Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 150: The Returning Battle


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Black Mamba released two grenades without their safety pin by his feet and disappeared without a sound.

Bang—

Explosions and shouts could be heard as chaos reared its head behind him.

“Hassan, that idiot, is he conducting or not?”

Abbas felt his insides burn black. Over 250 people had rushed into the forest. There was no officer who didn’t know of the Kanma’s mercenary unit, and how few they were in number.

They were a regiment with two heavy weapons, RPGs and machine guns.They could demolish a unit easily with a spit. However, the battle he’d thought would end with an advance didn’t finish after 15 minutes had passed.

“Kidili, I will cut your head off if you don’t work properly.”

He roasted the faultless field artillery commander, but there wasn’t anything the launchers could do. There was no way for them to tell where the enemy was, in that large forest. They were launching shells at a whim, as they were ordered to, with barely any specifications.

“Take all the mortars and go to the forest.”

“Commander, we can’t observe anything from within the forest.”

“Hm!”

It was true. Mortars from 30 years ago, which didn’t have a separate observation tool, were used. It was useless in a forest that blocked the view.

“The first and back guard posts must have been done in, right?”

“He’s the Kanma.”

That was enough of an answer.

Like sparks produced between two stones, an attack with chilling precision, impact, and killings, coupled with untraceable retreats, all pointed to the Kanma’s specialty. Any units that went against the Kanma didn’t suffer from military annihilation but biological demolition. There wasn’t a chance that the posts survived.

“That cursed b*stard, I can’t accept it.”

“Commander, we may have suffered, but this is a good opportunity. If we catch the Kanma, you could be the next Habib.”

Abbas shook his head at his officer’s encouragement.

“That b*stard’s an impossible existence. All the commanders who went against him lost their lives. Even Grace Habib was defeated. He’s not human but a devil.”

Abbas went through a round of shivers. His fear against the Kanma and the immense rewards he’d gain from killing him bounced around his head, messing it up.

“There are over 250 warriors who went ahead. You could send out the tanks. Even with the Kanma’s fearsome presence, he won’t be able to go against a tank.”

“I was about to do that anyway. Officer, send out the tanks. I’ll be on number one myself. I’m going to die of frustration, otherwise.”

Vrrooom—

Two T-34’s began to emit immense amounts of smoke.

“Kidili, take the subordinates and enter the forest. Activate all the booby traps and reinforce them with gunpowder. Show him the ability of the Tuareg tribe.”

“But, the chances of the soldiers getting sacrificed is higher.”

“You s***. We can always get more soldiers. If we ax down a few in a village, others are bound to follow. I can sacrifice all of my subordinates if it means killing the Kanma.”

Abbas’ eyes glared.

“Yes, understood.”

Major Kidili led his subordinates into the forest at a run. Abbas boarded the tank.

“It’s the Kanma, he’s there!” a soldier shouted at the sight of moving grass.

Tutatatata—

Bullets poured all over the place the soldier indicated.

Crack—

A wooden piece was embedded into the soldier’s head. The piece had flown in from the other side. Surprised, the guerrillas turned back and poured on another hail of bullets. Black Mamba, who used the fearless steps, had already moved 50 meters out of range and was pouring bullets onto another group of guerrillas. The innocent thorn tree that Black Mamba was hiding in was ripped apart by the bullets.

“Eep, the Kanma.”

When Black Mamba disappeared with a flash, the guerrillas stared and followed his movement with blank expressions.

Black Mamba moved around the battlefield at a fearful speed as he used the fearless steps.

Bang bang bang—

The Pamus released bullets in two taps per second. Black Mamba, who had wiped out one strategic group, flashed and disappeared.

“Five in thirty meters, five in fifty meters, they don’t learn, do they?”

It was the bait strategy the FROLINAT often used. It was a plan that pushed their comrades to be bait, aiming for a counter the moment an attack came in. The luring part to capture was understandable, but the baiting tactic didn’t work at all.

Black Mamba was able to sense a human’s presence with his nose and ears, within the range of an AK gun. Once they entered the 100 meters range, he could note the numbers and distance accurately. The sewage smell of guerrillas who hadn’t washed filled his nose, and their heavy footsteps rang in his ears. He knew, even if he didn’t want to. There was nothing he could say about their smell since he smelled as bad.

Humans, unlike animals, relied heavily on their sight. 90 percent of outside information was gained through sight. No wonder people said that one’s eyes were an extension of one’s brain.

Predators like tigers relied strongly on smell and sound, rather than sight. During the night, their reliance on sight reached 20 percent. Black Mamba’s senses were similar to a predator’s. A battle within the forest was limited to sight. Overall, it was more advantageous for Black Mamba.

Ten guerrillas were approached. They were in a guarding formation, where five remained 30 meters back from the first five, using the distance as a cover. Black Mamba, who was on the ground, sank into it without a sound. It was one of the functions of resonance waves he’d found recently.

The guerrillas walked past Black Mamba, who’d become one with the ground. Black Mamba was a god-level sniper who could control his farts, coughs, and liver movements, even without the skill to become one with nature. The ending had already been determined for those who could be seen and those who couldn’t.

Black Mamba’s body slid upright once the cover squad went by.

Pip pip pip—

The objects that left his hand reflected the light. It was the small AK bullets he’d gained from a dead guerrilla. The bullets that flew in a row successfully pierced the main artery behind their neck.

A bullet with a sharp end was a superb silent weapon. The guerrillas who had their necks pierced let out gurgling noises, before croaking over like empty sacks. They became the first humans to lose their lives to a hand-thrown bullet.

Tap—

Black Mamba kicked off the ground and held onto an acacia tree branch. He twirled and landed on the branch. His Pamus exuded fire without rest.

Papapa—

The short screams of another strategic unit under fire rang throughout the forest.

The guerrillas shared similar reactions. Bullets poured, and RPGs flew. Innocent acacia trees were shattered. Trees which the RPG warheads landed on were uprooted, and its roots covered the sky. Black Mamba’s uniform was ripped in several places due to the flying flints and pieces.

The battle didn’t end easily.

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Black Mamba got rid of them in herds, but there were too many from Abbas’ army that entered Dombrey forest. The FROLINAT didn’t give up despite the unit officer’s screams or their crazed minds from eating jenkem. Blood flowed like a river between the clash of two ill intents.

“Damn it, can’t this get anymore quiet!”

Black Mamba shook his Pamus and complained. Although the silenced Pamus wasn’t as loud as a Dragunov, its sonic boom was uncontrollable. The sound of its boom was louder than a normal conversation. Countering bullets flew in every time he shot, as cover activities were hard to accomplish. He began to doubt the effectiveness of using a silencer.

Since the beginning of the battle, 30 minutes had passed.

At the point where he’d wiped out half of the deployed soldiers, Black Mamba went to look for the prey himself. The FROLINAT who had been hunting Black Mamba were being hunted in return. As time passed, Dombrey forest was charged with more blood lust and madness while explosions and gunshots rang more fiercely.

Seven guerrillas gathered underneath a eucalyptus tree with pale faces. Three comrades suddenly died from thrown rocks, causing their heads to explode. The rocks had shattered their heads without premonition, as though it had fallen from the sky.

“It’s the Kanma!”

“Are we all dead?”

The guerrilla wept as he held onto the gun that was taller than him.

“We’re all going to die. He shattered their heads to drink their brain fluids, didn’t he?”

“Should we run?”

“Tubilis will cut our necks off.”

“You little s***s, shut up.”

The older guerrilla who was standing behind them glared.

Crack—

“Ahh!”

The head of the man who was talking, exploded. A shout could be heard from another guerrilla. It wasn’t simply shattering a head, but piercing and embedding the rock into the head. The body twirled from the kinetic energy and collapsed. White brain fluids dripped out of the side of his shattered head.

The guerrillas, who were surprised by the eerie death, didn’t dare to raise their guns. Surprised, some even leaked yellow water from between their legs.

“Aaaah, the Kanma!”

“The officer was done in!”

Crack—

Crack—

The rocks kept flying. Following that, two old soldiers fell to the ground, and their brain fluids dripped out. The rest fell into static shock.

“Herium bel-lily haish.”[1]

It was one of the few Arabic phrases that Black Mamba knew.

“Aaaaah!”

The surviving teenage soldiers threw down their guns and ran in the opposite direction of the command post. Fortunately, they hadn’t consumed jenkem.

Sensing a presence, Black Mamba jumped up the tree and concealed himself in surprise. The forest, which allowed him to move in all directions, enhanced his battle abilities. He looked down on the unfortunate foot soldiers who were moving in a ready position. From their small frame, they were probably teenage soldiers.

He had already used up 20 needles and 10 darts.

He sliced off an acacia branch with his Kukri and sharpened it to the length of his palm. The ends of the wooden spike he’d sliced horizontally was usable.

“The one at the back should be the overseer.”

He couldn’t tell whether they’d consumed jenkem, but the reason behind the young soldiers’ fierce attacks was their leader.

Shik—

The wooden spike, which flew like an arrow, pierced the last guerrilla’s shoulder horizontally.

“Aaargh!”

The wooden spike buried deep inside his bone, leaving its edge out. He had thrown it against a non-lethal part with precise strength control so that its end could be seen. He’d done it to create fear. He’d only made it so that the guerrilla wouldn’t die immediately from injured lungs, but it wasn’t a survivable wound.

The attacked guerrilla rolled on the ground with anguished screams.

“Ten-na Kanma. Herium bel-lily haish.”[2]

“Uwa, it’s the Kanma!”

The young soldiers scattered like spiderlings without a hint of resistance. A faint smile rose on Black Mamba’s face. It was as he had thought.

They would become another threat if they joined another army, but an enemy without fighting spirit was no longer threatening. It was a tainted battle between greedy old men. He didn’t want to kill young soldiers, if it was possible.

Another group went past the tree. This time, all five of them were adults. A black shadow fell from the tree. He added additional weight to the pull of gravity and stepped on a man’s head.

“Gaaah!”

A human’s spine cannot withstand 2,000 kilograms by structure. A strange sight of a skull cracking down on its cervical and vertebra occurred, embedding itself on the upper body.

Wooden spikes flew at the guerrillas, who turned toward the direction of the scream. The attacker disappeared, even before the human hedgehogs crashed to the floor.

From Pamus, Glocks, Kukri, wood, stones to bees of the forest, they were weaponized. Endless types of weapons created a hurricane of blood, depending on the situation and location.

Superiority in numbers was a lost deal. The soldiers of Abbas’ army were unable to catch the shadow of Black Mamba, who moved like a puma and hid like a snake. Vigour left the battlefield, and fear abounded.

“Did the lackey roast the claymores to eat?”

Only two of the six claymores had gone off. Two more should have gone off as they were installed together, but there was nothing.

“Hasn’t he finished mixing them up?”

Black Mamba was forced into submission during the entire time of his stay at his uncle’s house. He didn’t want another person’s submission.

The relationship he wanted for himself was an external relationship Hegel had explained. He wanted coexistence where both could remain themselves, but with an alpha leading. The main reason why he sent Hae Young away was that he decided there was no alpha between them.

The reason why he didn’t like Ombuti’s loyalty was similar. He wanted coexistence where both could display their uniqueness. On the other hand, Sun WooHyun was too independent.

Vrooom—

The sound of a moving, unrestricted vehicle shook the forest.

[1] “Run if you want to live.”

[2] “I’m the Kanma. Run if you want to live.”

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