Mercenary Black Mamba

He compressed the air with his resonance waves to block the blood vessels and prevent bleeding. It was hard to control and stop bleeding during surgery, even with modern medicine. Although blood vessels were tied with forceps or hemostatic agents and compression methods were used, blood transfusion was required to complete the procedure. Black Mamba's approach of blocking blood vessels with compressed air would usher in a new era of surgical operations.

Black Mamba's hands got busy. A lot of mental power was consumed to compress the air with resonance waves, to the point that his head started buzzing. He wouldn't be able to last five minutes.

The surgery proceeded rather roughly. He shoved his fingers into the opening of the man's muscles and raised the broken rib to connect the fractured segments. With a dislocated bone segment, applying a sudden sharp force could accidentally damage the veins, nerves, muscles, and surrounding soft tissues.

Ugh, why is this happening? Now, I'm acting like a quack on top of a cult leader.

His specialty was murder, not to rescue people. Black Mamba grew nervous despite the assistance of his dimensional sight. His rough and inexperienced movements irritated the dislocated bones.

Grrrk—

Crack crack—

Professor Orifice and Professor Shernion trembled at the sound of bones joining.

"Shernion, can I believe what I'm seeing? There's not a single drop of blood."

"I can't believe it even when I'm witnessing it myself. No wonder manager Ariba forced us to sign the confidentiality documents…"

"God, Professor Eco from the Cardiothoracic surgery department should see this."

"He would be frothing at the mouth, what else?"

Two broken ribs returned to their original positions while Professor Orifice and Professor Shernion whispered away.

"Suture!"

Aishe pulled out a needle and thread from her first-aid bag. He had learned how to sew since he was nine years old. Suturing a wound was no different than sewing clothes. The only difference was the type of needles used—straight or curved. He sprinkled the zeolite powder well over the sutured wound and released his resonance waves. The blood that flowed out of the man's wound turned into gel. The patient's irregular breathing stabilized. Black Mamba sighed in relief, as one emergency had passed.

"Aishe, is there anything that can replace casts?"

"Can't we support his chest and back using the gun barrel and wrap it with bandages?"

Aishe recalled her experiences as a former guerilla while bandaging the man's injured shoulder.

"What? Even a healthy rib won't be able to stand the weight of a gun barrel."

Black Mamba stood up. There were rocks and sand, but not a single tree around. The Jeep entered his sight.

"Well, something should work."

He sliced out the rear fender with his Vajra. Taking out the front fender would allow sand to enter the car's engine. When he pressed down the metal plate with his billion's water armor, the bent wrinkles smoothed out. He measured the metal plate against his chest before cutting out the measurements. He tapped the sliced metal plate several times to thin it out. He started adding intricate curves and edges.

Professor Orifice and Professor Shernion looked on at the extraordinary work in progress. Black Mamba held the improvised metal plate that was modeled after his chest and rushed toward the patient.

"Huh. Should I believe what I just saw? Is he even human?" Professor Orifice's mouth dropped wide open. It was fortunate that there weren't any flies or bugs around at dawn.

"He'll have to survive with one arm. How unfortunate." Aishe worried for the patient.

Shoulder bones were thinner than what people expected. Compound fractures occurred with the impact of a large-caliber bullet. If it wasn't treated in time, the shoulder would never recover.

"It's not that bad. The bullet is lodged in his bone, fortunately," Black Mamba spoke as though it was not a big deal after checking the bullet wound with his dimensional sight.

By removing the foreign cavitations and bullet, the wound could heal naturally. Of course, the injury was not considered a big deal by his own standards. Black Mamba put pressure on the blood vessels with his resonance waves and went immediately to work.

"Forceps!"

The forceps dug right into the wound. Professor Orifice flinched at the rough handling. The forceps pulled out a bullet with a burnt black tip. Aishe sprayed the disinfectant, sprinkled a lot more zeolite powder, then bandaged the wound.

"Aishe, inject him with a tetanus shot."

Sweat was dripping down Black Mamba's forehead. Aishe immediately wiped off the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

"Ugh, look at all this sweat. This man's alive because he met you, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa. Maybe he saved a village in his past life," Aishe babbled on.

She thought it was pitiful that Ddu-bai-buru-pa was sweating because of a stranger.

"Phew…"

The group who'd been holding their breaths exhaled in unison.

"What do you think? The stitching could be better, but this much should be enough for him to feed himself, right?" Black Mamba rambled on as the uneasiness began to fade out.

For the first time, he had saved a life on the brink of death with his abilities. He felt proud of himself.

"May Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa be praised! It is amazing. All the well-known surgeons of Shamu will starve at this rate."

"You'll earn a lot of money if you decide to practice medicine."

"Hire me as your nurse. I feel like I'll do nothing but play around."

The five Syrians' faces beamed. Of course, that made sense. With no medical tools, Black Mamba had provided necessary treatment instead of temporary relief. Jamal and the rest, who had witnessed a real miracle, were bound to be ecstatic.

Professor Orifice and Professor Shernion stared at one another.

"Shernion, such a person exists in this world. I doubted my own eyes when he made a cast out of the rear fender he tore off."

"Not only is he talented, but he's also a person with a warm heart. Let's pretend the things we saw never happened. That's what he would want too."

"What else? It's a world where even scholars use their abilities to cheat people of their money and then make it public. That guy's the real deal here."

"I'm starting to like this Ddu-bai-buru-pa. The name just rolls off the tongue."

Professor Orifice felt his heart warm. The man's unexplained mysterious ability was secondary. However, the man's consideration for other people's lives and sincerity was what moved his heart. There was a reason why the man received absolute trust and loyalty despite his young age.

The Ombuti virus had instantly and unknowingly influenced Professor Orifice and Professor Shernion. They slapped Black Mamba's shoulder and pounded his back as though they had been friends for a decade.

"Amazing. Ariba calls you the Angel of Death, but it seems like you're the Angel of Blessings instead."

"Ddu-bai-buru-pa, let's remain friends. I want to see what other miracles my friend has up his sleeves."

"Okay. No idiot would refuse to be friends with PhD holders from the Grande École. It'd be an honor." Black Mamba smiled.

He liked these middle-aged men who were laid-back and unpretentious.

"Look at that, these friends are punishing master," Aishe whispered into Ahmad's ear.

"Kekeke! Let's just say they're platonic friends." Ahmad laughed softly.

"Punish" was a hilarious word to describe their master's situation. Who could punish Ddu-bai-buru-pa! It was impossible. As a servant, he felt proud to serve a just master.

"Ibrahim, this person was attacked by robbers. We should raise our guard."

"Is there a need? Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa's with us," Jamal drawled at Aishe's suggestion.

"We should do our jobs ourselves. I heard that the caravans in the Sahara were attacked by many robbers for a while. The remnants of the FROLINATs who Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa destroyed would have become robbers by now. It's obvious what those b*stards would do since they're accustomed to shooting." Ibrahim agreed with Aishe.

"According to sir Ombuti, there are over 100,000 FROLINATs. Chad will be loud for a while."

"Wait, the robbers are coming over themselves."

An eerie smile appeared on Black Mamba's face. The wind carried over the sound of running camels, the smell of gunpowder, and the foul odor coming from the people living in the desert.

"How many are there?"

"They're three kilometers away from the north-west. About 40 to 50 people are heading over here."

"It's too late to avoid them then."

"Right. They're probably tracking this man down."

"These unlucky b*stards!" Ibrahim clicked his tongue.

Most likely, the robbers couldn't give up the 10 camels. Their greed had ultimately given them a ticket straight to Hell.

"We'll take care of them, sir," Jamal said as he jammed a magazine into his Barrett.

"I trust all of you, but the difference in number may result in an unexpected casualty. I don't want to piece back my family's bones and stitch back their skin."

Black Mamba took out a Dragunov from his backpack.

Clack—

Clack clack—

He assembled the gun barrel, body, scope, and magazine in a single breath.

"Hu…" A strange groan was heard from Jamal as he slung the Barrett over his shoulder.

Jamal had witnessed Black Mamba's god-level sniping several times. Ddu-bai-buru-pa was someone who had wiped out 1,000s of people in Kaparja Valley. Once he held the Dragunov, be it 40 or 400 people, they were all bound to go to Hell.

"We should greet our guests upon their arrival."

Whoosh—

Black Mamba disappeared. Five seconds later, he appeared at a sniping point 100 meters away.

"You don't need to help him?" Professor Orifice asked, worried.

Professor Shernion's expression grew stiff too. The group of Sahara robbers he'd only heard of made their appearance. He found the guard leaders' composure rather unsettling.

"Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa is the Mahdi," Jamal said as though it was an obvious fact, like how there were four legs to a table.

"Huh, there seems to be a lot in number. Do you think he will be okay?"

"You'll know, professor. Just keep watching." Ibrahim smiled widely.

The clouds hanging over the eastern horizon turned light orange. The cold left, and the howling wind calmed down. Black Mamba buried his body halfway into the sniping point and glared at what's ahead of him.

Like a bunch of hay thrown across a threshing yard, there was an endless field of reflective sand with sparse grass. He could see a herd of camels moving along a red-brown sandstone column, which looked like the colonnades of a temple. At a distance of 1,000 meters, Black Mamba stared coldly at the group of robbers who were closing in. Litham covered the robbers' faces, and they were armed with rifles and RPG-7s.

The group of robbers was referred to as the fear of the desert. Black Mamba couldn't find a reason to let them live. A dry gunshot rang as soon as he saw the camels' eyelashes. The person on the last camel had his head blown apart.

Clang clang clang—

Clang clang clang—

Three consecutive shots rang. It was the three-tap firing sequence skill that only Black Mamba was capable of.

Black Mamba could clear one and a half exposed moving targets per second with his sniping ability. From the back, the robbers falling off their camels looked like dominos. By the time those at the front realized they were being targeted, over half of them had been wiped out.

"There's a sniper!"

"Scatter!"

The robbers shouted, but they couldn't see Black Mamba firing away from 600 meters beyond. Several remaining robbers had scattered and fled. The unforgiving bullets chased after and shattered their heads from the back like watermelons exploding. The last surviving robber dropped his gun. With cavitation on his wrist, he couldn't hold onto the gun any longer. Soon, blood splattered from both of his ankles. The gunshots stopped in 40 seconds.

"How simple! Those pitiful b*stards, kekeke." Jamal laughed once the gunshots stopped.

"Wasn't that too fast? There wasn't even a single counterattack."

Ibrahim worried about close combat. It would take too long to fight if the enemy chose to hide instead.

"At least 50 shots were heard. Master is someone who doesn't waste a single bullet. Ahmad, take care of those who are still alive. Master must have left at least one around."

"I'll administer first aid before they die." Ahmad disappeared immediately.

"Jamal, what happened?" Professor Orifice asked Jamal. He looked very nervous.

"Master treats humans like humans, and animals like animals," Jamal spoke in riddles.

"Ha, well, I see there's nothing more but a cult leader here. I shall not interfere at all." Professor Orifice clicked his tongue and stopped talking.

"Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa is coming."

Ibrahim pointed to his right. Black Mamba was walking over with the Dragunov slung over his shoulder.

"He doesn't look that happy." Aishe frowned, leaving creases on her forehead.

That swagger only appeared when he wasn't happy. Black Mamba was definitely unhappy. Although he was used to killing, he was never emotionally detached.

"There were 42. I left one alive."

"Ahmad went to get him."

"Get ready to depart. This guy's still not awake. Do you think we gave him too much morphine?" Black Mamba looked down at the patient.

Jamal checked the patient's pulse and breathing.

"It's because of the bleeding. His condition isn't serious. He'll wake up by the time we reach Navar."

"Sergeant, how much time do we have left until we reach Navar?" Black Mamba asked the mercenary.

"Around 35 kilometers, sir."

"We're almost there. Leave the patient on my seat."

"No, sir! I'll get down. I need to drag the camels over anyway." Jamal jumped from his seat.

He couldn't let a stranger take his master's seat.

"If we're going to help, we should help until the end. Buddha said those who want to help should help with everything they have." Black Mamba jumped onto the leading camel's back.

"Start!"

Dududu—

Once the leading camel started running, the rest of the camels followed.

"Ugh, what should I do about this?" Jamal hovered around him like an ant without antennae.

"Whoo, he cleans up well too," Ahmad whispered.

All of them had their heads shattered. Dozens of people with white fluids leaking from their brains were scattered here and there.

Over 40 camels, which the robbers had ridden on, wandered around the scene. This meant that the robbers couldn't shoot a single bullet or let out a scream. Although camels were sensitive to sound and light, it wasn't the case for smell and shock.

Ahmad found the target easily. The b*stard whose head was still intact was the only survivor.

"Oi, you between the corpses, come out!"

There was only silence.

"If you don't come out, I'll have your head smashed too."

Clack—

Ahmad pulled the slide.

"Ankhad-ni! Ankhad-ni!"[1]

[1] "Save me! Save me!"