Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 139: Chapter 17, Episode 8: Sahel’s Night Sky

The northern central region of Chad was prone to endless sandstorms from the Sahara Desert. It was so frequent that the UN reported 200,000,000,000 grams of dust was sent over to the Atlantic Ocean from the Sahara and Bodele deserts each year.

A research report also stated that the organic matters from Africa sent into the Amazon by the sandstorms were the reason why the Amazon Rainforest sustained itself. There was another statement from the north-eastern regions of the Sahel, which said that there wasn’t a day whereby the sandstorms took a break.

In December, the Bodele and TIbesti regions consisted of strong winds and high-temperature differences. A temperature that reached beyond 30 degrees Celsius during the day would be lower than 10 degrees Celsius at night. Some regions faced negative temperatures. While it caused heat-induced headaches to some, death by hypothermia was also frequent.

The tired members were prone to sleeping in their sweat-soaked clothes.

The wet clothes absorbed their temperature, and their temperature continued to fall as the water from the clothes evaporated.

Ombuti and the Captain, who were bright in desert survival, always checked in with their conditions and minded their body temperatures. Sun WooHyun was similarly skilled at maintaining his condition. The problems lied with the rookies, Emil and Jang Shin. The two believed in their youth and strength, which led to lazy habits.

Emil and Jang Shin had been kicked awake and were even sworn at as chicken heads by Bellman, several times during the mission.

Bellman’s face darkened.

Emil’s heartbeat wasn’t picking up despite the epinephrine injection.

“There’s no effect.”

The team members’ faces darkened at Bellman’s words.

“What the hell! The one on fire is fine, but the normal one is freezing to death? Ugh, this damned Africa! F****** hell, Sahel!”

The Captain grabbed his head with both his hands.

Black Mamba’s face was similarly frozen. Emil was his partner. He felt as though he’d go crazy just watching him die. How good would it be if he could press the blood vessels on his hand and direct some life force, just like those martial arts s! However, a remained a .

He searched through his memories with determination. He felt as though he’d remember something.

“Soul-Returning Pain Administration!” Black Mamba exclaimed.

It was his master’s whip, also known as Soul-Returning Pain Administration. It referred to the high degree of pain unleashed to call back a soul once it received its shock. It was a torment that caused one not to pass out as it tore through the skin and vibrated the organs.

It was a type of whipping that he didn’t even want to recall, but his teacher’s whipping had been a form of an Interrogative Blood Pacer. After being whipped, the body felt hot, and the muscles relaxed. After several rounds, all the bad substances in the body seeped out.

Compared to the Muchi sibariage, which was a torture technique, the Soul-Returning Pain Administration was a healing technique. In retrospect, an evil man’s whip would be poisonous while a good man’s whip would serve as medicine.

His body remembered his teacher’s point of targets, time, and strength control. He couldn’t forget even if he wished to, as he’d been hit until his soul almost dissolved with blood splattering all over. He’d never tried it before, but he was confident in hitting someone. It was better to try something rather than sit back and watch.

He was looking for a suitable weapon until the tent’s supporting rods came into sight. He took out two rods without a thought. The rods were bendy as it was made out of aluminum and coated resin. He felt as though it would wound right around the skin when hit. It was perfect for whipping.

“Everyone, move back!”

His comrades, who were attached to Emil, flew back like thrown stones. He swung the two rods in the air several times before hitting Emil without restraint.

Slap slap slap slap—

Two rods moved as fast as raindrops. It was a whipping that moved 10 times in a second. Emil’s naked body soon turned bright red.

“Black Mamba, what are you doing?”

Surprised, Valboir and Bronin grabbed his arms. Black Mamba shoved them away.

“Ahhh!”

Valboir and Bornin were flung outside the tent and rolled to the floor. They looked like soccer balls, which had been kicked away. The mercenaries, who were surprised by his immense strength, were unable to step up.

Still, there were some brave people who didn’t know their place at all times.

“You damn b*stard, are you trying to kill Emil?”

Centienne grabbed the metal pipe used for the car’s jacket grip and aimed for Black Mamba’s head.

“You, what are you!” Bellman shouted in surprise.

Clang—

The sound of metal clashing against each other rang.

Centienne’s mouth fell open. He exchanged looks with Black Mamba’s head and the metal pipe several times. The one-inch diameter metal pipe had been bent like a rice stick. Centienne entered into a mental breakdown.

“Sergeant Centienne, do you want to be beaten to a pulp?”

A fierce warning echoed in Centienne’s head. It was the sound of a monster growling.

“Ah!”

Centienne, who was washed in primitive fear, threw the pipe away and rushed backward. Even then, Black Mamba didn’t stop his whipping.

Ombuti wasn’t the type to stop his master’s actions. No, he was rather gawking in admiration at his master’s health. Jang Shin and the Captain didn’t stop Black Mamba either. There was always meaning to Black Mamba’s actions. Even Bellman had stepped back to watch the strange happening.

Slaaaap slap—

Papapapapa—

Craaack—

Several impactful sounds rang. The rods began to move even faster. The whipping sped up to 1,000 hits of revolutions per minute. Several parts of the skin were torn open at the immense whooping. Blood splattered like aerosol. Those were indescribable injuries.

Black Mamba flipped Emil over with the tip of his toes. He had whipped Emil’s front enough, so now the back had to be whipped equally.

Those who didn’t know what was going on slowly lost their color. That was an evil person lashing out at his partner like he was cooking fish.

Sun WooHyun experienced a new sensation with an emptied head. A psycho lashed out with two rods as the fireplace lit in the background. That was the b*stard who had the Kanma, reincarnated within himself.

He knew how painful it was from experience. He hadn’t been able to pee after being pummelled by that damned b*stard. It was a horrible whipping that damaged the hidden muscles of the body. That b*stard who was whipping his comrade to a faster death was truly the devil.

Centienne’s face wasn’t any different.

He had known that he was a crazy b*stard, but now it was certain. Black Mamba’s face, which reflected the fireplace’s light, looked like the devil’s. The scar on his cheek, which flashed in between his attacks, made him look more vicious.

“I must be mad. I’ve hit that guy!”

He admonished himself.

Black Mamba had been hitting Emil’s front for five minutes and was currently at the three-minute mark for his back. Even Black Mamba sweated as he whipped. It wasn’t easy to control the degree of pain, time, and target points.

Emil, who was just about to cross over to the underworld, was at peace. He had never felt like this in his entire life. Would his mother’s womb be as comfortable? Would Catherine’s chest be as nice? He felt as though he could whistle freely.

He saw a faint light at the tip of his nose. The light called to him.

[Welcome, this is the place for the unfeeling. It is a place where you can relieve all sadness and pain. You will be comforted. You will truly be in peace.]

His peace shattered the moment he was about to step into the light. A monster was hitting him relentlessly. It was painful. It was beyond painful. The light continued to call him over, but he couldn’t move. The monster frowned. It seemed like it was saying it’d murder him if he didn’t return. The monster resembled Black Mamba very much.

He begged for his life, but his mouth wasn’t moving.

“Uuuuuh.”

Black Mamba heard a small groan by his ears. He didn’t stop his whipping.

“Black, save me!”

It was a thin voice, only Black Mamba could hear, but it gradually became louder. He threw the rods away and listened carefully.

Thump thump—

The heart was beating. He could feel the cardiac muscles moving and gathering strength. Black Mamba called Bellman over with his hand. Bellman hesitated but ended up walking over. Looking at the whipping made his knees weak.

“It’s done.”

“It’s done? You didn’t send him over, but it’s done?” Sun WooHyun mumbled with suspicion.

Bellman, who had plastered his ears onto Emil’s chest, shouted.

“He did it! He’s alive!”

“What! He’s alive?”

“Woah!”

Bronin, Jang Shin, and even the Captain rushed forward and massaged Emil’s limbs.

After 10 minutes, Emil finally opened his eyes.

“It hurts. It hurts so much.”

That was all Emil said before he fainted.

It was only right that he fainted. Emil’s body did not remain fine. His body was covered in red and blue bruises as though he’d been shoved into a chimpanzee cage. Several areas of his skin were torn and bleeding.

“Black, is that an eastern healing method?” Bellman asked.

Black Mamba smiled.

“No. Just dying and dying by a beating—they’re the same thing.”

Bellman’s eyes grew wide.

“That’s...that’s impossible!”

“But, you can’t die if you’re in immense pain.”

Black Mamba, who didn’t have anything more to say, left unbelievable words before leaving the place. He felt embarrassed to see his partner in such a state.

The Captain and mercenaries’ faces turned white.

“Did he beat him up so that Emil would wake from the painful shock?”

“It’s basically ‘Wake up if you don’t want to die.’ What a horrible guy,” Centienne and Maxim whispered.

“Just dying and dying by a beating is the same thing.”

At Bellman’s words, everyone’s eyes turned to Black Mamba.

“Crazy b*stard.”

“Scary f*****.”

“I shouldn’t associate with him.”

“Kanma’s not enough for that guy.”

Their common thought, however, was that a sadist had appeared in their group. Ombuti was in a different world of his own.

“As expected of my master. He brings the dead back alive.”

Sun WooHyun slid next to Centienne.

“Sergeant, I want to tell Black Mamba you’ve been complaining about him behind his back.”

“Ah! What are you saying? You’ve no idea how grateful I am to Jang Shin and Emil. What complaints can I have against Black Mamba, who saved me so many times? I’ve been praying for Black Mamba’s revival this whole time!” Centienne leaped in his place.

The distrust and complaints between the two groups had disappeared like a washed-out stream with a single performance. It was like how a runny nose was nothing compared to pain-inducing diseases.

Emil had woken up. Hypothermia offered no after-effects as long as he didn’t die. He recovered instantly.

Emil woke up in perfect condition except for his chattering teeth. He had seen hell in the moment of awakening. Black Mamba, with the moving firelight in his background, was the devil.

The relentless whipping had sucked out his senses and left pain, which twisted his brain. It was the first kind of torment he’d felt since his birth. He had wanted to faint once more, but he couldn’t. He had only been able to faint once the whipping was over.

Emil made his statement as he described the comfort of death and shining light with stutters.

“So, you see, I was about to head into the light, when a monster that looked like Black Mamba started to hit me all over.”

“And?”

“It was so painful. I realized such pain existed for the first time in my life. I couldn’t even die because of the pain.”

The mercenaries, who were listening, shivered in fear. How painful had it been for a dead person to jump back to life!

“Black Mamba isn’t my partner. He’s a crazy Charon.”

Emil ended his story with that sentence.

Charon was a boatman who carried dead souls on a boat across the rivers Styx and Acheron. Black Mamba, who pulled Emil out of hell, became a crazy Charon.

Emil glanced at Black Mamba.

The shocked mercenaries were unable to fall asleep. Only Black Mamba was sleeping peacefully on the reed bed Ombuti had provided.

He was a b*stard who had fallen asleep without a word of apology after beating his partner half to death. Emil made a fist and shivered. He wanted to land a punch, but the after-effects were too fearsome. He recalled the scary whip and tormenting pain. Simply looking at his partner was enough to send him into shock.

“But why does my body feel so light?”

His body should have been aching all over between his bones and muscles, but it felt light enough to fly. It made him want to fight against Black Mamba for once.

“Still, that’s something not to be done.”

He could almost imagine himself sitting by the Champs-élysées, begging for money with a hat and broken limbs. Emil’s cheeks trembled as he looked at Black Mamba’s sleeping face.

“That s***’s complaining when I saved his life!” Black Mamba complained with narrowly-opened eyes after Emil left.