Mercenary Black Mamba

African wasps, regardless of species, all had a nasty temper. When provoked, they became more tenacious and would track one down for over 1,000s of kilometers, and when attacked, they retaliated in groups. In particular, general hornets would rush at their opponent with all their might upon the death of their kind. There was no way that the general hornets would stay still when their nests were attacked.

"Avoid them! Cover yourselves with the tarp!"

"Caporal, the flamethrower!"

"It's not ready yet!"

"The CO2 compressor machine?"

"It's not ready yet!"

"Damn it!"

"Agh!"

There were shouts and screams everywhere. General hornets were scary because of their deadly sting and persistent aggression, which matched their size. Mercenaries who couldn't cover themselves with a tarp crawled underneath the cars. Ants and bees didn't like the smell of oil.

The mercenaries, who couldn't escape in time, took off their combat jackets and swung them. The remaining few, who couldn't do anything, ran as though their lives depended on it.

Vvvvv—

A small group of bombers chased after them.

"S***, what a loud welcome."

Black Mamba slapped away the few that rushed at him and sprang to his feet. If 100s of 1,000,000s of general hornets rushed at them, 30 to 40 people would easily be wiped out.

"The first Legion Etranger troop to be defeated by general hornets! Oh, dear. While the wasps are pitiful, it's not like I can ignore the lives of humans. Namu Amita Bul!"

Black Mamba acted like he was praying while he pulled Rakshasa's handle from the lower compartment of his backpack where it was stored.

Voom—

A large whip with its 10-meter long thong swung in the air.

Bang—

A great amount of power and resonance entered the whip. The atmosphere shook like branches in the wind following the movements of the Rakshasa's thong.

The greater the centrifugal force, the greater the acceleration. A huge man-made tornado was created.

Vvvv—

The group of wasps hesitated at the sound of 1,000,000s of dragonflies flying. A black tornado attacked the general hornets.

Tatatatata—

The sound of popping kernels was deafening. The general hornets, which were sucked into the black tornado, started dropping on the floor like rain. The tornado moved along the road after wiping out all the wasps above the cars. The Rakshasa's tornado sucked in the wasps that were chasing the mercenaries. Crushed remains followed the tornado's path. The few of them that survived immediately flew away.

"Oooooo…"

A long howl sounded. A powerful low-frequency sound with resonance pushed the air. Scared, the general hornets disappeared.

Upon completing its job, the Rakshasa disappeared into his backpack. His first greeting was with the general hornets in the forest of East Africa. To chase away the general hornets, his finest weapon, Rakshasa, was revealed to the world.

To the general hornets, that was unfair. The humans provoked their nests first. All they were trying to do was protect their larvae and eggs.

"Samedi, what are you doing?"

"Wakil, this tastes good."

Samedi pulled off the wings of a general hornet and shoved them into his mouth. His big palm was full of twitching general hornets. They weren't those that the Rakshasa wiped out but those that Samedi caught as snacks.

"Doesn't it hurt when they sting?"

"It doesn't even tickle."

Well, would general hornets pose any threat to a former zombie?

Hah, that brat's the highest-ranking predator on the food chain. Well, what can't a zombie eat? Black Mamba exclaimed silently.

The general hornet's sting, which drove away even their natural enemy, honey badgers, was useless against Samedi. A real poisonous plant accumulated poison by eating other poisonous plants. He drew up a ridiculous image of Samedi breathing out poison.

The screaming and shouting ceased. Only the sound of colobus monkeys filled the air. The mercenaries who went into hiding started crawling out. The mercenaries didn't know what had happened as they had been running around everywhere.

It took only 20 seconds for Black Mamba to take out his Rakshasa and wipe out the general hornets. The only people who witnessed everything were Samedi and Paul.

"What the hell?"

The remains of the general hornets that had been relentlessly attacking were scattered all over the floor. The mercenaries, who didn't know anything, stood there in bewilderment.

"Who sprayed the compressed CO2?"

"Captain must have sprayed the insecticide."

"Idiot, can't you see that their head, body, and wings are all broken?"

"By luck, a tornado must have passed by."

While it sounded ridiculous, the answer was almost accurate.

"Who the hell are you? Are you really Black?" Paul said in a daze.

"Paul, a warrior goes through changes in a day. It's already been two years." Black Mamba smiled widely.

Paul had the right to be surprised. Compared to the time they were operating in the Sahel, he had matured and made remarkable progress.

"Damn, changes in a day? Then, what am I, with my stiff muscles and aching bones every day!"

Paul's shoulders drooped.

"Paul, this isn't the time to act pitiful. Those guys are general hornets."

"Ah, medics!"

Surprised, Paul called the medics. There could be casualties if antihistamine shots were delayed.

"Oui!"

"How many were stung?"

"Seven, sir. Kandinski and Burrak are severely affected."

"Idiots, some Legion Etrangers, passing out from a mere wasp sting." Paul snorted.

He didn't get to brag when Black Mamba's protection kept him in one piece.

"Paul, we should hurry if you want to save them."

Paul immediately understood.

"First Lieutenant, lead the team and go back. If you can't find a second route, return in 10 minutes."

"Oui!"

The cars turned back, raising dust.

"Samedi, get rid of it."

"Okay."

Samedi put his machine gun down. He took out a gruesome-looking iron plate and disassembled sticks from his backpack. A big shovel with a total length of 2.4 meters attached to a 0.5-meter long blade made its appearance in the world.

"Wh… what is that?"

Paul's eyes widened. He had never seen a peculiar-looking ax, no, shovel before.

"Wooo!"

Samedi raised Squeaker in the air and rushed toward the limbali tree.

Whoosh—

The shovel flashed. The branches that were as thick as the waist of a woman who gave birth several times were sliced off.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh—

The shovel continued to swing without any interval. The limbali branches that were blocking the road disappeared, leaving behind only the trunk.

Crack—

Crack—

Crack—

The trunk suffered deep cuts from the blade that attacked its left and right. It was the strange harmony of kinetic and potential energy. The large trunk that two men couldn't hold was sliced off instantly.

"Woooaaaaa!"

Samedi grabbed a corner of the sliced trunk and squeezed his muscles.

Bang—

The limbali trunk rolled down the cliff edge next to the road. The strong woodsman finished his work in five minutes.

"Hihihi! Squeaker's useful."

Samedi turned to look at Black Mamba and smiled widely, revealing his white teeth.

"Uuhhh!"

Paul's mouth dropped open. That guy wasn't human. He felt a déjà vu and was reminded of that person called Ocelot, who took Burimer's life at a hotel in Faya. Paul's face grew tense. He could understand why Black Mamba didn't want his subordinates to see him.

"Black, can you control that guy?"

"Don't worry."

"That's a relief."

Paul nodded at Black Mamba's reassurance. The trust of everyone he knew combined didn't amount to a single word from Black Mamba. That was why he didn't call any other skilled mercenaries because he could trust his subordinate.

Vroom—

First Lieutenant Kuach, who went looking for a roundabout route, returned.

"Captain, the route… what!"

Kuach's mouth dropped open. The sight before him was clear. The large tree that blocked the road disappeared. Kuach rushed forward to check the scene. The thick branches and rootless trunk had rolled down the cliff outside the road.

"Captain, what happened here?"

"What?"

"The tree that blocked the road! Can't you see that?"

Kuach pointed at the tree with his finger.

"The wind blew it away."

"The wind?"

First Lieutenant Kuach's face creased devilishly at his nonchalant reply.

"Now… Let's go!"

Paul wasn't considerate enough to answer First Lieutenant Kuach's question. The vehicle procession continued on the rugged road again. The mercenaries who suffered one defeat fell silent. All of them couldn't help but feel depressed because they were down by two coworkers. Non-combat losses were more demoralizing than combat losses.

Even their guide, Ulumbo, grew miserable. He initially volunteered at the prospect of earning 1,000 francs, but what was the point of 1,000 francs if he's dead? Without rest, he whispered spells to ward off evil spirits.

Their procession continued at the same speed. When the vehicles fell into a pit, they all got off to push and pull it out, used their shovels to fill the roads with water-filled furrows, and swept away the rocks on the road. The humid climate caused one to sweat even while standing still. Soon, the mercenaries were covered in sweat and dirt. Meanwhile, Black Mamba and Samedi didn't even lift a finger.

"This isn't easy. The Sahel was much better," Paul, who was tired of it all, complained while shaking off the dust from his hair.

White dust flew.

"My words exactly!"

The ergs and hamadas in the Sahel were not heavily roadbound. He could drive as much as he wanted with off-road vehicles. The forest, however, stopped one from moving at all once off-road. The terrain was rugged, and most of the time, there was no way to get around the rocky and wooded slopes.

"If someone asks me the difference between heaven and hell, I'm going to say a paved and an unpaved road."

"Yes, my words exactly!" Black Mamba agreed.

"Although I'm not feeling the aesthetics, the engine's amazing." Black Mamba said, pounding on the dashboard.

"Renault produces tank power packs. While the engine is loud, it has good power. That b*stard's big."

Bang bang—

Paul fired warning shots at it with a FAMAS.

Uoo—

The silverback that had been sitting on the side of the road jumped to its feet and disappeared. It had not experienced the fear of humans yet.

Despite the poor conditions, the vehicles headed north at an alarming speed of 30 kilometers per hour. With a powerful engine and a sturdy body alongside the devoted crews' hard work, the soldiers overcame Zaire's heinous lack of capital for infrastructure.

Despite the midday heat, the group settled near Mutwanga, west of the Rwenzori Mountains. Mercenaries of the 13th Regiment shouted "No problem" out of sheer stubbornness, but Paul chose to set up camp. His men were humans and not monsters like Black Mamba. He wasn't Hannibal or Napoleon either. It was impossible to drag his tired subordinates through Rwenzori, which was 3,000 meters to 5,000 meters above sea level.

The exhausted mercenaries scattered around as soon as the rest order was issued. The 13th Legion Etranger camp was stationed in Djibouti. When else would they experience the forest?

"Are you all mad? Get up, now!"

Surprised, First Lieutenant Kuach kicked their butts. If they continued to lie down on the ground, they would be attacked by poisonous insects or snakes. The mercenaries rushed to set up tents and scattered boric acid and alum around them.

"Black, it seems like mercenaries need to roll with the dust for the rest of their lives. Congo's yellow dust is worse than the Sahel's sand storm. I wonder how Edel would react at the sight of you now? Hehehe!" Paul laughed as he looked at Black Mamba.

Black Mamba looked like a kabuki actor with his face covered in dust. His face was painted white, and only his eyes and nostrils could be seen.

"You don't look that great either. Anyway, we're running out of time."

Black Mamba looked at the Rwenzori Mountains' layered peaks with tired eyes.

"Right. Up until now, we've encountered a rabbit path similar to a road, but tomorrow, we'll have to host an off-road rally. Ulumbo!"

"Yes, sir!"

"How far along until Bunia?"

"200 kilometers left, sir. If we move east of the Rwenzori Mountains and keep going, we can reduce it by 30 kilometers."

"You want to pass through that mountain range?" Black Mamba asked, his mouth dropped open.

"The road from Albert Peak to Margherita Peak is 4,000 meters above sea level. Vehicles can't pass through because there are many swamps and cliffs. We will only be 2,000 meters above sea level if we avoid going inside the mountain range and move along Alexandra Peak. Vehicles can pass through that route too."

Are you kidding me?

Black Mamba glared at Ulumbo. Was 2,000 meters a joke to him? Ulumbo, who misunderstood Black Mamba's gaze, quickly clarified.

"Margherita is 5,109 meters above sea level. It's hard to pass through, even with your bare body. And the Bakonzo living inside the mountain range are cannibals."

"Damn it! That's worse than I thought," Black Mamba lamented.

While cannibals weren't a problem to him, the mountains were. 5,109 meters above sea level meant that they were higher than Mt. Halla stacked on Mt. Baekdu. They would be exhausted by the time they reached the Ituri Rainforest. Bonipas did tell him not to worry, but the time constraint was always on his mind.

"Black, don't worry too much. We're all doing this to eat and live. Since we have a professional cook with us, let's eat something good to ease our minds," Paul said, patting Black Mamba's shoulder.

"That is good news. Good food is a blessing in life." Black Mamba smiled.

As Paul said, let's eat it all up. Eating good food relieved stress and eased one's mind. Paul pointed at the mercenary who was preparing their food.

"That guy is Commander Dimanche's cook. I can't believe I have the honor to eat Commander Dimanche's food, all thanks to you."

Paul was right to say it was an honor. France sending over a cook meant that the country recognized him as Black Mamba's friend.

"He'll feel like dying, but as long as we're happy."

Black Mamba laughed heartily. He remembered the neighborhood feast he saw when he was younger. A few days before the feast, the farmers cleaned up the pigs' cages and fed them until they were full. It was kindness given before slaughter. The old man's intention behind sending over his cook was like the farmers' kindness toward their pigs before the feast in the bridge village.

You can take the honor that can't even be eaten. I prefer money.

Black Mamba gladly accepted the Oecophylla smaragdina's goodwill.