Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 238



Chapter 238: Chapter 27, Episode 13: For Whom The Bell Tolls

Look at the actions of the ANO!

They were the Order of Assassins. Their true purpose was to reconstruct the Aloadin kingdom. Their values were upheld by the teachings of Isma’ilism. They were an extremely exclusive sect. For their own purposes and the execution of what they believed was good, they only hear what they wanted to hear, and see what they wanted to see.

Other religions, sects, and ideas were subjected to demolition. Others’ happiness wasn’t their concern. They executed extreme actions of superiority and discrimination that Black Mamba hated.

Like how Asura’s status alternated between good and evil depending on the religion, good and evil could always be adjusted according to human values.

Being good or evil weren’t the conditions that made one human. In fact, the universal moral code should serve as guidance for human conditions. Black Mamba’s face brightened up. His trip to Syria hadn’t been a waste. He had an idea of the conditions that conformed people to be human, a question that had been sitting heavily on his mind.

Deep in thoughts, Black Mamba’s forehead creased.

Kuhwuwuwu—

A great howling knocked on his brain. It was a howl filled with bloodlust and ill intent.

“Jamal, didn’t you hear anything strange?”

“I didn’t, sir.”

Jamal looked puzzled.

Kuheueue—

The howling sounded again.

“I see!”

Those weren’t sound waves transmitted through the air. The howls were like emotions transferred directly to his brain. It was something he’d experienced at the Nakdong River.

On a foggy night where there was a full moon, countless soldiers had risen from the river in lines. There hadn’t been a single sound or water ripple. They had simply emerged, head first. There were corroded metal hats on their skulls. They had surfaced with backpacks on their backs, and corroded rifles slung around their shoulders.

When the formation had been established, their silent march began. The sound of boots walking across the water made it seem as though they were walking on the ground.

Clack clack—

Canteens knocking against the butt of their rifles sounded.

Kuuhuh—

A long cry, which sounded as though they were begging for something, had replaced their chants. The marching skeletons had stood before him in lines, like always. 1,000s of skeleton soldiers howled together.

Kuuuhaa—

Kuhuuuh—

They wanted something. He just didn’t know what. What could a 12-years-old who had been confined to the life of a slave in his uncle’s house know? He could only watch. There was resentment in the skeleton’s eyes. At least, that was what he thought.

Uuuuuwooo—

Rustle rustle—

Clack clack—

The marching skeletons had disappeared into the water again.

No one else had seen the skeleton soldiers aside from Mu Ssang. His teacher had referred to them as the lost bodies. He had sealed the ability, saying that it was an evil secondary skill only a human with developed dantians could see.

However, that wasn’t the howling of the hollow presence he’d experienced in the past. It wasn’t lost souls, either. They weren’t the remains of a pure body, but the real deal. It was a howl filled with madness, bloodlust, injustice, and all kinds of negative emotions.

His blood boiled. A similar fighting spirit from when he had met Ocelot arose within him. He wanted to tear apart the being, which made the sound. Black Mamba’s eyes turned light red. He started emanating a strong bloodlust.

“Master, master!” Jamal shouted pathetically.

Jamal’s face turned blue from the intense bloodlust.

“Yeah?”

He turned his head towards the direction of the whining.

“Aaah!”

Jamal screamed when he made eye contact with Black Mamba. At Azrael’s arrival, all of his hair was raised, his eyes turned light red, and his expression turned grim.

“Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.”

He was the angel of death whose stare was said would end a human’s life. Jamal shoved his head between his knees and quivered.

Boom—

One side of his head rang. A peppermint scented energy spread around his brain and cooled it down. His head felt more refreshed.

“Om manni banme hom, om—”

He calmed his mind with the mind centering technique.

Black Mamba’s eyes returned to its original color. His hair, which had been floating about, swayed back down. The bloodlust, which had filled the air, disappeared like it was washed away.

“Jamal, did you know about this place?”

Jamal raised his head at the calm voice. As usual, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa was expressionless.

Did I imagine it? No. He was the Azrael.

Jamal shook his head from side to side.

“Jamal, I asked if you knew about this place.”

“What? Yes! Despite eight active years with the ANO, I didn’t have a clue. After all, I was a special forces warrior and didn’t stay very long at the Aloadin.”

“Special forces warrior?”

“It’s a self-destructing terrorist, to be exact.”

“Ha, you’d be willing to self-destruct when ordered to do so? Isn’t Islam especially wary of bodily harm?”

“It’s considered an exception when punishing heathens and betrayers. We were told that Aloadin’s angels would descend and restore our bodies to normal.”

“F*** that s****. Those b*stards are saying whatever’s convenient for them.” Black Mamba snorted.

Those were techniques that the Korean politicians had often used. Whatever they did, it was all considered romantic.

“Yes, sir. I also believed them before I met you, master. Now, I feel as though I’ve awakened from a nightmare.”

“People become heathens when their basic morals are swayed by the frustration and dissatisfaction with reality. Hm, should I break it?”

He embedded the Gorgon with his resonance. Its body vibrated. The Gorgon hit the floor with its violent vibrations.

Whoosh—

Bang—

The floor shattered.

“Hm?”

Despite a power enough to shatter a 10-inch concrete slab floor, only the surface broke. The floor was covered with 50 millimeters of rock. A black light illuminated from between the broken rocks. He embedded another wave of resonance into the Gorgon.

Vrrr—

The Gorgon vibrated. Its vibration became more intense. A cloud of white smoke started following the whip.

“Ha!”

Bang—

The Gorgon flew in a cycloid curve and landed on the floor violently.

Rumble—

The large basement shook as though it would collapse. Jamal, who was covering his ears, stumbled.

“Huh!”

The Gorgon bounced back up. Electricity ran through his hands at the unnatural rebound. He almost released the whip. The black floor didn’t budge. It was made from an unusual type of metal. It had returned the exact cycloid curve like a squash court wall. There was no chance of shattering it.

“Jamal, this place wasn’t built by the ANO. There’s another basement underneath. Bansiri opened this place to escape.”

He tapped on the floor, which the Gorgon had once opened, revealing a 50 centimeters diameter circle.

“There are several secret places in Aloadin built during ancient times. I could wear the five-point badge due to the bullet in my thigh, but in actuality, I am an outsider. I don’t know the organization’s secrets, sir. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about? The ANO were the ones who built a secret hiding place beneath a pre-existing basement. It’s just unfortunate that I don’t have the time to investigate it.”

Black Mamba clicked his tongue. The unknown howling remained in his brain, causing discomfort. There were about 40 to 50 minutes left until daylight. There wasn’t enough time.

“I wonder if I can visit again?”

After checking his watch, Black Mamba left the underground basement with a regretful expression. The unknown presence remained at a corner of his mind.

The sun still rose despite the empty plains. The sunlight soared beyond the meaningless rocky hills like spears. It was 30 minutes before sunrise.

“Master, don’t we have to leave?” Jamal asked carefully.

He feared for his master, who seemed to be too comfortable. Kaparja Valley was an isolated region, but the grand explosions at dawn and the sound of demolishing cliffs could be heard from 100s of kilometers away.

“Jamal, an important target remains. Hold on.”

Black Mamba took out the encrypted, compressed satellite transmitter from his backpack. He spread the parabolic antenna, which was the size of two palms. He changed the transmitter’s compiler hull mode to dialog mode. There was a possibility of interception, but now wasn’t the time to be picky.

“Dong-bang-bull-pae here, there are 1,000 pomegranate seeds raised with electricity and water. There are some pollutants amongst the crushed pomegranates. A lot of money is needed for repackaging. There are also dodo birds nests. Call back in five minutes if you’re interested in purchasing.”

Click—

He turned the switch off after saying what he wanted to say.

A dodo bird’s nest referred to missiles. The pomegranates raised with electricity and water meant that there was a hydroelectric power plant. The pollutants referred to biological and chemical weapons. He’d made them up randomly but trusted that the DGSE would figure it out.

Grrr—

An embarrassing growl came from Black Mamba’s stomach. Jamal fidgetted in embarrassment and pity. It was the wrongdoing of a servant who had disregarded his master’s hunger. On the other hand, he found his master’s humane side welcoming, unlike the untouchable position he’d been in.

“Tsk, the explosives took up the emergency rations’ space.”

There were too many things. He’d only packed a few C-rations to reduce its weight. He hadn’t known that the situation would get critical so quickly. His stomach had long digested the C-ration.

Jamal pulled out a hard bread from his pocket. Tortillas were baked round dough filled with fresh vegetables and ham. However, the bread was just baked tortilla dough pressed together. It was due to the food shortage.

Without enough fermentation and proofing, it became hard as stone. Jamal focused on cutting off the soiled bread crust with his pocket knife.

“Master, it’s not much, but please take it.”

Jamal humbly handed him the bread. Black Mamba’s sunken eyes darted between the bread and Jamal’s gaunt face. The mitochondria in his cells, which produced ATP, moved actively while his brain waves started stabilizing.

When the brain waves stabilized, the image captured on his dimensional sight was brighter. On the other hand, without enough cell activity, it would destabilize his brain waves. Jamal’s were grey. That meant his metabolism was slow.

“Thanks.”

Black Mamba received the bread gratefully. A human’s true nature appeared in times of crisis. Jamal, himself, was starving. Black Mamba was thankful that Jamal cared enough to give him the bread that he’d been saving up for himself. If he refused other’s sincerity, it would be an insult. He cut it in half and handed it to Jamal.

“Sir, your servant is fine.”

“Jamal, there’s no human above other humans and no human below other humans. Don’t call me master. I’m Dong-bang-bull-pae. There’s a country called Korea at the eastern end. Anyone who shares their food is considered family over there. You and I will share a bread today. I recognize Amud Jamal as my family. You and I, Dong-bang-bull-pae, will become brothers, and you will receive my protection.”

Black Mamba, whose communication skills and cheating abilities have improved, showed the aura of a nobleman.

Jamal’s eyes widened like big raindrops. He received the bread with trembling hands. He pulled out a cloth from his pocket and wrapped the precious bread. It was a bread that the apostle and Azrael, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, had offered. It was a holy object that he had to preserve as long as he could.

Jamal fell to his knees.

“Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, how can I be your brother? That’s impossible. I’ve walked the path of a sinner because of the foolish ideas I’ve had during my youth. Your great soul has saved me, one whose worth is lesser than a worm, and it’s more than an honor to be treated like a human, sir. I will hold your shoes for the rest of my life.”

Black Mamba smiled in silence. Somehow, he had become a terrorist, but he was pure by nature. A humble person couldn’t be evil.

The civil twilight[1] cast a halo above Black Mamba’s head. Jamal looked up at Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa in awe.

“Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim, Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam Ddu-bai-buru-pa!” [2]

Jamal burst into tears. The awaited apostle had arrived. He wasn’t a weak apostle who was all talk, but a true apostle with strength and power. Even the Ismailis, a small sect of the Shia Muslims, had waited a long time for the apostle’s arrival.

The bread tasted horrible. It was hard as a rock, not sweet, and salty. It was a typical kind of training center food. For someone with crocodile teeth, he didn’t mind, but the average human would hurt their teeth from eating it.

“Jamal, there’s no time.”

Black Mamba rushed Jamal, who wasn’t eating the bread.

“I cannot eat this bread, sir. It is a holy object that will convey the legend of Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa for generations.”

“Hah!” Black Mamba pounded on his chest out of frustration.

For some reason, all the humans he took in became more strange. He didn’t realize that he was the cause.

“Jamal, it’s said that a ghost who dies after eating has lived a good life.”

“What does that mean, sir?”

“It means one must eat to their fill and maintain a healthy body before returning to Allah’s side.”

“Ah! Those are amazing words. Still, I can’t. I will search in the food storage room. Date palms can still be eaten even when it’s burnt, sir.”

“Ah!”

Black Mamba slapped his forehead at the word “date palms.” There was a customized C-ration in his backpack, which the DGSE had given him. The C-ration was filled with special chocolates made from date palms. He’d forgotten about it trying to concentrate on the battle.

In Paris’ Rue Saint-Dominique, No. 14, the DGSE strategic headquarters,

The Gauloises filled Bonipas’ office with a fishy smell, like always. Bonipas was staring at the wall before him with a cigarette in his mouth. A huge electronic map of Paris was reflected on the wall.

The DGSE’s Ministry of Interior went into full-fledged emergency mode after receiving Black Mamba’s compressed message. Currently, 10 groups of the GIGN were lurking around Paris-Charles de Gaulle airport and the Opéra Bastille. The entrance’s guards and guides had been replaced with agents from the strategic division.

Bang—

The strategic office door was flung open. The head of strategies, Ariba, and the head of intelligence, Claude, jumped in.

“Did it happen?”

[1] 晨明, the period right after dawn or just before the sun rises.

[2] “In the name of God, the most gracious and merciful, may peace be upon Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa!”


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