Mercenary Black Mamba

According to the Chosun records, the watermelon was a rare and expensive fruit. There is a record of Eunuch Park who stole a watermelon from the palace and was punished with the cudgel. A person who secretly exported watermelons was exiled. By today's standards, this may have seemed petty but, back then, it must have been extremely priceless for it to be so cherished.

Black Mamba was unable to catch an animal but returned to camp with four or five watermelons. Surprisingly, his comrades cheered. It was a blessing to eat fresh fruit in the middle of the desert.

On the eighth day of the operation, the captain, who had figured out the extent of Black Mamba's potential, started to relax. He was unable to remove the binoculars from his eyes, but he continuously conversed with Ombuti as he stood guard.

"Stop!"

Black Mamba jumped off the pickup truck. He immediately put his ear to the ground and listened. The quick-witted Emil hurriedly turned off the engine.

"Captain, it's camels. There are five of them."

"Can you tell the distance?"

The captain was no longer surprised.

"Coming from the left about six kilometers away. They are coming our way."

"Should we turn back?"

The captain did not answer Emil's question and instead looked at Ombuti.

"There's a high chance it's a caravan. We are 10 kilometers away from Olong."

With Ombuti's answer, the captain immediately came to a decision.

"Other than Alpha, send everyone back. If it is a caravan, Ombuti can deal with them. If they are guerrillas, then Black will obliterate them."

"Are we planning to disguise ourselves as camel peddlers to get into town?"

Ombuti confirmed, picking up on the captain's intention.

"That's right. What should we use to bargain?"

"We have a lot of good merchandise to trade."

Ombuti pointed to the AK-47 in the pickup truck.

Black Mamba's prediction was correct. An Arab wearing a gandura appeared with five camels in front of him.

Ombuti stepped forward.

"Asalamu alakum, where are you coming from brother?"

"Wa ala eku mut salam, I am coming from Bilma."

Ombuti pointed at the kitchen utensils and clothes hung on the camel.

"Brother, we need one camel and the items on it."

"Brother, do you have payment?"

"I have a gun and bullets."

"Alright. I was starting to worry about my safety."

Because they were able to get what they both needed, the trade went through smoothly.

Black Mamba watched the trade and slowly placed the certificate that he had been holding in his hand into his wrist wallet. Ombuti smiled. The caravan brothers would never have known that they had just escaped the lion's mouth.

Ombuti bought one camel, pots, and several articles of clothing. In return, he handed him 5 guns and 300 bullets.

Olong was a small oasis town. Only about a hundred people resided there. The disguised Ombuti walked toward the town with the camel, pots, and clothes. To not aggravate the natives, only Black Mamba followed him.

Ombuti glanced back at Black Mamba who was following behind him.

Wearing the gandura with the litam wrapped around him, it was hard to tell him apart from other natives. Ombuti, who had Azrael as his guard, had nothing to be afraid of. Even if he was not armed, Black Mamba was an all-powerful warrior.

Once they got to the entrance of the town, they saw tall trees stretched out toward the sky. The bottoms of the old trees were all buried deep in the sand. The unharvested dates were still hanging from their branches.

Dates turned orange when they were ripe. The unripened fruit hung yellow and dry because of the drought.

"Wakil, don't speak."

"I already know."

Either way, he hadn't wanted to open his mouth. As they entered the town, a rotten smell seemed to be emanating from each house. Unable to stand it, especially with his sensitive sense of smell, he wrapped the cloth tightly around his nose.

Since starting the operation, it was the first time he had entered a native town. They had houses built from braided reeds and mud bricks, similar to their bunkers, with cow dung plastered on it so that it was mottled black. The falling sunlight cast a yellow shadow.

It didn't take long for Ombuti to reach an agreement with the mayor.

Ombuti gave the mayor one of the Soviet Tokarev guns they had kept after defeating the guerillas. He stared at them wide-mouthed and yelled in a loud voice while waving his hands.

"What are you saying?"

"They say that no outside person had come into their town for several weeks. They said if we give them a gun, they will gather the townspeople for us. He's such a pig."

It meant that if he was going to interrogate, then he had to interrogate them directly.

If Ombuti was describing him as a pig, then he must have disliked the mayor very much. In Arab culture, the worst thing to say to a person was to call them a "pig."

"Is there a problem?"

"No. It's a small town, so it will end quickly."

There was no need to gather the people. They had purchased the camel and disguised themselves as peddlers to do such an interrogation.

Ombuti went from house to house and bargained with them for pots and clothes.

From a house, a group of women and children in dirty rags came rushing out.

The women's hair was oily and matted, and the children's skin was peeling white, results of their difficult lives. Black Mamba frowned. It was how he had looked when he had been at his uncle's house.

Ombuti adamantly continued his pitch like a true salesman.

He even patted the heads of the children whose hair rained down dandruff and patted the women's butts. Watching this made Black Mamba laugh.

Even with Ombuti's great persuasion skills, the sale did not go smoothly. It looked like they wouldn't be able to afford anything.

The natives had fear in their eyes mixed with curiosity. Outsiders rarely came into their town.

"Ombuti!"

At Black Mamba's low calling, Ombuti flinched.

"Be discrete. It's the last house on the right. It's the three men with guns."

"How'd you know?"

Ombuti asked in a low voice. From their current location, it was 50 meters away. He couldn't help but continuously be fascinated by Black Mamba's skills.

Black Mamba pointed to his ear and nose.

"I know by sound and smell. I can smell metal and oil, and I can also hear them putting bullets into their pistols."

"Oh my Allah!"

Ombuti called out to Allah quietly. The Tuareg showed the amount of respect to his Korean master relative to his skills. He was happy because his master's skill was phenomenal.

"There is a fingernail-sized metal shard in Ombuti's left chest."

"Ah!"

Ombuti jumped as if he'd seen a ghost and grappled at his chest for the hidden piece of gold.

"The only person here who would have a gun is a FROLINAT hunting dog. What should we do?"

"I'll catch him. He'll open his mouth with a good beating."

Before he was even able to utter his last words, Black Mamba's was already getting farther away. Dust rose from the spot where he had kicked off.

The Amal brothers were intelligence agents from Tokodoom's Ahmood army.

They had found four suspicious-looking vehicles, and they had been on their way to pass information to the Habib army when they found two unarmed men entering the town.

The Amal brothers planned diligently to catch the two intruders.

"Oh no, he's figured us out."

Kiro, who was holding a gun, yelled.

"Shoot them!"

Hakim's scream was buried in the sound of bullets.

Bang— bang—

"Ack!"

Ombuti, who had been blankly staring at Black Mamba's back, flew down to the ground. When he lifted his head, he saw the crumbled walls and Black Mamba running through it. It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Crack—

The thick wall made of braided reeds was no obstacle. Avoiding the bullets, he crushed the wall and ran inside for cover.

"Denta tachinun! (This lunatic!)"

The surprised Hakim pulled out his shamshir and waved it around while charging.

The Amal brothers were warriors from Dumuma clan from Tibesti. The shamshir was a friend of their clan from hundreds of years ago. Hakim did not doubt the results. The shamshir was sharp enough, and the timing was impeccable.

Clang—

The sound of heavy metals colliding echoed.

Hakim's arm twisted in the opposite direction. The shamshir flew out of his hand and got stuck deep inside a wall.

Thud— Hakim saw stars in the middle of the day; they erupted in front of his eyes, then his world fell into darkness. Black Mamba's body spun.

With his kukri, he was able to get the shamshir to fly. Then he kicked Hakim in the chin, then spun and kicked him in the temple. At Kiro, who was holding a gun, he threw the kukri and hit him also, all in one shot. The three Arabs holding guns and swords were disabled in an instant.

"Ahh!"

Only after Black Mamba landed did his agonizing scream come out.

"Oh, dear!"

Ombuti, observing the scene, clicked his tongue.

The one with the broken mandible and the other with the broken skull were comatose, and the one with the kukri through him practically had his shoulder falling off.

"Ack!"

When Ombuti pulled out the kukri, Kiro let out an ear-splitting scream. He wiped off the blood from the blade and handed it back to Black Mamba. Afterward, he used his litam to bandage Kiro's shoulder.

The Yaktal Dumuma clan were enemies of the Tualag clan. Thus, he didn't care whether one of Hakim's men lived or died.

Ombuti sent the Hakim brothers out of the house shaking his head. Hakim and Amal were just barely alive. A person's skull is much stronger than most people anticipate. It is not weak enough to be broken by getting hit with hands or feet, but Black Mamba's hands and feet were a scarier weapon than a sword or ax. Behind the peaceful face of its owner lied the savage heart of a beast.

"Ombuti, did you question all of them?"

"Yep. The Raccoon didn't even come here."

Ombuti jumped in surprise at Black Mamba's question.

"The captain will be furious. What should we do with these things?"

"We have to take them to camp."

"Alright. Place them on the camel.

"You may place items, but you do not place people."

"It must be due to his lack of vocabulary." Ombuti thought.

Black Mamba placed the three unconscious men on top of the camel as if they were cargo. The camel is a sensitive animal.

Once it smelled blood, it started to turn its head and spit everywhere. It was its way of saying it didn't like it.

Ombuti tried to calm the animal, but it didn't listen and kept retreating backward.

Black Mamba grabbed the animal's chin and stared in its eyes.

"You cheeky animal, do you want to get a beating?"

Upon seeing his violent look, the camel screamed in fear.

Black Mamba hit the camel's cheeks lightly with the palm of his hand.

The camel calmed down and lowered its head.

Black Mamba smiled and handed Ombuti the leash.

The shadow of the camel carrying the three men stretched out long behind them. The desert's sunset is long. The darkness comes suddenly but until then, the orange sunset burned brightly. Once the sun had completely set, Ombuti and Black Mamba returned to camp.

"He's their intel."

Black Mamba said these short words then went to wash off the blood.

"He obliterated them."

"Meeting Black Mamba of all people, they sure have bad luck."

Mouris and Miguel clicked their tongues as they received the equipment.

"What did he do to make a man look like this piece of meat."

Mouris stared at Hakim and clicked his tongue.

"They were all exactly one shot."

Burimer looked at Black Mamba and shook his head.

Bellman looked over the wounded.

"As his skull was bashed in, it broke his spine. This one had a piece of skull lodged into his brain. Both are a lost cause. This one, with his scalp gone, is about to go into shock."

Bellman gave up on Hakim and Amal and went to Kiro. He injected atropine into his thigh and bandaged up his shoulder.

"Are we able to interrogate them?"

"We'll be able to interrogate the one with the sliced off arm."

Bellman nodded at Burimer's question.

"If Black was our enemy…."

"We'd be done for."

The captain finished Burimer's sentence.

"We could have had our location compromised. You did well."

The captain patted Black Mamba's shoulder.

"They sure are unlucky."

"Haha, trying to go against the angel of death."

"Crazy punks. It would have been safer to stick their heads into the head of a lion."

The captain and Burimer laughed heartily.