Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 143: Chapter 18, Episode 4: The Returning Battle

Sun WooHyun had snorted upon knowing that Black Mamba was a second class private. Black Mamba was a talented person whose limits couldn’t be measured. A dog would laugh if a military left a talent, worth an army, to the second rank.

There were cases in his country whereby a politician would disguise as a lower-ranking soldier to work in the military’s commanding sector, albeit for a different purpose. That was done to root out opposing rebels.

“Black Mamba is a high-ranking secret agent.”

Sun WooHyun was certain of this. The rank of a second class private was just that, a rank. Black Mamba’s position in the team was beyond the position of a team leader. He simply didn’t stand out in comparison to the leader.

The only thing he couldn’t understand was Black Mamba not realizing his worth. Sun WooHyun thought it was probably due to his lack of social experience, which could be adjusted. Sun WooHyun was planning to act as an agent for Black Mamba, who didn’t acknowledge his worth properly.

Sun WooHyun had reached a theory closer to the truth, but if at all, he didn’t know Black Mamba. Black Mamba was a mentally mature person who lacked acknowledgment of his worth. He was called the Sahel’s devil, but he was also a progressive who sought to find the conditions of what made humans, humans. The only reason Sun WooHyun found him lacking was because of the motto he had made in Mt. Chung Saeng called the Indestructible Three Flames.

The Indestructible Three Flames referred to non-discrimination, non-superiority, and non-privilege. It was the basis of an indestructible common identity that would spread throughout the great Sahel and the entirety of Africa.

Black Mamba knew his worth but simply didn’t take advantage of it. Someone who was lacking would always nitpick on someone more successful.

Sun WooHyun’s impulsive actions were a result of the traumatic experience of losing his association. After he was shattered by Black Mamba in his lonesome, he left the pool of FAP he’d swam in for 17 years. He had the mindset of a child who’d lost his mother in the middle of an amusement park.

He had been told that he’d be given a house and food, but there hadn’t been a straightforward deal. Moreover, Ombuti was a servant, and he was a lackey. His position was unstable. It was upsetting for an officer of a communist country to work so hard to end up as a servant. However, that was reality. He couldn’t think of anything else in the first place, as all he knew was killing people.

Annoyance filled Black Mamba’s eyes. He was already burdened to death by Ombuti. Now that he’d saved one of his ethnicity, the b*stard was asking him to take responsibility. He was like an archenemy in this situation.

“I should just kill him since he’s so bothersome!”

Black Mamba was slightly regretful. Although Sun WooHyun was a help to their forces, he was only a barking spitz, in his opinion. He was both needed and unneeded. They were on an endless path to escape. He had nearly snapped at the additional barking presence beside him.

Sun WooHyun moved several steps back, noticing his mood quickly. Calamity followed a monster’s anger.

“Ugh!” Black Mamba sighed.

He had grown fond of the annoyance after some time. His desire to kill didn’t surge.

Clack—

“Wakil, should I kill him?”

Eyes that were embedded deeply on rough skin flashed with killing intent. He looked as though he’d pull on the trigger if Black Mamba did so much as blink.

“What, what are you trying to do here!”

Sun WooHyun flashed backward as his face turned blue.

“This scary old man!”

Goosebumps formed on his back in streaks. The old man acted out more in comparison to the first unit bodyguards who were fanatics of Kim Il-Sung. He was more afraid of Ombuti than Black Mamba.

Black Mamba got serious.

“Sun WooHyun, let’s get this straight. I place more value in a world of free will more than anything else. Communism is a new form of organization that doesn’t acknowledge free will. I may have left South Korea because of hatred, but I hate North Korea even more. Truthfully, my head is too stubborn to believe in a Red like you. Would you be able to abandon your hometown, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea?”

“That communist country was the one who abandoned me first. I didn’t like communism in the first place,” Sun WooHyun replied without a hint of thought.

“Would you be able to abandon your ideal of communism?”

“I had been associated with the ideology of free will in the first place. It’s the reason why my father was politically murdered. I was tired of being kept under watch and suppression.”

Sun WooHyun realized that this was an important moment in determining whether he could be part of Black Mamba’s family or not. He tried his best, like the time he was interviewed for the officer position.

“There are a lot of problems in a free will society. It’s said that one can choose their lifestyle and position by will, but that’s not true. Some are born with a golden spoon in their mouth, while others are born sucking on their fingers. Equal competition doesn’t begin with the same shoes. It’s a world of hyenas and alligators, where the fittest survive. It’s a world where one will starve to death without a job. You, who’ve lived with equality, won’t understand how scary paying for your food is.”

“I need to work for my food if I want to be treated like a human. I’m going to be comrade Black Mamba’s servant and work for my food.”

“Servant! Why a servant?”

“Comrade Ombuti said a servant is like a family.”

Black Mamba turned and stared at Ombuti. Ombuti, who was listening in on their conversation, immediately pretended as though he was doing something else. He didn’t know Korean, but he was quick-witted enough to know what Sun WooHyun was trying to do.

“I don’t know you well. I’ve been educated in anti-communism and have deep roots with it. It’s hard to trust you despite our ethnicity. You don’t know me that well either. I’m not that great of a human to have someone be my servant.”

“Comrade Boss Black Mamba, no, comrade Wakil, I’ll just call you Wakil like Ombuti. I’ve lost all my connections because you made a mess and dragged me here. If you aren’t going to kill me, then you can use me like those water canteens you keep by your side. I’ll work for my food as I had promised.”

A smile rose on Black Mamba’s face.

Sun WooHyun was quick-witted but not hateful. He was also a good speaker. Well, what was the point of debating communism and democracy? It wasn’t worth a bullet in the savage Sahel, where ideals were murdered and killed. It wasn’t a place for ideals but humans. Luckily, ideals weren’t one of the many conditions of being a human.

“I’m sorry for calling you a lackey. I’ll call you officer Sun from now on.”

When Black Mamba got serious, Sun WooHyun shook his hands like a buzzing beagle’s tail.

“No, no. I like that name. Call me that.”

“I can’t. You’re at least two times older than me.”

“Two times!”

Sun WooHyun’s black, burnt face crumpled.

“What are you saying? I’m from the ’48 rat’s year.”

Black Mamba’s eyes grew wide. The man was older than him. The rat’s year meant that he was 34 years old.

“I was wondering why his physical and mental health was in great condition when he had an old face.”

Black Mamba blinked.

“Lackey, you need to serve Wakil well. Wakil isn’t someone you can measure and use. If you serve him well, you’ll become an important person too,” Ombuti interrupted, reading the mood.

A Korean warrior at Sun’s level was sufficient to help Wakil. He could serve his purpose by standing guard while his master slept.

“That damned old man with the wits of a ghost!”

Sun WooHyun shivered. The old man sent warnings that poked right at his innermost thoughts.

“Hah, fine.”

“I’m a noble of Imoharen and am 42.”

“Damn it. He’s telling me to crawl more fiercely than I’m supposed to.”

“Ugh, I get it.” Sun WooHyun’s sighs grew longer.

“Wakil is a precious being with the soul of the Azrael. Don’t even expect him to speak highly of you. If my master speaks highly of you, I’ll kill you.”

“Ok. Wakil, don’t you praise me. I don’t want to be shot by a veteran.”

Sun WooHyun smiled. He found Ombuti quite concerning and straightforward. The Tuareg veteran was easier to deal with than Black Mamba.

Sun WooHyun’s face grew brighter at the aspects of setting foot in Black Mamba’s circle. At the sight of Ombuti training the newbie, Black Mamba smiled.

The Captain looked at Black Mamba, who was returning to camp, as he had been unable to sleep. Ombuti was right behind him, and the lackey was carrying Black Mamba’s Dragunov behind Ombuti.

“So, the ranks were decided.”

The captain smiled amusingly.

“Black, how is your condition?”

“Fine.”

“We need to have a meeting.”

“A meeting? With who?”

The Captain’s face turned sour at Black Mamba’s question. He pointed at Black Mamba with his thumb and pointed to himself.

“Ha, there’s no one but me.”

His shoulders suddenly weighed down. He sighed and followed the Captain.

Currently, the Ratel team was in a bad situation. There weren’t enough people.

Bellman was suffering from hallucinations, Emil was wrapped in bandages after being beaten up by Black Mamba, Jang Shin was suffering from diarrhea, and Pieff could barely move. On the other hand, Centienne, Maxim, Valboir, and Bronin were suffering from depression and dysentery. There was nothing like a field medical center compared to this.

The only people capable of fighting were the Captain, Black Mamba, and Sun WooHyun.

Stars that filled the sky and cold air greeted the humans the moment they left the tent. The border between Boruku province and Bata province was also the border of the Sahel belt. It was close to two to three degrees Celsius on the latitude, but the temperature turned colder instead.

The Captain collapsed onto a red-brown sedimentary rock.

“Sit.”

The Captain waved at the opposing rock.

“Black, I think we provoked the FROLINAT too much. Did we kill around 1,500 people? No, much more. We even killed Habib, so those old men must have had their rears twisted and tied.”

“They must think of us as weasels in a chicken coop.”

A weasel was more cruel and fiercer than a badger. Unlike other predators, it killed all the chickens in the coop upon invasion and would get away with one in its mouth.

“Those b*stards are closely observing our moving routes. If we don’t get out before the hammer and anvil becomes stronger, we’ll be killed like dogs.”

“I agree. It isn’t a problem that can be solved with the Moti tactic.”

The Captain nodded as he wore a tortured expression.

While a smart ally was hard to use, conversation flowed more smoothly. On the other hand, a stupid ally required time and effort to explain the pre and post consequences of a problem.

“I need to make a difficult request again. Hm…”

The Captain couldn’t talk. He was disgusted with himself for asking Black Mamba, who was still young, to cover himself in blood.

“Captain, there’s no need to stall. Didn’t you already make a decision? Before Black Mamba, I’m a second-rank private of team Ratel. The Captain makes the orders, and I follow. There’s no need for emotions now.”

The Captain stared silently at the Korean, who placed great restrictions on himself. It was an old face with kind eyes, which had long escaped the frame of youth. There wasn’t a sight of the Angel of Death or the nightmare of battlefields.

The seated posture opposite him was no different than those Parisian public school students. It made his heart twist. The greatest sacrifice of this plan was possibly, Black Mamba. A young man was spilling a substantial amount of blood due to the old men’s greed.

“Thanks. Time is not on our side. I need you to break through Berdalle, the front gate of Ati.”

“Kikali told me Abbas’ army and the north-eastern command post is in Berdalle. I don’t know its exact position. If I do, I can destroy it.”

Black Mamba had given up finding the position of the FROLINAT to give Habib to Ombuti. Back then, Black Mamba had already chosen Berdalle as their escape route. He’d left the decision to the team leader, the Captain.

“Wakil, Abbas’ army is located in Dombrey forest, near the Vir Wakiv wetlands. That is the north-eastern command post.”

Ombuti, who had returned with their tea, provided a piece of unexpected information. .

The Captain brightened up.

“How did you know?”

“I heard the information from my Ummah friends in Paya. Abbas is the Tuareg tribe’s betrayer. He attached himself to Habib and led the suppression of the Tuareg tribes.”