Chapter 404: Episode 27: Ituri, Fist of Justice

In early 1985, President Jeon Du Hwan visited President Bongo. In the 70s and 80s, North Korea and South Korea clung to third-world countries to gain at least one more vote from the United Nations. Jeon Du Hwan’s visit was also a ceremonial political visit to gain support.

The Korean diplomats, who participated in the president’s entourage, were contacted by the French Embassy during their stay and secured a seat in the Areva company’s Munana Uranium expedition team. The diplomatic team cheered for the sheer fortune that dropped out of nowhere.

Whether it’s an individual or a nation, there was always a reason behind a change in approach. Figuring out the reason helped to build relationships and gain greater profits. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a Bonipas in Korea. They couldn’t even guess that there was a Black Mamba behind the scenes, and the gift from the Gabon government was actually France’s gift, assuming that they achieved everything out of their own power.

The politicians and officials on the team began to boast about how they opened the door for nuclear plant construction and established a foothold for international cooperation. The media started talking about how President Bongo was impressed by President Jeon Du Hwan’s leadership and gave him a great gift.

Black Mamba laughed his head off and put the incident behind him. The Independence movement activists who lived 1,000s of miles away from Korea in different countries wouldn’t have gone through such struggles to become someone of importance during the Japanese colonial period. The government was full of politicians and idiots, but businesses tried their best to secure foreign resources. Like fuel, the uranium market expanded. 70 percent of the world’s uranium originated from Kazakhstan, Canada, and Australia. Africa’s Namibia and Central Africa were next in line.

Zaire was a country that was not as developed with a wide distribution of uranium mines. If there was someone smart in Jeon Du Hwan’s government, they would have recognized Zaire’s worth and dispatched an expedition team to look into it. Those assigned to the expedition must be patriots as they would have to work as hard as the Padok miners and construction workers in the Middle East. Although there was no difference to the worth of lives, he could do nothing about the instinct of favoring one over another.

“How many Koreans are there?”

“There were five, but two died, and three remain captive.”

“Oho, three!”

For some reason, he would meet someone of the same ethnicity every time there was an operation in Africa. He had crucial information in his hands, and there were three Koreans among the hostages. He grew anxious.

“Samedi, do you think we need those b*stards?”

Black Mamba pointed to Karungo.

“We don’t need foul-smelling weaklings. We only need the GPS and Pygmies. That b*stard Karungo also has the ability to bind people’s bodies. If he holds the guide as a hostage, we’ll be in trouble.”

Samedi expressed his disagreement. Although they stank, the b*stard could cast spells like priest Kran, bind people’s hands, and move fast like a leopard. He suffered trying to catch the guy alive. He would have killed the b*stard if it wasn’t for the information he had to gain. There was no reason for him to suffer by keeping the b*stard Vodou priest alive.

“Samedi, you’ve gotten a lot smarter.”

“Hehehe, I want to be smarter than master.”

Upon hearing the compliment, Samedi spoke shyly.

Scary b*stard!

Black Mamba broke out in cold sweat. There was a saying that naive ones were scarier, and it was true. The brat smiling before him was the same guy who searched the forest for 23 Damballa like he was catching mice. The cold-blooded killer instinct hidden behind that innocent smile spooked him. As Samedi said, there was no need to carry around a lump when they had the GPS and Kidamba.

Whoosh—

The Kukri left his hand.

Bang—

It pierced a major artery behind Karungo’s ear and flew out of the back of his neck. The blade, which dug diagonally, cut his motor nerves, sensory nerves, and spinal cord all at once. Karungo fell like a logged wood. It was instant death.

He could have killed the hostage without shedding a drop of blood, but he purposely made a show out of it. It was to stop Olonge and Kidamba from acting out.

Humans considered a firestick blade more dangerous than a gun. That was due to the difference between experience and reality. At some point, most got cut by a knife and never received a gunshot before. Guns were unfamiliar threats, while knives were familiar threats. Of course, they feared the knife more.

The more they were treated humanely, Kidamba and Olonge grew comfortable and acted as they pleased. Their scared and timid image disappeared over time, and they went off to catch animals and gather fruits on their own. Warnings were forgotten in a few hours. Their memory was no better than a chicken’s.

That could be a trait of the tribe members who didn’t know what a contract position was, and he understood that it was because of their free lifestyle, but he was running out of time. Still, with Black Mamba’s personality, he couldn’t threaten and hit the Pygmies. In the end, he had no choice but to be firm and control them with force once in a while.

Samedi immediately understood the reason why his master mercilessly killed the captives.

Bang—

The head of the Damballa soldiers, who received Samedi’s kick, exploded like a watermelon. It was the kind of performance that created an atmosphere of fear. Blood drained from Olonge and Kidamba’s black faces. They forgot how scary the great masters were.

Uhhhk!

Ulumbo tried his best to hold back his vomit. He feared the Vodun would slice his head off with that fearsome knife if he vomited.

“Bring the knife back!” Samedi growled like a male lion that had been starving for the past three days.

Ulumbo trembled as he translated. Olonge and Kidamba trembled too. The two Pygmies couldn’t even look at Samedi.

“Tsk!”

Mu Ssang clicked his tongue. Although he achieved his desired result, he disliked it when he had to control others with sheer power. In the end, the problem wasn’t the Pygmies but himself for binding the free-spirited Pygmies. Still, Black Mamba lacked many qualities to play the role of a villain.

“Ulumbo, if these corpses are left here, an epidemic will spread throughout the village. Abandon them outside the villages.”

“Yes, great master.”

There was obedience in Ulumbo’s reply.

“Meidaka Dropa!” Ulumbo shouted.

The Pygmy tribe members came out of hiding. Even the women and children rushed forward to drag the corpses back into the forest. The corpses were abandoned near a white ant’s house. The white ants were the best cleaners in the Ituri Rainforest. They ate uniforms and magazines and even used any remains available as materials to build their house.

Nature would take care of the corpses. Leopards and hyenas would gather at the smell of blood and enjoy the feast. Stray animals would dig into their bones, and the remains would be eaten by all kinds of parasites, bugs, and animals. The bearded vulture would collect the thick bones as materials to build its house. The traces of 44 members of Kamuge’s scout team would be erased in three days.

“Great master, you should take a break today and head out early tomorrow. The road toward Apadombe has streams tangled like spider webs and many swamps and muddy areas. The terrain is rough.”

Ulumbo, who was very scared, glanced at Samedi. Black Mamba looked at Ulumbo with his eyes wide open. It meant that the journey was about to get more troublesome. Was it just an appetizer up until now in Ituri? His head started throbbing.

“You coward, what’s so scary about those swamps and poisonous insects? Prepare to head off now.”

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Samedi, who misunderstood Black Mamba’s gaze, swung his backpack on. The face of Ulumbo, who was mentally exhausted, darkened. The sun would set soon. Although the Vodun didn’t care about the difference between night and day, what was he supposed to do?

“Let’s do that. There is no need to put our lives at stake for the 10-day deadline. Kamuge won’t be able to get rid of the hostages so easily.”

“Ok. Wakil is always right.”

Samedi didn’t argue and set up a tent and a hammock in the village’s clearing. Whatever his master said was right.

Black Mamba opened the satellite phone. He passed on the following information to Paul: the kidnappers were led by the Vodou priest Kamuge of the Hutu tribe’s armed forces from Rwanda, the progress of his decimation of Kamuge’s army in the Pygmy village, Karungo was no one but a mere faction leader who the DGSE thought was the leader of the kidnappers, and Kamuge’s army added up to around 500 people. The call ended. He still hadn’t revealed the fact that Apadombe, which they referred to as the holy place, was the kidnappers’ base.

“Wakil, the C-ration’s nearly out.”

Samedi, who finished setting up their camp, shook his backpack. It was true. Samedi’s backpack was much slimmer.

“Brat, just say you want to eat meat.”

“Hehe, the C-ration’s not good. Boar piglets are soft, and they don’t smell.”

Samedi scratched the back of his head. His sensitive hearing detected the sound of a boar and its young. He was suddenly in need of its soft meat and thick blood.

“There’s about five following its mother. I suppose that’s too much for the mother?” Black Mamba agreed.

He was sick of the C-ration, but they had to be set aside for emergencies. Although he prepared enough, as Samedi said, there wasn’t enough due to the sudden increase of members in their party.

“Samedi thinks so too. If there are too many of them, they won’t be able to grow up strong.”

The giant continued to make remarks about the boar’s family—remarks that the boar wouldn’t appreciate—and disappeared from the village like the wind. Samedi returned barely 10 minutes later. A boar that was too large to be called a piglet was tucked under his armpit. There were two bunches of bananas in his other hand.

Samedi glanced at Ulumbo and Kidamba. Black Mamba smirked and threw his Kukri to them.

“Do it yourself.”

Ulumbo, who farmed, didn’t know how to hunt. Olonge handled animals skillfully but was dirty. The Pygmies, regardless of age and gender, had severe skin diseases. No matter how hungry he was, he didn’t want to eat the food that the Pygmies prepared.

Samedi skillfully peeled off its hide and sliced its stomach open. He threw its heart and liver to Olonge and Kidamba, assembled his Squeaker, and pierced its body through the stick.

I must be mad.

Ulumbo, who was preparing the fire, trembled. Fear built up in him because the same weapon that sliced the Vodou believers’ necks and pierced their heads was now used to prepare food. The guy certainly wasn’t a human but a Vodun. He acted recklessly because the Mahabharata treated him kindly. Ulumbo started blowing on the fire frantically.

Night fell in the forest. Once the darkness settled, the air became more humid. Black Mamba filled his stomach with the boar meat that was cooking on top of the stone plate and went to sleep early.

The tent with the mosquito net was an excellent choice. A group of mosquitoes attached themselves to the net neatly. If it wasn’t for the net, they would have torn his skin to bits. He’d long abandoned the helmet-styled scarf. Its purpose was to block insects, but he couldn’t stand it in the humidity and high temperature.

The forest awakened. There was the sound of a leopard chasing after a monkey, the sound of chimpanzees fighting over territories, the sound of a yellow parrot’s flapping as an owl hunted it down, and the sound of a hyena’s cries similar to that of a madwoman’s laughter.

Kehihihi—

Hyenas lived everywhere in Africa. Hyenas lived in the Sahel’s deserted lands, the Bodélé Depression, and the Sahara desert. They also lived in the Ituri Rainforest without exception. Although tigers were graceful predators, they were on the verge of extinction due to the lack of suitable habitats. Hyenas were cursed out at every turn but existed everywhere, from the desert to the forest. It wasn’t about the strongest species surviving but the survivor’s strength. The Pygmy tribe was nearing their end too.

The Pygmies gathered in the center of the village as though the hyena’s cries were their signal. Nearly 100 tribe members sat in a circle around the fire.

Booooo—

An instrument that sounded like a bassoon played. It was a bamboo flute called luma that the Pygmies used during important rituals.

“Hoi hoi!” The women started crying.

It sounded like the cries one would hear at a funeral.

“Ku kuh!” The men cried along.

Their faint cries slowly grew louder. The cries of the hyena and humans combined created an unusual rhythm.

Their cries grew softer and louder following the luma’s sound and had a constant rhythm. The fire crackled and sent sparks into the night sky while the Pygmies’ eerie cries continued. An unknown instrument that occasionally rang loudly added to the sorrow.

The luma went from bass to alto. 100s of Pygmies spun and danced around the fire. Interval cries like “hihi hoho” were added, they rolled their feet and waved their hands back and forth, and they shook their butts enthusiastically. Their eyes, which reflected the fire’s light, sparkled in white. They were in a trance.

“Is this the Pygmies’ funeral ritual!”

Black Mamba, who woke up from his light sleep, turned. No matter how different their culture was, their rituals and core purpose weren’t all that different. It was still a ritual to send away the dead even if they were dancing strangely and screaming and not crying their hearts out.

The Pygmies gave birth to many children. The bride’s worth was determined by her ability to give birth to many children. No matter how conservatively one calculated, 70 families were equivalent to 400 villagers. 300 people were taken by Kamuge’s army or murdered. Everyone must have lost someone important to them.

The funeral ritual continued until the moon, which lit the clearing, disappeared beyond the dark forest.

Booooo—

With the luma’s long note, their cries and dance came to an end. The darkness, heavy silence, and the cries of the hyena visited the Pygmy village once more.

“Les Misérables!”

Black Mamba mumbled as he turned around again. They were pitiful people. The Damballa, who was misled by a cult religion and held a carnival after killing the Pygmies, was pitiful. The Pygmy tribe, who was sending away the dead and didn’t have much desire for revenge, was also pitiful. The Areva company’s expedition team was pitiful for encountering a cult, and he was also pitiful because he kept tossing and turning, unable to sleep in a forest 200 or so miles away from home.

“All shall come to pass!” He heard Samedi mumbling behind him.

Black Mamba smiled unintentionally and went to sleep.

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