those old people. Fight to protect your precious life. Dont become an old oecophylla smaragdina ant. I really wanted to say this to you. Chartres, Ive understood well and clearly. Thanks. Youre an amazing comrade. I respect you. Black Mamba squeezed the hand of the old intelligent mercenary. It was a redundant story, but it still seeped into his heart. It had been heartfelt advice from someone who truly cared for his young peer. A smile rose in Chartres thin face. To think Id be respected by the legendary Black Mamba, its the best day of my life. Youre smart, considerate, and a young man full of tenacious life. Dont be fooled by the encouragement of those power-hungry men. If they realize your abilities, everyone will try to use you. Dont be fooled by their words, like loyalty or nationality, those idealized words. I know. Im not stupid. Chartres, if you keep talking youll get tired. Black, stop blocking my words. I need to say what I need to say before I die. Youd want to chew up those whove forced us into this corner, dont you? Of course. Im not going to let betrayers and schemers die peacefully. Black Mambas eyes burned as the fire rose from within. He hated betrayers the most. Killing isnt the only answer. The FROLINAT may be an enemy, but theyre not our enemy. They, too, are humans who work for their countrys benefit. You, too, should use those old men. If you kill, you become a murderer, and you will one day receive your due return. Keep making them earn you, and consider yourself precious. You need to find your mother and be happy. To think Id be a burden to my comrades instead of helping, f*ck! Perhaps it was because he spoke too much, but Chartres coughed and his breaths shortened. Thank you for your advice. You are the best comrade and you need to hold on until the helicopter comes. Chartres closed his eyes powerlessly. His life force, which Black Mamba could sense on his wavelengths, began to dim rapidly. Mercenaries existed because of the battlefield, and they were recognized because of their battle abilities. Chartres feared his loss of battle ability more than his injury. And the moment he had decided he had lost it, his will to live had decreased rapidly. Hes lost his will! Black Mamba realized instinctively. Chartres had no family. Their skin colors differed, and their nationalities were different, but he was still a person who had looked after him like a brother. His darkening complexion caused his heart to twist. Chartres had been the first person who had approached him for a conversation in Deuxieme Rep. He had taught him lifes workings and knowledge like an older brother. Chartres had a scholarly face, but he was also an amazing brother and easy to get along with. He must have regained his consciousness out of worry for his younger peer. Black Mamba left the tent after covering Chartres with a pelt. His heart was heavy like a ball of lead. Chartres injury was mainly his responsibility, but guilt tore at him until his insides felt like they were rotting. He was also a mercenary who had death as his friend. Bullets didnt choose humans. Lives could be led in all directions, but death approached all as an equal. He recalled his friends who had been buried in nameless graves after an explosion when he was young. If he died here, no one would be able to find his grave. I wonder when Ill be able to meet my mom! Black Mambas sigh darkened. *** The 22nd day of operation Raccoon, 60 kilometers north of Chicha. Headquarters issued a return order. The problem was that the order asked them to escape to Salal, in Kanem province, by themselves. They stated that there could be no escape aid due to the surface-to-air missiles. The captain ground his teeth. Those f*cking bastards, what is this sh*t. Even Burimer and Mouris, who had silent personalities, werent able to hold back their anger and began to fume. We were pushed back to our original position because of them, but now theyre asking us to get through their defense line? Theyve finally gone mad! F*ck, the commander has lost his mind. A stony shadow fell over the teams faces after they looked over the map. Chicha, which was on Payas side road, was located north-west of the Bodl depression. It was over 600 kilometers to Salal. They hadnt been able to break through the FROLINATs defense line at Kanem and were pushed back north-west. Asking them to reach Salal meant that there would be no help. Black Mamba looked around at his teammates. They all had tired and dark expressions. He had to take them 600 kilometers. There was also Chartres, who couldnt move. How many of them would make it? Those f*cking Russians, and that damned grail! The NATO code name of STRELA 2 was the SA-7 Grail. The STRELA 2 was a delayed deployment one-manned air missile reaching only 4 kilometers in range, but it was enough to threaten a helicopter. Team Jesepes escape route crossed over Koro Taro, New Delhi, Mundo, and NDjamena. The escape route given to Team Ratel was north of Team Jesepes escape route. Their escape route had ultimately been designed to make them shields for Team Jesepe. The captain didnt know that his team was being used as bait to ensure Makumbos safe return. Suddenly, FROLINATs defense line became more fearful. They had been planning to escape through Salal, but the net became tighter day by day. It was to the point they came across scouting units several times per day. Black Mamba, who already sensed their presence, had continuously led their vehicle around them. Team Ratel had descended to Kouba Olanga 100 kilometers south and had been pushed back up towards Chicha. They had been pushed north while trying to avoid the small FROLINAT sentry units. Black Mamba had recommended retreat, but the Captain had declined. He was dissatisfied with the captain who had become an introvert, but it wasnt as though he couldnt understand. The captain had lost three subordinates at once. He didnt fear the battle but never wished to see another subordinate dead. In addition to their injuries, Chartres condition turned for the worse. His stiffening muscles and high fever had knocked him down. When his vocal cords hardened, conversations were impossible. His advice for Black Mamba about being manipulated by the old men became his last words. With a critical patient with them, the teams movements became more difficult. Ombuti, a sandstorm is coming. His resonance waves had become a new sense. He could automatically grasp the changes of humidity and wind in the air. You can feel sandstorms, Wakil, youve become one of us, part of the Tuareg tribe. Ill find shelter immediately. Ombuti was surprised. His Wakil was an amazing person, no matter how many times he saw him. Where is this? Its called Djourab Erg. It should be around 40 thousand square feet. Its the most useless, driest land in all of the Sahel. If you head in towards Djourab Erg, there should be a region full of dunes. This place feels more like mud than dry sand. It is said that a large river ran through this place in the past. The river has mixed the sand and mud. Black Mamba paused, and expelled his resonance waves. He could feel a large vein deep inside the ground. It wasnt precise, but he could feel the absorbing mudflats and sands up ahead. If the vehicle landed on top of those, it would be swallowed instantly. Ombuti, go around 300 meters to the right. Understood. Its Wakils decision. We move 300 meters to the right from this point. Each vehicle follows closely. Roger. Ombuti didnt argue or question when it was Black Mamba talking. Left 45 degrees. Right 30 degrees. Black Mamba kept ordering the directions. Ombuti, it seems like there would be a lot of accidents in Djourab Erg. Youre right. Theres a lot of quicksand around here. Sometimes, when theres a full moon, people get buried underneath sandstorms. Surprising. Im more surprised at Wakils ability to avoid the hidden quicksands and whirlpools. I should be able to do at least this much to have a Tuareg warrior as a servant. Black Mamba smiled. Ombuti took a look at his owners face through the rear-view mirror before his face rippled with creases. I will do my best not to besmirch my owners name. Black Mamba grasped the back of his neck at the old servants reply. He had taken the joke too seriously. Those bastards will have a hard time hauling the bikes and panzers over. Its difficult for those who do not know the path, but its too early to let our guard down since they are used to this region, as well. Black Mamba was worried. Even the captains condition was worsening. The only normal person in their group was Ombuti. All the other badgers who had been thrown in the Sahel had lost their teeth. He sighed automatically at the thought of hauling around a sick badger on top of that. Ombuti avoided the quicksands narrowly and led the first car deep into Djourab Erg, a large sand desert located north of Chad, south of Paya. Its 20 kilometers wide and 200 kilometers long, but it is not connected to the Sahara. Slowly, a foreign sight was revealed. Ombuti hadnt been wrong when he said the place would be different. A desert without a drop of water was spread out before him. What a place! Their environment he had seen so far had been deserted, but Djourab Erg was beyond his imagination. Low mountains of sand filled the horizon in a pattern, as though a giant had gathered and thrown lumps of sand around. On the other side were dunes made from the wind overlapping like the flow of water, making it look like a large saw. There wasnt a speck of blue to be found. Not even the acacia trees, which could be found everywhere in the Sahel, existed. Only the dark red sandstones and shades of brown sand that their wheels got stuck in, were spread around. Ombuti stopped the pickup underneath a large cliff. Burimer, Mike, Jang Shin, and Emil were still in decent condition and began to set up camp. Huh! How tall is this thing? Black Mamba looked up at the large cliff that had sprouted from its roots in the clay grounds. It wasnt a cliff but a large concave of a rock that had been whittled down by sandstorms. The rock which sprouted vertically like a folding screen looked over a 100 meters tall. It was hard to even compare the eagle rock at his hometowns bridge to its size. Looks like sedimentary rock, but the top is gneiss, and the bottoms mixed with limestone. Its going to crash after some time. Black Mamba searched the sand, knocked on the rocks, and even smelled some with his nose buried in them. Africa was a tiring but interesting continent. It was a continent of greed and wildlife, where, regardless of human or animal, only the strong survived. To the north were endless deserts, which compared to the breadth of the U.S. To the west, was a rainforest the size of India. To the south were thousands of kilometers of plains. This place that frazzled their nerves was the frontier of the empty, dry Sahara. But he didnt know such a dry place existed. Black Mamba had a curious nature, and when he concentrated on a new object, he tended to forget the flow of time. Burimer, Blacks certainly different. Hes warming up by investigating the region voluntarily, even when hed been told to rest. Hes the textbook example of a mercenary. They should all look up to him. What? A textbook example of a mercenary? Did you have a stroke? Jang Shin, who had been listening to the captain and Burimers conversation, found it ridiculous. Black Mambas actions stemmed from his curiosity. His actions were no different from a childs whod gained a new toy. He worried about their states of mind as they exclaimed praises. Damn, one bastards sh*t is prettier than others, is that it? Jang Shin, who suddenly turned angry, began to dig the ground violently. The faster he set up camp, the faster he would be able to fill his stomach. A sandstorm began to form. Bodls sandstorms, which stopped at blinding their sights, was nothing compared to this. The sky and earth were filled with sand, and their sight neared zero. The wind didnt scream but echoed like thunder. It was the sound of the sand scratching the grounds surface. Ughhh, its annoying, so annoying! Mike wore his goggles in a hurry as he shook his head with distaste. This is the reason why those camels have such long lashes. Jang Shin also shook his head with distaste as he wore his goggles. The mercenaries had gotten used to the Sahel but became weary of Djourab Ergs sandstorms. They wrapped the litams around themselves more tightly before pressing the goggles around their heads. The minuscule sand and dust were the primary enemies against maintaining their good conditions. It could cause eye disease, bronchitis, laryngitis, and pneumonia. For mercenaries, their body was their wealth. They had to protect their wealth. Chapter 71 - Episode 5: A Desperate Escape The violent sandstorm was gradually calming. This weather was unique to Djourab Erg. The winds changed rapidly. A sudden storm was prone to send objects flying hundreds of meters away and those winds that raged as though they could blow away camels would suddenly change into a gentle breeze. Now, lets begin. Burimer conducted. The entire team worked to scatter the landmines against the trip wires and installed claymore mines. Mouris planned the distance and direction, while Burimer marked down each ones buried location on a status plate with a red pen. They had to collect their mines when they moved. That collection task was tedious. There was a supply issue, but the Mitterrand government had taken the lead in creating a compromising ban on mines, so they had to collect them to avoid national criticism. It was a bothersome and difficult task, but no one complained because it was better than dying from a FROLINATs bayonet while sleeping. Aside from Black Mamba, the entire team was bound to die when they faced several of them in close-range combat. A strange human, like Black Mamba who fought a hundred-on-one, only existed in movies. Mouris, how many sets of claymores did you install? I set up 8 in total around the 300-meter front, at a distance of 15 meters each. And the mines? I placed doubles of 50 sets around 400 and 350 meters. The captain decided that the front 400 meters would be their first line of defense. Mouris directed the team to bury FM6a mines around the defense line. The FM6a mine was created by Frances GIAT and based on the American M16a2 antipersonnel mine. It was the same mine, but the FM6a weighed only 500 grams, a peanut compared to the 4.1-kilogram M16a2. As a defensive weapon, the FM6a was concentrated for resistance rather than an attack mechanism. More explosions meant more casualties. The FM6a, loyal to its purpose was one of the few effective French-made weapons that the captain acknowledged The team buried the mines and began digging trenches. Even Black Mamba joined in when they began to dig trenches. The shoveling skills that he had practiced since he was seven had been recognized even on the bridge. Black Mamba was not the most confident in sniping but in using the ax and shovel. His strong physique and long experience shone its light in the midst of slaving away. Pat Whisk Pat Whisk His actions of sticking the shovel into the sand and removing it flowed like water. While two of this team managed to dig one trench, he, alone, dug two. His physique was 18 times the human average. As he whisked the shovel around with frightening power and speed, his teammates watched him from afar. Is he even human? Mouris murmured to himself with a pinched expression. Would that be possible if I raised a hundred stray dogs? Bellman also whispered. What are you guys doing? Organize the trenches that Black Mamba dug and connect them with pathways. Should I kick your *ss? Mike scolded his teammates. The captains expression was extremely dark. The camp was set below the tall stone so it would have fewer temperature fluctuations and higher moisture, but his anxiousness was fanned by the gathering of unusual factors. Burimer, do you think I made another mistake? Dont concern yourself. Whether you did or didnt, there wasnt a choice. We cannot leave Chartres with his high fever out in direct sunlight or heat waves. Burimer cut off the captains worries. His darkness lifted slightly. Higher terrain was naturally advantageous for defense, but they had set up camp in lower terrain for Chartres and worry started to swell. Burimer, I dont feel good about this. Is it because of the caravan we saw during the day? I should have shot it. Why did you stop Black Mamba? I dont know! Was it because of the woman? Hm! The captain cleared his throat without replying. In the caravan of five camels and six people, there had been a young woman mixed in. He had stopped Black Mamba who had pulled out his Glock. The moment he looked at the womans eyes, he had recalled his dead wife. Captain, youre making a mistake. Black Mamba had warned him, but he had dismissed it. The moment those clear eyes had invaded his heart, the captain had been unable to kill them. Dont worry too much. There isnt any evidence that theyre informants after all. Burimer reassured me. No, Black Mamba isnt someone who kills randomly. There is a reason why he pulled out his gun. Its something that already happened. Its nothing new when theres a battle every time our eyes open. We have Black Mamba. We just need to fortify our defenses. The captain recalled the way Black Mambas eyes had glinted when he told him that he was making a mistake. That damned bastard! Hes threatening an officer on a whim just because his fist is strong. How am I supposed to survive military life scared of a foot soldier? The captain rambled on about things that stupid Korean veterans said daily. It seemed as though, whether one was Asian or Western, military uniforms made them all the same. The bastard who had threatened his officer on a whim was next to Chartres. If muscle stiffness increased, the body twisted on itself. Pain was pain, but the danger of being injured also increased. Chartres neck and face muscles had diminished immensely. He wasnt able to drink water properly anymore. They were in the wild. If he didnt consume enough water, that became a scientific death in and of itself. Damn, this is acute tetanus for sure. Tetanus dormant state was around 3 to 20 days. The piece of grenade stuck in his body had begun to cause a reaction. Those f*ckeres! They should have used a cleaner grenade. You bastard, why are you being an idiot when Im already frustrated? Go light the fire. Bellman chased out Emil who was talking this nonsensical stuff. Ke. Kegh. The sound of Chartres voice splitting rang in the air. F*ck, I need to feed him water. If he continues, hes going to bite his tongue. Bellman, turning anxious, soaked the bandages and made Chartres hold them with his mouth. It was the only thing he could do in the middle of a desert. Are there no medicines for him? Mike asked worriedly. Ive injected him with pentobarbital and penicillin. But they arent effective since his immunity was compromised too much. Bellmans expression darkened the more Chartres breaths roughened. He called for Black Mamba. Black, we need to call a helicopter. Its already been requested. Is it coming? Bellman was anxious to the point his hand seemed to poke out of his throat. Ill check. Hurry. He needs immediate aid. I got it. The reply came from 10 meters beyond. Unfortunately, the captain and Black Mamba didnt know what decision they had come to in the Aubagne Headquarters conference. The Department of Defence and the DGSE had already deemed the mercenaries deployed and had stopped caring. Colonel Philip was held responsible by the higher-ups and had to hand over Team Ratels strategic rights to the Airborne regiment. He had pushed a rescue team into the Sahel on his own and wrote a false report. The information that had been delivered to Philip was faked or cut off. The captains helicopter request was dismissed by the operation commanders hands. The helicopter hadnt even been sent. Captain, where is the helicopter? When Black Mamba shouted, the entire ground shook. The captain who had been checking over the defense formation frowned. They said theyre heading out in two hours. Considering the flight time, they would be arriving in five. Is Chartres condition critical? Bellman said its acute tetanus. He has to be sent to the emergency room immediately. The captains face crumpled like a devils. Unable to overcome his emotions he threw his Famas to the ground. Sh*t, these f*ckers! Dirty bastards! The captain exploded in anger towards an uncertain target. His insides were boiling, but he didnt know who to curse at. He found his calm after a few heaves of his shoulders. The team would be in danger if its leader was shaken by emotions. Black, the teams safety is foremost. Leave Chartres to Bellman, and go check the outer defense lines. But Its an order. Black. Your place isnt next to Chartres. There are eight other comrades that you need to protect. Dont forget that this place is a Fond Rouge (Red Ground). Black Mamba immediately snapped to attention. Understood. His team leader was right. This wasnt the time to whine, swept away by emotions. It was time to decide and move critically. You didnt forget my words either, right? At Black Mambas eerie tone, the captain flinched. The warning to prepare himself when something went wrong with Chartres swept across his mind. He had also been warned when he left the helicopter to be shot down at Er Ekdim valley. Chartres, do not die. If you die, Ill be beaten up by some inhuman guy. F*cking bastard. Hes threatening me at every turn. The captain truly wished for Chartres well being as he looked at Black Mambas as he drifted further beyond. Thinking about his position, an officer who was trying his best not to be beaten up by an airman, he sighed. He had long lost his composure, but if anyone saw how Mike had been beaten up, even Commander Dimanche would have saved his hide. F*ck, I shouldnt have stopped Black Mamba. The captains expression wavered nervously. The thought of the six locals who had passed by on the camels refused to leave his mind. He had made a decision based on his emotions, unlike a leader. Black Mambas words berating him for making a mistake kept ringing around his ears. He couldnt kill unarmed locals based on suspicions, but Black Mamba wasnt the type to say random things. Even if it wasnt them, theres plenty of sentries lying around Borkou. The captain reassured himself. Black Mamba had managed to kill three teams, a total of 15 people, during the move today. The captain was still anxious. His battle instincts kept sending a red signal. Black, how do you feel? You can appear freely too: Those like you Ive never hated. Of all the spirits who deny, its you, The jester, whos most lightly weighted. Mans energies all too soon seek the level; he quickly desires unbroken slumber, so I gave him you to join the number, to move, and work, and play the devil. The first verse of Faust rolled out of Black Mambas mouth. You damned bastard! It was a leisurely speech, but despite its serenity, it meant that the enemy was coming. It simultaneously mocked him, the irony of a Korean bastard reciting Faust. The captain gathered the team and gave another warning. My instincts tell me something bads about to happen. Their activities have suddenly increased. We need to prepare for the worst. Have as many hand grenades on you. Dont light any fires, and make sure everyones on guard. It seems like Black angered Habib thoroughly. Yes, sir. Black Mamba, youre in charge of the rear. Their signature move is attacking at both sides. Ombuti, since theres a lack of members, help Jang Shin, like last time. Okay. Burimer, are there any more grenade launchers? If youre talking about the ASG17, theres around 40 left. You take care of that like last time. It may be humiliating, but hes the best at it. Yes, sir. Black Mamba elbowed the captain. Captain, you dont have to be nervous. If some deniable spirits come, we can just beat them up. The team has to rest to regain their battle capabilities. Ill guard. Have everyone take a good rest. Mm, Black, your condition has to be in top shape. Dont worry. I know my body well. Black Mamba pointed at the faraway rock. I can look out up to eight kilometers. Theres no problem. The captain looked at Black Mamba and the rock then nodded his head. Black will be on guard duty today. Everyone dismissed. Wow! Everyones expressions changed into delight. Black Mamba was a human radar. If he was on guard duty, they could sleep without worries. The entire team on guard duty wouldnt match one Black Mamba. The mercenaries watched Black Mamba scale the cliff. It was vertical, around 100 meters high. His left and right sides moved in sync like a lizard as he scaled the rock and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Chapter 72 - Episode 6: A Desperate Escape His talents are wasted. He should get rid of that Kepi Blanc and climb Mt. Everest. I suppose if he climbs like that, he could conquer Mt. Everest within a day. Hed be able to earn so much money if he gets sponsored. Wouldnt he earn more if he competed in the Olympics? Whats the point? He doesnt know how to use it. Right. Hes a virgin with a chastity belt. He doesnt know women, doesnt know alcohol, doesnt know how to gamble. Ive no idea what he does for fun in his life. Wouldnt he live for killing? There were seven guerrillas in Er Ekdim with their heads sliced off. Do you suppose he dips his bread in blood when were not looking? Dont the Chinese eat humans too? Emil and Jang Shin exchanged a meaningless conversation. The mercenaries who had been listening in shook their heads. They couldnt distinguish whether the two rookies were immature or fearless. Damn, the bread crumbs I spilled in the Legion Boutique (a small restaurant inside the Deuxieme Rep) are more than what they ate, but theyve left their fear back in Corsica, Burimer complained. The Angel of Death, the Explosives Devil, the Minimi Sniper. Theyd earn heaps of cash if they formed an independent mercenary group. Do you think theyd let me join? There was a tinge of true desire in Bellmans tone. The desert night deepened. The sandstorms calmed. The slightly sharp moon scattered its light while holding on to its halo. Their first day of the operation was last month. They could tell when a fortnight had passed by simply staring up at the moon. At 100 meters high, there werent any flies or mosquitoes. Black Mamba positioned himself alone atop the high cliff like a statue. The Djourab Erg seen from up high gifted him with different scenery. He could see all of Erg in one view. There was no need for night goggles. The moonlight was enough. The endless dunes clashed against the cluster of stars on the horizon. The stars and dunes entangled themselves. Whether it was the stars that were being absorbed by the dunes, or the dunes jumping into the stars, a painting of the beginning was laid before him. To think animals lived in such dry land! An unknown animals cry howled endlessly. Sometimes, the supporting beams of the tent creaked, dragging the deserts silence more deeply into the night. Despite being void of even one blade of grass, he respected those who continued to survive in this place. He recalled his hometown with its clear water and ample mountains. He hadnt wanted much. He had dreamt of becoming a scholar after studying diligently. He wanted to spread a blanket and write poems underneath the peach tree in his house by the bridge. He wanted to find his mother and ask why she had abandoned him. No, he wanted to show her how well hed grown. He wanted to eat his mothers warm rice and soup. How did he end up in a rain of blood, thousands of kilometers away in a foreign land? The days had been a continuation of treading between life and death. Days of reaping lives and soaking the ground in blood. The place he had come to, to live like a human, was hell. Sadness welled up at the irony of having to kill humans to live like one. He recalled the days when he had trained underneath his masters violent staff as though it was yesterday. He wondered whether the Dolly Varden trout that he used to eat by Mt. Chung Saengs river were doing well. Those trout were classified as salmon because they died shortly after spawning. One, which he wasnt sure if it was a rare one that survived spawning or a male, had been two feet long. No matter how much they grew, Dolly Varden trouts usually stopped growing at nine inches. He had considered throwing that one in his spicy soup bowl but allowed it to live its due life. He had always checked how well it was doing every time he bathed in the river. Connections were made like that. What am I doing here? His Master had always emphasized thinking. What do those fake monks do while they sit in that serious position? Well, they wrap it up nicely, mentioning zen, or mediation, but all anyone does is think. They think of climbing on top of prostitutes and head down to gather a bunch of offerings. Even those fake priests with nothing to do think of making it big one day, so what do you think those secular ones do? Think a lot. If you think, answers come, and decisions can be made. You sometimes contemplate whether that b*tch that you call your aunt should be strangled or sliced, dont you? If you think some more, the answer will come. Hahaha! Bang His head rang. He had forgotten about Jang. He had crawled into this hell because of that dirty b*itch. He hadnt been able to erase the evil woman from his mind because she was his aunt! Would I have felt better if I buried that woman? He remembered the day he dug a hole at Mt. Chung Saeng to bury that assistant who had been allowed to live thanks to his master showing up. If he had buried that man, he would have buried Jang, too, for certain. He remembered Chartres advice, of how the killing wasnt everything. Chartres was right. She was a human worth killing, but with time, he realized that didnt have to be the case. The method which Chartres taught him, of making her owe up to her debt for a long time, seemed right. He had saved one life worth killing and had become a murderer reaping innocent lives in some random land thousands of kilometers away. There couldnt have been a human who reaped as many lives, in a short time, as he did. Was he truly cursed at birth, as Jang said? Could he return to his hometown safely? He wanted to eat Hae Soons Doenjang-jjigae so badly, it drove him mad. He missed his masters stinging staff. How was Hae Young? Was she studying hard? Was she healthy? She must have gained a man. He had heard that in the States, a man and womans relationship was as free as it was in France. She must have someone, white or black. Itd be lonely otherwise. It was only after he left his masters side that he felt his masters love. It was because of him that he had been able to swim out of the deep ravine called Hae Young. With his staff, he had shattered the hardened past his student carried around like a rock. It was his master who used to give all of his offering rice elsewhere and return with rocks in the empty bag. He wondered whether he was even praying at his age, well over 80. Namuamitabul Gwanseumbosal! A Buddhist phrase rolled out without him realizing. The sandstorm began to grow once more. It was Djourab Ergs capriciousness. The weather was hard to predict. A strand of sand covered the moonlight. The desert that had been shining became dark once more. That damned wind. Black Mamba put on his goggles instead of the night viewer. He couldnt adjust to the sandstorms. The wind was strong, so much so that the large rock rang. Black Mamba, unable to bear the brunt on top of the rock, ultimately climbed back down. Around the time Team Ratel had entered Djourab Erg, Habib was waiting for a guest in his mansion. Sir, Ive been told that the chairmans car had just passed Pangaro. Habib received his butlers report and nodded his head. Pangaro was the first checkpoint from the entrance of the road leading up to his mansion. It had been made in a zig-zag pattern to prevent someone from speeding to the mansion. It took five minutes to reach it. Habibs huge mansion was located in the Undgar region of Paya Largo, but it was only after the car passed 300 meters in from the entrance, on the path, that it could greet the mansions walls. Habibs Romanesque, two-story, white mansion was hidden by a large array of trees. It was a rare sight in Paya, which didnt get a single drop of rain all year. Noel Habib was a member of the highest council in power within FROLINAT, the Council of 11. It had the most voting power, consisting of military figureheads that moved the FROLINAT as a whole. Habib was wearing a yellow-brown uniform and exuded strong features unique to those who were Tibesti Arabs. The dark, burnt face, thick curls, deep-seated eyes, and slightly widened nose were the traditional features of the Arab locals who lived on the Tibesti mountain range. Habib was the boss who led the Hawkish Faction of the Council of 11. He was waiting for the head of the Dovish Faction, a council member, and Chairman Tombye. A secret meeting had been established on Habibs request. Habib sat on the wooden chair on his terrace and lifted a cigar. His butler immediately cut the edge and lit it. Habibs face wasnt bright. Whether it was raccoons or badgers, some unknown group had messed up his plans. Where did it go wrong? The smoke expelled from Habib floated out of the terrace. The plan surrounding Makumbo had been made by the Hawkish Faction of the Council of 11 to alter the phase of affairs. The leaders were Habib and Goukouni. Buying time was the main factor of Habibs established plan. When France began interfering with Chads internal affairs, once more, the FROLINAT sphere of power began to feel threatened. Its power was stronger than Habres government, but there wasnt a noticeable difference. If France supported Habre, then purely, with the influence of FROLINAT alone, theyd be hard to bear. Even the national media turned against the FROLINAT. It was because the northern army had plundered NDjamena. They needed time for the FROLINATs best military leaders, Goukouni and Habib, to unite their forces. And to unite their forces, they needed Gaddafis military reinforcements. The main vein of his established plan was simple. He, Goukouni, and Makumbo would share roles. Habib was responsible for controlling the Habre army, Goukouni was responsible for Gaddafis reinforcements, and Makumbo was responsible for blocking the French militarys movements to enter Chad, all to gain time. Makumbo would turn and suggest an alliance with Habres army. France, who was feeling the pressure in military deployment, wouldnt refuse. Habib would begin tailing them to erase the betrayer. France would begin its operations to save Makumbo. Makumbo would keep buying time by changing his location continuously. Habib would pretend to chase after Makumbo, but in reality, erase Frances special forces as they were deployed. As long as Makumbo and he bought time, Goukouni would be able to receive Gaddafis aid of soldiers and weapons. Then, they would unite the moderate factions military strength and increase the speed of FROLINATs revolution. Once the gauge of a revolution was filled, theyd destroy the governments army and control it, at once. And then, theyd enslave the southern greasy bastards as they had done before. That was the backstory of the Makumbo case. But the successfully proceeding plan had suddenly flipped on its head. The French special forces had broken his army and flipped the Sahel around. While he was chasing after them, Makumbo disappeared. Habib felt deeply suspicious of Makumbos sudden disappearance and the lack of contact. Hes here! A yellow Jeep arrived in front of his mansion. It was the GAZ69A four-wheel-drive Jeep that had been produced by the Soviets since 1972. Habib ran down the stairs swiftly. An Arab dressed in a traditional brown Gandourah came out. Assalamu alaykum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuhu (May Allahs peace, mercy, and blessings be upon you). Tombye, its nice to meet you. Wa Allahaykumut salam wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuhu (May Allahs peace, mercy, and blessings be upon you, too). Its nice to meet you, Habib. Tombye, who possessed peaceful features, was a member of the Council of the 11 and followed a different line from Habib as the leader of the Dovish Faction. A soulless, formal greeting and blessing was exchanged between the two. Tombye didnt look comfortable. Habib was the head of the violent military sector of the FROLINAT, the FAP. Habib was prone to execute violent military actions, and even the expressions of those military activities people had toned down. In reality, the criminal activities involved plundering and kidnapping. He was the reason that many tribes that had once supported the FROLINAT turned their backs to support Hissne Habr. Losing the peoples trust would lead to the crumbling of the FROLINATs foundation. Tombye often criticized violent military activities, but Habib didnt even snort. Tombye found the fact that he was even meeting with rough and violent Habib distasteful. Habib led Tombye to the large second-floor terrace. The butler brought out some tea and simple dishes, but the two didnt even look at him. Chairman, weve been fooled by Makumbo and our countrymen. Im sure that the French special forces are currently tracking Makumbos bait. Another team must have made contact with him. Makumbo should already be in Kanem Province or NDjamena. That bastard should be enjoying his Chateau Mouton-Rothschild* with Robert Tanshe by now. Perhaps laughing until his mouth splits. *Chateau Mouton Rothschild is a product of Bordeaux, France, and one of the three French generations of wine. It became famous in 1924 for putting famous artists paintings on its labels: Picasso, Matisse, Dal, Mir, Chagall, Cocteau, Kandinsky, and others, were featured. Depending on its vintage, it could be sold for 5,000,000 to 400,000,000 Won in South Korea. Chapter 73 - , Episode 7: A Desperate Escape Habibs arrogant eyes flickered with violent rage. What a dirty murderer. Tombye avoided Habibs gleaming eyes. Habibs cold personality and racism towards tribes had caused people to lose their faith in the FROLINAT. Although they were in the same boat, Tombye felt as though Habib was a ticking time bomb. Habib, calm down. You are the creator of this plan. Makumbo has been with us for many years. I believe that he is faithfully following the plan to give us more time. Ive received reports that the French special forces called The Badgers are still sweeping through Sahel. Ive also heard that there were many losses on our side. Tombye didnt like Habibs violent behavior and how he distrusted Makumbo. The FROLINAT, without trust, was bound to crumble if the brotherhood didnt remain solid and united. Habibs eagle eyes flashed with anger. Chairman, thats the thing. Theyre definitely bait. Weve been lured into a battlefront on both sides. Robert Tanshe had thrown the Ratel at us to cause a diversion and took Makumbo. Do you have evidence proving those bastards are bait? In the beginning, I wasnt sure that they were. Considering their immense strength and the information I received from Gaddafi, I didnt think of them as a decoy. However, they definitely are. Its been three days since Ive lost contact with Makumbo, and the Ratel have remained sweeping through Sahel. Isnt there a possibility that those Ratel people kidnapped Makumbo? Its small, but that is a possibility. However, I am still convinced that Makumbo has betrayed us. I dont believe any of this. Ive heard that our forces suffered losses in the hundreds. Do you think it makes sense to use such a large battle force as bait? Habib felt bitter as he began to think of the losses. Their strength was immense to the point that even he became uncertain after receiving the reports. He wanted to chew Ahmud out for making him look like a fool in front of the old man. I didnt think that those bastards were bait since their battle strength was so large. The losses weve suffered at their hands amount to over 700 soldiers. No, thats impossible. Are you saying that youve suffered so much from just a few frogs? Those 3000 soldiers, who were trained by the Northern Joseonese torture officers, were crushed by a handful of special forces members? Ha, my, my, I cant believe it! Hahaha! Tombye clicked his tongue and expressed his surprise with laughter. This f****** old bastard! Habib gritted his teeth discreetly. He found the old mans pretense of ignorance, even after he had already received all the reports, hateful. He was an old man who would have cheered at the prospect of the hawkish factions weakened power. Chairman, the information given to you was wrong. They are the Legion Etrangers Deuxieme Rep, who are known to be battle machines. Ive received a report that several companies had moved separately in teams, equipped themselves with heavy weapons, and gathered once a battle occurred. Habib believed the report Ahmud and Payze gave him to the very last word. Since he was unaware of Black Mambas existence, he could only make the wrong assumptions. He had been given information on how the French special forces team called Ratel was about the size of a squadron from Libyas intelligence department, but Habib dismissed it. A squadron sized special forces team had swarmed Sahel? This didnt sound believable. There was a limit to how much a soldier could gain from training. So, it didnt make sense that ten or so special forces soldiers erased Mustas independent battalion and destroyed Ahmud. Hm, this hurts our pride. To think three main armies were defeated by mere frogs. What do you plan to do? I must catch them no matter what. I must hang their heads on the front gate of Tibesti headquarters no matter what it costs me. Habib gathered even more strength in his blazing eyes and glared at Tombye. His bloodshot eyes were filled with madness. Tombye wished to leave the place immediately. He had received a report that Habib had suffered a major military loss, but he hadnt known the loss was over 700 soldiers. Laughter pushed up his throat at Habibs actions and at the sight of him jumping around in his seat. I see, council member Habib, your military loss was great. I didnt know. If you are lacking soldiers, Ill ask the other council members to help you. So, make sure you catch those bastards. Thank you. At Tombyes uncaring offer, Habibs insides began to boil. He wanted to embed a bullet inside him for mocking him by offering help at this point. If they had gathered their forces when he had first asked, he would have been able to set a trap and would have long killed those bastards. What are you planning to do about tracking down Makumbo? At Tombyes question, Habib shook his head. Makumbo has already left by another route. Its less likely, but theres also a possibility that the Ratel team is protecting him. Im planning to destroy the other forces trying to escape to Kanem by reinforcing my own. If they all die, then Makumbos worth will also drop. And wed have to herd those Ratel bastards to end them. If they had been protecting Makumbo, it would be killing two birds with one stone. Chairman, youd have to aid us with some of your forces. I understand. Ill gain the help of the other members. Thank you. Wheres council member Goukouni right now? Hes awaiting Gaddafis reinforcements down at Zaura. Zaura? Habib repeated. He had received a report from Payze that Goukounis army had settled at Zaura recently. Chairman, dont trust Goukouni too much. Theres a possibility that he is also enjoying a glass of Chateau Mouton Rothschild with Tanshe and Makumbo. Habib, dont share your extreme opinions. Your words can be taken as purposeful dissension. Tombyes face shimmered with unpleasantness. Habibs words had crossed the line. Those were words that could create trouble between armies. Chairman, go check if Goukounis FAP is in Zaura right now. Ill bet my entire fortune that Goukounis army isnt there. Habib didnt step down. The FROLINAT was bounded together by compromises. As long as he had greater benefits for himself, he was prepared to turn his back on them immediately. Therefore, the possibility that Goukouni had turned his own back on them after reading the current flow of events was high. Tombye, who stared at Habib with dissatisfaction, picked up the phone. He ordered his subordinate to check whether Goukounis army was in Zaura, then hung up. Habib threw his tired body upon the sofa. The two men paused their conversation and fell into their own thoughts. That idiotic dovish party had been pursued by the national media and left NDjamena to retreat into the northern regions. Since then, they had been cornered. Chairman, we should have pushed down south when we had NDjamena in our grasp. If we had pushed south towards Lark and Hadjer-Lamis back then, France and the U.S. would have sent armies. If the Peoples Army hadnt plundered NDjamena and killed its residents, the national media wouldnt have worsened either. Habib exploded in frustration after hearing his indifferent response. If your dovish party hadnt requested a larger portion, that wouldnt have happened. How does the suggestion to create coalitions based on the population turn into a request for more portions? Your idea of bringing in outsiders is a problem. I cant stand the sight of those slaves acting as though theyre the owners of Chad. The slaves have taken over the fertile south, while the actual owners, the northern warriors, are made to fight for their lives at the Tibesti mountain range and the Sahel. Meanwhile, the slaves are growing a handful of goats and digging murky wells. The debate began once more. Tombyes head ached. The final goal of the FROLINAT was to establish an independent government against outside forces. The FAP had insisted on an Arab-based government with pride as their cause. The FAPs goal was to regain their pride and establish a military-power based government. In the past, even the Muslim fishers by Chad Lake had four to five southern slaves under their command. Habib was someone who was chained by the past. He saw those southern blacks as traitorous slaves and didnt recognize their citizenship. Habibs goal was to conquer the fertile south and enslave the Christians like in the past. Enough. Lets be honest, both you and I are bloodthirsty men who are trying to expand our influence to gain central power. When Tombye took a step back, Habib closed his mouth. Are you certain that Makumbo has betrayed us? Makumbo is a sly fox. If Goukouni received Gaddafis reinforcements faster, we could have moved according to our original plan. France has reinforced Clemenceau and moved foot soldiers into the capital. Makumbo, who saw this change, has attached himself to France. If not, there would have been no reason for the communication to stop.The Ratel are the cause of this chaos. Those f****** bastards! Hm! Tombye sighed deeply and closed his mouth. Habib didnt open his mouth again. He was waiting for the situational report on Er Ekdim Valley. Newly founded rage rushed in. He found those bastards called Ratel even more hateful than the betrayers Makumbo and Goukouni. The plan they had been following to the letter was now tangled up like palm leaves. Habib shook his head. This situation was as a complicated as the Gordian knot. The big problem was the FROLINATs careless combination of material goods. The bastards who had jumped between their attempts to change their combination from material to chemical were the Ratel. The Ratel team had interfered when he was about to get rid of Goukouni after noticing his change of heart. While he was dealing with them, he had lost communication with Makumbo. The sheer amount of military loss he had suffered at their hands totaled two battalions. Now, due to his pride, he couldnt forgive them. From those in the FROLINATs army who had fought against the Ratel team, only a few had survived. Each one of those guerrilla warriors who had survived shivered in fear as they believed Black Mamba was responsible for this travesty. They referred to Black Mamba, who created incomprehensible deaths everywhere, as Kanma, Reuhur, or Azrael. Kanma and Reuhur were thought to be humans who were reincarnated as the South African traditional spirit Roa. They were magical beings that caused calamities and deaths in a South African language. The Kanma was a more realistic and cold-blooded being than Reuhur and was known as an immortal who drank human blood and filled its stomach with human flesh. Habib laughed at the rising Kanma rumors that were spreading rapidly across Sahel. Desert tribes originally believed in many myths, revering and fearing the existence of supernatural beings. The harsher the climate humans lived in, the more they believed in myths and revered cruel tribal gods. The rumors of the Kanma, which was spreading across Sahel, was nothing less than dumbfounding. There were rumors that the Kanma had sent one platoon to Allah in a single breath, made bullets curve around obstacles to meet their target, and that soldiers were crushed by rocks larger than elephants when they fought back. Those were all exaggerations the defeated cowards had spread. Those idiots. Habib gritted his teeth. His army had become a mess by chasing after that group of frogs. Due to Musta and Ahmuds failure, he was even being mocked by an old man like Tombye. Makumbo had escaped through their grasps. Makumbo hadnt acted as though he had betrayed them, but he had truly turned coats. Habibs theory, aside from the part regarding the Ratel team, was close to the truth. Ring- The phone rang. Tombye picked up the phone. He handed it over to Habib without a word. It wasnt a call regarding Goukounis whereabouts. Oohu, yaallayihi! Habib, who had been listening to the report, leaped to his feet and began to yell. His face had been gone pale from shock. What happened to the frogs there are no corpses? F****** s***, what about Payze? Everyones dead, and only one with a critical injury survived?! What! Just one bastard? What are you talking about?! The Kanma flew all night? Habibs hand, which was holding onto the phone, shook. A surface-to-air missile, grenade launcher, and 120 desert warriors with RPG 20s were massacred by a single person?! You want me to believe that? You call this a report?! Crash! Habib threw down the phone. He collapsed onto the wooden chair as his strength left him. His head was buzzing. The personal air defense team and Payzes scouts he pushed into Er Ekdim Valley had been massacred. On top of that, it was all apparently done by a single person. He couldnt believe it and didnt want to believe it. Ahmud kept talking about the Kanma, but was it really the Kanma? According to the company commander, the Kanma had been on a rampage ever since the air defense team shot the helicopter down. Chapter 74 - Episode 8: A Desperate Escape Chapter 74: Chapter 11, Episode 8: A Desperate Escape Theyve imagined it. It was a hallucination! Those idiotic bastards are rambling about evil spirits again. Habib couldnt believe the company commanders report. A Kanma who had been shot down by an RPG swooped in uninjured? A machine gunners neck slid off automatically, and the assistants face was crushed with a swing of a hand? Does that make sense? Habib was shouting out loud. He was someone who had experience in battles as a field army sergeant. 120 soldiers were defeated by ten soldiers? No, he had seen too much in his lifetime to believe that they had been defeated by a single person. It was impossible unless Lieutenant Commander Payze lost his mind and gave his scouts reeds to hold onto instead of guns. Habibs stiff face refused to relax. The wounded soldier who had initially reported the situation was reported to have fallen into a coma. Therefore, there was a high possibility that he had been hallucinating. The person who had destroyed his scouts had disappeared without a trace. The names Azrael and Kanma kept spinning around in his head. There wasnt a soldier who survived after being a shot by the villain. On top of that, their traveling speed was miraculous. This was someone who showed the true meaning of a hit and run. Where was he going to find this villain who had disappeared? Although the Sahel region was vast, theyd have to find and kill this bastard or keep them alive! Meanwhile, Tombye stared at Habib, who was fuming. He had been agreeable to the plan, which involved Gaddafi, from the beginning. However, there was no way a government manipulated by outside powers was going to be fine. Tombyes political goal was to establish a democratic coalition. He had believed that a coalition based on population was the only solution to uniting all of the tribes. On the other hand, the hawkish faction, led by Habib, had insisted on establishing an Arab-based government. Habib, who usually abused his strong military background, was the stone in his shoe and thorn in his side. Now that he had lost a third of his forces, he was no different than a lion without its teeth. Watching Habib fly into a rage over his loss made Tombye want to buy a meal for those Ratel people. Unfortunately, Tombyes amusement didnt last long. Your Grace! His subordinate interrupted his musings. Your Grace, I cant get into contact with the 1st Command. According to the local informants, Goukounis army isnt in Zaura. What? Goukouni isnt in Zaura?! Tombye stood up from his seat, then collapsed back into it. His head was spinning. Habibs prediction had turned out right. Goukouni was also plotting something. He clutched his haggard face with his two hands. Unlike Makumbo, Goukouni was a large fish who had once been in presidency. The fact that Goukounis army wasnt in Zaura meant that he was leaving the FROLINAT. He wouldnt join Frances side immediately, but this served as his declaration to begin an independent line. Goukounis army was the core of the FROLINATs strength. His army combined with Makumbos forces left them with only one third of their military force. If they switched sides, then the future of the FROLINAT was bound to turn bleak. Now, even the Council of 11 was about to fall apart. Ha! Tombye buried his face in his large hands and sighed. Habib shot a hateful glare towards Tombye, who was in despair. That stupid old man Tombyes careless countermeasures had thrown off his entire plan. Of course, it wasnt entirely his fault. Perhaps this was fate challenging the FROLINATs existence. Habib, can you meet Gaddafi for me? Tombye asked this without meeting Habibs gaze. Habib felt an urge to punch the old man in the mouth. No. I am going to capture the French special forces who were the cause of this entire mess. Including Makumbo, of course. The Sahel is the land of us Muslims, not the land of frogs. Chairman, you should meet Gaddafi yourself. You should make up for your own mistake. Tombye, who rubbed his face several times, stood up with a determined expression. No matter what anyone said, he was the Chairman of the dovish faction of the FROLINAT. I understand, Ill leave immediately. You can handle your own work. Salmu ?alaykum (May peace be upon you)! Ill be expecting Gaddafis reinforcements as soon as possible. Salmu ?alaykum! When Tombye left, Habib called his butler. Bring Ahmud out. Ahmud had become visibly thinner during the past few days. Despite treating his subordinates lives like trash, Ahmud was someone who cared deeply for his own life. The few days he had spent shivering in fear in the underground cell had been hell. Ahmud raised his hand and praised Habib. Allah is our only God. My Wakil, you will be blessed and have a seat reserved next to Allah! A smile escaped from Habib. Ha. Ahmud, stop babbling and put on your military uniform. Ill give you one last chance. Whether its the badgers or Kanma, I want you to bring their heads to me. Oh, Allah, what a wise decision. May your fights on the battlefield be blessed. Ahmud stepped back as if her were moving away from hells door. He truly had a cockroachs vitality. Ahmud left the office with a newfound confidence. The reason why Habib returned Ahmud to his position was because there was no other commander he could trust. High ranking commanders like Musta and Payze, and several others, had been sniped by the bastard called Kanma. I will send those frog bastards to hell! Those heathens who bathe in pigs blood will be sorry they ever messed with me! Habib, who was unable to hold back his anger, kicked the UAZ Jeep that was meant for him. The driving soldier, surprised, stiffened like a palm tree. At the sound of gritting teeth, the soldiers body trembled. Habib was a violent boss. He was a man who killed his predecessor. The soldier felt as though he would wet his pants in fear. The humiliation Habib had suffered before his competitor, Tombye, was burning his insides. How many soldiers had he sacrificed to those bastards? Over 500 of his soldiers had died. Although it wasnt difficult to recruit that many soldiers again, it would take time to train them. The situation would end with him or them dying. If Goukouni had fled Zaura, the northern army would begin to fall apart. Even his reputation had declined. However, a desert warrior didnt forget his revenge, even when everything seemed lost. Habib kicked the Jeep once more before he climbed into the car and left in a hurry. Endoumi Doline, located south west on the edge of Djourab Erg, was 15 kilometers away from Ratels camp. Armed soldiers wearing sand colored gandouras climbed the dune like ants in line. The BTR152 also wriggled up the mountain of sand. Once they had climbed the 40-meter dune, they saw a piece of sunken land that was one kilometer in diameter. Line up according to your units. Platoon leaders, distribute Jenkems according to each group. The sandstorm will die down soon. Hurry up. Ahmud yelled at his soldiers while swinging his gun around. He was a man with extreme luck and had hit the jackpot once more. He had been defeated several times, had faked a report, and had been pummeled by Habib until dust flew. If the subordinate hadnt stepped in, he would have had a bullet between his eyes. Ironically, the crushing defeat at Er Ekdim Valley had given him another chance. Not only had he avoided death, he had also been reinstated into command. The Council of 11 had also given him a direct order to annihilate the Ratel team that was rampaging across the Sahel. He had also received reinforcements from each army for the first time. That showed how much the Ratel team had managed to annoy the FROLINATs leaders. He had to take on as much responsibility as he had been given in authority. If not, Habib would shoot him in the head. Ahmuds face was dark. Whether it was raccoons or badgers, hed have to catch them. He, after thinking about the destruction of Payzes scouts, was frustrated. However, his luck continued. He received a report that multiple pickup trucks carrying a strange group of people were moving across the Djourab. It was accurate information that reported eight people dressed as locals in three pickup trucks. Ahmud moved swiftly on his feet. If those bastards went into hiding in the Ennedi Plateau, Ahmud would have problems. He gathered every mobile military force around the targeted region. He even received soldiers from other council members. The three days the Ratel team hadnt battled were also the three days Ahmud spent gathering his forces. The number of soldiers the FROLINAT had was more than enough for a brigade. However, Chads central northern region was far too large. Furthermore, commanding authorities were divided, making it difficult to mobilize the army. This was the limit of a joint military command. The FAPs 3rd army who had gone against the Ratel team had lost a total of 700 soldiers. The FAPs 1st and 4th armies had also suffered major losses. On top of that, there was a limit to the number of armies which could be aided due to the fracturing higher-ups. Ahmud, who sat on top of the BTR153 Cupola, gritted his teeth. I, Ahmud, was defeated and chased around by less than a dozen frogs? He remembered the moment he hid in the underground shelter of the command post at the BTR cabin. His body shook in humiliation. He nearly rolled over and puked in disbelief when he found out that the number of frogs that had entered Djourab Erg was less than ten. Now that he thought about it, those bastards only had three pickup trucks in Guradi Ridge and Ekiya. His theory that there was a main special forces team behind them was his own cover up story. The bastards who had entered Djourab Erg were the French special forces. This was the conclusion he reached after going over their previous battles and combining the local reports. It was unbelievable, but it was the truth. The crazy hyena of the Sahel, Ahmud, had been decimated three times by those few frogs. Even his house had been ransacked. There couldnt be a worse joke or nightmare than this. Ahmud looked around at the gathered forces around the Cupola. There were three BTR152 units, and a total of 265 soldiers. It was more than enough to crush a few frogs. If rumours spread about this, he would become a laughingstock. Ahmud didnt let his guard down. The Ratels strength couldnt be measured in numbers. They were the Legion Etrangers sniper team they had heard troublesome reports about. Thinking of the Kanma bastard who had flown around at Guradi Ridge, Toko Toom, and Coromunga made the back of his neck break out in chills. The other bastards who were in the same special forces as the Kanma had similar fighting abilities. The one who had showered them with the mine throwers at Guradi was as fearsome as the Kanma. A villain who launched grenades as precise as a sniper was something daunting. Ahmud clamped down on his teeth. Whether he was the Kanma or not, one sniper wasnt capable of changing the battlefield. He, too, was someone who could die when shot by a bullet. He just had to be wary of that sniper. Being conscious of them, he moved every BTR152 he could mobilize in aid. Ahmud was someone who valued his life very much. It was this or that. If he didnt catch those bastards this time, it was the end either way. Habib had ordered him to shove a gun barrel into his mouth and pull the trigger with his toes if he failed on catching the Kanma again. He wasnt in a position to laugh at Musta. He had become an even more humiliating figure after being crushed three times and having his house stolen. He felt as though he could finally have his revenge once he peeled off those bastards skins alive and sprayed salt all over them. Commander, were ready. Receiving his sub-commanders report, Ahmuds face turned fierce. This was his fourth officer. He had lost three officers in the span of a month. The Kanma had killed those previous three. As long as the bastards positions were detected and being followed, this was the perfect chance to end them. Move out, lets go catch those white pig bastards! The 265 soldiers began to move out with their panzer units at the forefront. Emil left the camp because he was worried about his partner. He had volunteered to stand guard, but Black Mamba was still injured. He couldnt help but to worry. When he finished climbing up the cliff, the sand in the wind slapped his face harshly. Even the stars began to blink in and out of sight within the strong Sahara winds. F****** s***, this wind is acting up tonight, Emil complained as he stood at the top of the cliff. He could see Black Mamba sitting down in that uncomfortable position as always. He had tried to mimic him before but had given up due to the pain it caused his legs. Not anyone could sit like a monster. Black, what time is it? What, Emil? The glow-in-the-dark hand attached to his compass was pointing at three. Its three. Why are you out? Chapter 75 - A Desperate Escape The Captain said for us to switch shifts. The truth was that Emil came to see Black Mamba because he was worried about him. However, he used the Captain as an excuse because he was too embarrassed to admit it. Just go and rest. Night goggles are useless in this kind of weather. You wouldnt be able to see the enemy even if they were right under your feet. The wind had died down, but it was still hard to see. The sky and ground were covered in sand. Even the moonlight had become hard to see. Thats true, but you need to rest too. Thanks for worrying about me. Partners like you are the best Wait! Black Mamba crouched and pressed his ear to the ground. Emil, its them. Their engines are loud. Its the tanks we saw earlier. How far away are they? Around 7 to 10 kilometers? Those f****** bastards, why do they keep coming after us? The Captain and that woman are the problem. Black Mamba clicked his tongue. F***, the Captain must have gone crazy for a moment. Be sure to go beat him up later. I need to report this. Emil ran to alert the camp. The camp began to buzz loudly as the mercenaries immediately armed themselves and ran to their assigned places. When threatened by death, they moved fast. Black, its the Captain. Can you confirm their distance? Theyre around 7 kilometers away. Their numbers are high. F***, I cant get a good view because of the wind. The temperature is going up. The wind will die down soon. Jang Shin, prepare the flare launchers. Yes, sir. Black, move out once they are 3 kilometers away. Guard the rear. Yes, sir. Mouris, after the Claymore goes off, grab the machine gun. Yes, sir. The Captain used his headset to go over each of the team members assignments. His senses were heightened. He believed that he had mistakenly led the enemies to their camp. This made him feel guilty. S***, what are those? Black Mamba saw a single group wearing yellow-brown gandouras move near their camp in Erra Ekadini. Due to their ability to camouflage and their sharp movements, he could tell they were from the same group as those who surprise attacked their rear at Uldi Hamarl. Theyre the starting scouts. Black Mamba, who had been aiming with his Dragunov, set down his firearm and spoke into his headset. Black here. Twelve starting scouts are approaching. The Captain immediately responded after receiving the transmission. Let them pass. Understood. Ill keep my eye on them. Roger. Black Mamba understood the Captains plan. If the enemies were going to attack them, it would be more advantageous to drag their main unit into the minefield. There was no reason to alert their guards by shooting down the scouts. Black, those bastards are approaching the camp. Let them be. Theyve detected our movements anyway. So, let them look at our camp. Hopefully, theyll go back and drag their comrades here afterward. Emil was worried, but Black Mamba was relaxed. His sharp eyes followed the scouts who were climbing the dunes. The possibility of them discovering his hidden teammates was small, but unexpected things did happen in life. He was prepared to shoot them if anything happened. The scouts were careful. They simply checked the camps existence from afar and turned back without provoking them. When the enemies disappeared back into the darkness, Emil let out a sigh of relief. Phew! Emil removed his finger off the Minimi trigger. He trusted Black Mamba, but he was nervous to the point that his fingers had turned sweaty. Theyll rush over like hounds. Then well have to give them a very warm welcome. As long as I have this dude and Black Mamba, I have nothing to fear. Emil tapped his Minimi with his finger. Didnt you complain about not being able to trust me before? Which bastard said that s***? Emil opened his eyes wide and glared around. Wait, theres quite a lot. Black Mamba ignored Emil and spoke into his headset. Black here. Enemy sighted 3 kilometers away. There are three pathetic panzers. Stand by. Done. Moving to the rear now. Roger. Black, you said there were three panzers? Jang Shin will take care of them. With a single shot from the Panzerfaust, that tank will be done. Jang Shin is the type of person who can land shots precisely on a panzer with a grenade launcher. So, we should go catch the mice in the back. Black Mamba carried his Dragunov and stood up. Damn, cant you help me up? Youre strong enough. Emil carried his heavy magazine and complained. The Minimi bullets were gathered in a plastic magazine that contained 200 bullets per cartridge belt. They weighed 3.5 kilograms. The bag, which had ten of those magazines, weighed 40 kilograms. The weight of the Minimi was 7.2 kilograms. This meant that he had to run around carrying 50 kilograms. Emil had the right to complain. You weakling! Black Mamba snatched the magazine bag and disappeared into the night within a flash. My God, Im being called a weakling at this age. At a height of 190 cm and a weight of 90 kilograms, Emil was heavily muscled. The word weakling didnt suit him no matter how he looked at it. Clack- Tap- Tap- Emil pulled out the Minimis magazine and clipped on the cartridge belt. After shaking off his severe cold, he was feeling energetic. Black, please dont raise your knife and spill blood everywhere. I wonder if Ill be able to recognize you while Im fighting. I mean, drunk people cant even recognize their own father during the daytime. Emil, you should watch your back thoroughly just in case. Wow. Thats a horrible joke. If I accidentally kill you while going crazy, Ill make sure to give you a nice funeral. Emil began to imagine an enemy soldier with his neck severed and head crushed. His body trembled at the image. Even if he did die, he didnt want to die in that manner. Ha, and you call yourself my friend. If the enemies plan on coming here, they should come quickly. Im so tired. I feel like I am going crazy. As expected, Emil had a heart of steel. However, it was hard to tell whether it was his metal heart or his loose screws speaking when he said he was tired before the battle. Theyre here. Theyre here?! Emil put on his night goggles, but he couldnt see anything due to the excess dust. Even technologically advanced gear had its limitations. Black Mamba turned on his headset. Enemy ahead, to the right at 2 oclock. Their distance from the Captain is estimated to be 2200 meters. There are around 200 soldiers. Received. Alert us when they are 600 meters away. Enemy at the rear, 7 oclock, 3300 meters away. Received. Black Mamba, you take care of that. Roger. Black, how can you sense their distance accurately? Will you teach me how to do it? You are asking about that again? Okay, Ill teach you. First, you need to be confined in a cave for six months, with centipedes being your only source of food. Mm, centipedes. If you eat a centipede, your hearing senses are heightened. Then what do you do? You have to fight with a leopard. That doesnt make sense. And then? You need to be beaten by a staff until you are on the brink of death. You f****** bastard, go f*** yourself. But its true! Leave it, you bastard. If you dont want to teach me, just tell me so. Why isnt there a single honest bone in you? Bang! Before Emil could finish complaining, an eruption echoed from the back. It was the sound of a grenade launcher. Following that, there was the sound of a Dragunov. Black, theyve started! Emil shouted in surprise. I know, you dont have to tell me. Dont these bastards sleep? Its the sound of a heavy mortar. Will it be okay? Emil continued, worried. Bang! Bang! Bang! Crash! The sound of loud explosions drowned the sound of gunshots. Bright fire streamed across the darkness. The battle of the grenade launchers, RPGs, and machine guns had begun. Mike looked into his scope with blood-shot eyes. His new partner, Mouris, was in charge of the Claymore mine and RPG. Meanwhile, Mike had settled into a sniping position to fill in Black Mambas empty spot. Clang! The green shadow that entered into the view of his scope crumpled to the ground. A 700-meter long-distance shot took time to target precisely. Another target escaped after Mike had managed to get him in his scope carefully. It wasnt easy. Damn, Mikes a monster. Black Mamba was someone who shot his targets like dominoes at 800 meters. He didnt like Mike, but he had to admit that his abilities were respectable. Mike carefully began to erase the visible enemies one by one. Black Mamba became anxious. The enemies who were moving near the rear were approaching cautiously and slowly. His plan to wipe out this invading team and head over to assist the front was ruined. Why are those bastards so slow? Emil, who couldnt hold back any longer, took up the Minimi and aimed. Black Mamba pressed down Emils hand. Wait. Theyre outside the shooting range. A Minimis shooting range was 800 meters. The enemies were approaching from a 1000-meter point. It was possible to suppress them, but the distance was too far to kill. Black Mamba clicked his tongue inwardly. If the enemy commander had intended for the rear invasion to separate their forces, then it was commendable. Theyve entered the first tripwire zone. Bang! Bang! Bang! The mimes began to explode before Black Mamba finished his sentence. The first tripwire was placed at 600 meters, the second at 400 meters. Aaaaaaargh! The enemies first wave of soldiers attacked, and the mines exploded in a row. Jeez, those bastards have no imagination at all, Emil said calmly. The front was chaotic with the sounds of gunshots and explosions overlapping one another. Black Mamba trusted his Captain and his friends, so he continued to wait at the rear for the enemies. Launching flares. Wear night goggles. At Jang Shins transmission, all the mercenaries turned off their night view amplifiers at once. An AN/PVS-5 was embedded with microchannels instead of electron tubes and amplified the light source by 20,000 times. If a flare was seen while the power remained on, the mercenaries risked becoming permanently blind. This first generation of night goggles, made in the 1960s, was called the Starlight Scope because it relied on starlight. The Starlight Scope, compared to the nighttime infrared googles, could be folded and were cheaper. On the other hand, if there was no light source around the user, their performance dropped tremendously. The second generation of optical amplification night goggles didnt just increase the speed of electrons but also increased their size and amplification. Thanks to that, a safe view could be procured even during starless nights. It had shaken off the nickname Starlight Scope. Pssst- Bang! The flare, shot by a mortar, shined like a million candles and brightened the desert for 70 seconds. The enemies swarmed forward like ants under the trailing, falling light. A smile appeared at the corners of Ahmuds mouth. Even if they were strong bastards, they were still the size of a squadron. He had 265 people on his side. He didnt need to use Lanchesters law as a reason for why theyd be victorious, because there was already an overwhelming difference in the number of soldiers between the two sides to guarantee this. The difference in their numbers revealed their power as time passed. All of his forty close subordinates had been sent to attack the rear. The front assault group consisted of soldiers that other armies had provided for him. Even if they were all slaughtered, he would regain Habibs trust as long as he got the Ratel bastards. If the difference in size was as significant as he predicted, not even their strongest soldier would be a worthy opponent for them. There was nothing to fear, even if the Ratel team was like a large lion. Once surrounded by hyenas, even a male lion was left as bones. Their numbers are small. Supervising unit, push forward! Ahmud shouted with confidence. There are many of them. That was all the Captain had to say after checking the enemies attack route. Black Mamba had said 200, so there had to be at least 200 soldiers. He could only hope that the rear attackers would be killed quickly. The BTR began to break the 12.7 mm heavy machine guns. When three worked together at once, their power was immense. The rock the Captain was hiding near cracked and shattered. Burimer, Jang Shin, get the BTR! The Captain, whose back was battered by the shattered rock, began to holler. There was no need for orders. Jang Shin was already assembling the warhead. He was no longer a rookie. He had become a war veteran who had participated in battles that had him straddling the border between life and death several times. Therefore, he was capable of reading the flow of a battle. Jang Shin holstered the 84 mm recoilless gun on his shoulder. The Panzerfaust had been made 30 years ago but was remodeled two times. The one he had in his hands was the M2CG, which had been developed in 1970. Chapter 76 - Episode 10: A Desperate Escape An average warhead had the shooting range of 700 meters, while a rocket booster warhead had 100 meters. It was a powerful weapon to use against an old armored vehicle. There was also the RPG-7, but its shooting range was limited. If it shot out of its range, not even God could predict where the warhead would land. Crash! The M2CGs muzzle flash, which illuminated the night, was incredible. An extensively long line of fire lit up the entire surroundings. Explode! Bell Man shouted excitedly with his right hand in the air. Jang Shin lived up to his nickname, Explosions Devil, as he managed to destroy the panzer 700 meters away with a single shot. The BTR-152, which had received an 84 mm rocket head directly to its front side, flew into the air before landing heavily back down. The rocket from the Panzerfaust could pierce a 65 mm rolled steel sheet. Compared to it, the BTR-152, wrapped with a 6 mm steel sheet, was like paper. The warhead penetrated the front of the panzer, crushed through the inside, and hit the back fuel tank. Bang! The panzer went up in flames as the fuel tank exploded. Jang Shin didnt have the time to admire his piece of work. He carried the launcher and ran for his life. Bell Man, who was carrying the magazines for the weapon, followed hurriedly. He was a doctor whose responsibility now was to carry explosives. Bang! Ta, ta, ta! As expected, there was no way the enemies could miss the extravagant flare of fire that came from the rockets muzzle flash. The enemys grenade launchers and machine guns hailed down on the place they had launched the shot. Bell Man, who was almost hit, broke out in cold sweat. F***, Im a doctor. Why do I need to carry an explosives box instead of an emergency kit?! Bell Man kept complaining as he followed Jang Shin. Then why dont you die hugging an emergency kit? Jang Shin replied without looking back. Ha, private newbie, youve got guts after killing some people. Bell Man laughed soullessly. Eek! When a machine gun rapidly shot bullets at them, Bell Man began to pump his legs harder. Ombuti, that bastard, wheres he gone? Bell Man shouted. Ombuti, whose job it was to carry the ammo, had disappeared without a trace. Bang! Bang! Bang! It was the sound of an ASG-17 that sergeant Burimer shot in three short successions. Clang! Another BTR-15, which had been running flawlessly with its co-axial machine gun, was surrounded by the grenades Burimer shot off. The gunner on the roof of the panzer looked stressed and panicked as the tank veered off. This f****** s***! Throw some smoke shells! Smoke shells! Ahmud screamed as he slid into the turret. He was frightened out of his wits. Tap! Dark smoke covered the panzer. However, Burimer didnt lose a target he had already locked on. Bang! Bang! Bang! It was Burimers signature three-point sniping. The grenades, which flew out in a row, covered the entire tank. Crash! The panzer swayed once like a fishing boat against the wind. With a broken torsion bar, the vehicle began to crumble slowly on itself. Were hit! Hit! Im unable to move! The driver began to wail. S***, its too late. Were escaping. Infantry, open the boarding door. Ahmuds greatest talent was making fast decisions. He immediately opened the back boarding door and escaped. Clang! Three more grenades turned the panzer into scrap metal. The 12.7 mm bullets, which had been flying at the Ratel team, stopped immediately. Burimer, thank you! Mike winked at him. He hadnt been able to fight to the best of his abilities since the heavy machine gun suppressed him. He couldnt help but find Black Mamba, who had sniped bastards such as those with his Dragunov, impressive. When the coaxial machine gun fell silent, the Ratel teams sniping came back to life. The enemies who had passed their tripwires began to fall one by one. Wow, sergeant Burimer managed to catch the remaining two, Jang Shin exclaimed. That was the advantage of a high-speed grenade launcher. It had a fast launching speed and no back flares, which meant that there was less of a risk of having its position revealed. He hadnt been able to crush the vehicle because the warheads power was weak, but a panzer without its upper cupola and damaged power pack was nothing but a large can. When the two panzers exploded, Jang Shin immediately began adjusting the fuse. The Panzerfaust could turn into a high explosives grenade launcher with a slight fuse adjustment. Clang! The enemies who had been running in the forefront were swept into the air by the flints and aftershocks. He had targeted the exact center of the front attackers. Bell Man quickly tossed the warhead to Jang Shin, who caught it like a frog catching a fly, and immediately connected it to the launcher and ran for his life. The Panzerfausts signature bright muzzle flash was like an advertisement of his location to the enemies. Bell Man kept complaining as he chased after him. Ahh, Im going to die! Whats Black doing? Why isnt he here yet? Is that bastard pissed off about how I didnt use anesthesia on him before sewing him back up, or what? Jang Shin, who had sprinted 30 meters, threw his body forward as if to bury himself into a hole. Bell Man, who had followed, similarly plastered himself to the ground. Crash! Gurgle! An 84 mm grenade landed nearby, and the hot aftershock waved over them. Ugh, you s***. Are you planning to run all the way to NDjamena? Shut up! I need to catch that bastard, but Im not within the range, damn it. Bang! Jang Shin, who sent another fire to his target, immediately hauled the launcher and sprinted again. The downside to the M2CG was its muzzle flash. The FROLINATs soldier handling the grenade launcher was very skilled. Just then, a grenade landed near him. Because of the enemy soldiers burning desire to catch him, Jang Shin had no choice but to run for his life every time after he launched his attack. Due to the continuous hit and run, Bell Man began to lose his breath. Hey, youve already shot four rounds. Throw it away now! Bell Man shouted. Its not as if were going after a tank, so why should I?! Jang Shin shouted back. Another negative aspect of a Panzerfaust was its internal construction. After three shots, the sight point on the scope tilted out of balance. Like Bell Man said, an accurate shot was hard to make. However, Jang Shin was confident that he could work with the tilted sight point if he used a high explosives area grenade. An unlikely comment came in through the headset. Jang Shin, you idiot, why are you running around with a Panzerfaust when youve caught a BTR-15? The Captains angry voice cracked. Understood. Ha! What was I doing?! Jang Shin pulled himself together and ran towards the rear of the camp with Bell Man on his tail. A series of mortar shots had far better resistance than the Panzerfaust. There was no reason to show off with a strong, mutually destructive recoilless weapon. Every time the sound of a grenade went off, one or two enemies died in the explosion. The ones who arrived on the second line of tripwire didnt even care. They ran forward as though they were on drugs. Mouris had carefully set up the mines to lead the enemies into the direction of the Claymore, but there was no use because they ignored the mines and ran forward. The enemies passed the minefield and ran into the 300-meter defensive line made of Claymores. Twenty to thirty enemy soldiers had died from the grenades and sniping, but there wasnt a noticeable dent in the number of soldiers. Mouris, who had the Claymores control device in his hand, glared at the defensive line. Flare launching, night goggles off. Roger. Pssst. Bang! The flare Jang Shin launched had brightened the entire desert, revealing the enemies. Mouris waited for the perfect time to press the control device in order to increase the impact. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his thigh. All eight sets of those Claymores were his responsibility. In three more seconds, the armed foot soldiers would attack since they were only 15 to 20 meters away. Considering the enemies attack speed, the Claymores were placed in four sets of two in a direct line. If Burimer was a professional in explosives, Mouris was the king of booby-trapping. The mines and Claymores were placed strategically by Mouris and Burimer. They had installed two Claymores to increase the range of the explosion and its concentration. If they exploded in intervals of three seconds, they could wipe out the entire field in range. The flare brightened the sky again before it disappeared into the darkness. Mouris turned on his night goggles. Blurry shadows gathered countlessly on the marked point. Heres a present, you bastards. He pressed two controls at the same time. BANG! The 1440 millet-sized bullet spheres were squeezed out of 700g of C-4 high explosives and swept forward at four times the speed of sound. The enhanced Claymores caused an explosion that swept across the field within 120 degrees to the 200-meter point. The enemies, who were within the 50-meter radius of the Claymores strongest explosion point, received a massive impact. However, despite that immense damage, the force of the opposing vanguards attacks didnt lessen. Those bastards, theyve dowsed themselves in drugs. A cold smile appeared on Mouris lips. BANG! When the third and fourth Claymores went off, the opposing vanguards enthusiasm began to falter. Even that yellow chick, Jang Shin, is doing his job, so a veteran shouldnt fall behind. Mouris gathered the controls once more. Trois, deux, un (Three, two, one) Beep- Mouris, who had been counting down, flinched. It was the sound of a grenade falling close by. F***! He threw himself down. Crash! The 84 mm grenade, which landed in close range, pushed the ground apart. Unfortunately, Mouris wasnt Black Mamba. After being showered in spare pieces, his body bounced from the shocks. He was thrown like a straw of threshing grain and embedded in a rocks crevice five meters from his position like a rag doll. His consciousnesses came back after several seconds. His body had hardened from extensive training. He instinctively threw himself into a crouching position. However, his body didnt move. Mouris gaze moved towards the lower half of his body. He couldnt see anything beyond his waist. I still have half. Mouris painfully squeezed out the last of his strength. He pressed the control with all he had, but he didnt feel anything. The place where his arm should have been was empty. Mouris blinked. His arm was gone. What Mouris began to laugh as he looked down at his missing lower half and right arm. Slowly, he began to feel numb. He couldnt feel the pain. S***, theres still another three sets left Mike. My partners going to be pummeled to death by Black. However, at least my comrades would be able to return to Sari, thanks to him. Adios! Mouris slipped out of consciousness as his last thoughts were of his comrades safe return. Mouris was from Moroccos Revolutionary Guards. He was handsome. He had been told that he looked similar to Omar Sharif. There was one pervert that was after his handsome a*s all the time. That bastard was one of the Guards commander, a Soviet. Mouris, who couldnt hold back any longer, sent the perverse Soviet bastard off in his car with a liquid bomb. Mouris had fled to Legion Etranger to avoid the military police. The light faded from the eyes of Huang Mouris, of Moroccos Revolutionary Guard, 1st Sergeant. Hoorah, Allah, Allah! The vanguards broke through the last defense line. Sergeant Bell Man, the Claymore Do you think something happened to Sergeant Mouris? Jang Shin, dont imagine things. On the battlefield, one must fulfill their roles to save their comrades. Your job is to push back those enemies until Black Mamba returns. Yes, sir. Jang Shin used a large mushroom-shaped rock as a shield while he aimed his grenade launcher. Plop- Plop- He shot two rounds and fixed its point of impact. Explosions Devil Jang Shin began to pour in high explosive grenades. Bell Man, who was his temporary partner, began to move the magazines quickly and reload. Black Mamba may have been at the rear, but the Ratel team had the best mercenaries who had once swarmed around the Sahel. Burimer stopped their advancements with an ASG-17 30 meters away from Jang Shin. The 30 mm grenade, which followed, played a significant role in pushing them back. When the grenade launcher and mortar stopped their frontal assault, Senior Airman Miguel and the Captain began to thwart the enemys assisting fire with their Minimi and M60. Mike and Bell Man calmly got rid of the enemies who crossed their defense line. The assisting explosive guns, repressive explosion guns, and snipers worked together like well-greased gears. The FROLINATs determination, with their advantageous numbers at the forefront, was unbearable. They rushed forward under the shower of bullets and grenades. The 84 mm grenade launcher from the rear shook the Ratel teams armed camp and opened up a pathway for their vanguards. Several machine guns showered light tracer bullets in rows. Get those bastards grenade launchers and mortars damn it. If you get those, the front assault team can swallow them in one go. Ahmud, who had suddenly fallen to the rear, began to encourage the grenade launcher shooters. The grenade launchers and machine guns began to aim for Jang Shin and Burimer mercilessly. If they shot two to three times, a returning shot immediately came. Jang Shin and Burimer, who couldnt take it any longer, had to change their positions several times. Due to their weapons technicality, their locations were quickly revealed. Jang Shin gritted his teeth. He had predicted the location of the launcher from its flare, and shot several mine launchers, but hadnt been able to silence it. The place theyve concealed themselves in was too vague. Rifle bullets began to fly in. The moment theyd allowed the rifles to approach within range, theyve failed to defend themselves. The Captain felt as though a hand would throttle him at any moment. Chapter 77 - A Desperate Escape Black, hurry over so you can kill me! The Captain shouted this in his head. Ombuti had unintentionally become an excluded member of the fight. The battle had occurred so suddenly as he was busy rubbing his butt between two soft sand-stones that he had used as a barrier. Crash! The explosion dropped without warning close by him. Ahh! Surprised, Ombuti landed on his butt. He climbed back in between the rocks without picking himself back up. Ugh, those tenacious bastards. I need to be carrying the grenades. The thought of helping Jang Shin swept through his mind. Eek! Ombuti had climbed out of the rocks and poked his head out, then immediately headed back in. Pa! Pa! Pa! Pieces of the rock fell apart loudly as bullets hit it. With the grenade launcher signaling the start of the battle, the sounds of explosions and bullets began to fill the desert. Bullets flew in from both sides. The bullets that had passed by his ears made a chilling sound. He couldnt gather the courage to leave his cover. He, a Tuareg warrior, couldnt reveal himself as a coward to the others. The actions he had taken to handle his personal matters had led him away from camp and put him in a difficult situation. He had, unfortunately, landed himself in the line of fire between the two sides. F*** being noble. What even is noble? Ive already decided to serve a master. Itll end soon when Wakil arrives. Ombuti decided to ease his mind. He had once organized a private army to fight against the FROLINAT. That had been childs play compared to now. The Ratel team were true warriors, and he was getting older. He wouldnt be of any help, even if he stepped into the battle. The mercenary group, which his Wakil protected, was undefeatable. The FROLINAT, made of human soldiers, wouldnt be able to do anything to his Wakil, who was anything but human. Therefore, Azrael and the mercenaries would be able to handle the battle without him. The battle became more intense. The sounds of explosions and gunshots filled the sky and ground. The intense piercing smell of the gunpowder tickled his nose. He began to cough and sneeze. Panicked, he shoved his head closer into the small crevice. He wasnt scared of death, but he didnt want to die before he had his revenge. Musta had died, but Habib, who raped his wife and was a murderer, was still alive. If he died now, how was he supposed to face his wife and daughter? Allah, I cannot die yet. By your grace, my life has been extended. Please keep death away from me a little longer. Ombutis sounds of prayer, which had begun gently, started to increase in volume. All that is in the heavens and earth belongs to Allah. Whether you disclose whatever is in your hearts or conceal it, Allah will on call you to account for it; and will then forgive whom He wills, and will chastise whom He wills. Allah has power over everything. Allah is great! Allah is great! (From Surah Al-Baqarah 2:284) When the sounds of the battlefields gunshots and explosions grew greater, Ombuti prayed louder. Although chaos reigned at the front of the battle, the rear wasnt peaceful either. Oh, this is useful! Mussang was pleased with the newly assigned night goggles. The new provision AN/PVS-5 was incomparable to the previous version. Despite the dim moonlight, he could see the entire 400-meter front. The older version wouldnt have been capable of this. The new night goggles filtered out the crawling enemy in a clear green color. This was because the green vision shot the amplified electrons on the phosphor thin film to generate photons. Meanwhile, Black Mamba tried to suppress his desperate mind. Even if he was being rushed, there was a specific order of actions he had to follow. The enemies who climbed over the dunes began to appear on his night goggles. Over the dune was nothing but open fields for 400 to 500 meters. The moment they climbed over the dunes, the enemies names on Black Mambas death list began to blur. Black Mamba raised his Dragunov. It was time for their blood to be spilled across the Sahel. However, it was uncomfortable. He had met his enemy for the first time, and there was no bad blood between them. Thinking about the higher-ups who created this messy situation made his teeth clench Im a mercenary, and they see me as an enemy, so now what? I need to do my job and work for my food. Theres no such thing as free food in this world, and theres nothing worse than taking something you didnt pay for. Black, are you casting a spell on yourself again? Teach me. When Black Mamba spoke in Korean, Emil began to complain. I need to pay for my food first. Thirty-five soldiers climbed over the 10-meter dune, and beyond it was the 400-meter mark Black Mamba had decided would be his sniping area. He couldnt have requested anything better for a sniping environment. The dune would be an obstacle for the enemies if they tried to escape. On the other hand, the targets were small. The enemies heads, which were low to the ground, were his targets. Black Mambas specialty, the several-in-a-row sniping, began. Ta! Ta! Ta! The 7.62 mm bullet shot through three supervising soldiers heads. The bullet sustained its momentum as it pierced through their cerebrums, cerebellums, and brain-stems before finally coming out of through their chins. It was a horrible death, but it didnt look that bad. The targets died without a sound and plopped lifelessly to the ground. After the supervisors deaths, Black Mambas Dragunov began to fire at the enemies without rest. He brought death to them without a sound. Even Emil began to wonder whether Black Mamba had shot his gun at all. Once the invaders realized a sniper was responsible for their fellow soldiers deaths, over half of them had shoved their heads into the sand. Its the Kanma! Kanma! The shouts of the enemies stricken with fear began to trickle in. They began to scatter like ants. While some began to dig into the sand like madmen, others turned their backs and started running up the dune. Tap, tap, tap! Tap, tap, tap! With two three-in-a-row shots, the six who were climbing up the dune collapsed. Emil, who was staring at the scene through his night goggles, shook his head. Six had collapsed instantly. Black Mamba was a good sniper. The skill he had for controlling the guns recoil was a mystery. Wow! Those bastards are fast. Theyre like moles. Emil was surprised by how fast the enemies had hidden underneath the sand. Emil sent a silent regard to those poor soldiers. Even if they were hiding, there was no avoiding Black Mambas sniping. If Black Mamba began to use his dimensional sight, concealment was of no use. A cruel fate was already decided for the enemies who entered the open field. The possibility of living after walking into a lions den was higher than living while exposed to Black Mambas gun. A layer of sand didnt serve as an obstacle for a bullet that had the momentum of 3600J. Tap! Every time the low and heavy shot rang out, the sand was filled with blood. The soundless deaths, combined with human imaginations, only increased the enemies fear. They choked in terror and were unable to shoot a bullet in retaliation. Their deaths were meaningless. If Ahmud had also given his direct subordinates a Jenkem, they would have retaliated without fear. The sandstorm died down. When the dust that roamed the air settled, stars filled the skies. Black Mamba silently looked out at what he had done. It had taken three minutes for the rear invaders, all thirty-five of them, to be scratched off his list. In the desert, where Dragunovs firing had stopped, the splattered brains were revealed under the moonlight and shone with a glint of blue. It was a grotesque scene. Damn, he looks like the main character of the Cannes movie festivals winner. Emil thought he looked amazing, with his gun lowered underneath the white moonlight, staring out into the battlefield. No, he looked lonely and tormented. Burdens weighed down on his broad shoulders. Black Mamba was two years younger than him. He was at the age where he had a heroic mind, had strengthened his shoulders, and would hold his neck up high. He was a sniper who didnt like killing, a cool guy who threw his life on the line for his comrades, a pure lover who didnt hold other women except for his true love, a guy who turned into a devil when a gun was in his hands, and someone who turned into a monk when the weapon left his hands. Emil was that guys friend and partner. He suddenly felt very happy. And he was a bit annoyed. His job was to prevent enemies from running forward. He was Black Mambas guard. But the enemies had died before they could even rush forward. All he had done was watch a boring movie through his night goggles. However, even that had finished in an instant. Ugh, blast! Emil, who hadnt been able to shoot even once, rapped on his faultless Minimi. The new series original Minimi from Belgiums FN company was a spicy pepper that could shoot 1000 rounds per minute. But what use was it, even if it was spicy?! There was no-one he could use it on. Black, leave some for me. Emil, dont speak up this late. Ill kick your a**. Black Mamba smiled at his partners harmless whining. Emil had a bright personality, which made him a blessing. If he had gained a strange partner like Mike, he would have buried him long ago or would have considered transferring. Those bastards dont have any imagination. They always attack the rear and advance forward. Im growing tired of it. Emil, the fronts situation is bad. Damn, you should go. The Captain must be spitting fire by now. What about the rear? Ill take care of it. Black Mamba shot out, even before Emil finished his reply. Fast as always. Black Mamba ran as though he was flying off the ground. The flying sand covered him and made him practically invisible. His body wavered left and right underneath the blurry moonlight. He was using shadow steps as he considered the FROLINAT snipers. His speed didnt catch up with his hurried mind. Shadow steps put an enormous strain on his ankles. The injured lower half of his leg began to throb. Even if he had a supernatural healing ability, a deep wound couldnt recover perfectly within three days. Ha, look at him. It was Ombuti. It seemed as though the old Tuareg warrior had forgotten entirely about the Captains request for him to help Jang Shin. The sight of his head underneath a rock with his butt sticking out was comical. It was deja vu of what happened at Cheonseongsa Temple. Laughter spilled out of his mouth. A rooster, who was chased by a goshawk, had flown into the temple during late fall. The panicked creature had shoved its head underneath the Buddhas feet. He thought if he couldnt see the goshawk, it wouldnt see him either. The Master and disciple had laughed so hard, they forgot about the service. This old man wouldnt die, I suppose. Black Mamba ran through the dried Wadi like a leopard. He could hear that his comrades were being pushed back by the sound of the guns. His comrades were skilled, but they were nothing against the enemy with greater numbers. The enemies, which had flooded the front, consisted of over 200 soldiers. He didnt want to lose any more comrades. No, Miguel! Black Mamba screamed amid his sprint. He witnessed the moment the bullet ran into Miguels head like a paused scene in a movie. The bullet slowly dug into the helmet. The sight of Miguel collapsing had registered unrealistically in Blacks head. The Minimi, which stood on a tripod, rolled into the trench. Those f****** bastards! Curses poured out of his mouth. In a rushed heat, he pushed his bold steps to the max. He jumped into the trench, crossing 50 meters in one breath. He hurriedly adjusted Miguels head and took off his helmet. F****** s***, Namuamitabul! A sad sigh escaped his mouth. A hole, the size of a coin, had appeared on the left side of his fallen friends skull. It was an immediate death, without a need to confirm it. Miguels body began to tremble. It was a process that began when the muscles refused to accept the electrical stimulation from the brain, repeating its last contraction and relaxation. He picked up the bulletproof helmet he had thrown. He took out the bullet that was lodged in the other side of the helmet. The 7.62 mm bullet, which shot through the Kevlar bulletproof helmet, had pierced through Miguels brain and came out of the other side. He could tell what kind of bullet it was, even if it was crushed. It was a bullet that had been shot from a Degtyarev, used in WWI. It was an old weapon, but its power was comparable to the current machine guns. S***! A piece of 14g metal had ended the life of a human who had lived for 31 years. Black Mamba threw the bullet onto the ground in rage. Chapter 78 - Episode 12: A Desperate Escape As a member of the Deuxieme Reps explosives team, Miguel was close to Jang Shin. He had previously been a drug control officer in Columbias police force. He had lost his mind after his one and only big sister lost her life due to cocaine addiction. While he ambushed a drug farm in a jungle with a machine gun, he also sent important figures of those drug cartels to jail, one after another. The cycle of bribery, threats, and eventually, becoming a hitman, was an open method of silencing enemy powers through drug cartels. The cartel began to throw immense bribes at the crazed man to calm him down. Miguel bought weapons with that money and increased the number of informants. The cartels began to threaten him through several methods. Miguel, who had no family and a paranoid personality, hadnt even blinked an eye. In the end, the cartel sent a hitman for him. The boring hide-and-seek between Miguel and the hitman began. There were plenty of people strewn about Columbia who would kill for several hundred dollars. A restaurant worker tried to stab him directly, while a taxi driver attempted to shoot him. There was no point in killing the hitmen, since the cartel sent an endless stream of them. In the end, Miguel, who was tortured by fear and boredom, ran to Legion Etranger. The magician of the machine gun, the hot-blooded man who fought against drug cartels by his lonesome, the strong backing of the Ratel team, Miguel, had died without a will in Black Mambas arms. A small, sleek golden piece of metal had resolved Miguels fears. He no longer had to fear the hitmen sent by those drug cartels. I suppose its a relief that he didnt have the chance to feel any pain. Miguel had been silent with a strong, responsible personality. They hadnt been particularly close in Deuxieme Rep, but they had become close comrades after surviving across the burning Sahel desert. Gray-white brain fluid began to leak out of the bullet hole. The high protein fluid in the same class as tofu soaked his clothes. Black Mambas heart twisted. Miguel was Muslim. Black Mamba sent as much of a Muslim prayer as he could remember. Allah is the most benevolent and knowing name. All that exists praise your name, Allah, our God. The dictator of the day of judgement, I ask for your help in praise. Your son seeks you at this place, so please give him a seat underneath your feet, and greet him warmly. Black Mamba tilted his head. Muslim prayers were too difficult. Is this right? Eh, I dont know. You were a great comrade. I wont forget you for as long as I live. Salam Alleh Kum! (may Gods blessings be with you!) Good! Black Mamba, who had finished his prayer, praised himself for a job well done. He liked the simple message, which was heartfelt rather than a formal prayer. There was something his master had always said: the b*stards who pray well are those who earn good money, not those who serve Buddha well. He had said so to emphasize the heart of prayer, rather than the formalities. With a crumpled face and barely open eyes, Miguels death mask wasnt very handsome. Hey, Miguel, dont frown with your ugly face. You look like a street rat. He gently closed Miguels slitted eyes. The eyelids fell, and the black, burnt face looked a little more comfortable. Rage filled his chest before sadness took over. The rule of survival stated that he could die if he could kill others, he knew that well. But the death of his friend who had crossed between life and death was too pitiful. Miguel, youve turned into an old ant, too! I wont leave those b*stards who caused your death alone, Black Mamba swore as he gathered Miguels cold body. Rage and sadness filled the only Parathropus human on earth. His eyes clouded red, and his head rang as though was banging on it like a drum. Danger! His instincts warned him of danger. If he didnt stop here, he would go on a rampage. He remembered the painful memory that had turned him into a night ghost, making him cross the distance between the river to Chungsongs Mount Ju Wang. Om-ani banmeh-om namsaman da motdanam surisurimahasuri sabeha! He repeated a mantra once before pulling out a long, shrill scream. Awoooh! A loud howl shook the desert. It was greater than the sound of a cannon launching. Even the sounds of gunshots and explosions were swallowed by the long howl. Black Mamba laid Miguels corpse back into the trench. He could always come back for his dead comrade later. Now was the time to fly around for his living comrades. When his brief prayer ended, the sound of explosions and gunshots poured into his ears. He could grasp the entire situation with a sweep of his eyes. The rear cannon and three-inch recoilless cannons were a problem. When he spread his senses, he could sense his comrades busy movements to conceal themselves from the explosions each time. The shell was lower in accuracy but had a large range of impact. The most fearsome weapon for the Ratel team, whose specialty was concealment, was an area-suppressible weapon. The recoilless 0.68-inch cannon was manufactured by the Soviets, who bench-marked the United States KM67 3.5-inch recoilless canon. With its 3,000-foot shooting range, long-range attacks were possible, and its warheads power was immense. On the other hand, its accuracy failed, and the delay time between assembling and shooting was long. In the end, the 3.5-inch recoilless cannon moved aside for the RPG7 and finished its short life. They were waging a hit battle, but the Ratel team suffered disadvantages in firepower and numbers. A hit battle was disadvantageous to the minority. The FROLINAT was slowly gaining distance, its main force nearing the charging range. If rifle shots and RPGs joined the fray, the situation was bound to get out of hand. Black Mambas eyes shone coldly. The reason behind this civil war was an attempt for those people, the same ones who had once captured African natives as slaves several hundred years before the European powers, to take these citizens as their slaves. He was especially sensitive to inhuman actions due to his childhood trauma. With a clack, Black Mamba loaded in his Dragunovs bullet. Its nice that I dont have to cover myself in blood since its urban warfare. He smiled, revealing his white teeth. It was the same smile as the angel of death, Azrael. Ahmud was frustrated to the point of tears. The enemys defense line seemed to be breaking but hadnt yet. He found these tenacious b*stards withstanding the waves of attacks tiring. They were living up to their team name, Ratel. The losses he had suffered in the beginning due to those land mines and claymore mines were painful, down to his bones. This was due to the drugs. In order to prevent those young untrained soldiers from running away, he had sent them out after feeding them street drugs. It was a mistake. He had only created a greater loss from a meaningless attack. Ahmud shoved down his panicking thoughts. A squadrons overall power quickly decreased when even a single person left the force. As expected, the machine guns frequency was silent. He could see the enemys decreasing firepower. Charge, charge! Theres a hole in their defensive line. Push forward! Ahmud shouted at the top of his lungs. The front guards raised their scimitars and pushed forward relentlessly. Ahmud, surprised at the sound of Black Mambas howl, asked his subordinate, Wait, whats that sound? Isnt it the sound of a wailing animal? You idiot, there are no animals around here. What animal could possibly make that noise? Then shouldnt it be the enemys new weapon? Ahmud wanted to shoot his subordinate in the head. This was already his fifth officer. His head was full of sh*t, so much so that his insides collapsed on themselves every time he held a conversation with him. Ahmud thought of the sound as the passing wind between rocks. Sometimes, strange phenomenons occurred in the desert. Whats that Hazis b*stard doing? He should have attacked the rear by now. It was news to them that the Hazis platoon responsible for rear attacks had long vacated the premises. Not even his subordinate would know what went on in the rear. He only made an uncomfortable expression. That f*cking b*stard, is he drawing in the sand with a stick? Im going to beat him to death. Hazis had already died. Ahmud, whose insides were burning in frustration, waited impatiently for the Hazis platoon, whom Black Mamba had already wiped out, to attack. The mercenaries faces were bright. There was no-one but Black Mamba among the living who could howl louder than a male lion. C Black Mambas here. C Ive heard, too. C Woah, Black Mambas here. The Ratel team, energized, moved their hands and feet much quicker. Jang Shin was covered in sweat. The same went for Bell Man. They were about to drop dead from avoiding the enemys launches and preventing the soldiers advancements. It had been continuous shooting and running without care. The FROLINAT ran forward, uncaring of their comrades deaths or the explosions. Sergeant Bell Man, I think theyve been drugged for sure. Mm, its not a battlefield panic disorder. Ive heard rumors, but to think Id see a hallucinogen at work myself Is it Jenkem? Whats a Jenkem? Whats the point of knowing, you b*stard? Just shoot and run. Annoyed, Bell Man began to scold Jang Shin. Jenkem was a drug used secretly across poor African countries like Chad and Congo. Surprisingly, Jenkems main ingredients were human excretions. The process to produce it was simple. After placing excretions in a bottle, it turned into Jenkem after its opening was sealed with plastic or a balloon and it was left to ferment. It had the same effect as inhaling butane gas. It was highly addictive and harmful to the human body, the prime example of the lowest drugs. Whether theyve been fed drugs or steroids, Black Mambas here, so everything should be over soon. Jang Shin began to aim with a much steadier hand. The unheard predator leapt out of the trench after closing Miguels eyes. Has that b*stard finally gone crazy? Mike, who was supposed to be sniping, was shooting with a machine gun like crazy with the entire upper half of his body in sight. It was like a plea for death. The fact that he was still alive was even more surprising. Black Mamba threw his body and shoved Mike behind a rock by grabbing the back of his neck. Let go, Mouris exploded! Those dog b*stards have killed Mouris! Ahh! Mike twisted in his grasp as he cried. There was only one method of returning an insane man to sanity. Sergeant Mike, Im sorry about this. Smack It was a hard slap, to the point where the insides of his mouth exploded, but Mikes eyes regained focus. Mike, whose broken consciousness had returned, said something unrealistic. Where, where am I? Mike looked blankly at Black Mamba in front of him. Have you finally regained your senses? What happened? Black Mamba, Mouris was done in. He survived three days of explosions at Guinea with me, but! Ah, ahhh! Mike cried out once more. Mouris was done in? Mouris face, which was as handsome as a Hollywood actors, swept across his mind. Mouris had followed Miguel. Black Mamba gritted his teeth. Mike, do you want to be beaten up again? With a gasp, Mike hiccuped and immediately regained his senses. As expected, the effects of hysteria were astounding. Mike, this isnt the time to be whining. Grab your Dragunov. You need to avenge Mouris death. Revenge? Yes, revenge. Mike regained his coldness and grabbed his Dragunov, then climbed under an obstacle. Was that the b*stards real personality? Black Mamba tilted his head. Mike was self-centered. The sight of him going crazy over his temporary partner was new. Black Mamba left Mike behind and ran towards the front right. In order to catch the rear mortar and recoilless cannon with his Dragunov, he had to close in at least 650 feet. Bullets poured down like hail, but they couldnt catch Black Mamba, who was using his shadow steps. Ugh, those damned frog b*stards! Ahmuds face crumpled after observing the battlefield. He had expected an immense resistance, but this was beyond his prediction. He had sent three waves of Jenkem-infused vanguards just to barely break through the tripwire of mines. There were too many sacrifices. It was as though he had exchanged soldiers for the amount of distance covered. His sides momentum was great, but the enemys defenses were greater. He found the armored car he had lost at the beginning of the battle even more unfortunate. He had brought it out, determined. The front vehicle had been shattered by the anti-tank gun, and the other two, which had been showered by grenades, had engines that had broken down. Aside from being an obstacle, it had become useless. Ahmud clenched his jaw. The gunshots that subordinates were advancing with began to suppress the enemys firepower. This was thanks to the mortars and recoilless guns that supported them from the rear by countering the enemys grenade launcher. One minutewith one more minute, the enemys defense line would fall. If he thought about the battles during which he had suffered at their hands, his jaw clenched. Hehehe, try your last stretch. Ill hang your corpses on a camels tail and drag you back by Allahs name. Chapter 79 - Episode 13: A Desperate Escape Ahmud smiled, satisfied. His smile didnt last long. Tha-that, commander, look to your right! At his subordinates panicked shout, Ahmus turned his head. Something was sprinting viciously toward them in a curve. Is it a bike? Ahmud murmured, looking through his night goggles. No. Its a person. What? A human! Surprised, Ahmud took off his night goggles, rubbed his eyes, and put them back on. The Soviet Confederations night goggles were rather rough and heavy equipment. If worn for too long, they pressed down on the eyes and created optical illusions. The figure reflected on the night goggles was, as his subordinate said, a human. It was impossible to say a human could run like a bike, but it was definitely a human. Ahmuds face hardened. It was the same b*stard who had crushed the command post, the b*stard who had sent bullets flying around the camp. That b*stard was that fast. Its-its him. That person! That b*stard! Huh? Confused, the subordinate began to enter a more focused mode. Him, that person, and that b*stard. No one had the ability to understand the difference between these similar nouns. Thump Ahmud kicked his subordinates shin repeatedly. You piece of sh*t, shoot him, shoot him to death! Ahmus shouted as though he had lost his mind. The fear and hatred towards that b*stard had frozen his logic. He didnt even know what he was saying. Hes not in shooting range. The subordinate looked down at his gun. He was being logical. Any person who asked him to shoot an enemy that was 15 to 1,500 feet away was the crazy one. At his subordinates surprising action, Ahmuds consciousness, which had taken leave, returned. Blood rushed to Ahmuds temple. You idiot, shoot before I make a hole in your skull! Shoot with the machine gunno, go throw a cannon. That b*stard is the Kanma! Ah, Kanma! Now realizing the identity of him, the person, and b*stard was the same, the subordinate sucked in his breath. Without time to even finish hearing his commanders instructions, he blew hard on the recorder, which was the length of three finger widths. Beep beep beep Beeeep beep Beeeeep The piercing sound waves broke through the sound of gunshots. It was a rule that womens high pitched voices stayed staccato while a mans voice rumbled. The rear supervising unit heard the sound and blew their recorders in the same manner. Three short sounds referred to a mortar, one long sound noted the distance, and the long sound that was dragged out meant first priority. It was the FROLINATs unique signaling method, as they didnt have steel powder. Black Mamba ran at his highest speed despite the wound in his left calf. There were 1,000 feet left until he reached his marked concealment object. Because shadow steps required him to run in a zig-zag, he was, in fact, running 1,500 feet, which meant that he was left vulnerable for 40 seconds. Black Mamba didnt care. A first rated sniper took three seconds to mark a moving target and 0.5 seconds to shoot. Within 3.5 seconds, he moved 130 to 165 feet, and his direction changed twice. This meant that he was impossible to snipe. If they wanted to catch him, they would have to use a shell. Ahmud felt as though he was on fire. A human who ran across the desert at the speed of a horse, it was stunning to the point that he lost his words. That single moment of exclamation was all it took for him to reach the rocky surface. What are you doing?! Shoot, shoot! Ahmud shouted. Beep Beeep There was the sound of a moving mortar shell. A mortar had a lengthy flight time and slow speed due to its high degree of launch and fuel charged descent. It wasnt a weapon that could target one point, either. In Black Mambas point of view, it was annoying, but not a threat. Of course, if several mortars were joined to launch a larger explosion, then he wouldnt have been able to escape. Black Mamba was in a condition with all of his senses unleashed. The shell that had approached him at 1,000 feet was caught directly on his radar. He immediately calculated the degree and distance. He swiveled to the right and jumped 50 feet. Bang The first shell landed at a 100 feet in front of him and dug a useless hole. The second shell fell someplace closer to where he had turned and created a pillar of sand. Those damned f*ckers! Black Mamba spewed profanities as he leaped out of the explosions range with his Four Paced Movement. Fireworks fell on the place he had just been standing. TNT and RDX were usually used in high explosives. Those b*stards had filled it with a paraffin-coated cyan compound. The fireworks which exploded everywhere burned the sand, sizzling. With a series of popping noises, the Degtyarev poured out bullets as best as it could, but it only raised some dust to the left and right of Black Mamba. It was impossible for a shooter who relied on moonlight to catch up to Black Mambas speed of light. Three high explosives, and three-inch recoilless cannons were launched, but they lacked the capability to catch Black Mamba, who was sprinting at an uneven pace. There was nothing more to say about the old machine gun, which used a 47 bullet magazine. He had passed 1,000 feet in 40 seconds. Two large rocks the size of wardrobes were laid against each other ahead of him. This was his targeted resting place. Black Mamba, who jumped against the ground, threw his arms open and rolled once in the air as though he was tumbling before going back down. It was a method of Flying Display. His large build burrowed into the small hole as though he had measured it. You damn b*stards, Ive had enough of shells at Er Ekdim. Now its your turn to taste them. Black Mamba was incensed with anger. He was tired of shells. On top of that, those b*stards had shot incendiary bombs, too. He shouted and began to search for the guy who had blown the recorder. He was the b*stard who had been caught on his anger radar. Ha! He had disappeared like a ghost. He was a b*stard with an amazing sense for danger. Bang Bang Two shells landed on his obstacle in a row, but they couldnt do anything to the large rocks. Black Mamba immediately began sniping. He had sprinted 1,600 feet, but not a single breath was out of place. It was due to his increasingly high oxygen intake ability. Any Korean man who chose to be conscripted knew for a fact that breathing controlled 90 percent of a snipers accuracy. Of course, this was the same for the spawn of darkness. In the past, if the Korean army didnt like recruits, so they tortured them with PT training fearfully and made them go up the shooting range afterward. Their scores were obviously bad. The next was obvious. With their scores as an excuse, the pick-ax began to dance around and cut people. The distance to the annoying mortar was 3,000 feet, and outside of the Dragunovs shooting range, but he wasnt concerned at all. He activated his inner eye for the first time in a long time. The three-inch mortar manning team drew closer before his eyes, as though he was watching through a large telescopes lens. His inner eye was different from his sensory eye. If he raised his wavelengths and used his sensory eye, he could feel emotions. It was, to the word, his brain looking out. On the other hand, the inner eye used the actual eye to capture objects. It was the difference between retrospection and realism. The FROLINAT soldiers didnt have any defense against snipers. There was no tension. He could even see them smiling with their teeth exposed. Did they drug themselves? It was long-distance, but an open target was no problem at all. Clang The one loading the mortar who had been about to place the shell fell onto the ground. Clang, clang, clang The confused gunner, observer, and powder loader simultaneously spewed blood. Who would have imagined they would be sniped from 3,000 feet? The two-inch mortars shooter, who was a similar distance away, also gained a hole in his head. Following that, blood spurted out of the loaders chest. The recoilless gun shooter and his assistant 2,800 feet away also had their heads blown up immediately after. He was putting the inner eye he had gained through the rough beating on his superior physique to the best use. Mouris, Miguel, Ive avenged you, although the real people I should be dealing with arent them. Now, shall we begin for real? Black Mamba, who had just wiped out the rear long-range shooting team, began his vanguard clean-up. Infantries could never be looked down on. All wars ended with infantries. Now, dear FROLINAT ground dogs, its showtime. Clang Clang Clang The Dragunov vomited out its dry bullets in a line. The two guerrillas who were hiding behind a sparse mound of grass felt their heads explode. They were the panzerfaust duo who had troubled the mercenaries the most. Clang Clang Clang The two guerrillas who had been launching grenades behind a rocks crevice faceplanted. Following them, the RPG snipers were sniped down. Black Mambas first target while sniping was always the supporting firearms. If even a single part of their bodies were revealed, their lives were forfeit, or their limbs were thrown far away. There was even a guerrilla who had the tip of his nose blown off from exposure. Ahmud had hidden behind the armored vehicle the moment Black Mamba hid behind his obstacle. The only northern commander who had experienced Black Mambas fearsome actions several times was Ahmud. He hid his body without a second of hesitation. Huh, whats happening. No way?! Ahmud suddenly felt as though the tide of the battle had changed. The supporting firearms had started to die down. Beginning with the mortar, the grenade launchers, Allah wand, and even the machine guns began to die down. It was the curse of Kanma that his subordinates had talked of. Scary b*stard! Ahmud slowly raised his mirror from behind the armored vehicle. Clink The mirror shattered the moment he attempted to check the front. Ack! Frightened, Ahmud immediately crouched down. The bullet had flown at the moment the mirror was pushed out. The mirrors diameter was but one inch, and his distance from the b*stard was at least 1,300 feet. This was the fearsome sniping of Kanma, who had destroyed his unit at Toko Toom and erased the command post of Coromunga. Ahmud didnt even dare to raise his head. The threatening explosions began to decrease suddenly. The grenades and RPGs also silenced their breaths. Black Mamba joining the fray appeared as a blessing to the Ratel team and a nightmare to the FROLINATs. With the mortar, recoilless rifle, and RPG silenced, the firepower of the Ratel team regenerated. Burimer, who was out of grenades, picked up his M60 machine gun. Burimers machine gun covered Miguels absence. Mike, who was also relieved of his burden of returning bullets, began to snipe easily as though he was picking out weeds. As expected of our big brother. Black Mamba had captured the mortar he had failed to. Jang Shin raised his head, which had been shoved between rocks, and started his mortar once more. The vanguards who had passed the tripwire were his targets. Bang Bang Bang Jang Shin began to throw high explosives at a speed of one per every two seconds. By 30 seconds, he had used four boxes of bullets. The result was devastating. The 30 or so guerrillas who had gained the advance path inward had died. Jang Shin, theres only one box of shells left. Damn, and they said youd be ill if the battle dragged out! An explosions devil without any shells was like a woman who met her lover on her period. Sergeant Bell Man, you should go act as Black Mambas servant. Jang Shin acted as though he was a protective husband handing off his lover to a guest. Got it. Be careful. Bell Man ran through the bullet-raining battlefield without looking back. His main profession was doctor, but Bell Man was a mercenary. He ran through the battlefield steadfastly. Black Mamba, hah, haaa! Bell Man, why are you here? This isnt a hotel. Its dangerous. Black Mamba looked at Bell Man, who was panting as though his breath would end with displeased eyes. Haa, ha, theres no place safe on the battlefield. The safest place is right next to you. Black Mamba checked his ammunition. He had used three rounds while cleaning out the guerrillas who were aiming for a rear attack and two for suppressing the rear firearms support. All he had was one prepared ammunition. There were over 100 guerrillas left. If youre here, work for your food. Black Mamba threw five empty cartridges at Bell Man. The fact that a sniper possessed six cartridges of twenty bullets itself was an absolutely unquestionable mystery. And the bullets? Bell Man shouted as though he had to scream. If Black Mamba ran out of ammunition? He didnt even want to think about it. Black Mamba took out 600 rounds of bullets wrapped in paper from his backpack. There was no need for words. Damn, why am I always slaving for the lower ranks? At least its better than being a warhead shuttle. Bell Man began to fill up the Dragunovs cartridges with a frightening speed while complaining. It was something his partner Emil should have been doing, but Emil was currently watching the rear. Sniping was Black Mambas job, and bullet shuttling was his. Bell Man used the hands that normally treated bullet wounds to fill in cartridges that would cause bullet wounds. This was a battlefield after all. Jang Shin, who had finished using his remaining five high explosives, looked at his Pamus communication device. C Jang, shove your head back in. Black Mambas warning rang out across the headset. Chapter 80 - A Desperate Escape C Monster! Jang Shin left his last complaint before shoving his head back in a safe place. Bullets rained down on the rocks surface. Jang Shin, who felt a chill running down his spine, lost all of his confidence to grab a gun. To be able to read his movements from several hundred feet away in the midst of his sniping, the shooter truly had to be a monster. He recalled a scene from a trending martial arts novel in his country. There was a pointless joke in which a master spread a sensory vein around his body like a net to read the movements of his surroundings. He didnt know he would ever see it himself. Black Mambas sniping began from the front. The Dragunov poured out clanging explosive noises. The FROLINATs camp, which was exposed on its side, was immediately washed out. The place the captain had chosen to be their camp was in the midst of open grounds. Aside from the few rocks and withering grass, there was nowhere to hide. On top of that, there was only forward for the guerrillas who had inhaled Jenkem. To Black Mamba, these were great conditions. They jumped out, painting themselves as targets, making it easy to pick them off like picking up acorns during the fall. The three-in-a-row sniping continued. The advancing group which had passed the tripwire was swept away like falling autumn leaves. Black Mamba usually targeted the middle of the head, because the sacrificed died without a chance to feel any pain. It was the only grace a sniper could give his enemy. But now, he targeted the carotid artery and heart. The carotid artery, the aorta in the thigh, and the heart were the places blood spilled the most. At first, thighs could be considered a non-lethal part of the body, but that was wrong. If that place was damaged there wouldnt be enough time to apply first aid. The soldier who was leading the forefront had his neck blown off halfway. His blood sprayed into the air like a fountain. A second soldier who filled his place had his chest explode with blood. Black Mamba was already on his thirtieth death from killing those who were at the front, purely by means of blowing up heads and exploding hearts. The guerrilla who had his thigh shot rolled on the ground with loud cries. The blood that flowed out of the aorta filled his vision. A devastating, unspeakable scene unfolded under the bright moonlight. Pools of blood soaked the sand, and the sharp scent of blood floated around. Even if they were rugged, their survival instincts were still alive. The guerrillas, who hesitated, soon fell into chaos. The falling blood, blood, blood! And the cruel death scenes and the fear of being sniped pressed down on their impulsive desires brought about by the drug. Kanma, the Kanma is here! Ahhh, Kanma! The guerrillas who were advancing began to hide their bodies in groups. Those f*cking b*stards, namuamitabul! Black Mamba, who had reached his objective, breathed out a sigh. He had purposefully sniped people to create a sea of blood to instill fear, but he couldnt shake off his own discomfort. For now, the advancement had been held back. His sniping was delayed, but his comrades safety was first. He began to pick out the concealed guerrillas in a more comfortable manner, like an assassin. There were two ways to hide from Black Mambas sniping. One was to hide behind an obstacle that could stop a bullet with the momentum of a 3600J. The other was to increase the distance between them beyond 4,000 feet in instant transportation. Of course, neither were choices the guerrillas could make. Clang Blood sprayed over the sand every time a bullet rang. The bullets from the supervising unit flew towards those who had turned their backs in fear. The guerrillas who were unable to run here or there turned into stray dogs and began to dig trenches like crazy. There were also brave guerrillas who grabbed their guns and concealed themselves quickly. On the battlefield, brave people were the first to die. They had their heads pierced and limbs broken without reservation. The guerrillas who were advancing with high morals began to mess up their formation. They didnt dare use their deadly weapons. They were sniped the moment they dared to lift their guns. The power of a god sniper was displayed across the vast field. Tides were hard to turn in games and war once they swayed heavily to one side. The FROLINAT sides atmosphere turned into one akin to the cornered side of a chess game. As expected of Black Mamba! The captain lowered his red hot Minimi gun. It had been a dangerous moment. Black Mamba had caught all the enemys supporting firearms the moment the enemy was about to surge forward. If Black Mamba had joined even 30 seconds later, they would have been decimated. But an enemy not doing their best was no longer threatening. They werent Black Mamba, so they didnt have the ability to thwart an advancing army and snipe concealed enemies. He felt a strong urge to relieve himself as he lowered his guard. Finding some time, he unbuckled his pants and took out his junk. Ha, Id been scared. The strong thing had recoiled in like a turtle into its shell. Mike put down the night viewer and watched Black Mambas sniping with a vacant expression. He unknowingly took his finger off the Dragunovs trigger. They were 820 feet from him, but it was a 1,600-foot distance from Black Mamba. He couldnt consider the man who erased unseen enemies without rest a human. Even while he watched, ten or so guerrillas who attempted to rush forward rolled to the ground. Ive been done in by that monster! Suddenly, he was proud of his bravery. He had looked down on that Asian yellow-skinned guy at Calvi and ended up broken. He had always been frightened when looking at him but still had some lingering woes. For a sergeant to be beaten up by a private, that was an impossible rule. The only reason he had forced himself on the Ratel team was in order to maybe put a blade on Black Mamba. But instead of getting close to him with a blade, he was beaten to a pulp for leaving his partner Mark alone. The Black Mamba he had known was the real deal. He was fear, in a word. Korean Park was human, but Black Mamba on the battlefield was a devil. He was a devil when met as a foe and a guardian angel when met as a friend. Yeah, hes my comrade. Now that he had acknowledged the fact, his heart settled. He felt the last of his ill feelings disappear without a trace. The captain raised a thumb at Mike. Mike also raised a thumb. A bright smile was on his dirty, greasy face. Black Mamba had emptied ten magazines of 20 bullets. It had been ten minutes since he had started sniping. He had wasted over half of his bullets on warning shots. Preventing them from gaining forward ground was as important as killing. His gun barrel had moved over 330 feet trying to snipe and suppress advancements at the same time. He felt as though his eyes would pop out. Fifty minutes into the battle, both sides had long stopped hearing explosions. Even the gunshots that rang through the desert began to die down. Only the Dragunov puked out dry shots in five to ten-second intervals. Ahmud was drenched in cold sweat. His left cheek tickled. When he rubbed over it with his hand, blood splattered off. It was then that the pain reached his nerves. One ear kept ringing. His ear had flown off with his snipe. The moment he pushed his face out once more to check the battlefield, he had been sniped. The enemys shooting speed was more fearsome than his chilling accuracy. He had rolled in battlefields for over 20 years. He filtered out the b*stards gunshots in the midst of the deserts silence. Even a high-ranking sniper needed at least three seconds to mark and shoot a target. The targeting time took longer the further the shooting distance was. The Kanmas shooting distance was 1,600 feet, and he had pressed his face out one second after the sound. Logic didnt work here. A bullet had immediately flown at him. He had marked and shot a target smaller than half a palm in 0.5 seconds. Ahmud clenched the remaining half of his left ear and shivered. If he had poked his face out even half an inch more he would have immediately taken a camel to heaven. That b*stard wasnt someone like Kanma, but the Kanma himself. He had lost his will to fight. I need to retreat. Ill die even if I do retreat. It was time to retreat, but Habibs cold face made it impossible for him to turn his back. The battlefields tide changed once more. The guerrillas who had been in hiding popped out. They had been unable to bear the soundless deaths, but it was the last stretch. Warriors, conceal yourselves. Do not advance. Drag the battle out. The vanguards, who received Ahmuds instructions, repeated, Dont advance. Conceal. The FROLINAT army werent idiots. They dug a deep trench and hid, like humans who had lived in the Sahel as their hometown. The broken armored vehicle and sparsely scattered rocks also provided a hiding place. Forty minutes had passed since the battle began. The captain began to contemplate. Black Mamba had shoved the enemys morale into the ground, but those who were alive rebelled tenaciously. It was a reenactment of the trench warfare during World War I. His concern was whether to attack around the right and left sides or maintain their formation. Of course, Black Mamba would resolve everything after time passed, but time was the problem. Should I ask Black Mamba to get rid of them all in close combat? He was swayed by the temptation, but the captain shook his head. He remembered the nightmare at Er Ekdim Valley. Black Mamba had battled desperately against the main army with firearms all on his own. It was his hearts debt, and he didnt want to weigh it down once more. Their largest handicap was time. Time was on the enemys side. Black Mamba kept catching those moles, but it took time. If any reinforcements appeared Just thinking about it was horrendous. Ah, right, rifle grenades, shouted the captain suddenly. The enemys firepower was suppressed by Black Mamba. They could now pour it in relatively relaxed. Until now, the rifle grenades had been a burden taking up space. They were uncomfortable to use and lacked accuracy. The rifle grenade was one of the dead children of Frances weapons manufacturers, a dinosaur. C Everyone, use your rifle grenades. C Oh! Instead of agreement, exclamations poured in. The rifle grenades lacked so much presence that the team members had forgotten their existence. C Jang Shin, distribute the rifle grenades. C Yes, sir. Jang Shin rolled towards the distribution point like a spinning top himself. A rifle grenade was different from a grenade. Common citizens recognized grenades, but not rifle grenades. Rifle grenades first appeared in World War I. Examining the launching process, a rifle grenade required a separate blank and adapter. First, the adapter had to be inserted into the muzzle in order to insert the blanks. Then, the grenade was inserted at the front of the adapter. When the trigger was pulled, the blank exploded, sending the grenade off through gas pressure. Here, there were two cons. A separate adapter and blank were needed. It meant that a day would pass trying to insert a blank and grenade in the middle of a battle. Even if there were several rifle grenades, if the adapter didnt work, the whole thing was rubbish. The next problem was accuracy. Its recoil was just as frightening, since it was launched by gas pressure. The accuracy fell accordingly. Not even Explosions Devil Jang Shin surpassed a 70 percent accuracy on making it land where he wanted it to land. On the other hand, its destructive power surpassed a one and a half-inch grenade. A one and a half-inch grenades destructive power was two-thirds of a hand grenades. A rifle grenade was two times more powerful than that. This was the only positive the French Defence Administration had pointed out. Several countries favored the grenade launchers, but Frances Defence Administration, in its useless stubbornness, insisted on producing rifle grenades. It was unquestionable that the dinosaur GIAT company had lobbied for it. In short, the captain, Burimer, Mike, Jang Shin, and Bell Man all started shooting bullets at once. The sniper teams rifle shots showed considerable precision. Bang Bang Bang The rifle grenade was famed for its loud launching sound and recoil. Every time they shot the thing, their backs bent backward. The guerrillas who were hiding from Black Mambas sniping suddenly fell under fire. An air-launched grande was impossible to avoid. Ack! Aaaaah! The guerrillas screams after having their bodies ripped apart by the scattering fragments rang around the desert. Bang, bang, bang, clang, bang, bang, clang The rifle grenades sounds and the Dragunovs shots strummed a chord. The guerrillas who attempted to fight back against the rifle grenades were exposed and shot without fail. The launching of rifle grenades and sniping created a wonderful harmony. Ahmud plastered himself like a sticky rice cake to the armored vehicle, the suspension of which had crashed, in order to avoid Black Mambas sniping. Another ten plastered themselves in a row to his front and back. There were another ten pressed against another tanks outer wall like gum. It was a miserable sight. The guerrillas whose drugs had worn off shivered with chattering teeth. Chills and nausea were Jenkems side effects, but the fear was more effective. Their comrades were being ripped apart by rifle grenades fragments, their necks ripped off and chests pouring blood after being sniped. It was a scene from hell recreated under the moonlight. Night increased the fear and spread it. The rebelling soldiers who were woken from their drugs were in panic attacks. Crash Finally, a rifle grenade fell on the tank. Aaagh! A sad scream resounded. Chapter 81 - Death is a Mercenarys Friend The three guerrillas who were showered with the second round of fragments rolled on the ground as though they had lost their minds. It was due to the after-effects of Jenkem, which heightened their senses and sent pain signals to the brain without restraint. A Jenkem addict felt pain several times greater than the average person when the drugs effects wore off. Plop, plop, plop The three guerrillas who were rolling on the floor fell silent. The bullets, which had flown from a far distance away, silenced their pain. This displayed Black Mambas benevolence. Tears rolled down Ahmuds face. These werent the sad kind of tears for his subordinates deaths. They werent from his tribe, so it didnt matter to him whether they lived or died. He was crying out of anger and frustration. Allah, did you send the Kanma in order to punish me?! Why did you birth me in this land, only to send that b*stard here! The Kanma had erased his personal guards, Hazis team, and joined the battle fray. He was the stupid one to have waited for Hazis rear attack. He had been thinking that those frog b*stards were strong, but something had definitely been lacking. He should have been more careful. How had he ended up facing that kind of person? He had long broken out of his dreams to become a FROLINAT council member. His survival was the current concern. He rolled his head at the speed of light. As Hazis was dead, his last hope had also disappeared. As long as such a person existed, it spelled the end for FROLINAT. No, he was in the wrong for stepping right into the eye of death. Ahmud looked around at the ten or so soldiers who were choking in fear. They were all dead. He had dragged in a large army of 265 people, and all that had remained was them and six others who resisted sporadically. Either way, they were going to die at the Kanmas hands or the fragments of the rifle grenades. To that Kanma b*stard, numbers were useless. A single person to control the tides of a gunfire battle in modern warfarethere was nothing more unbelievable. The strength drained from his body. His life became meaningless. There had already been an annihilation army-wise, and disintegration biology-wise. What could he possible do with twenty cowardly people shivering in fear? Bang The armored vehicle jumped. Ugh, that f*cking b*stard! Ahmuds teeth chattered. There was a b*stard who threw rifle grenades like mad. The armored vehicle jumped every 20 seconds. It had already received four shots. That b*stard was also a fearsome guy. It was as though he wanted to dismantle the tank. If their shelter disappeared, that was it. Run? That wouldnt last a second against the Kanma. He was someone who took out an explosives team from 3,000 feet away. Running wasnt going to work at all. Ha! He automatically sighed. Would I be able to catch the Kanma? He was someone who could slip out of the concentrated fire of mortar and recoilless rifles like an eel. Unless they targeted him with a large diameter artillery, there was no way to catch the Kanma. It meant that, realistically, it was near impossible. He decided on a retreat. No, he considered a resignation. Although he would excuse himself to Habib, he couldnt make excuses in front of the Kanma. That b*stard was rumored to rip the skin off a human alive. He was more scared of the Kanma than Habib. That was the reason behind his determination to resign. Ahmuds survival method was to rely on his animalistic instincts to understand when to retreat. Officer, send the retreat signal. His subordinate immediately took out the recorder and blew. Beep Beep Beep The hidden guerrillas scattered like ants as though they had waited for the signal. Rifle grenades and sniping bullets chased after the sprinting guerrillas backs. Even the rifle grenade that was continuously marking the tank moved towards the running guerrillas. Yes, thats your last assignment and loyalty. Ahmuds eyes looked at the old ants, oecophylla smaragdina, luring the fire and sniping away, emotionless. Here, the old and young werent an issue of age, but an issue of conception. Ahmud didnt budge from his rigid posture. His subordinate suddenly found his respect rising. Commander, you should go. Allah will protect us. Ahmud glanced back. There was a deep trench dug behind the armored vehicles backside. It had been the machine guns camp. Of course, the machine gun shooter had a large hole in his head. That damned Allah, what did I do wrong to send that sort of evil spirit after me? These were disrespectful words, but his subordinate didnt hear them as they had been murmured. Ahmud jumped into the trench. Subordinate, bury me. Commander, theres no reason to go this far You piece of sh*t, bury me when I tell you to! Ahmud shouted. The subordinates eye welled with respect. To decide to bury himself alive, taking responsibility for their defeat, his commander truly lived up to his name. There are many b*stards who curse you for being an opportunistic person, commander. Ill hang all of their heads. I respect you. Yessir! Ahmud found it ridiculous. He had basically ordered someone he bossed around to mock him. The subordinate, whose loyalty had risen, began to dig rapidly with a shovel. When his body was covered with sand, Ahmud pulled out a pipe similar to an IV line from his robe and sneakily pushed it through the ground. That moron, that b*stards not going to live long either. People who act as though theyre morally good or extremely kind never live long. Bang Jang Shins rifle grenade crashed against the tank for the fifth time. Crash The vehicle that had received a row of rifle grenades finally broke apart, unable to bear the shots. The iron plates fell to the ground, and the outer dome crashed inwards. It was, as expected, a weak product made out of thin iron plates. One side of the iron plate fell over the trench Ahmud was buried in and became a lid. The subordinate, who was still holding a shovel, spun once on the spot before falling. The shards of the rifle grenade had dug through half of his neck. Ahmuds fifth officer hadnt lasted a few days before dying, too. Ahmud was definitely a subordinate murderer. A thick silence descended on the battlefield. The white smoke and stench of blood moved with the wind. It was the largest battle the mercenaries had ever fought in. The captain was the first to climb out of the trench. His face, covered with sweat and dust, only revealed his white eyes. He could barely control his shaking arms and legs to crawl out due to the overflow of adrenaline. The gravity weighing on his eyelids seemed ten times stronger. He wanted to fall down and sleep then and there, but there was too much to do. There was also Black Mamba, who had been fighting all night with his injured body without rest. Although he wasnt human, he was certainly still his subordinate. He forced his falling heavy eyelids open. There was so much to do. C Battle over. Burimer, are you alive? C Yes, sorry for living. Burimer climbed out of the rocks. All of the sandbags he had placed in front of the rocks had exploded, leaving the remains of a hundred bullets. Are you injured? Blood was trickling down Burimers forehead. It must have been ripped open by a stray bullet or torn against a fragment of rock. He wiped his forehead with his palm. Its a small scratch. Disinfect it immediately. Theyve retired. We need to retire, too. Yes, sir. Ill be sure to send you the nights fee. The bills should be piled high at the records. Hehe, Im planning to go to Concordia and vacation for a week around the world once I get back. Ive heard that Concordia has a separate place for fishing. Its the perfect place for you. Lets go together. Hm, if Black Mambas going, Im going too. Why Black Mamba? The pay hes going to receive will be immense. We should share, eh? Hahaha! The two relieved their tension with white lies. C Black Mamba? C Yes, sir. C Hows the rear? C Thirty-six cleared. Emils on watch. C Good! Call him over. The members gathered one by one. Everyone wore tired and depressed expressions. Black Mamba approached with Miguels corpse on his shoulder, while Bell Man arrived with the upper half of Mouris body. There hadnt been time to find his lower half. The living team members looked down at Mouris and Miguel with sad faces. Mouris had lost his right arm and everything below his hip. Miguel had been killed by a bullet through the skull. Dead without pain. At Black Mambas words, everyone nodded. At least that was a relief. The living werent able to open their mouths. They could only stare down at their comrades who had turned into mounds of protein. The captain spoke through clenched teeth. Everyone, you did well. It was my fault for setting up camp in an open field. If Black Mamba had been 30 seconds later, we would have all died. Mouris and Miguel have lost their lives protecting their comrades. All the mercenaries nodded. Black Mamba had returned just before the enemy had surged forward. They would have been finished in that second. Why, Miguel! Mouris, you idiot! You impatient b*stard, you should have died after paying me back. Aaaah! Looking at their comrades pitiful states, their suppressed tears erupted. They hadnt even realized their comrades deaths, too busy fighting. No, they had sensed it when their firepower went down. They had only denied the truth. Mourning is possible only for the living. Weve lived, and we need to return alive. Miguel, Im sorry. I sent you off without even treating you, Bell Man cried, clutching his corpse. Aah, ah, Mouris, Im sorry. If you live, I wouldnt even mind being beaten up by Black Mamba again. Sob, I mean, Ive been beaten up anyway, but live if you can. Mike began to ramble things that didnt make sense. Not even the hard-headed, rough mercenaries were able to stop their tears because of their comrades deaths. Everyone, maintain your calm. We dont even have time to organize the battlefield. The mercenaries, shaken back to reality by the Captains scolding, dragged their heavy feet and moved busily. Jang Shin inherited Mouris job and began to take records with pictures. It was hard to even gather their equipment with the few members they had. Black Mamba, who was returning to camp with Miguel in his arms, stopped walking. What is it? Bell Man asked. A thick teardrop rolled down Black Mambas face. Bell Mans heart dropped. Chartres? Black Mamba nodded without a word. He couldnt sense Chartres life force. Only the dim aura of death hovered around. The groups pace became faster. Bell Man ran into the tent in a hurry. The group who returned to the camp faced another painful reality. Chartres, who had been left alone at the camp, had died. The reason behind his death was muscle constriction that had stiffened beyond his limit and uneven breathing. Stiffening muscles caused immense pain. Chartres face was extremely crumpled, the evidence of his torture. Intelligent mercenary Chartres had died in torture without a single comrade by his side. The stiffened muscles didnt relax, even when Bell Man massaged them to his best abilities. His skin was still hard like wood. Chartres, you b*stard, how dare a mercenary die from something like tetanus?! Burimer wailed as he punched the cots wooden beams. Black Mamba was unable to take his hands off Chartres body. He felt as though the body would disappear once he let go. He had suffered through many deaths, but Chartres death was special. He had been his friend and mentor. God, where are you? Do you not exist in this devastated and rough land? Tell me why they had to die and why I have to suffer so much. Do I need to earn my foods worth? I knew working for debts was scary, but was it so expensive that it had to be paid with lives?! Black Mamba, why are you searching for God all of a sudden? Chartres was an atheist. We need to set up his funeral and go. Jang Shin, unlike his usual self, stopped Black Mambas rambling. The way his voice started to rise harshly was worrying. When a predator went wild, no one would be capable of stopping it. Agh Chartres, aaaaaah! And as Jang Shin feared, the monsters wail rang out. The wavelengths which were mixed with anger and fear clashed against the cliffs surface. The cliff rumbled, and rocks started to fall. The mercenaries, frightened, ran out of the tent with their ears covered. Chartres, Chartres! The desert rang with desperate howls. The mercenaries eyes turned red as one. He wasnt a monster. Hes a human, Mike whispered to Burimer. No, a sad monster who wants to become a human, Burimer said with a wet voice. Chartres hadnt been able to escape his Central European point of view but was knowledgeable in recent and current events. He was also knowledgeable in Eastern Asian ideas and theologies. The comrades were now unable to listen to Chartres valuable lectures. Black Mamba, who had poured out a wave of sadness, slid Chartres eyes shut. The eyelids Bell Man hadnt been able to close fell down gently. He relaxed each of Chartres stiffened facial muscles one by one by using his resonance. He felt empty. What was the point of amassing decades worth of knowledge with such effort?! He had been done in by a small creature invisible to the eye. A bullet that weighed less than an ounce could make a heap of protein. Bell Man ran an autopsy on Chartres. The cause of death had been the pentobarbital he had injected to fight against the tetanus, which had caused a worse reaction. The overdosed pentobarbital had caused a rapid heart rate. Bell Man blamed his shallow depth of medical knowledge. Pain, sadness, depression, and unjust negative feelings floated around in excess. Chapter 82 - Death is a Mercenarys Friend The western side of Singapores Marina Bay was lined with large and small refrigerators and fisheries. Singapore had the second largest fish consumption per person after Japan. Singapore itself didnt have a high catching rate. Over half of the consumed fish was exported to Japan. Most of its storage places were to store products for exporting fisheries. There was an old 50 square foot storage container along the western side of the road, which was always closed. Inside the storage were the remains of fish scattered across the cement floor. There were boxes stocked with salted fish along one side, plus fishing equipment. It was a common sight in fishery storage containers. In the corner of the storage was a large fish tank, used for breeding farmed fish. No one knew there was a secret set of stairs leading underground beneath it. Creek Clang A sleek car stopped in front of the storage container, and the door opened. The cement walls greeted the visitor without color, still depressingly gray. The single 200-watt white lightbulb on the ceiling spluttered, unable to push away the darkness. The healthy man who had grown his combed hair to his neck entered the storage as though he was sliding in. The man in an original Armani suit topped with Ray-Bans that showed off his handsome features, comparable to those of a movie star. Unlike his handsome features, the mans gray eyes were unmoving, like a fishs dead eyes, but even those enhanced his charismatic features. The golden-haired man looked around the storage and helped a woman out of the car. She was a young white woman with flowing golden hair. The woman swayed as though she was drunk. The blond man pushed the tank with surprising strength. The ten-foot-long tank moved helplessly. He had strength comparable to a grizzly bear. When the tank was moved, an opening appeared. The blond man opened the panel attached to the wall and pushed a button. A ladder slid down from the opening. The man went down the ladder with the woman on his arm without hesitance. The underground, unlike the storage house, was bright as day, to the point they could see the dust floating off the floor. The long, thin fingers lifted a sharp surgical scalpel from the bed. On the bed were other weapons of all kinds, like sashimi knives, claw hammers, bombs, axes, daggers, and much more in a row. Perhaps he didnt like how dull its blade was, but he placed the scalpel down and picked up the electronic saw instead. It was a saw usually used to cut frozen tuna. The lifeless eyes, comparable to those of a dead fish, glanced back. He could see the thin neck of his sacrifice and placed the chainsaw back down. The blade, which was mismatched on its right and left sides, would destroy the sacrifices muscles and bones uselessly. It wouldnt do for a humans structure to be destroyed by a chain, as its quality would decrease. What he chose after much deliberation was a piano wire. With seven cords of 0.01-inch wire, the material was a combination of tungsten and chromium. Made under specially requested specifics, its surface was coated with diamond dust. It was one of his most beloved objects. This was it. That days operation tool was going to be the piano wire. He felt excited when he chose his tool. The vibration of the sacrifice trembling against the piano wire gave another kind of excitement in and of itself. He felt an orgasm rising from within that he hadnt felt even when he caught a 22-pound tuna at the northeastern end of America. His body trembled at the expectation of his high. Mm! The woman regained consciousness. It was the right time. The golden-haired man was proud of his skills. Targeting sacrifices according to their physical aspects and age so that they would wake at a certain time was his secret skill. He had only taped the sacrifices mouth and committed no violence. Despite that, the weak sacrifice was sitting still, unable to move. Hic! The woman hiccuped as she came to her senses. Her mouth was taped shut. The strange sound of her hiccups rang across the basement. A yellow liquid leaked out between the sacrifices legs. The blond man frowned. Weakness was a sin. Weak things always ruined his mood. That days sacrifice was a fresh 20-year-old woman. Gray eyes slowly examined the woman. Her height was five feet and seven inches, a bust of 36 inches, a waist of 24, and hips at 36 inches. She weighed 139 pounds. Her body measurements were delivered to his brain with a single sweep. She was pretty, sexy, and glamorous, perfect to feel that sparking sensation. She was apparently a visitor from Australia, but whether she lived there or was born in the United States was none of his concern. She was a woman who followed him out of interest in his handsome features and blond hair. The vague kiss marks on her neck were a trace he had left behind. She might have been lured by all the brands he wore on his body. Either was fine. The fact that she was there was more important. There were grips attached to either end of the piano wire. When he turned around with the wire in hand, the woman sat up. Survival instincts exceeded her fear. Mm, mmph! Haha! A burst of moan-like laughter leaked out of the mans mouth. It was his first humane reaction since he had entered the underground basement. His adrenaline increased when the sacrifice attempted to protect itself in such a weak manner. Unfortunately, the woman was unable to take more than two steps. The blond man grabbed her hair roughly as though she was bouncing out of place. The woman was dragged into the mans body helplessly. The wire whisked around as though it was alive and wrapped itself around the womans thin neck. When the scary wire caught on her neck, the woman began to cry, flooding her face with tears and snot. When the woman resisted, the wire dug into her neck, and blood ran down. When the man applied more strength, the wire slowly started to slice her neck. The woman thrashed around but was unable to overcome the mans power. She was like a young crab being crushed under a polar bears front paw. When the woman moved, the wires slight vibrations gave a rhythm that dug into his sexual senses. The blond man trembled at the height of his excitement. Giving in, his underwear was soon soaked. Soon, the woman trembled once more before ceasing to move. The blond man slowly sawed away with the wire. Blood began to spew out of the sliced vein on her neck. A white body that had collapsed in a puddle of blood was the realistic art he loved madly. He didnt insist on white people, but white skin contrasted better with the red blood, rather than yellow or black skin. The man breathed in deeply. The thick smell of blood pushed out any scrap of a thought in his head. His heavy head grew lighter. The man admired his artwork for more than ten minutes. He felt as though he could suppress his murderous desires for the time being. The man pushed the woman into the 40-gallon fish tank used for breeding. He opened the panel attached to the wall and pushed the button. Formalin, a chemical, was expelled into the tank out of a four-inch golden pipe. When the tank was filled with formalin, he pushed the button and stopped the machine. He then sealed the tank with a resin cover, lifted it up, and placed it upright next to the wall. It was an amazing show of strength. When the liquid was added to a 40-gallon resin tank, it weighed 350 pounds in total. This wasnt a weight a human could carry. There were another 30 resin tanks lining the wall in this exact state. With this, there was another one to his basement collection. Ocelot was his identity, the man who was being chased by Interpol and the United States, alongside 20 other countries, as a legendary killer. He had forgotten his real name, since he had used so many others. All he had left was the code name Interpol had given him. An ocelot was a feline animal that had golden stripes and lived in southern regions of America. The Amazon rainforest was its usual habitat, and it was said that some lived in the southern U.S. and Mexico. It was beautiful to see, but it was a fearsome predator who ate monkeys and deer. It was an Amazon assassin, possessing a felines trademark fierceness and secrecy. The reason for his Ocelot codename was because, unlike his noble features, he possessed a cruel personality of killing and had golden hair. Those whom he sacrificed were always found in a pool of blood. Ocelot was a unique assassin who didnt use guns very often despite being a first-rate sniper. The lingering smell of blood and iron was his only motivation for living. After finishing his work, he pulled out a memo from his front pocket. His long white fingers opened the memo with care. The memo, thrice folded, was no larger than a suit button. Its contents were as simple as its size. [Legion Etranger 11 C Currently at Chad Borkou province. Pays (approx.) 60 thousand dollars] He hadnt received a request for a long time. He wouldnt move if the price was below 50 thousand dollars, so he never managed to have more than two deals per year. That was why he had to relieve his killing desire in this way. The reward of 60 thousand dollars wasnt satisfying, yet he had never killed a mercenary. The new experience prompted his mind. Ocelot took out his lighter and burned the memo. When Ocelot pressed the panel, the ladder appeared from the ground. All that remained in the empty basement was the smell of burning paper and blood. Miguel, Mouris, and Chartres were laid in a row, and the captain approached to grasp their hands tightly, as though he was shaking them. Im sorry. Ill return alive with the team members you sacrificed your lives for. I will shatter the jaws of those who shoved us into this dirty chaos. The captain remained calm. Anger wouldnt help the current situation. He had already lost four major skilled fighters, his subordinates, without a single gain. Even if he killed a thousand FROLINAT members in retaliation, they were meaningless numbers. Mouris and Miguel had died due to his decision. He had chosen the lower ground in consideration of Chartres, but even Chartres had died in the midst of their battle due to a lack of care. Thirty percent of their power was gone due to his wrong decision. He shook his head and threw the despair away. If the captain lost his calm, everyone would become unstable. They had to return in order to crush those who had deceived and abandoned the team. Ugh, ah! The captain looked at Black Mamba, who was choking back his tears. Seems like a nightmare of a battlefield. Azrael has moments when he whines like a woman. Ha, a picture of a crying leopard of Algeria is something that can be plastered across the front pages of the world news. Black Mamba returned the captains harmless mocking. Algerias leopard was Sergeant Pauls nickname. Thanks, Black Mamba. A smile appeared on the captains dry face. Algerias leopard was his forgotten nickname. The nightmare of battlefields, Black Mamba, and Algerias leopard could return as long as they were alive. Burimer reported the current situation. Thirty-six people at the rear, 221 people in front, a total of 257 people were killed. There were none injured. Mm, that should be right. The captain nodded. There was no way someone could have been injured. His subordinates had shot them all. It wasnt something to be blamed for, either. There was nothing funnier than debating the humane side of people on a dirty battlefield. Relieving their pain by killing them was a better form of benevolence. Okay. Seems like the number is about the size of two companies. How many did they put in anyways? Gather all of their weapons and take a break. The captain sent Burimer away and took out his notebook to organize the situation. The detailed before and after reports had been written up by Burimer. They were simple memos. 1. 1982/11/7 Mission: Day 2 1st Battle: Uldi Hamarl Killed: 43 Gathered equipment list: 2. Same day, 2nd Battle: Uldi Hamarl Dead: Sergeant Mark Killed: 185 C enemy leader commander Musta Gathered equipment list: 3. 1982/11/9 Mission: Day 4 Battle: Guradi Ridge Injured: Private Chartres Killed: 57 Gathered equipment list: 4. 1982/11/10 Mission: Day 5 Battle: Toko Toom supply line Killed: 134 Gathered equipment list: 5. 1982/11/11 Mission: Day 6 Battle: Koro Munga 3rd Command Post Black Mamba solo mission Killed: 107 C FAP 3rd command post wiped out. Gathered equipment list: 6. 1982/11/19 Mission: Day 14 Battle: Er Ekdim Valley Black Mamba solo mission Killed 120 (FAP special forces) 4 STRELA2 missile team cleared. Gathered equipment list: 7. 1982/11/22 Mission: Day 17 Battle: Djourab Erg Dead: 3 C Private Chartres, Sergeant Miguel, Sergeant Mouris Killed: 257 Gathered equipment list: Chapter 83 - : Death is a Mercenarys Friend Wow, this is unbelievable! The captain paused in the midst of his note-taking and sighed. Aside from the small skirmishes that had taken place over the course of 24 days, they had fought in seven large-scale battles. There was a small margin of error, but they had killed about a thousand of the enemys soldiers. Even the smaller scouting groups Black Mamba had erased during their move numbered over 50. Simply writing out the progressive report was overwhelming. They would be the first unit in history to fight in such astounding battles! They had killed 257 in just this battle alone. He couldnt imagine how many FROLINATs would have swarmed over had Black Mamba failed to destroy the third command army in Coromunga. During the battles, they had lost four teammates, so what was the point of killing numerous enemies! The role of a captain was to lead the mission to success and bring back the team safely. These had been meaningless battles. Thinking of the mission that had lost its purpose, his subordinates who had died left and right, and their uncertain return, he automatically sighed. He had lost two subordinates while Black Mamba was taking care of the rear. They were basically leaning on Black Mamba in order to survive up to then. The captain turned to look at Black Mamba, who was sitting in a strange position. Black Mamba! A presence that couldnt be called human, the survival and return of the Ratel team were ultimately in his hands. Someone of a unique species who increased his battle abilities by the day, he wouldve been strong enough to take a stroll back to NDjamena while whistling had he not been burdened by the team. The headquarters had sent a colony of FROLINAT ants instead of the requested helicopter. Now, there was no one he could trust. Even Regiment Commander Philip was suspicious. He wasnt questioning the mans morality, but the organizations reliability. Ahmud had attacked the Ratel team through the existing information nets reports. The captain who had lost his calm was still under the misconception that the headquarters were reporting their movements. Due to that, he was about to make another decision born of misunderstanding. This was why preconceptions were fearsome. Burimer! Oui! What do you think of todays attack? Its the same as last time. Our camps location was revealed due to the request for a helicopter. Whether theres a spy or not, we cant trust the headquarters. Burimer also had no choice but to misunderstand the situation. Unfortunately, the captain and Burimer didnt know the fact that the spies had been found in the headquarters. They also didnt realize that Colonel Philip had sent out a rescue team after waiting 48 hours, because their trust had been broken. I think so too. Lets cut off all contact with the headquarters for now. We cant communicate anyways. Our phone line was cut by one of the warheads. At Burimers explosive report, the captains face began to wilt. Sh*t! What about the backup phone? Im sorry. It was lost during the battle. Putain, putain! The captain felt his world tilt. He began to curse naturally in French. It was said that bad things didnt come in ones but twos. Their misfortune couldnt seem to end. Now, there was no way to contact the headquarters. There was no phone booth or post office in Sahel, either. Not contacting and being unable to contact were extremely different. They were now isolated in the vast Sahel wasteland. His breaths suddenly came out short as though he was experiencing one of his phobias. Do you think theyd send a rescue helicopter? They said they would, but that it wasnt easy to take off. No, perhaps theyre not thinking of sending one at all. Behedel (f*ck), est bete de merde (those f*cking idiots!)! Burimers face seemed to crumpled inward. Those were strong curse words for someone like Burimer who usually only used putain or cong as swears. The two men turned their faces to the murky skies above as though a helicopter was about to arrive. There were two more hours until the helicopters approximated time of arrival. Two hours! The captain pressed his mouth closed. He knew it was hopeless, but the situation was too dire to give up hope. Everyone was tired to the bone from fighting violently since dawn. The mercenaries were dozing with guns in their hands. They were at their limit both physically and mentally. If only the helicopter came! He wished for it desperately. The return trip by land was over a mile, and the Ratel team was at a dead end. If they continued to roam around Sahel where FRLOLINATs crowded, they were bound to die. The only person who would survive was Black Mamba. Four people could board the gazelle. If they abandoned all of their weapons, six people could board, albeit squished together. That meant that everyone could be saved, aside from himself and Black Mamba. A plane that could be targeted by airborne missiles? It was a hundred times better to risk the missiles aim than commit to living in hell on earth. This was the red ground, where enemies appeared out of nowhere. Two hours was a long wait. The captain, who was unable to communicate any longer, had to chew on his frustrations and despair while waiting for a helicopter that wouldnt come. Black Mamba was, as always, sitting in the lotus position meditating. The deserts energy that rushed through him invigorated his body. He stood up from his position and exercised his body with the five combined movements. Disbelief filled the eyes of the mercenaries who were dozing on their guns. At six in the morning, the helicopter became a lost cause. They couldnt even protest because their phone line had exploded. The Ratel teams mood was at its lowest despite the ruined major FROLINAT army. They were in a f*cked up situation where they had to sustain themselves with the given local supplies for the time being. There was no way their moods would be good. When day finally broke, the true devastation of the battlefield was revealed. Both sides had waged a full fronted war with mortars, recoilless cannons, grenade launchers, and machine guns. The scattered bullets of mines and claymores had ripped the bodies apart. It was rare to find a body in one piece along the wired defense line. Even the corpses that were sniped had been wrapped up in the explosions on both sides, causing their ruin. There were several corpses that seemed to have dragged their spilled insides along as they tried to crawl. On the other hand, the corpses far from the trip wires were clean. These were the guerrillas who had been sniped by Black Mamba. Its like an ancient cursed land that was reintroduced into humanity! The captain murmured depressingly. Chartres would have talked about the reason behind human existence and blamed their brutality. Hm, is Chartres student still training? At the captains question, Emil pointed at the raised rock. It was the rock Black Mamba had climbed in the early evening. He could see the edge of a white robe fluttering in the wind. Clang, clang, claaang Clang, clang, claang A mournful rhythm rang out. What is he doing? It seems like hes hurting. Of all the things he could do. Black Mamba prayed for the happiness of the dead by banging the end of his weapon handle against the muzzle of his Dragunov. Spirits of Chartres, Miguel, and Mouris, my comrades and I wish for your spirits journey to a longer next life, for your wisdom to flourish, and for your lifes hardships to end, so that youd gain emancipation from the constraints on yourselves to live a better life, for you all to be guided. All four limbs of the body are worthless in the end, so leave all torment behind by realizing the best of your morals to greet Buddha. Your bodily attachments The prayer for their souls was accompanied by the sound of metal instead of wood. The prayer was in beat with a bloodied knife and gun. Tools that brought about death were used as tools to pray for the dead. It was ironic how, instead of a bullet coming out of a gun, a prayer was being shot out. The baritone voice of a lions roaring harmonized strangely with the metal rhythm. The resounding solo echoed across the Djourab Ergs walls and rippled far. The captain, Burimer, Mike, Bell Man, Emil, and Jang Shin all leaned in. The sad lyrics and heavy emotions poked at their hearts. Chartres, my friend, I wont forget your efforts to remain as humane as possible. Mouris, my friend, I will not forget your silent dedication to your role. Miguel, my friend, I will not forget your steadfast and responsible figure. Souls, go to reincarnation, shadows, scatter and make the world more bountiful Clang, clang, claang Clack, clang, clack, clang The thick sound of metal ringing out with the solo dedicated to reassuring the dead fell into a rhythm and melted into the livings hearts. They didnt understand the lyrics, but the unfortunate emotions and earnest heart touched them. Damn, really? Who the hell is that guy? Mike mumbled as he cried. That man has all kinds of strange talents. Hm-hm. Emil wiped his running nose. They were of different races and nationalities, but the mercenaries cried as one. This was Sahel, an evil spirit who beat out music with his gun in the far untouchable air, the angel of death who sang a prayer for souls alone out loud, a sand storm that encouraged the singing devils songs, and people of several races crying. It was in the land of savages, the land where one human couldnt measure up to the price of a camel, Djourab Erg. When the clanging stopped, Ombuti climbed out from between the rocks. He patted down his robe as he stood and looked around at the dimly lit desert. Even the sounds of explosions and gunshots had stopped. Animals that were surprised at the sound had long run or hid. Only the smell of blood remained. Wakil finished them all, he commented briefly before moving along. His lower stomach, which had been unable to relieve itself, had hardened. It had been a fierce fight. He had wanted to relieve himself but checking on his Wakil came first. Ombuti, who was passing the shattered BTR, twitched his ear. It was the sound of whispering sand. Ombuti took out the Tokarev he had received from Black Mamba. Ombuti approached without a sound and stared at the ground with a burning gaze. The Tuareg Tribe, who lived in the desert, had relatively good sight. Despite the dim light, Ombuti found a little pipe that poked out of the ground diagonally. It was a thin white pipe. Ha! What a cockroach. Laughter automatically seeped out. It was a method the Tuareg Tribe used often during ambushes. One of the guerrillas was hidden there. He wanted to dance. After all, he had been feeling guilty about his cowardly actions. Since he had managed to find a captive, he could hold his head up high. Ombuti began to play around and blocked the end of the pipe with his finger. There was an immediate reaction. The large flat iron began to move. Ahmud, inside the ground, felt as though he was about to die. He suddenly couldnt breathe anymore. He tried to blow out, but the blockage didnt budge. Unable to hold on any longer, he tried to move the flat iron, but Ombuti was standing on it, so it obviously didnt move. F*cking hell! The pipe was blocked once more. It was then that Ahmud realized that someone was playing around with him and that it wasnt from a natural cause. Allah, why do your torment your child so?! he despaired. When Ahmuds air supply was blocked a third time, his head started to spin. He lost his strength and remained in a barely lucid state. Schink The iron plate was shoved aside. Ahmud, inside the hole, was only able to move his two arms, which swung around the air aimlessly. Oi, cockroach. Youre a captive. If you follow what I say, I wont hurt you. His fingers twitched. You listen well. Are you a northern soldier? The finger twitched once more. Are you Ahmuds subordinate? This time, the finger moved side to side. Ombuti ripped his headband off and tied up the hands that hovered above the sand with it. Ahmud despaired. His attempt to pull out his gun was long gone. Ombuti dug out the sand with his shovel and pulled Ahmud out roughly. For a FROLINATs third commander to feel such humiliation, Ahmud wanted to bite his tongue off. Whether Ahmud committed suicide by chewing his tongue off or cutting his p*nis off, Ombuti didnt care. All of his attention was on the mans uniform. Ombuti pulled out the handgun that was hanging to the side and laughed. This was a high-ranking b*stard. There was a Tuareg saying that said one would gain a wife while trying to put the lady next door to sleep. In a Korean saying, it would be similar to trying to take gum off of ones shoe but finding a coin on the ground instead. Chapter 84 - Death is a Mercenarys Friend Having caught a large fish, Ombuti felt extremely happy. It was Allahs benevolence and Wakils protection. Allah hu ekbar, what is your rank? Ahmud refused to open his mouth. His current situation, where he was under hostage by an old mercenary, left him in disbelief of his reality. You should reply when I ask. If you meet my master, youll see your skin and blood and brain be broken into pieces with your own eyes. Hehe, you want to know who my master is? Ill tell you without ripping you off of 500 francs. My master is the person you all call Kanma. Ombuti kept playing around. Ah, Ka-Kanma! Shocked, Ahmud began to scream. Ahmuds mouth, which had refused to open the entire time, let out a scream. Ombuti felt proud of himself. A person had to be well-off first. His Wakil had taught him a Korean saying that tigers left their hides and humans left their teeth behind when they died. A FROLINAT commander had nearly fainted at just the name of his master, so he felt proud. A servant was well-off when his master was well-off. That was the tradition of Tuaregs. Blood drained from Ahmuds face. Is it true? Ombuti lifted his chin and announced proudly, You b*stard, why would I lie about this? I swear to Allah that I, Ombuti, am his servant. It was true. There was no reason for an old Tuareg warrior to lie to a hostage. Then are you a part of the Ratel special forces? Ahmud stared at Ombuti as though he was doubting him. Mmhm, were you raised as a fool? Who are you? Ahmud hesitated for a moment before sighing out loud. Haaa, Im done for. It was over. The Tuareg Tribe was known for taking revenge. There were over tens of Tuareg Tribes he had wiped out, so there was no way the old Tuareg warrior would leave him alive. He was, after all, a commander. Since he was going to die anyway, he wanted to die a commander. He looked up at the sky, which was beginning to glow blue. The past days had swept by over his head. Is this the end of me, Colonel Halami Ahmud, who used to treat the entire Sahel like his living room? Regret passed through Ahmuds eyes. Im Ahmud. What? Youre Halami Ahmud? Ombutis dark eyes widened. He couldnt believe that Sahels rule-breaker, Ahmud, had been hiding underneath the ground like a cockroach. This wasnt some large fish, this was THE fish. Ahmud nodded without a word. He turned towards the corpse on the ground thatd had half of its neck cut through. Hes my subordinate. He was loyal, but hes dead now. He spoke as though his dog he had been raising had died. Ombuti felt disgusted. He didnt know what Ahmud looked like. He had heard many rumors that he was indifferent and opportunistic. Considering his tone and personality, it seemed that this truly was him. The nickname of the lawless one of Sahel is wasted on you. Youre a cockroach. Ill let you meet my master who you must want to see. Ombuti dragged Ahmud to the camp. Torture was the mercenaries job. Even if he did resist, he wouldnt last a minute the moment his Wakil picked up a stick. Wait, I dont see Ombuti, Jang Shin shouted. Everyones minds had escaped them after the battle and the deaths of their comrades. Is he dead? Mike commented rudely before flinching and turning to look at Black Mamba. Dont worry. Hes dragging over a hostage. Huh, hostage? Whys he dragging it over? He should have just shot it dead, Mike complained. There he is. Everyones heads turned around at Burimers words. Ombuti was climbing over the dunes with a 40-year-old uniformed man at the forefront. Wakil, Ive returned, Ombuti reported as though he had only left to catch a hostage. Ombuti, you should be reporting to the captain. At Burimers words, the captain waved his hands. Its fine. Ombuti isnt my subordinate, but Black Mambas servant. Why did you drag a hostage over? Theyre difficult to get rid of. Ombuti smiled meaningfully. If you knew who he was, captain, you wouldnt be able to say that. What, is he Commander Ahmud of the third army or something? Yes. He is that very Ahmud. This is Colonel Halami Ahmud of the FROLINATs best army, the third armys commander, Ombuti boasted. What?! All the mercenaries drew in sharp breaths. Hes the b*stard who ran away like a cockroach every single time. I see youve managed to survive the battle of Coromungas command post, Black Mamba said chillingly. Ahmuds gaze was pinned on Black Mamba. The one who had mentioned Coromunga was the Kanma. Fear overwhelmed his grudge. He couldnt see his face very well due to the head wrap, but aside from his built body, he couldnt find anything different from an average person. He sucked in his lower belly. He had nothing to fear since he was going to die anyway. Burimer immediately took out a photo from his chest pocket. With deep eyes and a high nose bridge, thick horizontal brows and high protruding cheekbones, even though there was sand sticking to his face from the sweat, it was enough to confirm his status. His is Halami Ahmud. Hes perfect as the sacrifice for Chartres funeral. Ahmuds face creased heavily. He understood French. The blood lust carried across each word pressed his heart down. As expected of Kanma. A chill ran across his entire body, his skin prickling as though it was being poked by needles. I didnt lose to you guys. I lost to the Kanma. Ombuti translated Ahmuds words. Dude, we all know that. Tie him up. Well interrogate him after we finish our comrades funeral. At the captains words, Jang Shin immediately tied him up into a cocoon and shoved him in a corner. He might try to off himself. At Mikes suggestion, Jang Shin shoved an M60 bullet in his mouth and sealed it closed with rounds of tape. Ahmud glared at Mike with dissatisfaction in his eyes, earning strong kicks. This time, no one stopped Mike. Burimer, lets say our farewells to our comrades who have headed home ahead of us. Yes, lets. The priest is unique, and the prayer even more so, but it would be hard to find a priest better than him in the Sahel. Of course. And the Angel of Death, Black Mamba, is perfect to host the wake. Three more graves were added to the rough and desolate desert for Chartres, Miguel, and Mouris. Six mercenary survivors and one old Tuareg warrior surrounded the graves. The fake priest, Black Mamba, began to sing a prayer in front of the graves. For a human who had killed thousands to sing a prayer for the dead, it was a lame joke, but what else could they do? There was no one closer to a priest than Black Mamba. .Namussangjusibangbul namussangjusibangbub namussangjusibangseung The song, which dragged on as if to no end, finally ended. Black Mamba said the farewells for the team as the representative. Chartres, Miguel, Mouris, rest in peace. I will not forget those who have pushed you into your unfortunate deaths. I will swear on my name as Black Mamba to ensure your families are fine. May there be protection on your corpses, and may there be peace on your souls. Next, the captain stepped up. My close comrades, Chartres, Miguel, and Mouris, I promise you the same thing Black Mamba did. I will ensure that the rest of the team returns alive. I will shatter the chins of those who sold you. Salute! Jang Shin and Emil raised their guns. Fire! Bang Bang Salute, Fire! Bang Bang Crash A large rock fell in front of the graves and caused the ground to shake. Black Mamba lowered the rock then shook his hands off. What-what are you doing? Mike shouted as he leaped up from his seat. It was a long rock that weighed around a ton. Its a tombstone. Fourteen lost eyes looked between Black Mamba and the rock. A tombstone? Dont you know what a tombstone is? Zeolite, ze-o-lite! Mikes question was regarding the stone itself, as Black Mamba had only revealed its purpose. Jang Shin and Emil choked on their laughter. Mike was far from forgiven by Black Mamba. A high-rank master in a martial arts novel would have sliced the rock in two with his palm, but that was an impossible story in reality. Instead, Black Mamba pulled out his Kukri and activated his inner wavelength. The knifes blade began to tremble ominously. He abandoned all of his complicated thoughts. He filled up his empty headspace with nothing but the desire to cut the rock. Slice! Slice! Schink The Kukri slid across the rocks surface in an indisputable second. Wow! The mercenaries, who were watching with bated breath, exclaimed. The rock had been sliced open as though a reaper had sawed through a wheat stalk. It was a magical scene that couldnt be seen anywhere else. With a few more strokes of the knife, an even surface was made. Ugh, this isnt something to play around with. Black Mamba sat on the floor after his muscles lost their strength. His strength had left him after a few strokes of the knife. His muscles, unable to stand a pressure higher than their average output, flopped out powerlessly. Even a horses muscles would have had a hard time withstanding the wavelengths. His determination to write a lengthy memorial epitaph disappeared like expelled gas. He barely managed to write the following with the remaining wavelengths in his blade: H. Chartres. Mouris. Miguel rests here. -B.F. Mussang- He had shortened the number of letters as much as possible, to the point that he shortened the H for Hakam and Huang, with an H. He was out of strength. It was a rock he had placed for a bit of fun. He would have never anticipated the catastrophe the rock would bring about in the future. Captain, the b*stard is Colonel Ahmud. The situation isnt good, Burimer reported to the Captain after interrogating Ahmud. Theres no situation to worsen. All we have to find out is where theyre stationed and what Habib is thinking. The FROLINAT is currently having an inner conflict between the doves and hawks. The hawk faction that had been in power is apparently breaking apart. Goukouni had gone into hiding, and Habib has suffered great losses from us, causing a decrease in lead. Then isnt that good news? The pride of the upper FROLINAT echelon has suffered, so council member Tombye ordered a full-force mobilization. They have blocked the southern route with three thousand additional reinforcements who are stationed down in Tibesti. Tombye and Romus combined forces of a thousand are after us. The mercenaries who had been listening in felt their expressions become devastated. The fact that three thousand had been added to the Kanem and Borkou provinces meant that the FROLINAT had mobilized their entire force. Damn, did we act up too much? The captains gaze swung towards Black Mamba. We killed the b*stards who come. So well also kill the b*stards who block our path. Ha, good to know its that simple. A smile rose on the captains face. It was something only the undefeatable Black Mamba would say. Ombuti, figure out Habibs location from him, Black Mamba said suddenly. He was determined to see to Habib himself. He was someone who was harmful in existence, even before being the culprit of his comrades deaths. Joy bloomed on Ombutis face. This was it. This was the reason why he had dragged Ahmud, to find the location of Habib. His Wakil hadnt forgotten what he had said in passing. Ive already checked. He lives in a mansion in Paya. Ive also figured out the location of his mansion. Good! And how did they gain our information? Ahmud received his information from Habib. He doesnt know anything else aside from the reports he received from his sentry units. Hes no use then. Mike pulled out his firearm. Captain, should I kill him? No, treat me like a prisoner! Ahmud screamed, noticing the intent. Ombuti, what is he saying? asked the captain. Hes asking to be treated like a prisoner. Hahahaha! The mercenaries laughed. For the very person who had killed four of their own to request to be treated like a prisoner, it was a funny joke. There wasnt a clause regarding the treatment of prisoners, even in the Geneva Agreement. Wait, hes the one who annoyed us and ate up four of our own, isnt he? Then Ill use him as a sacrifice. When Black Mamba stood up, Mike placed his gun back inside its holder without a word. When Black Mamba approached, Ahmuds face turned blue. It was the Kanma who was rumored to rip skin apart with his bare hands and drink brain fluid. Even if he died, he didnt want to die like that. Wakil, why would an honorable one like you dirty your hands with a cockroach? Please, let your servant catch such things. Ombuti looked at Black Mamba with pleading eyes. Ahmud wasnt Ombutis direct target of revenge, but his army had destroyed tens of villages and killed their people. He was the enemy of his tribe. Chapter 85 - Death is a Mercenarys Friend Musta, who had raped his daughter, had died at his Wakils hands. He wanted to take revenge on this Ahmud b*stard himself. Since you brought him over, Ombuti, I recognize your right. Black Mamba knew Ombutis grudge very well. It had to run deep, considering how his wife and daughter had been raped and murdered by those b*stards. He left Ahmuds fat in Ombutis hands. Mike wrestled with the idea. Captain, he cant. Mouris, Chartres, and Miguel died. If Black Mamba doesnt do it, we should. Mike, the FROLINAT and us met as enemies. When you kill the enemy, you need to be prepared to die, too. The amount of FROLINAT soldiers youve killed must be over at least thirty. Would you be able to bear the grudges of all thirty of those people? The circumstances are different. Theres nothing different. In the end, the Sahel is the FROLINATs land. Were the invaders. A soldiers role is to fight and kill. If we press him for charges, we need to charge him with murder for unarmed locals. Did Chartres ghost attach itself to the captain? He talked like Chartres. Mike stepped back with a dissatisfied face. He had realized the importance of his comrades thanks to Black Mamba. He wanted to take revenge for them but was blocked. Ombuti threw his weight around Ahmud with a steadfast stance as though he was a judge making a decision. Ahmud, I am an Immoharen of the Tuareg Tribe. I will make you pay for the many crimes you have committed against my tribe. Will you follow the laws of the desert or receive the judgment of Allah? Ahmuds face crumpled. Have you forgotten Allahs teachings?! If you destroy a corpse, your name will be erased from Azraels list one day! Ahmud shouted. Hmph, a cockroach like you doesnt have to worry about such things. My owner is Azrael. Since theres no time, Ill judge you by Allahs words. Ombuti dragged Ahmud by the back of his neck and dragged him before Chartres grave. Let me go! You b*stard, Im a commander. Arent you one of the honorable Tuareg Tribes warriors? You shouldnt be humiliating me, even in death. Just shoot me in the head. If you destroy my corpse, Allah will not forgive you. Ha, humiliation for a cockroach? Several people youve killed will welcome you on the other side. If anyone asks who sent you, tell them Izmael Ombuti did. Ahmud instinctively knew that he was about to be burned and protested. Ombuti didnt even blink. Ha, when did he prepare that? Mike laughed. There was a pile of broken branches in front of the grave. Ombuti was definitely a busybody. Jang Shin, hand him an oil tank. At Black Mambas words, Jang Shin ran to the pickup without protest. Ombuti, who picked up the extra fuel supply, poured it over the wood. You cannot do this! Allah, send these heretics and this ungrateful b*stard to hell! Ahmud screamed while rolling on the ground. That b*stard, hes squealing like a pig. Jang Shin sealed his mouth with tape once more. He helped Ombuti set up Ahmud on top of the wood stack. Wow, I knew he was crazy about cooking, but to think hed start cooking cockroaches! Cockroaches lay eggs if theyre not killed with fire, Emil responded to Mikes meaningless exclamation. Ombuti threw the matchstick on the pile. Whoosh The dry wood drenched in oil started burning furiously. Soon, the smell of meat burning engulfed the area. The sight of a human burning couldnt be seen in current society, but the mercenaries who were watching didnt even blink. This was the land of savages, the Sahel of Africa. How scary. Seems like Allahs judgment is to burn a person alive. Whats the rule of the desert? Emil asked Ombuti without a bit of tension in his body. You erect a cross in the desert and tie him up. Then, you wait three days. Hell shrivel under the sun. The hyenas will rip him apart before that happens. Woah! Emil, as emotional as ever, drew in a strong breath of air. And so Ahmud, who was called the red star of Sahel, who boasted the life of a cockroach, died as a handful of ashes in Djourab Erg. As expected, a pheasants enemy was a hawk, and a cockroachs enemy was a servant. Jang Shin, who was holding the wrench, glared at the pickup. It was a glare meant for an archenemy. The pickup, which had three holes in it, received his glare. Damn it, I dont have any spare parts. This has nothing to do with my lack of skills! Jang Shin threw down the wrench in frustration. The pickup he had hidden between the rocks had been bombarded with warheads. The traces of a hard fight were strongly imprinted. Fortunately, the other two had holes in their loading boxes, but this one had a problem with its engine. He had tried to fix it up, but every time he started the engine, it only hatefully spluttered. Two pickups werent enough for a company of eight to travel. There wouldnt be enough space to load their weapons and supplies. Sergeant Burimer, why dont we turn back to Tanga and fill up the pickup and supplies at Trident Rock? Burimer looked at Jang Shin as though he was pathetic. Are you an idiot? We were pushed up north because we couldnt break through there. Theyre blocking the south to the best of their abilities. Try fixing it up well. Well? Yes. Well! Jang Shin, who had gone from a genius to an idiot in a second, crumpled his face into a wail. Damn it, all you have to do is move your mouth, but I have to move my hands and feet! It was the unforgivable rule of an organizations society. With one word from the head, the people below began to suffer. While Jang Shin wrestled with the pickup using his spare parts and tools, the team members went around gathering spare equipment and bullets. They had ended up in a f*cked up situation where they had to run and battle while also lacking supplies. While their weapons were weak, there were many of them. They gathered 15 working RPG7s. Burimer, fearing the lack of bullets, gathered a bunch of Degtyaryovs and 0.3-inch bullets. Vroom The pickup with bullet holes all over its hood spewed out a refreshing engine noise. Yes! Im a genius! Jang Shin shouted in glee. Machine genius Jang Shin had finally managed to breathe life into the pickup once more. As expected, Japanese stuff is definitely the best for cars. Its surprising that such a country exists in Asia. This was a conversation between the captain and Burimer. Black Mamba was slightly pissed off. If it had been a different car, it wouldnt have stood a chance. Even if it wasnt shot down by bullets, it wouldnt have withstood the environment or long distances and wouldve broken down long before. His hometown was filled with pain and grudges, but he was helplessly a pampered man. It became complicated to partner them up without Chartres, Mouris, and Miguel around. There were only two snipers, the captain, and Mike. The only ones who remained in the cover fire department were Burimer, Emil, and Jang Shin. It was hard to fit their personalities and specialties together. Mike can partner up with Jang Shin. Burimer can move with me. Black Mamba and Emil were originally partners, and Bell Man and Ombuti were non-fighters. Honestly, only Mike could be Jang Shins partner. Jang Shins face darkened. When one was partnered with Mike, they were bound to die. Mark had died first. Mouris had also died. He was the third. He could imagine himself with a gunshot in his head and his insides spilling out. He looked at Black Mamba. He was the only wild card on the team who could flip the captains decision around. Son of a b*tch! Sergeant Mike was explaining something desperately in front of Black Mamba, probably something to do with himself. The man who looked like a grizzly bear was acting like a fox. Big brothers there, so I shouldnt die! Jang Shins shoulders dropped in defeat. But unlike what Jang Shin thought, Mike was dying. I swear, I didnt take my eyes off of Mike for a second. I only glanced at Mouris while I was sniping after all. Really, my attention was so dispersed I nearly couldnt battle for a moment. I didnt even kill ten people. But apparently something happened to the mine lines, and Mouris crawled out of his rock for about ten feet. When I heard a beeping noise, I shouted. Mike stopped talking and glanced at Black Mamba. His expression hadnt changed. Feeling a chill run through his chest, he continued to talk desperately. I shouted for Mouris to get down, but the warhead landed the moment Mouris threw his body back into the rocks. You know that the 3.3 inch cant compare to a 2.4 inch. Mouris seemed to jump the moment the explosion sounded. How could I know Mouris would be done in by a warhead? Keep talking, Black Mamba said without even turning to look. His voice was as cold as frozen dew in late fall. When Mouris was done in, I went mad. I ran forward without looking at anything, even risking being sniped. But by the time I ran forward, it had already ended. My mistake was not thinking about the landmines. I went mad for a moment after all. After that, it was as you saw. Its true. Mouris was just unlucky. Mike explained desperately so that Black Mamba would understand. He didnt know why he had to make him understand, but he tried his best. It was so he wouldnt be beaten to death. When Mark died, he had said hed bury him with his new partner if the new partner died, too. Black Mamba never lied. Mike, why did Bell Man bring Mouris corpse? Werent you, his partner, supposed to take care of him? Mikes face turned black. I was wary of the remaining FROLINATs sniping. Bell Man is a non-fighter after all. I had to protect him. Mike was proud of his explanation. While it was true, Black Mamba was someone who was especially sensitive of his comrades safety. Sergeant Mike, well done. Protect your new partner well. Black Mamba patted Mikes back and disappeared. What? Mike looked at Black Mambas back which was growing further away with confusion across his face. Considering the fact that he was prepared to receive a beating, he was rendered speechless. Did the viper forget his fangs somewhere? Mike tilted his head. He didnt feel the need to correct Black Mambas sudden kind mind. Ombuti took up the Alpha wheel, which the Captain and Black Mamba boarded. At the Beta was Bell Man, Burimer, and Emil, while on the Gamma was Mike and Jang Shin. The three pickups ran out of the battlefield rapidly. Ombuti began talking to the Captain with an apologetic expression by the wheel. Captain, Im sorry I couldnt fight with you. The Captain waved his hands. What are you saying. You brought Ahmud over. Its the commander Black Mamba lost three times. Ombuti, youve managed to acheive something great. Ive already recorded it in the achievement request form. Ahha! Ombutis mouth split open. That was a coincidence. Its like me picking up something my Wakil had left over. Im embarrassed of my past as a warrior. No. Ombuti is a guide. Sorry, but Ombuti wouldnt be a help to the battle at all. Black Mamba, who is new to the battlefield, is the worst at guiding. Well all have to do something were good at. Ombutis role is to guide, not battle. Im grateful you werent injured. Im grateful for you putting it that way. Im an Immoharen after all. I felt pathetic when I was hiding. Ombuti turned his head and looked at the Captain. His face was covered by the litam, so his expression wasnt obvious, but his eyes were smiling. All of the members including myself are grateful to you Ombuti. Ombutis actions are right on the battlefield. You should look after your own life. You must understand, now that youve been through it, but the safest place is next to Black Mamba. Although your dreams might be slightly violent. Ombuti nodded. Even after a hundred reconsideration, the safest place was beside his Wakil. Thank you, Captain. I think theres a traitor who sold our information to the rebels. Ill head to Paya Largo and meet my friends. Ill get rid of the betrayer and return. It was Ombutis late advice. No one in their team had told Ombuti about the spy at the headquarters. It was because it was a problem of pride of Legion Etranger. The captain shook his head. No. There are rats anywhere and everywhere. Theres no need to push yourself. This is not the time to be hung on small revenges. Lets head together to Paya. I need to reach the headquarters at Paya after all. I have to, even though we might be tailed once more. I understand. I will also reach out to my Ummah friends at Paya Largo to gain some information. Ummah were those whod gathered under religious reasons to achieve a political and religious unity under Allahs true teachings. Chapter 86 - Death is a Mercenarys Friend (Part 1) The Ummah, who tried to be as loyal to the Koran as possible, had a strongly critical nature. Obviously, the ones in power recognized the Ummah as a secret organization and tried to arrest them. Both Chads government and FROLINAT ignored the Ummah, since both the government powers and rebels the same vested interests. The Ummah were unable to gain much power between the two. The victor in the civil war became the government powers, and the loser became the rebels. Government powers and rebels were but organizational structures. There wasnt a past or future tense. If the rebels gained an advantage, they would become the government. The previous government would move guerrilla-style as the new rebels. This was the most common situation in most of the new countries in Africa. Black Mamba understood the two peoples conversations vaguely. It was the same anywhere in places humans inhabited. Human matters were about those who wanted to protect their power and those who had problems with those in power. When the public tilted towards the left it became a revolution, and to the right, it became a civil dispute. Four out of eleven of their team members had died. The rations, which had been enough for three days, extended to five. Those who were dead were buried, and those who were alive had to eat. After that day, there was no telling whether the rations would increase to seven or ten days. The rations dangled precariously, but no one cared. Paya was Chads largest northern city. In order to go to Paya from Erra Ekadini, where they had battled in the rocky regions, they had to move northeast through 168 miles of Djourabs desert. Djourab was an independent patch of desert that wasnt connected to the Sahara. There was a long path from Massif Ennedis plains to the entrance of the Bodl Depression, Koro Taro, which was in the northeast. Its length was up to 250 miles, but its width was only 15 to 20 miles. With Black Mambas senses and Ombutis experience working together, they were able to get out of the desert patch in record time. Habib ended up hitting empty land once more. Habib had blocked the southwestern route between Nedeli to Kema, but because the smarter captain had headed northeast, three thousand soldiers ended up wading through empty waters. Black Mamba felt wary about their move the entire time. They were basically crawling into the alligators mouth, risking danger. Was there a need to go to the enemys headquarters just to receive orders from their own when the trust was broken? Since they had decided to return, all they needed was to break through the enemy lines. If they didnt have enough firepower, they could steal it from the enemy. Frustration welled up at the captains introverted leadership. While they were cooling their engines and taking a break, Black Mamba looked for the captain. Captain, I have a question. The captain turned his head as if giving the go-ahead. Why arent we heading down south? Theres no need to communicate. Ill break through. The captain looked at Black Mamba as though he was stupid. Black Mambas gaze dug through the captains as though it was poking through him. Flinching, the captain moved back unknowingly. He looked at Black Mamba once more. He had clear eyes, to the point where blue lights swirled in them. What was that? He felt a fear that ran down his spine in that brief moment. Those were the eyes of a predator more fierce than an angered lion. Did my body change for the worse? Of course, the team and his conditions were poor. He decided he must have imagined it. What would happen if he fought in this condition? He had no confidence. Everyones condition was shot, but what was this rock-like b*stard? He was invigorated to the point it became suspicious as to whether he was human. Im a soldier. I was ordered to retreat from Kanem Provinces Salal with our own forces. The current situation makes that impossible. We need to receive orders in consideration of the changed circumstances. The mole in our headquarters is an entirely different matter. F*cking hell! Black Mamba grabbed the back of his neck. He felt frustrated, as though he was talking to a wall. They were already chicken thrown into an alligators pit, but what was this martyr mindset?! If they had been thrown into the mission knowing that they were going to be bait in the first place, he wouldnt have been this indignant. He would have acted accordingly. That was what soldiers did. They were sent into places where death was confirmed, and they set foot in those places knowing they could die. But this situation, where they had been stabbed in the back, was different. Then what was all that effort to return until now? I forgot my role and mission for a moment. The raccoon mission is still continuing, even now. I cant ruin the mission. Hm, then are you saying that youll keep acting as bait and run around with the FROLINAT on our tails? Thats not it But Ill move through a different route after receiving orders. Black Mamba fell speechless. He suddenly remembered the Australian ant species, oecophylla smaragdina, that Chartres had told him of. While the old ants stood as the vanguards for the organizations safety, their problem was that the young Ratel team were the ones who were back-stabbed by the old ants. We were betrayed. Arent you mad? Im angry, too, but it wasnt my commander who fooled us. I trust our commander; hes a logical person. We can receive our orders to retreat after reporting the circumstances. This incident came about from outside interference. You have to admit we cant break through the Salal region realistically. If we try to break through by land, youd be the only one left standing. Oh, f*ck, whys this b*stard such a stickler for rules? Black Mamba suppressed the desire to punch him. What would you do if I decided to return alone? Ill be honest. You have a call name that allows you to act independently depending on your decisions. Its possible that the people who created this back door plan had your independent return in mind. No, they probably knew that. I cant speak for the DGSE, but theres no way the Department of Defence threw a strategically valuable person like you away. Hm, they think Ill escape if the situation turns for the worst? Theres no life above ones own. Of course, I know youre not the type of person whod throw his comrades behind and run for your own sake. What a sly b*stard! Black Mamba closed his mouth. He was a wall, a sly wall on top of that. These were words to bind him to his comrades with their lives on the line. He didnt want to talk to him any longer. All of the trust he had built between them had crumbled. Are all white people as two-faced as you? Black Mamba innately hated being suppressed. Legion Etranger had also been his first time working with an organization. Any organization, especially the military, worked by deferring to the ones in power. He found it hard to understand Sergeant Pauls involvement with the military organization as someone who wished to be a free soul. In reality, Sergeant Pauls actions as the captain were something that could cause a recall. The military was the representative organization that acted on orders. If rules were bent in reverse, they became an uncontrollable organization with weapons. Acting on orders was the true job of a soldier. When Black Mamba began to show signs of discomfort, the captain began to reassure him. Lets get some air reinforcements at Paya and return comfortably. We can take a refreshing foam shower at Paya, too. He wasnt an unmoving wall. He was closer to a fox. The last order the Ratel team had received was to escape by land. They had to receive a new order in order to change plans, even though their escape through Salal was impossible. Black Mamba had vaguely sensed the intent of the higher-ups. Those old men didnt want the mercenary team to return. They had basically shoved the flying chickens that were coming out of the alligators den back in with a stick. His unbending captain was being willingly pushed into the alligators den. Unfortunately, battles werent a sport. Habib wasnt the type of person to accept a thrown white towel. They had no choice but to fight. Black Mamba, as a veteran soldier, didnt understand Sergeant Pauls actions. The captain didnt understand either, having become weak-willed after his subordinates deaths. Black Mambas eyes grew fierce. This b*stard had left the helicopter to be shot down on purpose. Chartres had died because of that, yet he was still trying to shove the team into hell, not realizing his mistakes. He was someone who could only be beaten to his senses. Captain, I need to talk to you separately. Why? Just say it here, said the captain stupidly without reading the mood. It wouldnt look good in front of the entire team. Ugh, this b*stards really going to! the captain thought. Finally realizing the situation, the captains face scowled. Fine, Ill learn from you. Its a familys honor to receive a one-on-one session with Black Mamba. The captain attempted to stick to his pride if he couldnt avoid it. Even if he was turned into a paste, no one would laugh at him. His bravery to simply attempt to fight against Black Mamba would be recognized. Wow, this b*stards the true enemy. Black Mamba snorted. A leaders position was definitely not something just anyone could take up. His immediate response, changing a beating to a training session, was astounding. Whoo! Go for it, Captain! Show us the real deal of Krav Maga. Kick that arrogant Black Mamba away! The mercenaries cheered. Yeah, thats right! The captain applauded his own on-the-spot thinking. Krav Maga was a fatal martial art that stemmed from Israel, using barehanded and weapon techniques to kill. Its combined techniques and injuries for critical points were its main factors. The captain took out his M9 combat knife and held it in his right hand as he stood slightly diagonally, using his open left hand to guard against the enemy. It was the perfect defensive stance. One side of Black Mambas mouth tilted up. What was this? He was begging to be beaten up! He had planned to end this with a single blow, since they were in the middle of their mission, and he was the leader. He had no personal grudges against him, but Chartres death had been hanging around his neck the entire time. Ill go with bare hands. Ill be expecting your best, strongest attack, Captain. He hadnt been able to test the Ten Point Continuous Blows of the Five Combines Movements seriously. Any average person had their entire body shattered with a single blow. If they received the Ten Point Continuous Blows, which consisted of ten attacks in a single breath, they were bound to become a lump of meat, but the captain was a Krav Maga master. He could be able to withstand one round. Ssh Black Mambas weight went against gravity and flew into the air, like taking steps to ride a dragons back. The sight of him flying into the air without preparation resembled a helium balloon a young child lost to the air. Ah! The captain, who had been preparing his nerves at a point fifteen feet away, drew in a breath. A black shadow approached him from his peripheral view. This shadow was the reason behind the guerrillas rapidly falling like straw houses. The captain fell back and threw his sword to the side. The blue blade reflected the sunlight and glistened. Clang A palm pushed the blade away, and an elbow dug into his cheekbones. Ha. The captains consciousness left him with a single blow. The Ten Point Continuous Blows whirled like a twirling windmill. The raised knee blew out the center of his chest, and a high attack fell onto his crippled body. Black Mambas body followed the captains flying form, which was falling back like a scarecrow. He looked as though he was in a sexual position. Craaaack Creak The sound of slapped skin rang in the air continuously. The captains body shook in the air in close proximity. The bag of straw fell to the ground once the sounds ceased. He had received ten blows in the time from his sail into the air to his crash to the floor. Black Mamba frowned. The captain had already lost his consciousness by the time he was going in for his second attack. The rest of the impacts had been dealt gently for educational purposes. It seemed like a Krav Maga master was no different. The physical differences between him and any average person were too vast. The mercenaries ceased to breathe. Six pairs of eyes kept flitting between Black Mamba, who stood without a breath out of beat, and the poorly crumpled captain, who had fainted on the ground. Sergeant Paul, who was called the strongest master in Legion Etranger, had turned into a pile of meat without retaliating once. Everyone looked as though they knew this would happen. Is there anyone else who plans on kicking the arrogant Black Mamba away? Black Mamba looked around at his teammates with a smile. None! replied five voices as one. Mike flew out like lightning and laid the captain down in a shadow. It was affection from someone who had suffered the same thing. Bell Man injected heart and muscle relaxants and began CPR on the captains chest. Chapter 87 - Episode 6: Death is a Mercenarys Friend (Part 2) Ombuti gazed at Black Mamba with awe. Black Mamba shivered at the reverent gaze. Even he found the old Tuareg warriors admiration fearful, despite everything else in the world. Phew! Bell Mans tearful efforts finally shone. The captain, who had begun to breathe, began to sit up with splayed limbs. Hes still above average despite being rotten! Black Mamba murmured in surprise. He had thought the captain wouldnt wake for at least another hour. As expected, a body built through battles was of another tier. The captain shook his head. His hazy eyes regained their light. Having found his senses, the captain stared at Black Mamba. What happened? I landed the blows, and you received them. Damn, thats a crystal clear reply. I feel refreshed after that beating. Should I make you feel even more refreshed? No, thank you, you b*stard. Id rather go against an African water buffalo. The man who had hit and the man who was beaten looked at each other and smiled. Men were simple creatures who worked out their small disputes with fists. The two had shaken their remaining anger away with those blows. Twenty-six days into the Raccoon mission, the FROLINAT who had suffered a resounding defeat lost track of the Ratel team. The pickup crashed up north 25 miles without meeting any obstacles. Paya was the Tibesti Provinces greatest northern city. As the greatest oasis city in the world, it had an airport and hotel, reaching a population of twenty-five thousand. Several thousand in number was a surprising amount for an oasis city. Paya Largo was Payas old name. Currently, the two names were used together. Paya was used to refer to the city, while Paya Largo referred to the citys outskirts. Chads security was shot, but they couldnt just walk into the city with artillery and machine guns, so the mercenaries had to go through another round of sweat-filled shoveling. They stocked their weapons in the two pickups and wrapped them up with a tarp. They pushed the pickups in a hole and covered them up with sand. Such things were only possible because it was a desert. After finishing their work, Ombuti handed some loose pairs of pants to the mercenaries who were laying down. Paya is Chads largest city. We need to try not to attract attention. The width of the pants was extreme, while the length was short, with several creases all around. They were the type of pants a Persian prince would wear in movies. The mercenaries eyes moved towards Ombuti. Ombuti pointed at the yellow-brown uniforms that peeked out under their robes. There are too many eyes around. You cannot walk around Paya in that getup. These clothes are outer clothes called Sirwal that Arabs wear. Theyre clothes you wear without underwear. You dont wear underwear with Sirwal? Yes. Why would you? Itd be too uncomfortable. Ombuti replied to Emils question. But dont you wear underwear? Right. Usually, Bedu or Tuareg people dont wear underwear. I wont ask you all to take them off, so just change. Black Mamba tried to stop Jang Shin from wearing the Sirwal on top of his combat attire. Jang Shin, if you dont want to be covered in sweat, take your combat attire off and then put it on. It looks weird, but it seems like itd be breezy. Jang Shin struggled with the large sack-like clothes. The Sirwal, which was over six feet in length from the waist, was three to four times larger than traditional Korean clothes. Ill help you put it on. Ombuti called Jang Shin over. Usually, the youngest was called to demonstrate under the officers order. Ombuti made him put on the Sirwal and pulled the waistband closed. He then rolled the remaining cloth over and shoved it into the waist. The lower half of the pants were tied between the calf and ankle at the appropriate tightness. The mercenaries took off their combat pants without protest and changed into the Sirwals. Even Black Mamba took off his pants that were stiff from sweat and changed into the Arab pants. Its good! The loose Sirwal pants had good ventilation and allowed a wide movement range. Their clothes were as amazing as their food. They were clothes that suited the Sahel. He wanted to take off his underwear too, but the cultural difference caused him to remain put. Hm, we look like locals who ran away from home. They were wearing the Sirwal, the gandourah robes, and had wrapped most of their faces in litam. The mercenaries outward appearances looked similar to those of the northern Sahara locals. They only took their handguns and cold knives as weapons. Eight large people folded themselves into one pickup. It would have been an impossible number had there been more weapons involved. Paya was located in the underbelly of the Sahara Desert and Tibestis mountain range, one of the places with the least amount of precipitation on Earth. Ironically, Payas main production was farming, despite their low precipitation. The secret that made that possible was the underground river. Marshes appeared in Paya without rain. It was water that had been dragged up from the underground river. The Bodele depression and the Tibesti mountain ranges provided water that flowed underground, hence the river. The water that had traveled through the underground river created a large reservoir underneath Paya. Paya was, in other words, a city floating on water. The locals farmed wheat, date palms, and figs using the water pumped from the underground reservoir. Natures wonders were too deep and wide for a humans small brain to comprehend. The Ratel team, which had entered Paya Largo, headed towards the Le Marien hotel. The hotel was the sole building that was standing tall. A small lowered light blinked in and out in front of the five-story hotel, which was painted gray. The atmosphere was more like a crematorium than a hotel. Hey, go to sleep at your house. Mike thumped the front desk. The man who had been sleeping on the desk woke up wearing a fuzzy look. Four rooms. We dont need food. Forty francs for one night. You can check out in the middle, but theres no refunds, said the African man while half asleep, blaring his flat nostrils and speaking morosely. Yeah, yeah, hand me the keys. The man looked around at the group with fatigue hanging off his eyelids before opening the key box. You can have rooms 316 to 319. The receptionist threw them the keys without even checking their statuses. Hey, is there an elevator? Take the stairs. He waved at the stairs with an annoyed expression. It didnt seem as though his expression would change even if they waved their guns in his face. Hes the laziest worker Ive ever seen. A boa with a deer in its stomach would be more energetic than him. Burimer clicked his tongue. An abnormal day becomes a normal day if it continues, said the captain as he patted Burimers back. Well, would we be surprised if he pulled out a handgun? Battles are a daily occurrence for us, while lazing around is the norm for him, Mike said logically, which was very unlike him. Although this didnt apply to everyone in the world, there were some who turned into logical humans after a beating. The lobby was empty, and not metaphorically. It was literally empty. There was just one other person, an Arab with a turban on his head who was leaning against the wall looking at a tabloid called Le Monde. Black Mamba took a glimpse at the newspaper the Arab was reading. His eyes were sharper than a hawks and more accurate than a German milling machine. He could read the newspapers words from 100 feet away. It was Le Mondes November 4th edition. The Ratel team had been sent on the mission on November 3rd. It was a newspaper that was 30 days past its printed date. He could accept the abnormality, since Paya was located on the outskirts of the Sahara Desert. However, the Arabs eyes werent looking at the newspaper. Whether he was or wasnt looking at the newspaper, anyone who looked at anything but their own stuff always had another purpose. What a strange guy. His blood flow and brain waves had become stronger for a moment, and definitely after he saw the Ratel team. Brain waves were unleashed. The resonance that unraveled curled around the pillar and turned another corner. Theres no current threat. Aside from the Arab, who looked around thirty, there were no other humans or other threatening factors. Black Mamba wasnt a person who screamed at uncertainty. He climbed the stairs with his team. Once the group ascended the stairs, the Arab who was reading the news in the lobby slowly began to exit the hotel. The African receptionist also disappeared through the back door. A pair of eyes followed the Arab who was walking further away. It was Black Mamba on the balcony of his 3rd-floor room. Emil, theres a tail on us. Im going to get rid of it. Hm, a tail? Emil turned his head instinctively. The linen curtains flapped across the empty balcony. That f*cking b*stard, hes left me to face the captain again. His behind, which had been kicked at Gudari, began to ache once more. Paya was a city that the Frenchmen had constructed during its colonization. There were dense parks in corners of the city that were laid out like a chessboard. The buildings ranged from wealthy to poor. While there were two to three-floored buildings of red and white bricks, there were smaller houses built from scraps of metal and wood that resembled tents. Most of the buildings in the French style were built during the colonized age. They were sad old portraits that were sustained over decades without a single attempt at removal. The Arab walked through the dark paths without a single moment of hesitation as though they were familiar. He crossed the small park and disappeared down a small side road. Black Mamba followed with leisure. He couldnt see the back of the Arabs head, but he was calm, because he was following the man with his scent instead of his eyes. Hiding, intruding, and following were his specialties. He didnt have a problem even if the smell disappeared. As long as the man remained within a 1,000-foot radius, no living being could escape his dimensional sight. The Arabs traces led him to a single-floor red-bricked house. He brightened, as he had been beginning to feel bored. He leaped up the ten-foot wall without a foothold. His eyes grazed over the inside, and he threw his body up onto the roof. He could hear the conversation inside without the need to concentrate. Damn! There was a major problem. All he knew of the Arabian language were a handful of greetings. He knew even less of the language near Morocco. There was no reason to listen in when his brain couldnt process the data. There were five presences, and all of them had strong auras. He could even smell the faint traces of gunpowder. One thing was certain: he didnt know who they were, but they werent just average company workers or farmers who raised date palms. Its violent, but no matter. It gets annoying if theres a tail after all. If he had been a policeman, he would have had to state his purpose at the door to search the premises, but he wasnt the police. They were in a situation where they had to run out of Paya the moment they had a connection with the headquarters. He was also worried about his comrades back at the hotel. He had never attacked someone who hadnt attacked first, but there was no time to waste. He hooked his foot over the roofs water pipe and looked inside using the upside down hanging method. He could see two people conversing on the sofa. The Arab he had tailed was explaining something to an older person. Tueme?! (Who is it?!) The Arab who saw Black Mambas face hanging outside the window pulled out his gun surprisingly fast. His fast movements brought about his tragic end. Crash Bang, bang His left hand shattered the glass, and his right hands Glock smoked. The moment Black Mamba rolled into the living room, the two men with holes in their foreheads slumped forward. If he hadnt pulled out his gun, he wouldnt have died so meaninglessly. The conversation in the room ended. He was going to have to do it anyway. He lifted up the three-seat sofa and threw it at the door. Crack The thick sofa crashed the door apart. Pu pu pu Bang, bang, bang Bullets flew inside the room as if it was raining. They were all using guns with silencers on them. The sofa had been bait. His strong left shoulder crashed against the left wall. Crash Schink Black Mamba flew horizontally through the hole in the brick wall as though he was lying down. He had used the Golden Mile Moving Wave of Fearless Steps. A thick cloud of dust covered his view but didnt block Black Mambas movements. Bam! The people who were shooting bullets at random fell to the floor. Black Mamba, who was hanging on the ceiling holding onto a lamp, dropped to the floor. Whoosh He finally breathed out. He had taken a single breath to kill the three while throwing the sofa to break the door, crashing through the wall, and hanging onto the ceiling lamp. All three were in Arab clothing. Two were white, although one looked familiar down to his eyes. He turned the corpse over with his toe. Huh? A Korean? he exclaimed unknowingly. Chapter 88 - Death is a Mercenarys Friend Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans may have shared some of the same traits, but their exuding atmospheres were different. It was hard to pinpoint, but the difference could be told with a little observance. There was no way he could feel giddy at killing one of his own ethnicity. Even if the other man had been carrying a weapon, it wasnt something to die for. He had broken into the house, so he couldnt say anything about their retaliation either. He felt uncomfortable at the idea of killing someone innocent. Damn, what was there for you to gain here that was worth crawling all the way over? When he took off the mans gandourah while grumbling, a yellow uniform was revealed. A sparkling badge attached to the left pocket of the uniform garnered his attention. There was a photo of Kim Il Sung in the middle of the badge with a red background. It was a second lieutenants Kim Il Sung badge. He had only heard of it, but this was his first time seeing it. Ha, a Kim Il Sung badge? Hes one of those red ones. His uncomfortable mood promptly vanished. The rumours of North Korea sending their torture squad over to Africa had been true. He took off the badge and placed it in his belt. He rummaged over the corpse, but there wasnt much aside from a poisonous dart, a knife, and a few dollars. It was the same for the other corpses. Aside from a few dollars, francs, and weapons, they had nothing on them. They didnt even have condoms. It was a visible trait of stereotypical spies. Africas many sex-related diseases came from poverty, hygiene, and misperceptions, but there was a large European influence, too. Europeans shoveled syphilis, gonorrhea, and trichomonas into Africa until the early 20th century. Those Europeans who carried around condoms in fear of the diseases they had spread were similarly pitiful. Dont these b*stards have registration numbers at least? Theyre some mixed b*stards. The handguns in their possession were the same. There was a Pistolet Makarova, with a brown handle and a star embedded in the middle. Makarov wasnt some cheap deal like the Tokarev. The Makarov was Tokarevs sub-model. Copied from Germanys Walter PPK, the Makarov was good to carry and handle. Spies from the Soviet and near the Eastern hemisphere used Tokarevs. It would be enough to use in the place of registration numbers. With two Africans, two whites, and one Korean gathered as though it was a race exhibition, it was hard to tell their purpose. It was highly probable that they were Soviet spies considering the fact that they had used silenced Makarovs. Being an enemy states spy wasnt a death crime, but it allowed him to shake off the guilt of killing his supposed own kind. Black Mamba took the objects and Makarovs in the briefcase he found in the living room. He also gathered all the unknown documents on the table. He could simply give them to someone who could read them. He had eliminated five healthy men by appearing in the middle of the night like a ghost. Both sides had used silencers, but he had broken down the door and crashed through the wall. The neighboring houses lights came on at the sounds. A black shadow flew over the houses fence like a ghost. The captain had forgotten Libyas presence behind the FROLINAT. Chads northern government was controlled by Libyas large influence. There wasnt a place where Libyas hands didnt reach. The five people that Black Mamba had killed were Libyas informants. They were the headquarters of an attack operation against team Ratel who were staying in the hotel. No one knew that the head of the operation had been cut off, not even Black Mamba. Although he had gotten rid of the immediate threat by coincidence, he couldnt imagine the threat that was approaching. The captain wasnt an idiot. He had predicted a breach from FROLINAT within the hotel as a possibility but had still risked the threat. The only place with a phone connection from Chads northern Sahel to NDjamena was the Le Marien hotel. Chads social infrastructure was poor to the point of being devastating. It didnt have a railway network, not to mention its lack of road networks. Even this insufficient road network was lost during rainy seasons. Electricity was provided only to the nearest NDjamena regions and spots within large cities. There was no way its communications lines would be stable. The long-distance lines between cities were from the stone ages. They had, in fact, decreased in quality since the French colonization, due to its civil war. If anything improved, it was the amount of money in the high officials back pockets. The captain glared at the back of the fat communicators head over the barrier. Hed had to open communications and call for air reinforcements in order to save his subordinates. The communicator sweated under such a savage glare. He chased his sleep away by pinching at his thighs. His body sunk like soaked cotton, and his chin lowered automatically. Communication was more important than rest, but there was no promise he would reach them. His heart raced to the point that his hand wished to jump out of his throat, but there was nothing to do but wait. The lines managed to connect after an hour. C Alpha, this is Bravo. C Bravo, this is Alpha. C Alpha, this is Arrrghhh, f*cking hell! The captain roared out. The weak lines ignored his heart. The connection had ended the moment they barely introduced themselves. The captain cursed the weak social infrastructure in Chad. He moved mountains to maintain his composure and not shatter the cheap phone in his hand. He had to wait for another connection in despair. Chads connection lines were as dry as the deserts water strains. There was no promise in waiting. To locate their location through the transmission in NDjamena was impossible. That was something possible only in countries with organized communication lines. Chad, with its ruined lines, made it impossible to find the origin of the connection from the receiving end. France had been more concentrated in harvesting the natural resources in Chad than the development of it as a colony. It was the same for all the other European countries. And so, a century passed with no improvement. Since an already deprived thing had been robbed, all it had left was bones. Chads current situation was actually no different from Koreas past immediately after liberation. The captain couldnt have imagined the cause of Chads poor connections was Frances responsibility. Black Mamba climbed up the wall and slipped into the room without a sound upon returning to the hotel. The verandas window rattled at Emils snoring. This was the backlash of traveling across Sahel without sleeping for a month. He took off all of his clothes and entered the bath. When he turned on the tap, clean water poured out. Paya had plenty of water despite being a desert city due to its underground water supplies. Its magic! He was moved to tears. The provided soap was brittle, but it washed away the thickened sweat and dust and blood quite well. Any normal person had to wash. The fact that one could wash to their own desire was a source of great happiness. Washing was what made a human a human. A human was a Homo Lavares (Latin for washing), someone who washed. Anyone who wandered the Sahel for a month would have agreed. He hadnt even guessed how valuable the clear water that flowed down Mount Chung Saengs river like purified water was back then. Humans were definitely imperfect existences who only learned from experience and understood through emotions. Emil had fallen into a deep sleep spread across the bed, still in his Sirwal. Black Mamba knew he was tired but was angered that his partner had forgotten the basics. You idiot, Emil! At the quiet call, Emil opened his eyes. He felt underneath his pillow. His senses, which had been trained on many battlefields, were on edge. Put on your clothes and keep your pistol near. Oops, when did I fall asleep? Emil slapped his own face. He had made a big mistake, because he had let his guard down during a long rest. He took the Glock his partner was handing him with a guilty face. Aside from the captain who was gritting his teeth in the hotels communication room, all of the other team members were in a similar situation to Emils. Black Mamba hadnt thought of that. Dont snore. I will shove a bullet up your nose. Black Mamba plastered his back to the bed after muttering such a scary warning. I need to rest when I can. Sleep overwhelmed him the moment he laid back, despite its hard and dirty condition. No one had rested well since the moment they were sent on the mission a month before. His body was full of energy, but his brain was unable to stand the fatigue. Fatigue overwhelmed him like a tidal wave. Mu Ssang slept as though he was dead. It was a two-story wooden building with blue roof tiles. The mansions planks were fitted head to head around the center pond, creating a flat front garden in the Japanese hiraniwa style. A sudden rush of wind blew the fallen leaves into a pile. They were blown up high into the second-floor window. The man standing by the window closed it. A brown leaf slid down the closed window slowly. The man gazed at the leaf sliding gown the window with emotionless eyes. The leaves that were blown up by the wind fluttered around the air, lost, until they lost their force and fell back onto the ground. The leaves landed on the pond or on the ground, swaying and scattering chaotically. The mans gaze didnt stay on the leaves for long. They followed a part of his life he had lost. The colorful leaves that pleased his eyes were just a moment in time. The leaves that swayed everywhere, following the early winter breeze, were but dried, dirty nuisances. The leaves that left the tree were no longer called leaves, but trash. He was the very leaf that fluttered around without a purpose. He was the leaf that was lost from its tree, like a phrase from a very old story, like duckweed without its roots. He suddenly found his fate pitiful. Flowers are blooming, and leaves are in season. An exclamation that a 70-year-old man would have said came out of Mu Ssangs mouth. Feeling his heart seizing, Mu Ssang closed his eyes and shook his head. Red lips pressed against his as though they had been waiting. Warmth, as though a brand had been marked on him, washed down his nerves. Love you! A heavenly sound like an angels voice tickled against his ear. It was a meaningful phrase that many women said with their souls injected in the words, or soullessly. Of course, that referred to someone else, not him. Long, white fingers unbuttoned his shirt and slid over his chest. Oh, if only it was just a little softer. Her soft hands, which seemed to lack any bones, slid across his iron-hard chest. Oh, your nipples are already on fire. Let me check there, too. The hand that escaped his chest slid down his pant zipper and burrowed in. The lips that were on his forehead licked down his face and opened to teeth, digging in as though returning home. Huh! the man cried in a strange voice. His young body burned as hot as the firecrackers in his urban community school neighborhood. Whether he was in his mothers arms, or his Aunts house, or the largest room on Chun Sung temple, or the overnight house in Bijin county, he couldnt tell. It was fine, wherever he was. He didnt care as long as Hae Young was in his arms. Hae Young was still a novice. Of course, he rushed into it, too. They kissed and loved each other hesitantly. Their teeth clacked against each others and left red marks all over the place. Hae Young dragged his hand into her underwear. He could feel course hair on his fingertips. Her care was precise. It was always neat as though it had been brushed. He once asked whether she brushed down there when she brushed her hair and was punished with no sex for a week. That had been the day before. He held back a laugh. Hae Young, as expected, couldnt stand a day. She attached herself to him like a washing board. She swallowed his center like an anaconda. He fell into the peak of pleasure as though he was falling from a great height. Clack A small sound from reality sent a signal through his brain, connecting him back to the real world. Several possibilities swept through his mind in a single moment like a panorama. Legion Etranger, Chads special forces, a sniper, guerrillas with exploding heads. Huh! Guerrillas? His awakened senses created and sent several signals. His consciousness sparked awake, as though someone had poured cold water over him. He recognized the sound of clacking as the door lock being opened. If he had been in a normal state, he would have felt the intruder climbing up the stairs, but Hae Young always lowered his guard. He was more angered over his interrupted dream than the intruders presence. How many years had he suffered from the tent in his pants! That f*cking b*stard, Ill dice him into pieces. Chapter 89 - Episode 8: Death is a Mercenarys Friend Black Mamba took out two metal darts from his hidden pouch. He wanted to slice him into pieces with his kukri knife, but there were two other people stationed in the corridor. Bait was best used fresh. The pouch he always had around his left hand was approximated to be an antique of the Chung Dynasty. It was a bronze pouch covered in a dinosaurs hide that he had bought in Paris Clignancourt antique shop. He bought his beloved purchase at 1,000 francs. The hide that lined the inside was soft, while the outer bronze material was hard to the point that even his kukri couldnt scratch it. Moreover, he could store over 20 five-inch darts in the hidden pouch. He had asked a traditional steel master in Ajaccio to make 200 to his standards. The door opened without a sound, a gun barrel shoved between the gap. They were highly trained movements, secretive to a fault. Of course, that was like childs play to Black Mamba. Black Mamba, who stood next to the door, grabbed the wrist that held the gun with his left hand and pulled abruptly. A needle buried itself inside the mystery mans artery without giving him a chance to react as he was dragged into the room. Uh! A large gust of wind escaped the intruders lungs. A shoulder lodged itself into the intruders collapsing chest, and the intruder flew out of the door. Black Mamba followed the corpse like a magnet. Pa pa pa pa Bullets dug into the intruders body, which bounced into the corridor. The intruders reactions were similarly fast. They threw their bodies to the floor and attempted to shoot again. Black Mamba kicked against the opposite wall and used his momentum to fly onto the ceiling. Schink Two darts flew out like raindrops falling from the sky. Ugh. Oomph. The two masked men, who were holding thick, silenced guns, crumpled like empty sacks. The darts were buried deep inside their foreheads to the point that only their ends stuck out. You damned b*stards, I didnt even get off. Whyre you intruding now? The more he thought, the angrier he became. I need to take what I can. He picked up the handguns that had been dropped on the floor. They were berettas with silencers. Berettas were expensive handguns, much too expensive for those beggar-like FROLINATs to use. Even the highest-ranking FROLINAT commanders used cheap Tokarevs. Small countries like Libya and Barshaba used Mikarovs, not Berettas. Something seemed strange. Black Mamba, wha-what? Emil stuttered awake. It seemed as though he had been deeply asleep. Black Mamba suddenly grabbed the back of Emils neck and dragged him to the bathtub. When he shoved the showerhead into Emils face, Emil freaked out. Gurgle Stop, stop! Black Mamba, what is it?! Emil, listen well. There are assassins. Ive gotten rid of three. You shove these b*stards in the room and go tell the captain in the communications room. Im going to Bell Man and Jang Shin. Emil dragged the three corpses into the room and took off their masks. Two were Arabs, while the other was white. Do you know him? Emil asked. Ha, are you stupid? Emil acknowledged that his question was stupid. There was no way someone in Africa would know Black Mamba. This isnt some novice guerrilla. Its a hitman. Emil, head to the communications room. The captains in danger. Emil ran down the stairs, while Black Mamba ran down the corridor. Bell Man and Mike were in room 316. In 318 were Jang Shin and Burimer. Ombuti was out meeting with his Ummah friends. There wasnt a single spider out in the corridor. The Chad Civil War had even driven away the footsteps of explorers and tourists. Foreigners who visited the Tibesti and Ennedi Plateaus of Sahara ceased visiting. The Le Marien Hotel had closed. Black Mamba grabbed the door of room 316, but released it and ran up the emergency stairs. Understanding the situation was the first priority. The hotel was a five-story building. The iron door that connected the emergency stairs to the rooftop was, as per normal, locked. He grasped the fist-sized lock and flexed his muscles. With a cracking sound, the entire piece of metal fell apart. He kicked the iron door aside and ran out. Going down the water pipe like a squirrel, he flipped his body to the fourth floor. He hung upside down like a bat with his feet on the balcony rail using the Eased Gripping Motion of Fearless Steps. He could see the inside of room 316 through the balconys window. Black Mambas lips twisted up. This was the expression he wore when he was amused. Bell Man and Mike were kneeling on the floor with their hands tied behind their back. The intruder kicked at Marks toes with his heels. The opening and closing of Marks mouth looked comical. Fortunately, the two intruders were standing with their backs to the veranda. Bell Mans eyes, upon finding Black Mamba, widened. The figure hanging upside down outside the window with the night as its background was definitely Dracula. It was surprising. The intruder, who saw Bell Mans expression, turned around with the gun in hand. Putain, cong! Surprised, Black Mamba leaned backward as though he was rolling his hips into his back and pulled his upper body parallel to the ground. The intruders gun spewed fire at the same time. Bang, bang Crash The low quality plastic glass that made up the entire veranda crashed down with the sound of bats hitting sandbags. Black Mamba used the tension in his back to rip through the air and shoot into the room like a cannonball. Black Mambas body, suspended in the air, turned fiercely like a wind mill. It was the Double Engaged Air Attack. Eagles used both claws in the air to grasp at each other and shake their opponents fiercely. Pa pa pa Pa pa pa The intruders fired at a surprising speed. A humans moving eye had its limits, a blind spot, like how ears had a hearing range. The intruders were unable to target Black Mamba, who was spinning fiercely in the air. Ta ta Ta ta There were two rounds of two taps. The intruders crumpled as though they were fainting by the time Black Mamba touched the ground. Theyd each had their heads and chests shot by the double taps. Bell Man and Mike stared at Black Mamba with blank eyes. A small pistol had a low impact rate. The moving force of a 0.35-inch parabellum used in a Beretta was within 400 joules. It was 25 percent of a 0.21-inch mini pistol. A special soldier had a risk of retaliating despite an injury. Black Mamba always used a double tap in risky situations. Mike and Bell Man looked from the intruder to Black Mamba with uncomprehending eyes. Black Mamba had appeared outside the window upside down, smashing the verandas window, then he ran in and killed the intruders, all in one breath. The situation was over before they would even regain their senses. Black Mamba, those b*stards asked for the captains location. The captains in danger. Mike spoke rapidly with his ruined face. Ive already sent Emil. Youre really pathetic. Mike and Bell Man turned their faces away in shame. They wouldnt have been able to find an excuse even if they had ten mouths. They had lowered their guards and been done in due to their deep sleep. They were indignant, but it was ultimately their fault. On top of that, Bell Man had made the mistake of alerting the intruders to Black Mambas presence. Black Mamba, thank you. I owe you my life once again. I was stupid, Bell Man apologized with a shamed face. They were intruders that no human could have withstood. Im glad youre alive. But Bell Man, it looks like youre a panda man now. Is Mike a glasses-wearing bear? Hahaha! The two were sporting black eyes due to the hitmans violence. Black Mamba was unable to hold back his laughter. Damn it, stop laughing. They were shoving guns on our foreheads. What were we supposed to do? Im not you, Bell Man complained. Whys that man acting up? Mike was kicking the corpse on the ground in a fit of madness. You know that his personalitys shot. Hes probably doing that because his pride took a hit. That idiot. Wait, Jang Shin! There was a high possibility that a hitman had intruded Jang Shins room, too. Black Mamba kicked his way out of room 316. Just then, the door to room 318 opened, and Jang Shin jumped out with Glocks at hand. Bang Bang Jang Shin opened fire. Surprised out of his wits, Black Mamba threw his body onto the corridors floor and shouted, Jang! Its me! Ack, big brother? Why are you coming out of there? Jang Shin screamed. You piece of sh*t, did you tape your eyes shut? He threw out his frustrations, which stemmed from fear. It was a hitman. One ran off. What time? A minute ago. It had only been a minute since he was messing up room 316. Something happened. Jang Shins face was splattered with blood. Half of his left ear was falling off, and his nose had caved in. Bell Man! When Mu Ssang called for Bell Man, Jang Shin shook his head. No problem. The sergeant is just injured. Bell Man ran into room 318 as Jang Shin began to shout rapidly, Black Mamba, you need to get rid of him. Tsk! Black Mamba clicked his tongue and ran out. The smell of blood passed the corridor and went into the lobby. He didnt know who the hitman was, but if he allowed him to get away, their teams traces could be revealed. Black Mamba jumped the stairs in a rush. Guest, please mind your Dude, mind your own. The desk man who was blocking his path in the lobby bounced to the floor as though a buffalo had rammed into him. Vroom By the time he crossed the lobby, a motorbikes engine roared. Motherf*cker! Black Mambas face crumpled. Crash The front door, which was made of strong oak wood, shattered. Black Mamba, who shot out like a cannonball, crossed the grounds as fast as the wind. Ugh, what? Bell Man faltered as he jumped into room 318. The corpse strewn across the doors entrance had caught his foot. A masked man had collapsed in front of the shower booth located near the rooms entrance. A large knife had been twisted into the man, making the wound wider. Blood spluttered in his gaping chest. The rooms floor sloshed with water. Bell Man frowned at the amount of blood. Thats a confirmed kill, Mike whined as he trailed behind. Burimer, where are you? H-h-here! The sound of strangled breathing came from behind the couch. Damn! Burimer was gasping on the couch with his arms wrapped around his abdomen. His face was twisted from holding back the pain. Bell Man hurriedly supported Burimers upper body. Jang Shin, go grab the emergency bag from my room, Bell Man shouted as he took out atrophine and morphine from his spare bag. He-here. Jang Shin was frozen. Burimer had been shot when he blocked the front. If Burimer died, he would be riddled with guilt for the rest of his life. Sergeant, dont die! What do I do? Aaaah! Jang Shin cried. You little b*stard, get your sh*t together. Confirm-Contain-Communicate, dont you know that?! Stop the blood flow from the exit wound. Bell Man shouted. Bell Man washed the entrance of the bullet wound with a disinfectant and scraped out the metal and clothing pieces which had followed in. A penetration wound was easier to treat than an internal wound. Some said that the pierced wound grew bigger when the bullet was pulled out, but that wasnt true. There was no difference in the size of a penetrated or extracted bullet hole. The only difference was when a rollback phenomenon occurred, in which the bullet flipped around. Its my fault. The sergeant covered me when that b*stard shot at me. The sergeant was done in while trying to protect me! The sergeant has two daughters, what do I do? I should have died. I should have been holding a handgun! Agh, aah! Jang Shin kept crying as Bell Man treated the wound. Dude, stop that. Its a mercenarys duty to be shot at with guns, and its a mercenarys duty to live or die, Mike shouted, unable to watch any longer. He became more eloquent day by day since he was beaten up by Black Mamba. Surprise flickered over Bell Mans face. This is surprising. It only went through the stomach and back. To think it didnt touch any of the viscera, how fortunate. I thought Id never see a day when I witnessed a flesh wound, Bell Man exclaimed once more. The exit wound was also clean, as there had been no rollback phenomenon. This was because the bullets moving force hadnt decreased from such a close-range gunshot. Bell Man finished the treatment and slapped Burimers shoulder. Oi, fishing man, stop whining. You dont even need to go to a hospital for this. You can go wrestle with the giant piranha in Shari in a few days. Get up. Chapter 90 - Episode 9: Death is a Mercenarys Friend Jang Shins mouth widened into a grin in the middle of helping, and he kneeled towards the east where the Mecca lay. Allahu ekbar! Allahs grace saved our sergeant. Mecca, be forever. Allahu ekbar! Jang Shin repeated the rising and falling prayer as he shouted Allahs name. He looked as though he was about to convert into Islam. Hey, Burimers Muslim, not you. I almost went mad listening to Black Mambas weird prayers. Now youre driving me up the wall. Mike spat his complaints without ill will as he felt his chest unclench. He could guess how much stress Jang Shin had been under. Sergeant, Allahs the best. I cried for Yuanshi Tianzun when the intruders came, but it didnt work. But the sergeant came to life when I shouted for Allah. Yeah, right, this b*stards finally gone out of his mind. What the hell is he talking about? Mike grasped the back of his neck. There was no way hed know who Yuanshi Tianzun was. Uuuugh, it hurts, it f*cking hurts. You quack b*stard, did you even use anesthesia? Burimer began to fuss once he regained his senses. Look at this guy talk. Black Mamba doesnt even give a peep when Im stitching bare skin. Youre a big guy, suck it up. Should I put you to sleep for the rest of your life? You b*stard, your specialtys in non-anaesthetic procedures. Im a human. Why are you comparing a human to a monster? Compare that monster to its own kind. It looks like you wont die, since youre talking your head off. Ha, I lose every ounce of affection I have toward you every time you talk. Go treat Jang Shin. His close combat skills were rather good, actually. I lived thanks to him. Bell Man sewed up Jang Shins falling ear and bridged his nose by filling it up with cotton. Its a miracle, a miracle! Hahaha! He had become odd-eared, but Jang Shin kept laughing. His dead mood had risen immediately after hearing Bell Mans assertion that there wasnt a problem. Bell Man slapped the back of Jang Shins head after treating him. Crying and laughing, what are you doing? Trying to audition for French comedies? Besides, whats up with this hotel? They had used silencers and cold weapons, but there still had been a commotion. However, the hotel workers didnt seem to have any reaction. It was either that the workers didnt care at all, or they were in cooperation with the intruders. They had received a surprise attack, but the whole ordeal had blown over without much loss. Everyone regained their balance. Theres nothing normal in this country. Oh right, hows the captain? Mike shouted, startled in the midst of his whining. Im here. The captain entered the room, panting, with Emil right behind him. Hows Burimer? Astounding. The bullet had been fired at such close range that it went through without rollback, a phenomenon in which the bullet flips around, as the back of the bullet is much heavier than the front with the loss of momentum. There werent many soft tissue injuries, either. He was blessed by Allah, then. And Black Mamba? Hes going after the hitman. Ahhh! The captain expelled a vague huff of air that was between a sigh and a cry. The masks that were all over the floor filled his sight, to his distaste. He had understood the situation while he was climbing up the stairs from the first floors communication room. His wrong decision had nearly demolished the team. He couldnt raise his head due to guilt. Not knowing how to face Black Mamba when he returned, the captain kept sighing. Its a relief. Theres nothing to it but Allahs grace. We should all become Muslims at this rate. Allahu ekbar! Mike offered an Arabian prayer with a solemn face, but it was too early for Mike to be praising Allah. They didnt know that a greater threat was approaching them after this minor incident. Black Mamba jumped over the hotels fence in a single jump. He could see the red rear lights growing further away. Black Mamba threw his body like the wind, kicking off the fence. Its too late! He ran as fast as he could until the roadblocks were crushed under his feet, but it wasnt enough. The bike had already sped up. Not even the great Black Mamba could catch up to a speeding motorbike. A Glock didnt have the necessary range, and the darts werent adequate for long-distance throws. He searched for something to throw while running, but nothing stood out. He couldnt even find a pebble because the streets were lined with bricks on either side. He saw a road blocking barricade. The three pod barricade, made of arm-width thick iron rods, was rusted red. Great! He ripped out the metal rod without slowing his speed. The connecting points ripped out at the immense strength as though the road had cracked open. The distance between the bike grew to 820 feet as this happened. Black Mambas back bent like a bow. His resonance whirled around before concentrating in his right arm. The moment his left arm shot forward, his back, which had been curved as the full moon, straightened, and his twisted hips twisted to the opposite side. It was the perfect throwing posture. The metal pipe that was boosted with momentum and power flew out at a fearful speed. The hitman turned around at the sound of the air being sliced, and his pupils dilated. An increasing dot, something with tremendous bloodlust, was coming at him. He had suffered through many experiences as a DGSE clean-up member. This meant death. Putain, I didnt want to do this in the first place. To think theyd provoke a monster like him, the DGSEs losing their touch. Thwack The rusted metal pipe with the width of an arm shattered his spinal cord and poked out of his chest. Crash The bike slid across the ground as it threw across the road. The hitman, who had lurched to the ground, bounced around before coming to a stop. A rush of pain, as though he had been skewered by a hot metal stick, was the last thing he felt. Both the bike and the human crumpled like tissue paper. The unnamed DGSE hitman finished his life like this despite his perfect escape. It was all due to meeting such a monster. Sh*t, he died. Black Mamba clicked his tongue. Anyone who survived after being skewered by a two-inch-thick pipe was a zombie, not a human. All the hitmen who had attacked the hotel had died. His attempt to figure out who was behind the attacks went up in smoke. He took off the hitmans mask. He was a mixed-race man with a healthy physique. That was it. Black Mamba retrieved the Beretta and didnt bother touching the corpse. There would be nothing but dust on such a person even if he rummaged through his belongings. All it would do was add to his nightmares. Black Mamba looked down at the ruined corpse. He looked back at himself anew, as he had skewered a man who was running away in order to live without hesitation. He was no different from insect exterminators. Ha, I should live by whatever means in order to live like a human! But am I a complete human when Im making graves for other people in order to live myself? Wherever he was, a blood storm was bound to follow. He had erased six people from his hit list that day alone. The asura his master had talked of, the spirit of death, was him. Was there achievement associated with killing the living? After killing whom he had to kill, Black Mambas shoulders fell as he walked back to the hotel. By the time Black Mambas team arrived in Paya, Ocelot had touched down at NDjamenas airport runway. It had taken a day to travel from Singapore to NDjamena. There was no route from Singapore to NDjamena. If there wasnt, he just had to create one. Ocelot wasnt a moralistic human who abided by the rules of other humans. He used slightly illegal methods but killed no one. All that happened was the pilot and co-pilot losing their bladders, and the Parisian passengers returning home at a slightly later time. You pathetic existences! You should be praising my benevolence. Soldiers were crowded around the runway, chattering like alligators. He supposed it could have been surprising, the fact that a hijacked passenger plane as large as that had landed safely. An adequate object came into view. It was a plane that was being tailed by an aircraft refueler. It was a Douglas C47 Skytrain, a medium-sized transport. It was an antique that had been produced 30 years earlier, but long-distance travels were its advantage. Silently, Ocelot slid up the rear ramp. He was fast. Others would have mistaken him as the shadow of a passing cloud. Kalim was a medium transport aircraft pilot in Habres army. His beloved Douglas C-47 Skytrain had been serialized 20 years ago, but it was still energetic. The days mission was to relocate the stored military supplies at Cameroons Duala airport to NDjamena. The French government had started to supply weapons and rations to the Habre army last November. They had stocked rations that were rotting away in storage, but they were enough to use in the war against Chad. It was 1,330 miles to Duala in a straight line. He could slap a womans butt once he finished the six-hour return flight and was safely at the Meridien Hotel. Kalim finished filling up the tank and took off in a happy mood. The aircraft stabilized 18,000 feet in the air. He switched the flight into auto mode and chatted with the co-pilot. Kalims good mood didnt last long. I believe you should go to Paya! Kalim and the co-pilot fell into silent panics at the sound of a third voice. A golden-haired ghost appeared in the cockpit. It had to be a ghost, as there was no other existence that could appear so suddenly, like smoke rising from the cockpits floor. Who-who are you? Ahh, Kanma! They were in a standoff. The NDjamena airport was filled with security measures. How he made it through security and entered the sealed cockpit were questions that didnt help, even with answers. The reality was in their faces, threatening them. The co-pilot reacted more realistically. He took out his pistol in a flash. Kalims eyes widened. The ghosts movements were faster than the trigger, as it had already grasped the wrist in which the pistol was held. Crack The wrist bone cracked, and the scene of the ghosts hand wrapping around the co-pilots neck registered slowly in his eyes. Cr-ack. The co-pilots neck was broken like wooden chopsticks. Kalim became an abiding lamb that very second. The Skytrain that had been heading to Duala changed directions 18,000 feet in the air and headed east. The mission to head towards Dualas airport had been wiped from Kalims brain. Kalim thought of himself and his tribe as more important than the nation. He didnt have a single iota of intention to have his neck snapped by the ghost. Kalims plane arrived in Payas skies two hours and thirty minutes later. C Approach control, this is Skytrain 167, altitude 4,000 feet. Requesting landing. C Skytrain 167, your landing is denied. I repeat, Skytrain 167, your landing is denied. The control center denied his landing with certainty. There was no control center that would welcome a foreign flight with open arms. Panicked, Kalim turned to the ghost. The damned ghost simply stared at his unspoken question of what to do. It was a silent order to fix things himself. C Theres a problem on board. I request an emergency landing. C Skytrain 167, wait at your altitude. Go down to 930. Kalim followed the damned ghosts orders without a token of protest. When the Douglas that was circling the airport once more began to lower its altitude and approach a landing speed, the control tower flew into action. C Skytrain 167, raise your altitude. Get down to 310. Speed 250, and flap 23 degrees, ordered the ghost as though he was the control center. C Control, I have no choice. The airlift is dropping. Please open a runway. Kalim followed his orders like a puppet. Grumble When the aircraft lowered its altitude even more, the control center threw down a warning. C Skytrain 167, raise your altitude. You will be shot if you dont abide. I repeat. You will be shot down. Targeted? Very well. Flap 32, gear down. Kalim followed the orders with cold sweat running down his back. The Paya airport had long entered FROLINATs control. He would be arrested the moment he touched down. Kalim didnt care about that. He was from the northern Lumumba Tribe. Even if he was arrested, all he had to do was switch sides. He could even be treated as a hero since he had an aircraft. Insect, is there a weapon onboard? Kalim turned to look at the ghost with a strange face. What about a weapon? Kalims face paled in the middle of his question. The ghost was wearing a parachute and putting on its harness. Well, it doesnt matter if there is or isnt, I suppose. There should be enough fuel after all. You, you crazy b*stard! Long, thin fingers wrapped around his neck. Good work, insect. Crack The ghost who had snapped his neck like a twig jumped off the rear ramp. Kalim, who was far from the ideal soldier, was the traditional African soldier who cared most for himself and his tribe, so he finished his life meaninglessly. And he was soon fated to turn into a pile of ashes. Grrrrrr The Skytrain had already entered its landing phase. It headed onto the runway at a tremendous speed. Ocelot, who floated in the sky, looked down as though he was admiring his own masterpiece before floating down. Crash The aircraft crashed into the runway. The plane, which had turned into a ball of fire, rolled into the control tower as its momentum dictated. A small personal aircraft on standby at a spare runway attempted to move away, but it was too late. With a resounding crash of collision, an even larger explosion followed. Chapter 91 - Death is a Mercenarys Friend It was ammunition that had been stored in the fuselage tank of the plane. The two planes that had crashed into each other were burning furiously. The situation wasnt finished. With a loud bang, a large fireball erupted. The main wing separated from the fuselage and fell like rain. Like a bomb, the flying wing sped toward the vehicle they were in. The airplanes fuel tank was located inside it. The principle of how a plane flew was simple. The planes engine, which caused it to go at a high speed, caused a lower pressure on top than on the bottom. To reduce the effects of gravity, the fuel tank was placed specifically to combat it. For commercial planes, the fuel tank was usually in the shape of a box beam. For military planes, however, exposing the fuel tank was the worst possible thing one could do. The large wing that had broken off hit the fuel tank like a knife. Boom An explosion much more powerful than anything theyd ever experienced before erupted. Flames bursted upward and caused billowing fire and smoke. The sound of sirens, screams, continuing explosions, and sweeping winds filled the air. With the second explosion, the Paya Airport was in chaos. Ocelot, who was parachuting down in a relaxed mood, had a smile on his face. He thought he could understand how Nerora, who had watched from atop a balcony after setting fire to Rome, had felt. This is the second most fun thing after hunting humans. I should continue making the most of it. Ocelot was one to say such gruesome things with ease. After gaining such satisfaction from the Paya Airport, Ocelot would soon go on to cause more trouble. Ocelot wasnt a human. The people who celebrated the full moon on New Years Day with fireworks were no different than burning rats or bugs in a fire. The dancing flames and shouts of humans were nothing more than an entertaining sight to watch. Located 160 feet above ground, Ocelot waved his left hand. His fingernails, as sharp as a knife blade, stuck out two inches from his fingertips. His joints twisted unrealistically so that his hand reached the back of his neck. The line of the parachute finally broke. The canopy and the man were both freed. The canopy flew out into the wind, and the man was pulled to the ground by gravity. With a thud, dust flew out. Even with such great force, his flexible latex-like joints absorbed the shock. The invention of humans inhibited evolution, but they are useful. Humans are full of contradictions. I am too, full of contradictions! he mumbled as he headed to the warehouse area where there were many storage units. Paya was a city deep within Africa. He was lucky that it had an airport, because if it hadnt and hed had to go by land, he would have seriously thought of giving up on the clients request. Ocelot treasured cleanliness and wouldnt have wanted to travel for several days in a jeep bombarded by dust and sand. Even though it was late at night, the warehouse area still had several trucks ready for freight. That will do. He spotted a Dodge truck come out of the warehouse area. In the trucks cargo space, a black shadow flitted inside. Unaware of its stowaways presence, the truck passed the airport and accelerated. Creak The sharp sound of bending metal was heard. Whats that? When the driver turned around, his eyes grew so wide, it looked like they would tear. The cargo area was being ripped apart. Two white hands were shredding through it as if it was paper. Reuhur, Reuhur! yelled the driver intensely. The truck swayed. Human, look forward! The voice was so serene that it could have put him to sleep. The driver immediately stopped screaming. The low voice penetrated straight into his brain without passing through his ears. Experiencing severe fear, his consciousness suddenly became immensely clear. The mans words sounded like the command of a god from heaven. Ocelot had the skill to use the powerful resonance of his voice to penetrate the human mind. He didnt have the power to kill them with it, but he could make weak-minded humans his puppets. Wheres the hotel? The driver replied without hesitation, Its in the city of Sitonga. Are there hotels anywhere else? The only hotel in Paya is Meren. Alright. Drive. The fearful driver stepped on the accelerator without answering. Since Hotel Le Meren wasnt too far from the airport, it didnt take more than ten minutes to reach it. So its around here. In the darkness, a pair of eyes gleamed as it stared at Hotel Le Meren. It wasnt a reflective sort of light, but similar to the red glare of a predator. Ocelot pulled out a pair of Raybans from his pocket and put them on. The dark lens covered his frightening eyes. Youve done well. The truck driver suddenly shuddered. It wasnt the sound of a god as he had heard before. This time, it was a murderous tone. Please let me live. You ask too much of me. Ocelots gaze locked onto the Misbaha hanging in front of the driver seat windshield. Is that a relic the weak humans rely on?! Ignorant fools! The Misbahas string broke as it fell into Ocelots hands. How pretty. If it was colored with blood, it would be even prettier. Slam The Misbaha was thrust into the drivers forehead. The Muslim Misbaha was similar to the Catholic rosary and had a Quran attached at its end instead of a cross. The hand made Quran imitation was dyed in red. Ocelot was reminded of his client. He was sure Tawar was just an alias. The top assassins always confirmed the identities of their clients. Ocelot didnt care who the client or target was. An identity check was only necessary for crafty and weak humans. Murder was his hobby, and his sole source of pleasure. To kill and the act of killing was what was importanthe didnt care about the frivolous other purposes that surrounded it. He only needed the money received from the clients to live in the human world comfortably. Youve received payment, so you must do your moneys worth. Ocelot stepped through the door of the hotel nonchalantly. It was approaching midnight. Ocelot stopped his hand that had reached out for the neck of the black man who was asleep with his nose buried in the desk. There were eight squirming humans here. He didnt want to waste his time spilling useless blood. No, he had refrained because the man looked dirty. The sight of his sweaty neck made his urge to kill dissipate. Ocelot shuddered then wiped his hands on his white handkerchief, which was embroidered with a rose. To Ocelot, the urge to kill was at the same level of sexual lust. As sexual attraction was needed for lust, he only killed when he felt a certain charm about the kill. Ignorance was bliss. The deskman who had one foot near deaths door was left to sleep in peace. His sensitive hearing that was greater than that of a hunting dog picked up the breathing of eight men. The count was perfect. Oh, were there already guests here before me? The inside of the building was filled with the smell of fresh blood. The smell of blood was always refreshing. Once he smelled blood, the sleeping predatory instinct within him arose. Blood, he wanted to see blood. Like a woman, he licked his red lips and looked back at the black man at the desk. All he had to do was swipe his fingernail across his artery. His contemplation was short. He wanted to see blood in a hurry, but he refused the dirty man. In a relaxed manner, Ocelot went up to the second floor, then stopped to listen. A humans hearing could register 20 to 20,000 hertz. Ocelot could hear 20 to 400,000 hertz, six or seven times better than normal. When he couldnt sense any noise, he went up another flight of stairs. The captain was the first to realize something was wrong. After experiencing many wars, his body was sending him warning bells. The heavy sensation that seemed to be pushing down on his body was like the time he had been targeted by a homing missile in Algeria. It was a situation in which he couldnt escape the inevitable. His war experience was setting off an alarm in his head. They needed Black Mamba. He prayed that Black Mamba was wearing his headset. C Black Mamba, Black Mamba. He had requested help from him several times but there was no answer. It had been a farfetched hope. Black Mamba, who had entered the city, had no need to be listening to his headset. However, the captains desperate hope had not been for nothing. Black Mambas spatial awareness picked up on Ocelot. His spatial awareness skill worked like a submarine sonar and made it possible to decipher the exact location of a persons presence. It was different from his ability to sense human presence. How could this be?! How could something so impossible happen? The entity that he registered with his spacial awareness skill was himself. There are two of me? If it wasnt a doppelganger, then his spatial awareness wasnt working properly. Neither option made sense. Theres no rule to say there couldnt be another human like me. He suddenly got goosebumps. Just thinking of another person with skill similar to his wreaking havoc at the hotel was a gruesome thought. Please! Please! Crack The brick started to split, and his hearing was elevated to its maximum potential. The dark shadow sped through the night like lightning to reach Paya. Everyone, get ready to attack. The mercenaries pulled out each of their guns, locked and loaded. No one expressed their doubt. Bell Man and Jang Shin pushed Burimer under the bed. Damn, what can we do with these flimsy guns? Mike muttered as he ran into the shower. Bell Man and Jang Shin hid behind the sofa. The captain hid behind the door. The silent room was suddenly filled with tension. Click It was the sound of a lock turning on the door. Hes here! Quiet! Bell Man stopped Jang Shin from talking. The locked door rattled angrily. The mercenaries held their breath and concentrated their attention on the door. How, how could this be?! From behind the sofa, Bell Man let out a scream without realizing it. Crack The metal door bent inwards as it was slowly pushed open. The eyes of all the mercenaries grew wider. Crack Unable to resist the force, the hinges broke off. The door that should have opened outwards was pushed inward. It had lost its upper hinge, now dangling on just its lower one. Lit up by the dim light of the hallway, a long dark silhouette stretched out toward them. He was an enormously tall man with hair that came down to his shoulders. Puh puh puh Puh puh puh The Glock and Berreta exploded with fire. They were mercenaries trained well by Black Mamba. Their surprise soon changed to attacking. The man who had been standing in front of the door suddenly disappeared. As if he hadnt been there from the beginning, there was no trace of him. All the mercenaries could do was blink. Thinking they had seen a joint hallucination, they rubbed their eyes. The only reason they knew this was reality was due to the broken door. Stay alert! At the captains command, the mercenaries all headed toward the wall. Having to stay alert inside a room was ridiculous, but this was no normal human they were dealing with. Bang The wall that connected them to room 319 exploded. Something dark swooped through the dust and cement and ambushed them. Upon hearing gunshots, the captain reacted instinctively. He shot with the Glock continually. The human shape flitted in and out like a flag waving in the wind. The captain couldnt believe his eyes. Only after five of his bullets missed the figure did he realize his dire situation. Was a human able to maneuver around bullets even possible?! Puh puh puh The special sniper was noticeably different. He shot in between the intermittent breaks of Mikes shots and showered him in bullets. Swish Ocelot lightly maneuvered through them and attacked the captain. Ack! Mike jumped in surprise and rolled out of the way. Crash With immense speed, an unknown entity crashed into the shower wall. Mikes eyes went dark. The object that the man had thrown at the captain without even looking was a pen. The pen shot through the concrete wall and stayed nailed in place. Cold sweat ran down his back. One wrong move, and he would have died from a flying pen. When Ocelots godlike powers came into play, the mercenaries couldnt establish a proper target, since the surface area of the target had become a hundred times smaller in an instant. The bullets that Mike had shot only sent dust flying from the walls. Even Bell Man and Jang Shin were unable to find the opportunity to shoot. His movements were impossible to decipher without Black Mambas quick and consecutive shots. The captain shuddered at the sudden realization. This opponent couldnt be human. His murderous intent that sent chills down his spine and the merciless evil that seemed to shake the captains very core caused him to become paralyzed. They couldnt avoid it or prepare for ithe was too powerful for them. They had the sudden realization of how it felt for a human to go up against Black Mamba. Anticipating his death, the captain closed his eyes. Chapter 92 - Episode 11: Death is a Mercenarys Friend Chapter 92: Chapter 12, Episode 11: Death is a Mercenarys Friend He had pathetically dragged his comrades to their death. He couldnt bear to see Black Mamba again. Even death would put him more at ease. The captain emptied himself of all hope. Oh! The captain rolled sideways without his own intent. It was Burimer who had been hidden under the bed by Bell Man. Burimer had used all of his remaining strength to pull at the captains ankle. The captain had fallen due to it and rolled to the ground like a desert spider scuttling for cover. Swoosh A menacing fist passed by him with a roar and landed at the place where the captains head had been moments ago. Shoot, shoot! Burimer yelled. That sly punk! Mike screamed. Bell Man, Jang Shin, and Mike were having a difficult time trying to find the right opportunity to shoot. The invader was like a character from a fantasy novel who transported from one place to another in the blink of an eye, and now the captain and Burimer were both intertwined with the target. They couldnt kill the invader with their comrades in shooting range, so they didnt dare pull the trigger. Their hearts were just burning in anxiety. Ack! A bug dares to interrupt me. With a strange laugh, the invader spit out these words from his mouth. The anger of his missing punch was now directed at Burimer. Thud Ack! Burimer screamed in agony. The invader kicked Burimer in the stomach, then yelled at the captain. It was too extensive to explain in detail, but the time it took the invader to break through the wall and yell at the captain was only two or three seconds. The mercenaries target locking wasnt able to catch up to his movements. In their eyes, the invaders silhouette seemed to be stretching in and out like a rubber band. The captain, his face pale white, repetitively pulled the trigger. Shwoop The invader split into two, then three, then four. The captain was unable to hit any of the targets. The eight bullets that had been left in the magazine were all gone. Click This was the sound of an empty clip. The captains mind went blank. He hadnt been able to graze a hair, and yet his magazine was already empty. Disappointment and defeat overtook him. Sophie, Daddys sorry! The face of his daughter waiting for him to return to Marseille flashed clearly in his mind. It wasnt yet time for the captain to die. Burimer had constantly met bad luck, while the captain was blessed with good luck. With a crash, the bent front door fell as it came clean off its hinges, a dark shadow standing in front of it. The shadow had run through the door like a grenade and slammed into the assassin, who had reached out to grab the captain. The assassin was flung out of room 319 through the collapsed wall. Black Mamba stood there, frowning intensely. The expression on the face of his comrades upon seeing Black Mambas impeccably timed arrival was a sight to see. They looked like babies who had just found their mother after being lost at an amusement park. Black Mamba! The same word shot out of all the mercenaries mouths. Black Mamba is here! Were going to escape. Wait! Black Mamba stopped the captain. Ill take care of him. Bell Man, treat Burimer. The captains face turned red. Due to his fear, he had completely forgotten about Burimer. If there had been a mouse hole, he would have gladly crawled into it. Black Mamba let out a sigh of relief. He had made it just in time to stop the attacker. There had been good reason for him to run there like his life depended on it. A person with this sort of skill would have already ended them if he had used a gun. In that respect, they had been lucky. The monster that had been flung from the room got up and dusted off his clothes. Only then did Black Mamba observe his adversary in detail. He was a 6-foot-tall blond man built like a Greek statue. Who the hell are you? Unlike his calm voice, the whites of his eyes were full of murderous intent. Black Mamba flinched. The sight he saw in front of him was a mass of blood. The man looked as if he had been molded by blood, and he could sense the cruelty and violence emanating from him. The man reminded him of the rough version of himself in his dreams. There was good reason to have sensed him as his doppelganger. The reason he flinched was not because of the mans cruelty or evilness; Choi Do Shik was more vicious than this man. Compared to the predatory viciousness emanating from this man, Choi Do Shiks cruelty was like a weapon that cut up souls. It was his voice that had caused him to flinch. The sound of his voice penetrated his brain and shook him. He felt as if he needed to answer him, similar to the effect of Choi Do Shiks hypnosis technique. Ohm mani ban mae hom! Oh ohm! Unknown gibberish came out from Black Mambas mouth. Chanting in this language was able to rid the world of evil. Although he was unable to use its full potential since he wasnt fully enlightened, he was still able to spread its power across the room. Ocelot suddenly felt uneasy. Unlike the sound, something else seemed to have penetrated through his body. His mind seemed to ring, and his thirst for murder was quelled. What is he? Warning bells went off in Ocelots head. Can a human follow my movements? What is this immense power I sense? What is that strange chant that quelled my lust for blood? Question after question ran through his brain. He was unable to resume attacking and instead observed this human carefully, like he was a lion that had met a tiger. Warning bells sounded in Black Mambas head, as well. Could this guy be human? The place where his shoulder had collided into him throbbed. Even if he had run into a boulder, it shouldnt have hurt this much. The violence emanating from him made his skin crawl. He wasnt sure if he was intentionally spewing such energy or if he had done it unknowingly, but either way, he was like an indestructible predatory cat. Plus, what was that strange voice? Black Mambas face grew as hard as stone. It didnt have much effect on him, but to the average human, he was sure it would have a detrimental effect. Black Mamba glared at Ocelot. Such skill belongs to a mute, what a waste. Ha! The invaders eyes, which were glaring at Black Mamba, grew bigger. His opponents eyes glittered, and he realized that he had met someone like himself. Oh, youre a hybrid. A hybrid, but someone like myself. Im glad I was able to come all this way to meet you. How interesting. How incredibly interesting. Hahaha! Ocelot sucked on his lips, which were redder than a womans, and smiled without opening his mouth. It was a habit that came out when he became excited. This was similar to the habits of actual ocelots. Black Mamba! Hes dangerous. Even guns are no use. The captain couldnt bear to say that Burimer had been attacked. Between Black Mamba and the invader, a tension as thick as fog hovered in the place. There was no reason to cause Black Mamba to waver. Captain, hes not an opponent that guns will be any use against. We have to figure out a defense tactic and figure out a way to block his attacks. We cant attack first, Black Mamba warned him in a low voice. This is driving me crazy. Is this really Earth? Have we really not just been transported to another world? As I thought, this is a horrid place. How could someone like Black Mamba show up here? Its the worst. The yankees must have run nuclear experiments here. Only a person exposed to radiation could end up like that, dont you think? Emil and Jang Shin chatted without any sense of anxiety. They truly were the best rookie warrior combination. The captain exchanged the magazine of his Glock. Black Mamba, well help you. Captain, this is a Fogham Zech situation. Do not exit the room. Use the bed and the furniture to barricade the door and the balcony. You must not attack first, Black Mamba warned him again sternly. The opposition was not human. If they attacked carelessly, they would all be swept away. Big brother, that guys insane. Can you beat him? Of course. I am Mu Ssang, after all, Black Mamba reassured Jang Shins concerns. He had trained using the thousand-year-old Oh Geun Gong. For him, it was much more disturbing to fight against a martial arts master like Choi Do Shik than the monster in front of him now who only had a massive physical advantage. Black Mamba pushed his energy into him. First, he had to stop him from acting unpredictably. Even in the desert where stars showered down from the sky, he had continued to train to achieve enlightenment. He had been able to create an energy field since the day he placed the headstone over Chartress grave. The weak resonance could grow quickly and spread over a wide range. Huh, what is this?! Ocelot, who had been running wildly toward him, suddenly lost his balance and wavered. Unlike the unsavory feeling he had felt before, this one felt different, as the wave crashed over and swept through him. The average person wouldnt have felt it, but Ocelot, with his overactive senses, noticed its power instantly. He was suddenly put into a bad mood. Are you a mercenary, too? asked the invader again. He spoke English well. You came already knowing that. My targets were the eight members of Legion Etranger. A monster like you wasnt part of the clients hit list. Hit list? Black Mamba was taken aback. A request from a client? Who, and for what reason, would send this extraordinary man? What purpose did a couple of special task mercenaries serve He suddenly had a lot to think about. I am that mercenary. Ocelot put his index finger up and wagged it back and forth. Dont pull my leg. A powerful mutant as a mercenary? The striped hyena will laugh upon hearing this. Mutant? Oh ho, oh dear, are you not aware of your identity?! Im a demigod. You, too, are like me. Oh dear, my chest is still sore. I am Ocelot. Lets be friends. Haha! Ocelot made the grand gesture of opening his arms out to him as he laughed. Black Mamba already knew that this man was similar to him. Having inherited godlike abilities from his mother, he, too, had once had the skill to teleport. This skill had been transformed to his spatial perception skill, but the root of the skill remained with him. The man kept claiming they were the same, but Black Mamba didnt agree with him. Friends with that crazy lunatic? Hed rather commit suicide with his pen*s in his mouth. His adversary was blabbering on nonchalantly while Black Mamba was on full alert. He could see the violence burning behind the whites of his eyes. He was smiling now, but he could attack and bite at any moment. I am mercenary Black Mamba. Whether youre a mutant or a new species, you can think whatever you want. I dont know what youre talking about. Haha, pathetic fool, an all-powerful being became a mere mercenary and ended up as a civilian. Mere mercenary? Civilian? I dont think thats anything that someone who kills the Chinese for a living has the right to say. Black Mamba looked for an opportunity as he dragged the conversation on. If he charged after his comrades, he couldnt control the situation. Even if he was to get into a fight with him, the consequences for those in the surrounding area would be detrimental. That was the reason he had to get him out of the building. Ocelot was flabbergasted. He was astonished to think that this man thought he was a mere human. The Chinese? Dont make me laugh. Humans are but the subjects of my hobby. Mutants are the highest predators of the food chain. Murder is the art in which a mutant displays its dominance. Im different from the bugs that kill for mere pennies. The mutants words bothered Black Mamba. A mutant was a deviant, an oddity, a freak of nature. He was no freak of nature, which meant that he was a deviant. Deviant wasnt a familiar word in the Iran vocabulary. I am human. These men are my friends. Look here, hybrid, just as a human cannot live like a cockroach, a mutant cannot live like a human. Do you know how much these clothes you just put a hole in cost? You wouldnt be able to buy it with three months of a mercenarys salary. Why would a mutant live like a lowly civilian? Black Mambas eyes flashed red. He was disgusted by his words. They all held traces of racism, superiority, and believing in his own superiority. Nigimi ppong, you punk! The clothes on your back, your sunglasses, dress shoes, and even that mousse slathered on your hair are all items that were made by the hands of these lowly civilians you talk about. If you think humans are dirty and you hate them, then take it all off and walk around naked, you punk! Black Mamba no longer wished to listen to the punks frivolous banter. He was beyond insane. He pulled out his Glock and showered him in bullets. Puh puh puh Oof! Ocelot, who had suddenly been overwhelmed with bullets, spun like a top. The bullets swept past the place where his head and stomach had been and landed in the wall. The unstoppable three taps whizzed forlornly through the empty air. Impressive. Black Mamba was sincerely impressed. Ocelot had avoided his unannounced triple shot within a short distance. He was indeed not human. Ocelot cocked his head in confusion, his beautiful golden hair fluttering. He had the facade of a man that would send any shallow woman head over heels. Oh, very nice. You can get rid of the toy now. Ocelot was full of confidence. Guns were a joke. Unless it was the new and powerful Berretta, other guns were no match for his physical skills. Chapter 93 - Episode 12: Death is a Mercenarys Friend The hand that knocked away Ocelots wrist became another weapon as he swung it at his neck. Ocelot stepped back in a blur as his arm extended and a fist charged into his chest. Thud! It sounded like a drum. The speeding hand hitting his chest made a sound as if it had hit a Kevlar bulletproof vest. After attacking Ocelots chest, which caused Ocelot to jump back, Black Mamba used his elbow to hit his chin and went into his more advanced attacks. He continued by using all the best martial arts moves he knew. Ocelot wasnt an easy adversary, either. His upper and lower body extended and shrank away flexibly as if flying away in the wind. Black Mambas strongest moves were used for attacks, while the middle tier was used for defense. Hands and feet made contact with each other. Ocelot wasnt having a difficult time combating against Black Mambas martial arts skills. Black Mambas opponents joints were more flexible than his. No, Ocelot was more like an octopus that didnt have any joints. Even within close range, his feet would attack Black Mambas stomach, and his heel would come up from behind his back and hit his head. Even if Black Mamba was able to just barely avoid him, he would have his chin kicked by the top of Ocelots foot. His elbows bent outward, and his hands hit his neck. His feet, which had just grazed past him, suddenly swung back and hit his head. Black Mamba was just able to avoid a critical, hit but the guys movements and power were becoming faster and stronger. Not only was Ocelots physique great, but his speed was just as impressive. His strange timing and angles of attacking were tiring Black Mamba out in trying to avoid them. Gong Ah! Ocelots chin suddenly stiffened. Finally, the strength of the energy force took full effect. When he placed his head backward, gravity took hold of him. His hands and feet felt like sandbags. This was the scary nature of a gravity attack. The first attack established the zero point, then the tenth and twentieth attacks were difficult to pass. Having attacked a thousand times, Ocelot stumbled with the weight of his heavy sandbag-like movements. Black Mamba had come right up close to him like a shadow and started to attack him with fervor. Ocelot was able to avoid half of them, but he took the brunt of the other half. The attacks to his chest and thighs damaged him severely. He contracted his muscles to protect himself from the energy penetrating his insides, but his muscles were ripping and collapsing. His breathing became heavy, and his speed died down. Wow! Emil, who had been watching with bated breath, suddenly let out an exclamation without meaning to. Mike hurriedly covered Emils mouth with his hand. It had been a violent collision between the two infinitely powerful entities. In the situation where Black Mamba was winning, if he became distracted, it could affect the flow of the battle. Mike was carefully observing the flow of the battle. Black Mambas mercenary status wasnt given to just anyone. The faces of the mercenaries, who had become their audience, turned red. Even Bell Man had become distracted by the battle so that Burimer was sadly left forgotten. Ocelot was furious. The bug wasnt fighting fair. He had wanted to fight head-on, one punch at a time as two gentlemen mutants. There was nothing he could do to defend himself when he was attacking him while Black Mamba was attached to him like a tick. His nose was bleeding, and his teeth were broken. A couple of his ribs were cracked, too. How could the invincible mutant end up like this? Die! screamed the wounded predator in frustration. The air shuddered, and the hotel building echoed with the sound. Oh! Black Mamba had predictive teleportation, his veins pulsing. Like a shadow, Ocelots hands and feet flew at him, and Black Mambas back bent backward to the point of almost breaking. It was an attack that ignored the principles of inertia. Pang A chilling rush of air passed him. The air seemed to shift under its power. Black Mamba broke out in a cold sweat. If he had bent forward to avoid it, his neck would have been sliced through. The object changed direction midair and sliced through the air once more. Ocelot had abandoned his pride and pulled out his whip, which Ocelot had named Gorgon. The whip was made with piano strings and wrapped with a whale muscle cable. It was coated with diamonds on the ends and had the highest elasticity, ductility, and lethality all in one. With Ocelots power, he could easily cut a person into two with one swing. Due to the whips unique ductility and elasticity, it was able to change directions quickly. The whip master could use it with ease, just a snap of his wrist to control the direction and power. Due to the whips unique flexibility, it was a weapon that was difficult to defend against. Black Mamba had never fought against a whip before. Ocelot pressed down his thumb and snapped his wrist up and down to swing the whip. Crack! With the force of inertia, the whip left a chilling sound in its wake. Black Mamba could have never dreamed that the whip that had cracked past him could suddenly swing back at him. Astonished, Black Mamba rolled to the ground. He fell hastily to the ground to avoid it like the character in a martial arts novel, although he looked more like a sub-character than the main. The whip grazed his back. His skin ripped, and red blood flowed from its trail. This was the power of the diamond coating. Even if it just grazed the skin, the skin could peel away. When Ocelot started to adamantly swing his whip, Black Mamba was unable to find a way around it. The whip, which changed directions and moved from side to side with ease, was unable to defend against and only caused him to be backed into a corner. He couldnt even hide for cover. Even if he were to hide behind a tree as thick as his thigh, he and the tree would both be cut in half. The immense power of the attacks left Black Mamba with cold sweat running down his face as he mustered all his agility to avoid getting hit. A whip was designed so that if the strength put into the handle was ten, the resulting attack would be 100 due to its centrifugal and centripetal force. The 18,000-square-foot space of the hotel garden was filled with trees. Once the two monsters were able to battle freely, the surroundings were left in chaos. The outdoor table and chairs shattered, the thick trees in the gardens were chopped down, and the statue of elephants and donkeys were all left broken. Anything within the vicinity of the whip was left in shambles. The tornado that was left in its path created a dust storm of leaves and water that clouded their vision. It wasnt the end of the whip but the mans wrist and fingers. Black Mamba soon realized the true shape of the whip. With the slight movements of his wrist and finger, Ocelot was able to freely control the whip. To read the opponents movements, it wasnt enough to just use his dynamic visual skill. He used his spatial perception skill to record Ocelots muscle movements directly into his brain. Black Mamba soon became used to the whips movements and swiftly started to move through them. He changed the focus of his attacks from defense to offense. Black Mamba saw an opportunity and headed to the side. Ocelot, not expecting such an attack, spun like a top. Swish The secretly launched second attack swept past Ocelots left eye and left a long gash on his face. Tsk! Black Mamba clicked his tongue. He had failed in his attack because he had miscalculated the guys movements. Based on his opponents fighting intuition, a similar attack wouldnt work again. Ah! Having spilled blood, Ocelots anger exploded. He was unable to deliver a critical hit and was only angering his opponent, so the sound of the flying whip became more powerful. The gandoura he was wearing was already gone. His exposed upper body was built. Oh no! Black Mambas pivoting foot sank into a hole dug by a rodent. Black Mamba had trained his balance by standing on a spinning log. Without delay, he immediately regained his balance, but Ocelots animalistic instincts didnt miss the small window of opportunity. Ocelots foot had fallen into the hole, so he had to move with his left foot for support. Ocelots whip flew toward the left side of Black Mambas waist, striving to take a big chunk out of his skin. Agh! Black Mamba, caught by the counterstrike, thrust out his left arm to block the whip. Swishing, the whip that was as thick as a finger wrapped two to three times around his left arm. Hahaha! Ill cut you in two. Ocelot laughed with a crooked smile on his face. He felt embarrassed for being beaten to a pulp by this hybrid. With his strange hand movements, the whip closed the distance between them. Crack! The sound of it sent chills up Black Mambas spine. This could be trouble. The shield he was wearing on this left hand was able to resist the power of the whip. Black Mamba thanked the unknown creator of the shield. Ocelot pulled at his whip. This incredible power was all due to its inertia. At that moment, Black Mamba flew up from the ground. Black Mamba didnt fight it with his power and instead embraced it. With the addition of his pushing up from the ground with the initial pull, he was able to close in fast. He was showing some vulnerability in exchange for breaking his opponents bones. When Black Mamba charged at him, it was Ocelots turn to be taken aback. He hadnt anticipated that the opponent would run at him. It was easy enough to say it, but putting it into action was impossible. A humans base survival instincts would reject it. Who in their right mind would risk their arm to slice the neck of their opponent? Ocelot had reigned supreme for decades. There had never been a time when he feared for his life. On the other hand, Black Mamba had experienced such a thing when he had battled against Choi Do Shik. There was a big difference in having fought against another strong opponent before. Ocelot shook off the whip from his wrist, but it was already too late. Both of Black Mambas feet flew straight at him. When he avoided the foot that aimed for his shoulder, the other would graze his head, and if he maneuvered to attack his head, the heel would come straight for his face. Black Mambas attacks ensued as such. The skill required him to hit a target, then bounce off that hit to aim at another target. It was like a fly landing and immediately flying. Black Mamba continued this pattern to land hits on Ocelot. From midair, his kicks rained down on him like hail. Deeply affected by the attack, the surroundings became filled with flying dirt and grass. Ocelot was flabbergasted at the second onslaught. Sixty years earlier, he had been the product of a Russian Siberia Kosac research project. He was furious at finding himself losing to this young punk. He was certain that his opponents physical build was weaker than his own, but the longer the fight continued, the more he seemed to be losing his advantage because of his Black Mambas strange movements. It was Asian martial arts that Ocelot had only ever heard about. There was a limit to defense. One slight moment of putting down his guard had left his shoulder exposed. Crash Ocelot collided with the garden landmark as he was flung back. Crack The six-foot-tall garden statue was uprooted and flung into the air. With immense strength and amazing speed, it was like two tigers with the strength of elephants were fighting. Black Mamba was about to stomp down on Ocelot, who had rolled onto the ground but flung backward as if someone had pulled him from behind. Crack! The whip whizzed past with an ear-splitting sound. Ocelot soon caught up to him to close the distance between them and kick him. Black Mamba was kicked in the chest while Black Mamba punched Ocelot straight in the face. Ack! Argh! Both screams were heard at the same time. Black Mambas ribs were broken at the same time that Ocelots nose collapsed. Ocelot, who had been close behind Black Mamba, stepped back as he wrapped his hands over his face. Ack, youre a stubborn one. Black Mamba swallowed his scream. A fracture had occurred in his third and fourth ribs. When Ocelots kick had come toward him, he had used all his strength to hit him in the chest, but he only grazed him in the end. In the same place where the whip had touched him, a piece of his flesh was missing. He had shattered his jaw and broken his left clavicle; he was getting what he deserved. The world was indeed wide. Who would have known that another powerful human like Choi Do Shik would exist! After colliding with each other, the place of impact felt paralyzing, as if his bones had been broken. His hands and feet, which had also been bruised, were throbbing. Should I use the resonance? He contemplated it for a moment, but Black Mamba decided to fight him simply with his body. This could be the only chance he could train in such a manner. When would be meet another incredible force as this one again? As Choi Do Shik had done in Siberia when his teachers staff had upgraded his skills, this guy would help his growth. If Ocelot knew what Black Mamba was thinking at that moment, he would have thrown up blood and fainted. Ocelot was slowly starting to lose consciousness. Like a chef that had been beaten up by his ingredients, he exploded in anger. Ahh! Ocelots rage made the hotel windows shudder. Who the hell are you? How could you throw a bomb into the hotel garden. Are you out of your mind? His angry voice echoed loudly. In a fight between whales, there was always a shrimp that had its back split in the middle. In this case, it was the hotel manager and deskman. With a swish, a glowing circling was drawn. The diamond caught the moonlight and lit up white, then passed swiftly across the two angry mens necks before falling to the ground. Their bodies fell immediately afterward. It seemed there was no way to avoid the inevitable for a human life destined for death. The two men whom DGSE had planted at the hotel disappeared in vain. It was the manager and the person who had called the assassin to target Black Mambas comrades. Chapter 94 - Episode 1: Far Far Away Lake Shari The hand that knocked away Ocelots wrist became another weapon as he swung it at his neck. Ocelot stepped back in a blur as his arm extended at the same time a fist charged into his chest. Thud! It sounded like a drum. The speeding hand hitting his chest made a heavy sound, as if it had hit a Kevlar bulletproof vest. After attacking Ocelots chest, which caused Ocelot to jump back, Black Mamba used his elbow to hit his chin and began to use his more advanced attacks. He continued by using all the best martial arts moves he knew. Ocelot wasnt an easy adversary, either. His upper and lower body both extended and shrank back flexibly as if he was flying back and forth in the wind. Black Mambas strongest moves were used for attacks, while the middle tier was used for defense. Both of their hands and feet made contact with each other. However, Ocelot wasnt having a difficult time combating against Black Mambas martial arts skills. Black Mamba was fighting against an opponent whose joints were more flexible than his. No, Ocelot was more like an octopus that didnt have any joints. Even at a close range, his feet would attack Black Mambas stomach, then his heel would come up from behind his back and hit Black Mamba in the head. Even if Black Mamba was able to just barely avoid him, he would have his chin kicked by the top of Ocelots foot. His elbows bent outward, and his hands hit his neck. His feet, which had just grazed past him, suddenly swung back and hit his head. Black Mamba was just able to avoid a critical, hit but the guys movements and power were becoming faster and stronger. Not only was Ocelots physique great, but his speed was just as impressive. His strange timing and angles of attacking were tiring Black Mamba out in trying to avoid them. Gong Ah! Ocelots chin suddenly stiffened. Finally, the strength of the energy force took full effect. When he placed his head backward, gravity took hold of him. His hands and feet felt like sandbags. This was the scary nature of a gravity attack. The first attack established the zero point, then the tenth and twentieth attacks were difficult to pass. Having attacked a thousand times, Ocelot stumbled with the weight of his heavy sandbag-like movements. Black Mamba had come right up close to him like a shadow and started to attack him with fervor. Ocelot was able to avoid half of them, but he took the brunt of the other half. The attacks to his chest and thighs damaged him severely. He contracted his muscles to protect himself from the energy penetrating his insides, but his muscles were ripping and collapsing. His breathing became heavy, and his speed died down. Wow! Emil, who had been watching with bated breath, suddenly let out an exclamation without meaning to. Mike hurriedly covered Emils mouth with his hand. It had been a violent collision between the two infinitely powerful entities. In the situation where Black Mamba was winning, if he became distracted, it could affect the flow of the battle. Mike was carefully observing the flow of the battle. Black Mambas mercenary status wasnt given to just anyone. The faces of the mercenaries, who had become their audience, turned red. Even Bell Man had become distracted by the battle so that Burimer was sadly left forgotten. Ocelot was furious. The bug wasnt fighting fair. He had wanted to fight head-on, one punch at a time as two gentlemen mutants. There was nothing he could do to defend himself when he was attacking him while Black Mamba was attached to him like a tick. His nose was bleeding, and his teeth were broken. A couple of his ribs were cracked, too. How could the invincible mutant end up like this? Die! screamed the wounded predator in frustration. The air shuddered, and the hotel building echoed with the sound. Oh! Black Mamba had predictive teleportation, his veins pulsing. Like a shadow, Ocelots hands and feet flew at him, and Black Mambas back bent backward to the point of almost breaking. It was an attack that ignored the principles of inertia. Pang A chilling rush of air passed him. The air seemed to shift under its power. Black Mamba broke out in a cold sweat. If he had bent forward to avoid it, his neck would have been sliced through. The object changed direction midair and sliced through the air once more. Ocelot had abandoned his pride and pulled out his whip, which Ocelot had named Gorgon. The whip was made with piano strings and wrapped with a whale muscle cable. It was coated with diamonds on the ends and had the highest elasticity, ductility, and lethality all in one. With Ocelots power, he could easily cut a person into two with one swing. Due to the whips unique ductility and elasticity, it was able to change directions quickly. The whip master could use it with ease, just a snap of his wrist to control the direction and power. Due to the whips unique flexibility, it was a weapon that was difficult to defend against. Black Mamba had never fought against a whip before. Ocelot pressed down his thumb and snapped his wrist up and down to swing the whip. Crack! With the force of inertia, the whip left a chilling sound in its wake. Black Mamba could have never dreamed that the whip that had cracked past him could suddenly swing back at him. Astonished, Black Mamba rolled to the ground. He fell hastily to the ground to avoid it like the character in a martial arts novel, although he looked more like a sub-character than the main. The whip grazed his back. His skin ripped, and red blood flowed from its trail. This was the power of the diamond coating. Even if it just grazed the skin, the skin could peel away. When Ocelot started to adamantly swing his whip, Black Mamba was unable to find a way around it. The whip, which changed directions and moved from side to side with ease, was unable to defend against and only caused him to be backed into a corner. He couldnt even hide for cover. Even if he were to hide behind a tree as thick as his thigh, he and the tree would both be cut in half. The immense power of the attacks left Black Mamba with cold sweat running down his face as he mustered all his agility to avoid getting hit. A whip was designed so that if the strength put into the handle was ten, the resulting attack would be 100 due to its centrifugal and centripetal force. The 18,000-square-foot space of the hotel garden was filled with trees. Once the two monsters were able to battle freely, the surroundings were left in chaos. The outdoor table and chairs shattered, the thick trees in the gardens were chopped down, and the statue of elephants and donkeys were all left broken. Anything within the vicinity of the whip was left in shambles. The tornado that was left in its path created a dust storm of leaves and water that clouded their vision. It wasnt the end of the whip but the mans wrist and fingers. Black Mamba soon realized the true shape of the whip. With the slight movements of his wrist and finger, Ocelot was able to freely control the whip. To read the opponents movements, it wasnt enough to just use his dynamic visual skill. He used his spatial perception skill to record Ocelots muscle movements directly into his brain. Black Mamba soon became used to the whips movements and swiftly started to move through them. He changed the focus of his attacks from defense to offense. Black Mamba saw an opportunity and headed to the side. Ocelot, not expecting such an attack, spun like a top. Swish The secretly launched second attack swept past Ocelots left eye and left a long gash on his face. Tsk! Black Mamba clicked his tongue. He had failed in his attack because he had miscalculated the guys movements. Based on his opponents fighting intuition, a similar attack wouldnt work again. Ah! Having spilled blood, Ocelots anger exploded. He was unable to deliver a critical hit and was only angering his opponent, so the sound of the flying whip became more powerful. The gandoura he was wearing was already gone. His exposed upper body was built. Oh no! Black Mambas pivoting foot sank into a hole dug by a rodent. Black Mamba had trained his balance by standing on a spinning log. Without delay, he immediately regained his balance, but Ocelots animalistic instincts didnt miss the small window of opportunity. Ocelots foot had fallen into the hole, so he had to move with his left foot for support. Ocelots whip flew toward the left side of Black Mambas waist, striving to take a big chunk out of his skin. Agh! Black Mamba, caught by the counterstrike, thrust out his left arm to block the whip. Swishing, the whip that was as thick as a finger wrapped two to three times around his left arm. Hahaha! Ill cut you in two. Ocelot laughed with a crooked smile on his face. He felt embarrassed for being beaten to a pulp by this hybrid. With his strange hand movements, the whip closed the distance between them. Crack! The sound of it sent chills up Black Mambas spine. This could be trouble. The shield he was wearing on this left hand was able to resist the power of the whip. Black Mamba thanked the unknown creator of the shield. Ocelot pulled at his whip. This incredible power was all due to its inertia. At that moment, Black Mamba flew up from the ground. Black Mamba didnt fight it with his power and instead embraced it. With the addition of his pushing up from the ground with the initial pull, he was able to close in fast. He was showing some vulnerability in exchange for breaking his opponents bones. When Black Mamba charged at him, it was Ocelots turn to be taken aback. He hadnt anticipated that the opponent would run at him. It was easy enough to say it, but putting it into action was impossible. A humans base survival instincts would reject it. Who in their right mind would risk their arm to slice the neck of their opponent? Ocelot had reigned supreme for decades. There had never been a time when he feared for his life. On the other hand, Black Mamba had experienced such a thing when he had battled against Choi Do Shik. There was a big difference in having fought against another strong opponent before. Ocelot shook off the whip from his wrist, but it was already too late. Both of Black Mambas feet flew straight at him. When he avoided the foot that aimed for his shoulder, the other would graze his head, and if he maneuvered to attack his head, the heel would come straight for his face. Black Mambas attacks ensued as such. The skill required him to hit a target, then bounce off that hit to aim at another target. It was like a fly landing and immediately flying. Black Mamba continued this pattern to land hits on Ocelot. From midair, his kicks rained down on him like hail. Deeply affected by the attack, the surroundings became filled with flying dirt and grass. Ocelot was flabbergasted at the second onslaught. Sixty years earlier, he had been the product of a Russian Siberia Kosac research project. He was furious at finding himself losing to this young punk. He was certain that his opponents physical build was weaker than his own, but the longer the fight continued, the more he seemed to be losing his advantage because of his Black Mambas strange movements. It was Asian martial arts that Ocelot had only ever heard about. There was a limit to defense. One slight moment of putting down his guard had left his shoulder exposed. Crash Ocelot collided with the garden landmark as he was flung back. Crack The six-foot-tall garden statue was uprooted and flung into the air. With immense strength and amazing speed, it was like two tigers with the strength of elephants were fighting. Black Mamba was about to stomp down on Ocelot, who had rolled onto the ground but flung backward as if someone had pulled him from behind. Crack! The whip whizzed past with an ear-splitting sound. Ocelot soon caught up to him to close the distance between them and kick him. Black Mamba was kicked in the chest while Black Mamba punched Ocelot straight in the face. Ack! Argh! Both screams were heard at the same time. Black Mambas ribs were broken at the same time that Ocelots nose collapsed. Ocelot, who had been close behind Black Mamba, stepped back as he wrapped his hands over his face. Ack, youre a stubborn one. Black Mamba swallowed his scream. A fracture had occurred in his third and fourth ribs. When Ocelots kick had come toward him, he had used all his strength to hit him in the chest, but he only grazed him in the end. In the same place where the whip had touched him, a piece of his flesh was missing. He had shattered his jaw and broken his left clavicle; he was getting what he deserved. The world was indeed wide. Who would have known that another powerful human like Choi Do Shik would exist! After colliding with each other, the place of impact felt paralyzing, as if his bones had been broken. His hands and feet, which had also been bruised, were throbbing. Should I use the resonance? He contemplated it for a moment, but Black Mamba decided to fight him simply with his body. This could be the only chance he could train in such a manner. When would be meet another incredible force as this one again? Just as Choi Do Shik had done in Siberia when his teachers staff had upgraded his skills, this guy would help his growth. If Ocelot had known what Black Mamba was thinking at that moment, he would have thrown up blood and fainted. Ocelot was slowly starting to lose consciousness. Like a chef that had been beaten up by his own ingredients, he exploded in a fit of anger. Ahh! Ocelots rage made the hotel windows shudder. Who the hell are you? How could you throw a bomb into the hotel garden. Are you out of your mind? His angry voice echoed loudly. In a fight between whales, there was always a shrimp that had its back split in the middle. In this case, it was the hotel manager and deskman. With a swish, a glowing circling was drawn. The diamond caught the moonlight and lit up white, then passed swiftly across the two angry mens necks before falling to the ground. Their bodies fell immediately afterward. It seemed there was no way to avoid the inevitable for a human life destined for death. The two men whom DGSE had planted at the hotel disappeared in vain. It was the manager and the person who had called the assassin to target Black Mambas comrades. Chapter 95 - Far Far Away Lake Shari The five mercenaries were lined up against the third-story balcony with their eyes opened wide. Jang Shin ran hurriedly into the shower. When they heard him throwing up, Mike frowned. Does that punk still think of blood as blood? What should he see it as? Thats red water, just water. Didnt you hear what Black Mamba said? Everything depends on how you perceive it, Mike replied to Emils question with a stern expression. Mike was progressively becoming more philosophical. Emil looked at Mike with a strange facial expression. General Mike had received a beating from Black Mamba several times. Emil remembered hearing about something called Stockholm syndrome. If he was uttering philosophical nonsense like everything depends on how you perceive it, something must have happened to his brain for him to become a fan of Black Mamba. What should we do if he ends up saying he wants to be Black Mambas partner? Emil became slightly worried. A man that could slice through a neck with a whip is even scarier than Black Mamba. Do you think Black Mamba can win? Jang Shin asked with a voice full of apprehension. He has to win. If Black Mamba loses, then our necks are on the line. As expected, that man was never one to answer a question in a straightforward manner. Emil was confused as to whether he should laugh or cry. Why isnt he using a gun? Look at his movementsin the time it takes to pull out a gun, hell be sliced five times by that whip. What about the kukri? He cant get past the whips radius. As Mike and Emil analyzed the fight, the two predators battle was reaching a climax. Swish With that sound, Black Mambas back bent backward 90 degrees. This wasnt a skill that was possible, even with regular training. A human muscle was unable to last long enough to hold it in that position. This was a skill plausible only for Black Mamba. The whip passed his chest and landed on the statue of the donkey. The head of the decorative piece fell to the ground. The moment it landed with a loud thud, Black Mamba charged forward explosively. The neck! Black Mamba had read the wrist movements and lowered his upper body as if he was falling forward. The whip cracked in midair then changed direction to fly toward the back of his head. Losing his advantage, Ocelot quickly raised his left hand to defend his face. Black Mamba used the back of his hand to slap away the whip aiming at the back of his head and pushed away Ocelots defense. His forehead crashed into the undefended area with full force. Crack! The sound of a nicely dried gourd splitting echoed. Agh! For the first time, a scream came out of Ocelots mouth. His face, which had already been attacked once before, was now a bloody mess. Ocelot followed closely behind Black Mamba, who was pulling back. His consecutive attack skill exploded. It wasnt ten consecutive hits, but ten wheels bombarding him at once. Ocelots upper body, which allowed him to use the full impact of his skill, was beaten to a pulp like ground garlic and shook like a sandbag. But even at that moment, Ocelot grabbed Black Mambas arm. If he was unable to stop his movements, then he decided to just break his back instead. Surprised by the sudden burst of brute strength, Black Mamba was pulled in like a piece of straw. Ocelot had made a mistake. Black Mamba, who had allowed himself to be pulled in, limp, shoved his fist into him and pulled his arm back. He threw Ocelot around like a Judo athlete. Ack! Ocelot was flown into the air by Black Mambas strength. Crash The flying body landed on the second story balcony, smashing it, and fell inside. Following it was an agonizing scream. Inside the hotel, the light of two life forms died out. Youre obsessed with blood. A fight was only a fight between those who could fight. That was the difference between humans and wild beasts. Uncontrolled strength was a weaponand an evil one. It wasnt human. Ocelot was not a worthy being in Black Mambas eyes. Its existence in the world was but a menace. Black Mamba pulled out his kukri. Someone who wasnt useful to the world had to be erased. Bam! Ocelot crashed through the wall and popped out. His gold hair fluttered around in the air. His two eyes shot red lasers toward Black Mamba. Huh, have the beasts instincts exploded out of you? That beastly instinct is all you have that warrants you commenting on the worthiness of civilians, taunted Black Mamba. Die, hybrid! Ocelot sped to close the 50 feet between them. The whip flew through the air with immense ferocity. Like a striking bolt of lightning, the whip raged through the 50 feet. The whip wrapped around a tree and pulled it out of the ground before it crashed and shattered the lamppost, table, and chairs. The debris from the mess blocked his sight. Black Mamba initiated his spatial awareness and was able to read Ocelots movements one step faster than a human. Black Mambas body swayed, able to avoid the attacks with ease. They were only 15 feet apart, but he was always half a step faster so that his shadow couldnt be caught. Black Mamba grabbed the whip, which was only possible because he had been able to read his opponents movements with confidence. Ah! Black Mamba gasped. The handle had a launcher. Bang! With that sound, the whip that had flown away from him flew back like a boomerang. Ocelot followed the whip and went after Black Mamba, who had lost his advantageous position. In his hand was a shining sword. The explosion of the whip had revealed the hidden sword within it. Ha, is this the martial art that you blabbed about? At the valley in Er Ekdim, Rosque had already beaten Black Mamba. If he was fooled again, he would have been an idiot. He had already prepared the next move when the whip had flown out of Ocelots hand. Clang The powerful collision made the hotels windows shake. Ocelots sword was just as powerful, able to resist the immense strength of the kukri. Black Mamba was no match for Ocelots strength. His arm bent, and he staggered as the sword continued to swing at him. The close-contact battle caused Black Mamba to be pushed back. Ocelot was much more equipped in strength and quick movements. Each of Ocelots hand and foot movements were deadly. If Black Mamba had been forced to name it, Ocelot was a beast. Clang, clang, clang Each time Black Mamba blocked an attack, the force of it shook his bones. While he was being pushed back, he threw up blood. His organs had been shaken up. What what is happening? Emil asked the captain. It looked as though Black Mamba, who had been winning against the monster, was now on the losing side. The instantaneous change in the attacks between the two monsters was extremely difficult to follow with his eyes. How the hell would I know? Captain, arent you a master in Krav Maga? Whoa, you fool, whats the point of Krav Maga in front of those monsters? My eyes cant even follow their movements. Is Black Mamba losing? He looks to be losing at the moment, but its so fast that I cant really tell. Hey, quiet! After a collision between the two predators, they both took a step back and created distance between themselves. The leaves and dust that had been flown into the air, blocking the moonlight, slowly settled back on the ground. What am I doing right now? Black Mamba was jolted back to his senses. This was the enemys territory. He had a comrade that was at deaths door; he didnt have time to casually continue fighting for the sake of training his physique. Was I always this selfish of a person?! Guilt stabbed at his heart and caused him to abandon his greed. Flowing water doesnt rot, and a rolling stone doesnt grow moss. He had thought that this saying meant that he always had to continue moving forward. The goal to create the perfect physique rotted the mind! He was finally able to understand the power of change through ones mind. The characters of the idiom, Jung Hae, Don Oh, Jung, or Samadhi, meant to become accustomed to and Hae, or Pan, meant an open heart. Once open, it continued to flow, and once it continued to flow, it continued to grow. It was a moment of epiphany for him. A pillar rose up in his consciousness. Swoosh Black Mambas surroundings started to move in front of him, and his energy changed to that of a typhoon. Is the hybrid tired? Ocelot, thinking he had found an opportunity, pushed forward like an eagle targeting a rabbit. You fool. Black Mamba concentrated all his energy once he had come to his epiphany. He shot the energy beam right into Ocelots ear. Ack! Ocelots face contorted like that of an evil spirit. Something pounded his head like a hammer. Ocelot, with his eardrum in immense pain, fell into disarray. It was just a small opening of time, but it was enough. With a swishing sound, Black Mambas kukri split the air like lightning. Ack! An agonizing scream erupted. Hybrid, you just wait. Ocelot grabbed at his chest and jumped over the wall of the hotel. Damn, it was a bit shallow, Black Mamba lamented. As expected, Ocelots physique was incredible. In a situation where it should have split his heart, it was only pushed inward. It was a reaction that didnt require any action from the brain. All he had been able to do was split his left lung. A normal person would have died whether their heart or lungs were hit, but for a man with this physique, it hadnt been a critical hit. Black Mamba was lost in a moment of thought. Should I chase after him or not? He had deja vu and remembered Choi Do Shik, who ran away with his neck stabbed and half his arm falling off. That night had also been full of stars like that night. If Ocelot had been Choi Do Shik, he would have attacked back even after his chest was split. Black Mamba turned away after glaring at Ocelots back. He was strong yet stupid. Black Mamba, just wait. I will chew you up. Ocelots last words trailed out from behind him. He was a ghost-like humanno, entity. He had appeared out of nowhere and disappeared without a trace after causing havoc all around him. Miserable punk, next time Ill skin you and slice you up into sashimi. Black Mamba felt like he had been scammed after meeting a weird punk. His body was a mess. All his bones were dislocated, and his arm and right jaw bone were fractured. Several ribs were also broken. Both his upper and lower body were a bloody mess. Two chunks of skin were missing due to the whip, and his muscles were damaged here and there. Only after being hit by a speeding truck multiple times would one end up in such a state. Oh, I feel like Im going to die. Black Mamba dropped the blood-stained kukri and plopped on the ground. He wanted to chase after Ocelot, but his body wasnt listening to him. Every joint seemed to be creaking. Why had he given up on chasing him? It was because he knew that even if he chased after Ocelot, he couldnt guarantee that he would win. This was the enemys home ground, so gaining back his physical condition was the first priority. He may have let him go because he was the only man in the world that was similar to him. What a relief! This was the first time he had fought with everything he had since he wore a soldiers uniform. Every shred of his cockiness melted away and made way for relief. Ocelot was a man with an impossible physique. On the other hand, he was easily excitable, and his thinking was slow. His mentality couldnt keep up with his physical power. Using his energy force and spatial awareness, he wasnt a difficult opponent to defeat. All his strength seeped out of him as he flopped to the floor. F*ck, there sure are a lot of stars. Black Mamba! His comrades ran toward him. What happened to him? asked the impatient Mike. My attack was a bit shallow. I broke three of his ribs and split his left lung, so his heart was probably affected, too. Hes probably dead then. Black Mamba shook his head. Thats nonsense. Hes not one to die that easily. After a couple of months of pain, hell recover. No way! Is he some black cat with nine lives or something? Mike jumped in a fury. The captain looked around the chaos around him and muttered to himself, His chest was split open, but he wont die? This place is just full of monsters. I definitely need to retire. The 5,200-square-foot area looked like it had been decimated by a bulldozer with not a single place left undisturbed. The grand trees had been cut and uprooted and ground into sawdust. Rocks were broken, while human-made structures were also in shambles. Even the stonework was nothing but rubble. Two decapitated bodies half-buried in the dirt completed the setting. Is this the aftermath of a battle between two people? muttered the captain with an expression of disbelief. Their mission to save the Raccoon had become stranger and stranger as time went on. Now, even an unimaginable monster had come after them to wipe them out. Whoa, we should give up our call name as the rescue team. The captain sighed with a sense of defeat. Out of the way! Bell Man pushed Mike out of the way as he ran toward Black Mamba holding a stretcher. Whew, he got sliced real good. Is this pastry or a salmon fillet? Bell Man let out a long sigh. Chapter 96 - Far Far Away Lake Shari The captain, Mike, Jang Shin, and Emils faces all flushed white with fear. The scar left by the whip was gruesome, as the diamond coating on the whip had acted like a saw. He had avoided getting hit by a direct shot, and each hit had only just grazed past him, yet his skin was still torn open like a wide-open mouth. His skin looked like it had been chewed up and spit out by a pig. Black Mamba looked to be pretty calm about it, but his comrades faces had become immensely pale. Bell Mans comment of whether he was pastry or a salmon fillet, both of which involved precise knife cuts before cooking, made sense. Zeolite powder, stat! Jang Shin hurriedly reached into the first aid kit and pulled out a pack that was as wide as two fingers and handed it to Bell Man. Zeolite powder was a blood coagulant. It caused the blood to seep into the veins quicker and released clotting elements. By speeding up blood clotting, it made it that much faster to stop the bleeding. Bell Mans hands moved rapidly. He opened the zeolite powder packet while readying the chitosan bandages, which were also used to quell bleeding. There were thirty-six places that Black Mamba had been injured. Looking at his state, he was in danger of going into shock. According to Bell Mans judgement, if he didnt stop the bleeding within five minutes, Black Mamba could die from blood loss. Bell Man was blotting the infected wound with alcohol when he froze. What is this? His eyes grew wide. It looked devastating on the outside, but the bleeding had already stopped. The shallow cuts were no longer bleeding, and the deep wounds were clotting quickly. Even with the zeolite powder and chitosan bandages, stopping the bleeding this fast was usually impossible. It was as if his wounds had been clamped shut the moment he turned around. Blood coagulation happened when fibrinogen was changed to fibrin. Although it depended on varying conditions, it usually took about ten to twenty minutes for the blood to start clotting. As time passed, bleeding persisted, even if smaller veins were damaged. In this case, several arteries had been cut. This was incredible. He was a human that logic surpassed. Bell Man let go of his suspicions. Trying to understand something impossible only made his head hurt. When dealing with Black Mamba, it was hard to decipher what was normal and what wasnt. He even had to suppress his greed in wanting to analyze Black Mambas peculiar blood. If the bleeding has already stopped, there was no reason to apply emergency clotting protocol. He had already put the chitosan bandages back in the first aid pack and reserved them for later use. The chitosan bandages are built like sponges. When they were wet with blood, the chitosan protein reacted with it and patched the broken veins. If all critical patients were like this guy, Id be out of a job. All I have to do is clean and stitch! Hahaha. Bell Man gathered the disinfectant and first aid kit and let out a dispirited laugh. Bell Man, remove your hands for a moment. Black Mamba, who had been lying down, sat up. His fractured jawbone and clavicle werent too big of a deal, but the real problem was his ribs. The ribs function was to protect important organs such as the heart, liver, and lungs. If more than two ribs were broken, it caused severe complications, including possibly causing strain on the organs, nerves, and blood flow. The lungs were especially prone to damage. If the lungs were damaged, it became a critical situation. The amount of oxygen intake decreased and made the healing of other wounds a slower process. The slower healing caused more critical results to follow. When Black Mamba activated his resonance, he was able to register his blood circulation and internal organs. However, he couldnt fix his bones. He had to manually check those. He splayed his fingers wide and placed them on his left chest. He inhaled deeply and touched each rib as if he was playing the piano. When he was in junior high, he had been beaten to a pulp once. He had learned this checking skill back then. The second and fourth had a fracture, and the third was broken. The broken third rib was putting pressure on his lung. He gritted his teeth, breathed in deeply, and put both his hands on his left chest. Ah! He decompressed his diaphragm and pushed upwards. His right thumb and index finger pushed deep into his skin, almost as if it would penetrate it. He grabbed his pushed in rib and slowly pulled it outward. Black Mambas eyes popped, and sweat fell from his forehead. Bell Mans eyes became huge, and he could barely breathe. A human being able to repair a broken rib himself was a medical miracle. Crack This was the sound of his ribs being shoved back into place. His comrades shuddered. Bell Man wiped his sweaty hands on a towel. Ah! Bell Man sighed in relief after finishing the procedure on Black Mamba. The other mercenaries, who had also been holding their breath, all breathed sighs of relief. Thats amazing. Frances army is a mess, but on the medical side, its the best in the world. You will be known as the best doctor ever. When we return, well have to cancel your medical insurance. Black Mambas expression looked much more comfortable as he answered casually, That sounds great. Every time I see the deduction on my paycheck, it makes my heart ache. What are you going to do about the lung damage? We dont have the supplies or the medication to treat it. You can let it naturally heal itself, but the pain will be intense. No problem. Prepare some food for me before I gobble up Bell Man. Jang Shin immediately put down his back pack. He threw two packs of rations to Black Mamba. Mike intercepted them and opened them for him so he could eat. This wont cut it, will it? The more, the better. Jang Shin knew how much Black Mamba ate after a raging battle. Jang Shin started to pull out a bunch of things from his backpack. Dried lizards, a pit viper, rattlesnakes, grasshoppers, large spiders, a chameleon, a scorpion All the dried foods he possessed made an appearance. Jang Shin always seemed to have a lot of food with him. Mike and Emil stared at Jang Shin with their mouths hanging open. Black Mamba, were out of morphine. When have you ever used it? Do as you usually do. Ha, youre no fun. Bell Man smiled and injected the morphine. Emil and Jang Shin whispered to each other. What, how could he joke like that! Hes trying his best. Just laugh. Bell Man s expression was distraught. Bell Man, how bad is the injury? The captain was seriously anxious. Even the smallest injury to Black Mamba was detrimental to the team. Captain, if it was you, youd have already died twice. Bell Mans reply was full of emotion. The road to Paya had cost the Legion Etranger team a lot without reaping any rewards, due in part to the captains stubbornness. Haha! The captain laughed bitterly. There was nothing left to say. Bell Man, feeling a bit sorry, reported properly, Five broken bones, wounds in thirty-six places. I dont have enough thread to stitch them all up, yet theres nothing much we can do. Hes not in shock, I dont have to stop the bleeding, the wounds arent infected, and his muscles have returned back to their original places. All I have to do is sterilize and sew him up So, whats the verdict? yelled the captain at Bell Man as he repeated the same thing over and over again. His injuries are serious, but it doesnt seem to be that big of a problem. If you think of it as serious, then it is, and if you dont think of it as much of a problem, then it isnt. Which is it? Is it serious or is it not a problem? Theres no problem since its Black Mamba. Look how easy that was. Whyd you make it sound so complicated? the captain muttered to himself. Bell Man glanced over at the captain, who seemed to be reacting more angrily than usual. It seemed like he had switched souls with Mike. Are there no internal problems? Of course there are. He has five broken bones; how could he not have internal problems? Bell Man didnt realize the fact that he was acting crabby. Nigimi joto, joto, joto joto joto! The captain repeated joto several times while pulling at his hair. Whats wrong with him today? Is he on his period or something? Bell Man muttered as he stitched up the wounds. Black Mamba closed his eyes and observed his vitals. Small pieces of glittering specks were floating around in his blood. They stuck to his veins or were swept away through his circulation. Even without concentrating, he was able to automatically call up his resonance. Every time he did so, the glittering specks moved around much more rapidly. New cells were born, and a large quantity of oxygen was delivered. His circulation became two, three, then four times faster. The tensile strength of his veins increased to account for the increase in pressure, so the places where the bleeding had stopped werent clotted with scabs. His natural ability to heal had become faster. The glittering specks attached to the places that were broken. The broken bones started to repair and stick themselves back together. Black Mamba stood up from his seat. I should thank that Ocelot. The battle with Ocelot had caused him to upgrade his mental stamina. His internal movements had been amplified, and his regeneration ability had grown faster. His teachers words that only a fight against a greater force would make him stronger had been correct. What happened to Sergeant Burimer? Bell Man shook his head. He wont be able to recover. Damn, lets go! Jang Shin tried to help the staggering Black Mamba, but he waved him away. His outer wounds were no big deal, as they were already quickly healing. The problem was his internal wounds. He couldnt quickly calm his chaotic heart. In room 318, Burimers face was as white as a sheet. Each of the mercenaries faces were dark. Black Mamba pushed up Burimers eyelids. His eyes werent focused, his pupils dilated. Black Mamba frowned. Truthfully, there was nothing to see. Like a flat tire, his life was slowly seeping out and away. When the bullet had passed cleanly through his stomach and out his back, everyone had hailed it a miracle, but that elation hadnt lasted past 20 minutes. One light kick from Ocelot had created this destructive situation. Burimer had given up his life to save the captain. No human could have withstood the strength and speed equal to those of Black Mamba. Through the thickly wrapped bandages, blood seeped out. Bell Man shook his head. The grazed kick had ripped apart his stomach as if it had been a knife. What a scary monster. His small and large intestines are ripped. Even if we were to evacuate him to a hospital, it would be impossible to treat him. Ripping open a stomach with one kick. Who would believe this?! Damn, what is the identity of that monster? The captain pulled at his hair. Will he be able to regain consciousness? He has reached his limit. We have to hear his last words, Black Mamba said in a stern tone. What point would it be to live a few more hours in pain? Bell Man injected the remaining two epinephrine shots into his thigh. Black Mamba! It was a delicate and weak call. Im here, fisherman. Burimer tried with difficulty to focus his dimming gaze. What happened to the monster? Black Mamba got rid of him. Of course he did! At Mikes reply, Burimer smiled weakly. Black Mamba, Im going to have to cancel that boat ride on Lake Shari I promised you. Watching the sunset from that view would have been very nice. Burimers voice was growing quieter. A majority of the sound was that of air escaping. You shouldnt speak. As Jang Shin interrupted, Mu Ssang stopped him. Leave him be. It was his last words. Delaying death for a few more minutes wouldnt change anything. What is this?! Dying in a hotel room, how embarrassing. Burimer was spitting up blood. As the air pockets shriveled, they were forcing out blood. Meeting a monster like that, I can now understand how those Frolinat punks felt. Black Mamba, make sure to rescue our comrades. Punish the jerks. And my familyyy. Im Black Mamba. Dont worry about Silvie, Leah, and Julie. Thank you. Black Mamba, you are faithful and just. I enjoyed the time I spent with you. Black Mamba, dont bury me in this land. You wont be able to take my coffin and bulldoze over Frolinat, will you? Cremate me and bury me at home. Damn, there are no fish in the desert. I miss the gefalaves, a species of fish similar to sea bream that can be caught in the oceans of Calbi. I was going to capture the monster at Lake Congo with you If you sit on the back of the Queens Dock Ferry at Whales Swansi Bay, youll see the red wood building. Julie had asked to change it to blue Chapter 97 - Far Far Away Lake Shari Without finishing the end of his sentence, the light in Burimers eyes went out. Maybe because he had died in his comrades arms, Burimer closed his eyes comfortably. Bell Man lifted his eyelids and checked his pupils, then shook his head. Hes dead. Our sergeant is dead. Wahhh! Jang Shin hugged Burimer and cried. Even the captain looked broken up. A single tear fell from Black Mambas eye. The hot tear rolled onto Burimers pale cheek. Even with his last breath, he was a man who worried about his family and comrades, which made their hearts ache. Mu Ssang, your mother, mother, take care of your mother. His father too had asked him to take care of his frail wife with his last breath. The image matched Burimers death. Farewell. You were a great comrade and friend. This was an absurd end for Sergeant Burimer, who had two daughters and was a fan of fishing. His legendary fishing stories had now come to an end. They would no longer be able to hear of his special skill, shooting a needle into an impossibly small space, anymore. Yes. Whatever words one used to describe it, life was short. The thought that there was life after death was ridiculous. The captains eyes trembled as he watched Burimers corpse being laid down. Burimer wasnt just any soldier; he was his right-hand man and the one who had led the team, having been the oldest among them. Burimer had two daughters, five-year-old Silvie and seven-year-old Leah, who were at their most adorable ages. His daughters had lost a father, and his wife had lost a husband. And he had lost his friend and a competent comrade. Even if death was normal for a mercenary, he was still a father, a husband, and a friend. He wasnt the type of person who deserved to die this way. Burimers death was the same as if the captain had killed him himself. Compared to men like Black Mamba and Ocelot, humans seemed so weak. Who could have imagined that a light kick from an insane assassin could take out the light of life from someone?! Burimers death was directly related to the captains missed judgement call. It was the result of his stubbornness to regain communication even when Black Mamba had hit him to make him come to his senses. He had surpassed sadness and was now furious. There was nowhere to release his emotions. He felt that his skills as a captain were pitiful. An emotion he couldnt exactly describe filled his chest and hit him squarely in the heart. On his previously dry cheeks, a trail of tears rolled down. The composure he had tried so hard to keep was swiftly collapsing. Black Mambas face turned quickly around. The captain was crying while banging his head against the wall. Captain, dont show us this pathetic side of you. If the leader is shaken, the team is shaken as well. Black Mamba, its all my fault. Because of my stubbornness, Chartres died, then Morris, Miguel, and now, Burimer. I dont deserve to be a leader. So? Im giving up my position to you. Black Mamba suddenly became extremely annoyed. The worth of a leader was recognized in times of hardship. Humans tended to give up in defeat when they were placed in a difficult situation. He could understand their feeling of remorse and pressure, but it was nothing short of pathetic. Captain, stop saying gibberish. Im a private. If a group of mercenaries is led by a private, even donkeys will laugh at us. Before youre a private, youre a call name agent. You are a high-ranking special force agent. Black Mamba didnt answer and instead went to the window. With a creaking sound, a metal pipe holding up the curtain was pulled off with ease. Its too long. Black Mamba folded the 13-foot-long metal rod in half then folded it in half again afterwards. The metal rod broke into four clean pieces. Its still too long. He folded the metal rod in half, then folded it again. He bent an inch-thick metal pipe as if he was folding paper. Mikes face was ashen as he was reminded of an unsavory memory. The captains face also looked less than comfortable. He frowned vigorously at the piece of pipe he held in his hand. Its uncomfortable because there are so many. He removed one of the metal pieces and threw it at the wall. Clang The captain jumped at the raucous sound, the image of Mike filling his head. Just thinking about becoming a captain who was beaten by a lower ranking official gave him the chills. Three is still too many. Clang Two is still uncomfortable. I dont think Ill get the full effect from them. Clang Good! The last remaining two-foot-long curtain rod spun in his hand and made a menacing sound as it whooshed through the air. Stop, Im sorry. The captain dropped his head. Black Mamba took turns glaring at his comrades. Are you going to follow the commands of someone with one year of experience or one with 20 years of experience? The three mercenaries played along and teased together. Of course you should follow a more experienced leaders commands. Of course, the soldiers must fight according to rank. The lieutenant must take care of the little things. Haha! I dont like Psychology, the mind. Orthopedics, hands and feet, is much more my style. Black Mamba threw the curtain rod he was holding at the wall. Thud! The pipe traveled deep into the concrete and the end vibrated with the movement. The mercenaries who were watching shuddered along with it. Black Mamba, Im sorry. I wasnt thinking about how to approach the situation and was only worried about shifting away the responsibility. I was short-sighted. The captain was sincerely sorry. He had made the wrong decisions, and Black Mamba had been the one to fix them all. How many times had he been indebted to him for saving his life? Debt, whatever form it took, always made the receiver feel burdened and handicapped, and debt from saving a life was even more serious. If you know, then thats enough. I brought this upon you as well. Black Mamba blamed himself, too. After he had cleaned up the enemy forces, he had let down his guard. He had thought he had cleared the danger and grown too cocky. And so, he again lost a comrade, but regretting it now wouldnt change the past. Captain, do you live to be happy? Dont all people want to be happy? No, to live on, you need happiness. Happiness is a necessary tool with which to survive. Oh, another complicated philosophy? complained Emil. Black Mamba turned toward Emil. Emil, you look for women every weekend. If sex was painful, would you still want to be on top of women? Of course not. Thats exactly it. Excitement and happiness exist to aid in survival and reproduction. We dont live to feel happiness; you feel happiness to live. If you feel sad, do you die? No. Happiness and sadness are like ice cream. As time passes, they both melt and disappear. You may be sad and miserable, but we must live and move on. Okay, lets move on. The blue bird isnt something meant to find but something that finds you. Wow, Black Mamba, youre so good at talking. Alluh, shop shop! Mike and Bell Man cheered. The captain was in awe. Hes a philosophical beast with loyalty to boot. Hes so cool. Hes the one who should be a leader, but he was embarrassed to call himself a captain. I have to do what I have to do. Jang Shin, collect the weapons from the dead. Mike, take records of their faces. Bell Man, treat Black Mambas wounds properly. Emil, take care of Burimer. The captain spat out command after command. He had faltered for a moment, but being a leader wasnt something anyone could do. Burimer died in a way that suited him. Lets make sure to take care of his family for him, Black Mamba mumbled to himself. In war, the most significant death was one given to save a comrade. His family would be extremely sad, but the mercenaries made peace with it. If they were going to die anyways, it was better to die a worthy death. The faces of the soldiers looking down at Burimers face were dark. Killed by the kick of an assassin. If he had died in the field during a battle, they wouldnt have felt as miserable. Six corpses lay side by side on the floor of room 318, two Arabs and four Whites. There wasnt a single identification card in any of their belongings to figure out who they were. Only their corpses and Berettas were left. Captain, do you have any suspects you have in mind regarding who sent the assassin? At the very least, I know it cant be the poor Frolinat punks. The captains mouth felt bitter as he answered Emils question. They seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into a trap. DGSE might have thought of their team as a threat and had a high possibility of not being happy with their return. He kept imagining the worst. Captain, what do you think that monster was? Jang Shin shivered. How could I know? He introduced himself as Ocelot. Of course, that has to be a nickname. He said he received a request from a client. A client? The mercenaries all made the same sound at the same time. They hadnt heard the details of Black Mambas conversation with Ocelot. Hm! The captains expression grew darker. Were they important enough to have a skilled assassin like that come after them? Was he, perhaps, after Black Mamba? If that was the case, then it was definitely from the DGSE headquarters. They were the only ones who knew enough about Black Mambas skills. If they were to return, they would be the ones in an uncomfortable situation. If they had taken account of Black Mambas skill and sent Ocelot, then this would all make sense. Captain! Look at this, Black Mamba interrupted the captains thoughts. Five Macarov guns were dropped onto the sofa. What is this now? The captains eyes grew wide. There was no way he hadnt heard of Macarov. He was just asking how Black Mamba had come upon them. I followed the guy we were interrogating in the lobby and took out five of them. Huh! The captain and his comrades all gasped reflexively. Was he saying that the assassins came in while everyone was asleep, and he had taken care of them?! This was unbelievable. What do you think? Black Mamba pulled out the documents he had collected. I dont know. Two Black people, one North Korean, and two Whites. I found this at the enemys hiding place. Oh! The captain spat out a gasp. Every dog and cow are after us, muttered Mike. Is this a random number table? It probably belongs to the KGB or Libyas army. It wasnt even surprising. Chads sponsor was Brezhnev, secretary to Gaddafi. Bell Man, take good care of them. When we return, those may end up being the most expensive things we own. If evidence was revealed that the Soviets were part of the Chad resistance, the DGSE would cheer. Everyone, listen up well. You will all erase the memory of Black Mamba and Ocelots fight. Understand? Yes, sir! Our return to safety is in Black Mambas hands. As you can all see, Black Mamba is special. I do not wish for our friend and guardian angel to end up like a monkey in a zoo. Dont worry, hes one who always wanted a normal life. We arent stupid enough to put someone whos shared blood with us in a difficult situation, Emil responded. Of course. Black Mamba is our friend before hes our comrade, Mike commented after hearing Emils words. Everyone nodded their heads. The previous communication was wrong. Before they come for us, lets get out of here. When Emil had finished wrapping Burimers body in a sheet and was ready to start moving out, Ombuti came in. Traitor! Mike pulled out his Glock. After Ombuti had disappeared, the assassins started trailing them. Ombuti was the most likely suspect. Forget it. Ombuti is a comrade, Black Mamba yelled out. Alright. At Black Mambas word, Mike put his suspicions to rest. If Black Mamba said he wasnt, then he wasnt. He was the leader of the mercenaries thoughts. Also, there was no reason for Ombuti, who worshiped Black Mamba, to betray them. Ombuti was able to register the situation immediately. I am not a traitor. Thats right. Ombuti is our friend. Wakil! At Black Mambas words, Ombutis eyes filled with tears. He felt rewarded for having run around trying to avoid being detected by Frolinat. Wakil, were you hurt? Jang Shin and Emil had put on clothes they found around the hotel, but Black Mamba looked like a mess. Dont worry about it. Lets talk later. Ombuti closed his mouth. If his master said so, then thats what he had to do. Jang Shin whispered to Ombuti, Hes not in a good mood. Burimer died. Sergeant died? Really? Ombuti jumped in surprise. Thats not all. Another person like Black Mamba appeared. A person with Wakils skills? Dont tease me. Ombuti couldnt believe a word of it. Go out to the garden. It will be a sight to see. The guy who Black Mamba attacked got away. He escaped Wakils hands? Chapter 98 - Far Far Away Lake Shari Ombuti wasnt as surprised that a skilled fighter had shown up as he was that said fighter had only sustained injuries and escaped. If he had escaped the hands of Wakil, then he had definitely not been human. Ombuti, did you find anything? the captain said, cutting off Jang Shin. Captain, we have to leave quickly. If it becomes known that the hitman failed, then theyll all come rushing over here. The captains heart felt heavy. Ombuti thought that these men were the FROLINAT special forces, but he was sure that they werent. He secretly hoped that it was the FROLINAT special forces instead of what he suspected. I dont think the FROLINAT army would come after us. Either way, lets get out of here. The mercenaries jumped out consecutively from room 318s balcony window. For the special task team, jumping out of a third-story window was no obstacle. Black Mamba jumped out last, carrying Burimer who was wrapped up in a sheet. None of them worried that they hadnt checked out of the hotel properly. When they had been trekking through Sahel, the Legion Etranger team hadnt been invisible but instead were the prey of an evil predator. There was no one who would know whether they checked out or not anyway. The manager, who was the sleeper agent, and the receptionist had their necks removed by Ocelot. The other two lobby workers were also killed by Ocelot. The Le Merien Hotel, which was the only hotel in Paya, had become a ghost house within a day. The Legion Etranger team exited the city without a sound. Black Mamba and Ocelots battle had completely obliterated the whole hotel. The surroundings looked like the warzone of a battle that had used heavy weaponry. Due to civil war, the civilians didnt think much about the happenings outside, but the amount of noise that had continuously echoed couldnt be easily ignored. Paya was FROLINATs home ground. The Legion Etranger team had been cut to half, plus Black Mamba was heavily injured. If FROLINAT decided to target them, they would easily be taken over. Two hours later, their team had escaped Paya and found a place to hide upon arriving at Erg Maldan. The mercenaries were preparing to leave by pulling out the pickups that had been buried in the sand. Once again, they were sweating buckets. While Jang Shin was getting ready to cremate Burimer, Ombuti slowly disappeared. Ombuti, who had disappeared for a few moments, returned with a humongous bone propped on top of his shoulder. It was seven feet long and extremely large. Flabbergasted, they all stared at Ombuti with surprised eyes. These mysterious bones sometimes appear here. Theyre either the bones of a dinosaur or some large animal. I brought it because we dont have a headstone for Burimer. Jang Shin and Emil, who were sweating as they collected firewood for the cremation, looked at him while frowning. What are you talking about. A headstone? We cant cremate him. Sergeant Burimer was a Muslim. If you cremate a Muslim, then they cannot find their way back to their body and will forever have to wander through purgatory. Since Ombuti had never been one to express his opinion, it was an unexpected turn of events. The surprised looks all turned to Black Mamba. They all seemed to say, hes your servant, so you deal with him. Ombuti, Burimer requested that we cremate him as his last wish. I would like to fulfill his last dying wish. We cant. Wakil! The mercenaries eyes all grew large. What in the world?! Ombuti actually told Black Mamba he couldnt do something! Jang Shin exclaimed in surprise. Wakil, Im not going against your wishes. Burimer was a servant of Allah. If we cremate him, then he wont have a body to return to and will forever be unable to escape hell. Black Mamba was a Buddhist, but he knew of other religions that spoke of heaven and hell and how deeply ingrained it was to their culture and identity. Heaven and hell were within ones heart. With a body and soul, what world was impossible for humans to make up?! It was Burimers last wish. He probably didnt want to put his comrades in a difficult situation, so he said that. We cant cremate him. We can bury him like the other comrades, then come back later to bring him home. Black Mamba stared at the captain. Burimer left his last wish to Black Mamba. The choice is up to you. Regarding religion, simple things could become complicated and difficult. The captains voice was ringing loudly in his head already. He didnt want anything else intruding into his thoughts on top of this. Black Mamba saw Ombutis desperate look and nodded his head. What you say is right. Im not a Muslim, but your desperation has made me change my mind. Lets bury Burimer for now. Black Mamba accepted Ombuti into his heart. He saw the humanity in him as he desperately hoped to preserve Burimers afterlife, although Ombuti had no real connection with Burimer. Their interactions had been those of a mercenary and an usher for the last month. It was hard to find any human that would care so much for a mere acquaintance. Burimer was buried in an unknown place on the north side of Djourab Erg. It was a place that had neither rocks nor trees to use as a headstone. The large unidentified bone was placed in front of his grave as a headstone, more like a marker to come back to later. The bone that Ombuti brought was no different than the bone of any animal. He had secretly hoped it was from some ancient animal but was disappointed to find it wasnt. The captain didnt say a word until the entire burial ceremony was complete, his face as rigid as stone. On account of his stubbornness and stupidity, Burimer was dead and Black Mamba was badly hurt. His guilt was killing him from inside. As a soldier and an officer of Legion Etranger, his pride was shaken. A cowardly and incompetent leader had caused them to bury many more precious lives. He was embarrassed to face his men after dragging them to Paya even after Black Mamba had beaten him to a pulp to persuade him otherwise. Damn, maybe it really is time for me to retire. Black Mamba thought he had only said this for laughs, but the captain was seriously contemplating retirement at that moment. Captain, what happened to the communication with headquarters? asked Bell Man. Negative, Emil answered instead. The shoulders of all the mercenaries drooped. Their last hope at being rescued by helicopter had disappeared, and they had lost Burimer without reaping any benefits. In their hearts, they were starting to favor Black Mamba as their leader instead of the captain. Ombuti grabbed the wheel and hesitated before spitting out what was on his mind. Captain, dont misunderstand. Hear me out. Ombuti, youre one of our team members. As a team member, youre allowed to say whatever you think. Thanks. As you know, Captain, because of Wakil, we were able to resist being wiped out by the enemy. Im sure you also thought that this operation was strange, Captain. Go on. Through my Ummah friends, I was able to gather some information. They say that Makumbo was already rescued by another team and has arrived at NDjamena. Hm! The captain sighed deeply. To put it simply, we were a throwaway card meant to cause havoc. I told Wakil about it, but all he did was recite some strange philosophical phrases and smile. Our team is being used to stall for time. The operation has already ended, and we were thrown away. The captain asked in a straightforward manner, Do you have any evidence? My friend is the driver for Chairman Tombye. Tombyes cook is also part of Ummah. I even have a friend whos a DGSE sleeper. FROLINATs situation isnt great right now, either. Makumbo fooled them with fake intel and decided to work with Habre instead. FROLINAT had planned to stall for time by using Makumbo, but because of us, their plans were messed up. The harder we hit them with the hammer, the worse a nail protruding outward hurts our own fingers. DGSE and the government army are probably ecstatic right now. An ordinary straight received an ace of spades and turned their hand into a royal straight flush. Of course, the ace of spades is Wakil. Hm, so thats what has been happening! The captain let out a deep sigh. He had already suspected this. If FROLINAT was already aware of the situation, then operation Raccoon was over, and the Legion Etranger team had been abandoned. He knew why they sent over a hitman. If one wanted to quiet a rooster, its head would have to be cut off. He knew why they had sent over Ocelot, a monster of an assassinthey were afraid of Black Mamba. He wouldnt put it past the DGSE to pull a stunt like this. They said that the worlds most formidable intelligence agency was the CIA, the toughest was the KGB, the most resilient was Mosad, and the shadiest was the DGSE. There has been no word from our staff, right? The captain was saddened by the fact that he had to ask their resident sleeper about his own regiments staff. None. The DGSE might have already alerted them to their attempts to destroy our team entirely. That may be true The operation has already succeeded, but weve been used as bait! muttered the captain self-consciously. Ombuti confidently said, Im not a hundred percent, but a thousand percent sure of this. Thanks to our team, France was able to involve Goukouni. Tombye and Habib believe that Goukouni has betrayed them. Goukouni is the head of the northern troops. Why would he betray them? Because of us, theyre claiming that the trap laid out for Makumbo has been torn apart. Makumbo came over to Frances side, so Goukouni decided to follow the tide and join them. Haha, I would expect something like that from them. My men have died, but it had made them all the happier? This is some messed up comradeship. It really is picture-perfect. Thats great, just wonderful. Hahaha! retorted the captain sarcastically. Has he gone into shock? Has he gone insane? Ombuti turned and glanced over at Black Mamba. As always, his eyes were half-closed and he was locked in meditation. Wakil was as deep as the ocean, so it was difficult to ever know what he was thinking. Because we had been wreaking havoc, FROLINAT is now on the verge of collapsing. As a result, we have earned the wrath of our own headquarters. Theres a clause that the FROLINAT members came to an agreement with. To decimate the mercenary special forces. Huh, FROLINAT has been pushing them to kill a team with only ten members? They say he even promised it to Allah. Ombutis information was plenty trustworthy. The most important information was usually acquired by paying someone a bribe. Even if the information was secured in the best way it possibly could be, someone needed the money in order to eat, sleep, and shop. Is this something I have to apologize for, or is this bigger trouble? Black Mamba, what do you think? If we get hit once and hit back twice, the opponents will get scared. If we get hit once and hit back ten times, then the opponents will bow down to us. If we get hit once and dont do anything, then we will get hit twice, ten times, every day. Black Mamba had his eyes half-closed as he answered without even turning his head. Hahaha! Thats an answer typical of Black Mamba. If we get hit, then we have to hit them back. Ombuti, youve done well. If I was of any help, then Im happy. Salam Allecum. Im also happy to be alive thanks to Black Mamba. Salam Allecum. Ombutis words were neither unexpected nor worthy of inspiring anger. An individual always had to sacrifice things for the good of the group. It might not have seemed fair, but it was something theyd come to accept. That was why they had all come crawling to Paya in the first place. The problem was whether it was sacrifice or devotion, which was the difference between sacrificing oneself or being sacrificed. Although the result was the same, the side that was being taken advantage of would feel cheated and wronged. Hm! A sigh escaped the captains mouth naturally. How could they break through their front lines? Even this filthy feeling could only be felt if they stayed alive. However dirty it felt, it meant that they had to stay alive for now. The captain had no intention to continue being their puppet. If he was to lose his military mind one more time, he was sure Black Mamba would beat him to death. Three thousand anvils were standing guard, and a thousand hammers were coming at them. The Legion Etranger team members were like beans in a food processor. No, they were a rock that was stuck within the complex gears between FROLINAT, Chads troops, Libya, the DGSE, and the French army. In a situation where the enemy was swarming toward them like an army of ants, their team had been slashed in half. No, taking into consideration their ability to harness weapons, they were of no use. They didnt have enough members to coordinate attacks between the snipers and the backup. The surviving members were all reaching the limits of their physical and mental stamina. Bell Man interrupted his contemplation. Captain, lets stop attempting to communicate with headquarters. Because of the hitman? The captain understood Bell Mans intent immediately. Chapter 99 - Episode 6: Far Far Away Lake Shari I suspected this but after hearing Ombuti, Im sure now. It is definitely a mafia contractor. Im sure, Captain, that you have someone in mind. The captains face grew dark. A double contract was when someone placed a price on both teams, whether they were on the opposing side or the same. Whether the operation failed or succeeded, the team that was involved would eventually have to be erased to get rid of the evidence. There was a saying that once the rabbit was caught, the dog used to catch the rabbit was also no longer needed. It was a betrayal used most often by the mafia. Even if the DGSE is known for playing dirty, itll be hard for them to create a double contract without the militarys agreement. The captain tried to deny their suspicions. To agree with Bell Man would be a big hit to his pride as captain. The French army has a strong sense of itself. A rooster takes care of its own flock and pecks at those that listen to it well. Anyone from the outside is discriminated against. Many have already assumed that Legion Etranger is disposable. Bell Man stopped sharing his opinion and stared at the captain. Bell Man was originally a CIA agent in charge of East Africa, though nobody was aware of this fact. Although it wasnt revealed, he knew the story behind the curtain like the back of his hand. There was an implicit deal? At the very least, the DGSE closed their eyes toward the situation. The government army and the intelligence agency were able to get Makumbo and the political initiative on their side thanks to us. They will be celebrating their victory. Men arent like the oecophylla smaragdina that Black Mamba talked about. If the Legion Etranger team starts blabbing about what has been happening, there will be a lot of people that will be in trouble. Is that why they sent a hitman? They probably didnt even think to make a double contract before they sent us on the backdoor operation. They probably assumed that after a couple of battles, wed naturally end up buried in the desert, but our operations succeeded, and we continued to survive, so their outlook started to change. Are you saying that because its difficult for them to shut us up, it would be easier for them to bury us in the desert? We were stabbed in the back from both sides. The DGSE must enjoy dirty operations as much as the CIA. To kick them in the butt, we have to survive and return safely. Were like badgers thrown into a pool of alligators. On top of that, there are piranhas and an enormous wild cat mixed in with them. How cruel. The captain felt as if all the energy had escaped from his body. The piranha was the hitman who had snuck into the hotel in the Paya. The enormous wild cat was obviously Ocelot. Even without Bell Man pointing it out, he was certain that this was a double contract being used to chop off the lizards tail. They had succeeded in the backdoor operation because they had Black Mamba, so the double contract had failed. As a result, the mercenaries had been able to stay alive in a situation where they surely should have been killed. The truth was always ugly. The captain didnt wish to say the ugly truth from his own mouth. Theyve made a big mistake. The incentives that Chad has gained may sound great, but Black Mambas worth is much greater. Their stupid bird brains miscalculated. Lets imagine Black Mamba as the enemy: being alive would be a nightmare. The captains lips slowly curved upwards. I want to see how headquarters will react once we return with Black Mamba. Oh ho, you mean that monster? Do you think we can control him? To his comrades, he was a guardian angel, but to the enemy, Black Mamba was a nightmare come to life. Seeing him face Ocelot made them all realize that truth with ease. Even if the rest of us end up buried in the desert, Black Mamba will make it back. Without getting revenge on the dirty traitors, he wouldnt be able to close his eyes in peace, said Bell Man strongly, unlike his usual self. But how can he? How much could an individual do to take on an entire organization? Even Le Monde wont write an article that will flush the country down the toilet. Thats why we must sacrifice ourselves so that Black Mamba will definitely be able to return home. Ah shut up! Why are a bunch of old farts blabbing like teenage girls?! Black Mamba opened his eyes. Did we wake you? No. I was just thinking about who would hire Ocelot. He even pointed out that there would be eight mercenaries. That means he already knew that Miguel and Morris were dead. Whos the punk watching us and acting like were pieces on a chessboard? It doesnt even surprise me anymore. I wouldnt even be surprised if the Soviets sent a nuclear missile flying at us. Bell Man shook his head at the captains words. To be stupidly brave is one thing, but laziness is dangerous. There may be many eyes watching, but theres only one person who could have hired him. Black Mamba, its like youve heard. France has some nerve using their tax dollars to send a hitman after a military team in the middle of an operation. I should have known. At Black Mambas criticism, the captains face soured. Its not the military. They wouldnt be so corrupt as to use both a backdoor and a double contract. Theres a high chance that its the DGSE. The DGSE could have easily found out our position by planting a sleeper. The captains words werent confident. Whether its the military or the intelligence agency, or Mitterrand himself, it doesnt matter. Anybody who stepped foot on this operation will have to accept the consequences handed out according to my calculations. Black Mambas words were both cold and heavy. The captain and Bell Man both trembled. They could see flying heads in the air and chopped-off limbs falling to the ground clearly in their minds eyes. Black Mamba wasnt anti-government, but he had shown allergic reactions to those who abused their power. He didnt care whether they were the minister, commander, or chief. Dont worry, I wont go galivanting on my own like a lunatic. Hm! The captain smiled bitterly as Black Mamba read his mind. Even if they were filthy, it was still his country. If Black Mamba decided he wanted to have it his way, who could possibly stop him? He was secretly worried for a moment. How are you feeling? Its bearable. Ill recover soon. Be careful. You have 43 cuts alone. While I was stitching you up, I found that seven of them were still open. Broken bones are more of a problem than the cuts though. Be careful for the time being. Ooh! Im still shaking. Bell Man shuddered. He could still see the pastry-like cuts and hear the crunching of ribs as Black Mamba pulled them out manually with his own hands. Black Mamba, just focus on getting better. Our lives are in your hands, but what was the identity of that monster? He said something about being a mutant. Hes similar to me. If he had been trained in martial arts, I would have lost. Its probably better not to mention him. Mu Ssang avoided the subject. He thought explaining the details would be a hassle, and all he really wanted to do now was rest. Weve already decided to do that. Who would believe us, even if we told them? Slicing through a persons neck with a whip, avoiding bullets, hes the type of person who could only be seen if he jumped through a Hollywood movie screen. Im more surprised by the person whos using our team like this than that monster who came after us. Wherever you go, people must be all the same. If the old farts hadnt sent a hitman, then I would have just ended it with a few beatings How embarrassing. As a leader and a French general, I apologize. Why is another victim apologizing? Captain, all you need to do is worry about your remaining family members. True. The captain turned his head, embarrassed. He was ashamed and still drowning within the organizations set guidelines. The Korean was planning on how he should take care of the family members of his dead comrade. He was dreading defeat and wondering if he could make it back alive, while the Korean was setting plans for the future after they returned safely. Black Mamba, are there raccoons and badgers in Korea, too? Yes. Although theyre a bit different from the ones here. Black Mamba had his eyes half-closed and was meditating while he answered blandly. He understood the captains wish to change the subject. Are raccoons more expensive than badgers? Raccoons are used exclusively for training. Badgers are more expensive, as theyre sold for medicinal purposes. Damn, Pieff named this team wrong. The badger was used as bait to catch the raccoon, after all. Why are we the ones who have to deal with this? the captain muttered sadly, unlike his usual self. The organization is the real monster. An individual is slowly sucked into the organization until he becomes one with the organization. He eventually believes that the organizations motives are for the greater good and persuades himself that the means justify the ends. As Chartres once said, he turned into an old monster. Do you think they can even remember the puppets they had at their disposal for their own means? Black Mamba said without much interest. What about our comrades that died in vain?! Those damned jerks! The captain pounded the windshield with his fist. His men had no direct conflict with FROLINAT. They only killed and were killed because they were ordered to. Their previous order had been all a sham, a scam. Thinking about his dead men made his blood boil. Captain, youre the one who said that soldiers had no right to live normal lives. Were soldiers, and we have a duty to finish our given task. Its not a problem. The captain stared at Black Mamba in disbelief. At some point, this guys words and actions had changed. He showed no signs of being shaken, seemed calm in demeanor, and his voice never changed tone. He was so level headed that it was almost scary. Black Mamba, arent you angry? Captain, were soldiers. The foreign mercenaries were the first to be used as a bulletproof shield. If youve eaten, then you have to pay the price of the meal. There are some who pay for the meal without eating it. There are also some who flip the table and ask for payment for the meal. Theres no one that would be happy to find out that they were betrayed. For the time being, whats important is that we stay alive. The captain replied, Now that its over, I can see the obvious result, but why did I make those absurd decisions? Ive sacrificed my men for no gain whatsoever. What could someone stupid like me possibly be able to do? Captain, in Korea, there is a popular saying: I knew that would happen. When a coup detat gains power and a president that rains bullets on his civilians is voted into office, thats when this phrase is commonly said. Once you know the result of a certain action, all of the reasons and causes connect to make the result look obvious. Those that believe that they knew this would happen always beat their chest in regret. Simply put, its hindsight bias. To say it in more words, its the assumption that you are more adept at predicting the future than is actually possible. After finding out the result, your brain tricks you into thinking that you could have already anticipated this to happen. Its a psychological illusion. Captain, you did the best you couldve done in the given situation. Thats good enough. You and I are both imperfect humans. What you have to do now is not worry about your past mistakes, but plan for the future. We have to concentrate on the situations that are to come. The captain stared at Black Mamba for a long time. Even though Black Mamba was younger than him, having been a monk, he seemed to have tasted the sweetness and bitterness of life more than he had. What kind of life had he led? The sudden wave of curiosity pushed back his depression. Youre right. We have to return alive for us to beat them or shoot them to death. From now on, youre excused from all tasks. Move your things, and dont even help out with little things like preparing meals. You will only concentrate on building up your condition and your part in the upcoming battles. Understand?! Understood. They suspected they had been double-crossed, but they had no evidence. The mercenaries didnt continue to dote on a suspicion that had no hard evidence, because all it did was hurt their pride and kill their morale. A straight line on a map from Paya to NDjamena headquarters was 552 miles. The straight path was 552 miles, but the actual path that needed to be traveled in secret, no one knew how long it was. They could tell their path would be a bloody trail. The captain anticipated that they would have to travel around 1,100 miles. His heart became as muddled as the thick dust that rose up from the pickup truck. The pickup veered forward the rest of the course. It was full force ahead. Huh! Black Mamba, who had been lost in thought, quickly grabbed the wheel and turned it. The pickup just barely swerved around a fallen acacia tree. Oh dear, I fell asleep. Wakil, Im sorry. Ombuti hung his head in embarrassment. This wasnt normal for Ombuti, whose home was the desert. His decreased stamina and lack of sleep had caused him to drive while half asleep. Ombuti, Ill drive. Get some sleep. Black Mamba, are you an idiot? Have you already forgotten what I told you? the captain retorted angrily. Narrow-minded punk! Black Mamba cursed the captain under his breath. Chapter 100 - Episode 7: Far Far Away Lake Shari Bell Man could clearly see through the captains emotional state. Bell Man had compared the French army to a rooster, which was their symbol, and criticized them. In Latin, the rooster that symbolized France was pronounced Gaul, which was also the original name of the country in French. Starting from the 16th century, the royal families of France engraved the rooster into their family crests. Even though the evidence pointed to this being absolute truth, he was still trying to deny it. Black Mamba, feeling a bit awkward, started to refill his empty magazine. Black Mamba was good at reading a situation, but he wasnt great at reading humans complicated emotions. For instance, an old married couple would have more and more things they suddenly forgot about, like when a husband forgot to flush the toilet after taking a dump and the wife who went in afterward screamed. The husband felt disappointed in the wife for making such a fuss about it, because the wife had done the same thing before, and he had kept his mouth shut and flushed it for her. If the wife even cared a little bit about him, then she wouldnt have felt the need to embarrass him like this. Logic and emotion clashed. Everyone thought through situations with both their heads and their hearts. The captains position right then was the same as the husband. Black Mamba, who had been meditating, quietly called for them to stop. Ombuti! Ombuti immediately turned the wheel and stopped, showing the side of the pickup. Pop, pop, pop A hundred sixty feet ahead, five bullets pelted the exact place they would have been if they had kept driving. The captain quickly readied his Pamus gun, while Black Mamba touched the muzzle of his own gun. Tui tus! (All dead!) From under the sand, a hand holding a gun popped out of the ground. Throwing off its cover, an Arab wearing a gandoura crawled out of the ground. The Arab who had been shot in the stomach yelled, Kanma, you will be cursed. The fires of hell will burn you. Sure, sure. Weve already been in and out of hell plenty of times already. Black Mamba shot the Arab right in the forehead. The middle-aged man collapsed with his head buried in the sand. Oh my! Ombuti and the captain stared at each others faces. It was surprising enough that they had dug a hole as cover, but Black Mambas actions were even more surprising. He had registered that there was someone in the ground from 160 feet away while they had been driving and shot them accurately to boot. Sight and hearing alone werent enough for this to make sense. With the sounds from the car and the wind, it would be hard to hear any small noises. His skills seemed to become more and more surprising. After Black Mamba had battled for his life with Ocelot, his spatial awareness skills had been upgraded to the next level. Even without a specific target to search for, he was able to pick up on small details. If Ocelot found out about this, he would pound the ground in regret. Before, he let out resonance to pick up on the enemys location, but there was a downfall to using resonance. If it hit a rock or other obstacle, it couldnt penetrate it. There would have been no way he could register those who were hiding underground, and there were also other restrictions to it. Lets go check it out. The captain jumped out of the passenger seat. When they removed the camouflaged cover, they found two corpses covered in blood and sand. One was a child smaller than the length of a rife. Those punks deserve to die! The captain ground his teeth together. Bell Man, who was checking the corpse, reflexively asked, How did you know? Although he had accepted this impossible feat, he couldnt help but ask. During a battle, it was easy to bypass such a phenomenon, but in a situation where they were out in the open, it was hard for Black Mamba to keep his skills hidden. He couldnt just stand by with the enemy lying in wait for them. There are three of me: the me I know, the me others know, and the me that neither I nor others know. No one understood what this answer meant, but the mercenaries didnt bother asking any further. Maybe he had caught this habit from Chartres, but Black Mamba would sometimes say things that no one could understand. They just accepted it and got lost in their own thoughts. Black Mamba was trying to figure out his identity, too. The me I know is Mu Ssang. The me others know is Black Mamba. The me neither him nor others knew was that he wasnt a human, but an entity he wasnt aware of. During his battle for survival, his spatial awareness skill had become much more pronounced. He was able to decipher where the obstacles were disturbing a signal. He couldnt tell if it was from their brain waves or their veins, but he could differentiate between humans, animals, and bugs. His range had also widened. Within three hundred feet, he could sense those who were hiding underground. If he was given adequate time and he really concentrated, then it was possible. But the downfall of his spatial awareness skill was the length of time he could use it for. Thirty minutes was the limit. If he used the skill for thirty minutes, then he would have to rest for at least ten minutes to not burn out. If he overextended himself, then he would get a nosebleed or be hit with a headache. The Legion Etranger team decided to move for thirty minutes, then rest for ten minutes. He wasnt sure if the spatial awareness skill he gained at Chinto Mountain was due to his training there or if it was a special skill found at that specific location. If it was a skill that he was gifted, then he had to resist flaunting it, like his teacher had warned, so that he didnt cause damage like Ocelot. Captain, I found them and killed them coincidentally. Of course. Its a coincidence now, and the coincidences will continue. Haha! At the captains response, Ombuti and Bell Man nodded their heads and chuckled. The stern captain had changed a lot, too. If one didnt change after almost dying multiple times, then he was a lunatic. Skills surpassing logic had a limit. Even if they were to tell someone, no one would believe them, and if they did, there was a chance it would boomerang back and harm them instead. If they could use it, then it would most definitely be used. The captain and Ombuti knew the evils of human greed well. Their team hid the supplies and did their best to reach Trident Rock. Black Mamba rode in the backseat of the leading vehicle and was doing his duty as a human radar with his eyes half-closed. He laid out their travel path like it was a chessboard. With his spatial awareness, his radar was searching through every crevice. It was a strategy that was no different than actual radars. Two hours passed. Black Mamba again stopped Alpha and shot at a point 100 feet away. Thirty seconds later, he fired again. Clear! The captain nodded his head and raised his hand from the passengers seat, then snapped his wrist back and forth. Beta and Gamma stopped so that Jang Shin and Emil could jump out. They dug up the two people with a shovel. There wasnt actually much to dig out, since the cover was made out of thin twigs and felt. This is unbelievable. Jang Shin gasped. The hole was muddy with the blood of the two corpses. Black Mamba had caught five separate guerrilla troops who had been hiding in the ground for days. Black Mamba, this might complicate things. The captain clicked his tongue as he stared down at the corpses. Damned punks. It was a coarse but effective tactic. Black Mamba wore an awkward expression, too. He could easily decipher FROLINATs plans. The enemy had laid out troops to ambush them on the trail that the Legion Etranger team had decided to take. They were human booby traps. There was no way to know how many more were lying in wait to attack them. It was a harsh action, but if they had enough men, it was actually a productive plan. It would definitely cause them stress as well as decrease the speed of their travel. There was a different reason for Black Mamba clicking his tongue. The enemy had used child soldiers to pad their troops numbers. There were usually two child soldiers with each adult one. It was cowardly, but this was Sahel. Black Mamba was determined to obliterate the one called Habib. FROLINAT hadnt added Black Mamba into their calculations, so they hadnt been able to direct their troops properly. There was no point anyway. There was no strategy left for them to use. The captain gave up on confirming each situation. If Black Mamba declared it clear, then there was no point in wasting time to check it. Black Mamba and Ombuti led the way. Ombuti, four miles out, theres a small army approaching. Ombuti thought for a second, then turned the steering wheel to the right. Ombuti, who knew the roads well, was able to meet the opposition as he turned right, and Black Mamba took out 24 men in a heartbeat. Suddenly, grenades started to fly at them. It was FROLINATs rear army. They had used their comrades as bait to catch the mercenaries. From that point on, their team started to be chased again. On the 29th day of Operation Raccoon, the Legion Etranger team finally arrived at Mousso. Mousso was a village located 40 miles east of Paya. They went up and down several times and ended up on the northeastern side. Unable to head south due to the oncoming pressure of enemy forces, they were forced to change direction toward Mnedie. During that time, the pickup that had been working well up to that point stopped. White smoke curled up from the radiator. It was the same pickup that had been showered by bullets earlier. They raised the hood and watched Jang Shins expression, which wasnt good. There was a crack in the radiator, and the coolant was leaking. The coolant couldnt circulate, so the engine couldnt cool down. It was unfixable. Captain, its not repairable. Putain. Mike kicked the broken pickup. Bury it. At the captains command, Mike, Bell Man, Emil, and Jang Shin worked like lowly army troops. The ground was mixed with sand, but there was a lot to shovel, as the hole had to be big enough to bury the truck. Even if it was hard work, they had no choice but to do it to cover their tracks. Ombuti, find a place for us to build a camp. The captains voice cracked. Due to physical stress, his voice box was damaged. Even the captain, who was used to war, had reached the limit of his stamina. Captain, theres no water here. To the east, there was a desolate land called the Mnedie Plateau. Since it was exposed to the sandstorms of Sahel, it was a land of endless sand dunes. There were large rock formations and caves from time to time, but there was no water or plants anywhere. Jang Shin, how much water do we have left? We werent able to refill for the last five days. We only have ten and a half gallons left. It would be hard to survive more than a couple of days with a little more than ten gallons. Ombuti, can you find water? Im not familiar with this area, so it will be difficult. Ombutis expertise was the Sahel area from Niger Bilmar to Djourab Erg. He wasnt familiar with the Mnedie Plateau on the east side. Damn. First, lets look for a place to build our defenses and rest. I feel like my spine is about to collapse. Difficult situations kept arising. Jang Shin, who was holding a wrench and hammer, crawled out from under the vehicle. Sir, put it down. Black Mamba, who was functioning as a human jack, placed down the pickup with a thud. Will it be difficult to use? It doesnt look good. Its a complete mess. The suspension is already broken, and the engine gasket has been knocked out of balance. The acceleration joint is also shot. The belt has hardened and is in need of changing. You sure have a complicated way of saying that its done for. Will it be hard to fix? Jang Shin slammed his palms on the hood of the vehicle. We have no spare parts. No engine gasket. Nothing. Were even out of gasoline. Its only been a month since we picked up a new car Its because we pushed it too hard in this harsh environment. We should be grateful it even lasted this long. Or we should thank the men that made this three-year-old junk car. Good work. Black Mamba pounded the cars body. It was a miracle that the pickup had even lasted this long. Even though it was customized, the pickup was a commercial vehicle. It wasnt a military vehicle or an armed truck. For the last month, it had traveled through grasslands, wastelands, swamps, and deserts with its engine running until it was on the brink of exploding. They were happy it had lasted a month for them. Oh, damn. What more can we expect from a product made from monkeys on an island? Only the outside is nice. Those damned monkeys, said the captain, annoyed. Black Mamba and Jang Shins mouths dropped open. Only two days earlier, Captain had praised Japanese-made cars. His mind must have left him. They took turns staring at their other five comrades with their lively eyes. Other than the one person they were unable to properly categorize as human, they all looked battered. With white cracked lips, bloodshot eyes, and sharply protruding cheekbones, they were like zombies. The only thing that differentiated them from zombies was their glittering pupils. Their bodies had reached their ends a long time ago. They were resisting death merely with the mentality and hope to return home alive.