Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 62
Rubnenco lowered his body as if to dig into the bottom of the trench. The only way to survive such a fearsome guy was by not revealing himself. The moment his fingertips were revealed, they would be blown away by the bullet.
The enemy was an amazing bastard, but he had no intention of going down without a fight. One of the most important parts of the Spetsnaz curriculum was overcoming and blocking fear. If the bastard was a kanma, he was an eschubiaste, one of the elite members of Spetsnaz.
“Yi alo alo!” Rubnenco hollered. It was to distract the sniper’s concentration and lure the attacks of his allied soldiers.
‘That f****** Russian bastard, why’s he shouting!’
Black Mamba was annoyed. As he was in Legion Etranger, he could understand a few words of several languages. He knew that alo in Russian referred to an enemy. He understood what the enemy was aiming for.
The Russian had an amazing sense of danger. He was the first person he had missed on the first shot. Even his actions were annoying.
From both right and left, bullets poured in from everywhere. Spare flints of rocks and wood began flying around.
Black Mamba left the scene as though his body had been swept away. He climbed the surface of rocks like a squirrel and concealed himself.
Rubnenco, who earned his chance, grabbed the RPG launcher.
The front of the RPG in which the force was triggered was crushed. It was the result of that kanma’s sniping. If he had aimed for this situation, it would have been unbelievable. In that case, he would have been some insect with special feelers or a snake with a Jacobsen sense. The enemy was fearsome, but he, too, had special sensory abilities. There was nothing to fear.
‘The bastard must have climbed over the rock. He would have crawled right towards the bushes. Ha, how’s he that fast?!’
Rubnenco was shocked while estimating the distance. Thirty meters inwards, the bastard suddenly appeared right before his nose.
The cliff’s steepness was around 45 degrees. The bastard had closed in 100 meters in that steepness in 6~7 seconds. On top of that, his presence was starting to disappear.
‘That won’t do. Have a taste of this.’
He moved his arms several times while pressing his body into the trench and threw the grenade over.
‘Ugh, this ******!’
Black Mamba, who had been starting to become one with nature, panicked at the incoming grenade. He could tell the enemy’s plan immediately. If he jumped out, he would be sniped on all fronts by the northern army.
He calculated the trajectory of the grenade as soon as it was thrown. His left leg shot up in his crouched position.
His heel kicked the falling grenade precisely. It was one of his hundred reflexes.
The grenade shot forward at a speed much faster than when it had first been thrown.
The shards of the grenade, which had exploded mid-air, fell everywhere. It was a moment’s difference. After watching that young soldier’s sacrificial explosion, he detested grenades.
A guard who had been in hiding received the fore impact of the grenade’s explosion.
“Wow, a self-suicide.”
Black Mamba’s mouth lifted into a smile. To Black Mamba, the FROLINATs were evil.
Gunshots rang at the point of the grenade’s explosion. Black Mamba used that moment to escape from the bushes. The opponent was a trained soldier he had never met before. If the opponent made a trace shot with the RPG, then even he would find it hard to escape.
Condensed muscle gave him an extra boost. The dust on the ground rose up. His body, which had been propelled forward, shot up like a cannon. The place he appeared in a flash was in the trench Rubnenco had hidden in.
A black shadow fell from the sky.
Rubnenco, surprised out of his wits, hurriedly pulled out his bayonet. By the time he could interpret the kanma’s movements, he was already within the bastard’s shadow.
The sound of two metals clashing rang out, enough to paralyze the ears.
A grunt escaped Rubnenco’s mouth.
He had instinctively blocked the Kukri which was about to slice through his body diagonally. The astounding degree of the attack caused his NR2 bayonet to spring out. His chest was open.
Rubnenco, who felt the danger immediately, leaned back and kicked his left foot upwards. It was to launch the dart hidden on the right side of his chest.
At the sound of bones breaking there was a shout with the simultaneous sound of metal digging into skin.
Black Mamba’s face creased into a frown. The moment he blocked the Russian’s kick, a metal dart had shot out of his chest. Even Black Mamba couldn’t do anything about a dart that was shot from a meter’s distance. He protected his organs by immediately hardening his chest muscles.
Rubnenco wasn’t going down easily, either. His central bones had broken into pieces, but he attempted to butt heads by bouncing his upper body back up. He recalled the survival instincts he had created during the eschubiaste graduation test by sticking an awl through his cheeks.
Black Mamba’s body covered Rubnenco’s, which returned to its position like a tumbling toy.
When the attack punched straight for the middle of his chest, Rubnenco’s chest visibly deflated. The fist shattered his ribs and lodged itself deep within.
Rubnenco’s eyes widened.
“You…you scary bastard, I’ll wait for you on the other side!”
Blood began to pour out of Rubnenco’s body as soon as he finished his words. The constricted lungs began to turn the flow of blood.
When the 2-meter man fell to the ground, the blood sloshed around him. The best warrior of Spetsnaz, the strongest who had defeated 30 members of the USAFFE in a bar fight, eschubiaste Rubnenco’s name was erased from the Azrael’s death list. Even if some were strong, none could go against Hades.
“F****** bastard! Wait? Wait, what?”
Black Mamba complained as he pulled out the dart from his chest. The dart hadn’t been able to pass the thickness of his muscles and had embedded itself a finger deep. The dart’s metal shone blue underneath the moonlight.
The dart looked similar to the needle he used to sew his straw basket when he was younger with holes scattered around its tip. He could see a thin rifling hanging around the Russian’s neck.
He could guess what had happened. The dart had been shot when the bastard threw back his head. It was a fatal attack that would have worked, even if he had known.
Seeing that there were holes in the dart, he knew that it was poisonous. He had heard that Russians used several assassination techniques, but now that he was on the receiving end, he knew it was true. It was dirty, but he couldn’t curse them. The person defeated was the weaker person.
The poison began to spread. His eyes blurred, and he felt faint. If it was to the point it could poison him; the poison was several times stronger than the poison of a viper. He could tell why the Russian had said he would wait on the other side.
Black Mamba sat down in the trench and made himself comfortable.
He pulled out his inner energy. The resonance which started from below his stomach began to shake throughout his body. His body trembled. Black blood began to trickle out of the hole in his chest.
Black Mamba opened his closed eyes.
The bloodlust which surrounded him on all sides closed in; this was just the beginning. Some poison remained, but he couldn’t leisurely bide for time.
“Those who want to die need to die.”
Black Mamba’s eyes turned into one of a crazed predator. The Paranthropus within him awakened. Thoughts of killing the enemy, decimating them, bounced around his head.
He ripped Rubnenco’s clothes and wiped the blood across his face. Evil ran towards him from all sides, but there was a calmness to Black Mamba’s movements.
A black shadow jumped out of the trench.
Bullets poured in like the rain from the other side of the valley. The black shadow kicked against the surface of the cliff like a lizard.
The bullets weren’t able to chase after the shadow.
The shadow turned around a rock like a river’s stream and disappeared. It was as though a ghost had floated.
The title match with death as their guarantee began. It was the deathmatch of 100 FAP elite scouts against Legion Etranger’s legendary Black Mamba. The cost was, obviously, death.
A dark orange ray of light shot up from the right. It was the flame of the RPG7 which the Arabs called a magic wand. Black Mamba pulled his body out by using the Four Paced Movement. An explosion followed his back.
The largest death ranged of an RPG warhead was 35 meters. It couldn’t be compared to a 10~15 meter hand grenade. Black Mamba, who had been done in by grenades several times, found explosions traumatic.
‘S***, they’re not normal.’
There was a skilled enemy somewhere. Another shot of RPG followed the direction he had ran to.
At the strong impact, stones and sand rose up. Black Mamba, who was about to cross another 15 meters with his Four Paced Movement, flung himself backward like an illusion. His muscles, which had enough pressure to break a bull’s legs, withstood the impact.
Black Mamba used Fearless Steps and moved 30 meters out of range. The black shadow slithered underneath the nearest acacia tree.
The adult warhead’s sound-wave of the RPG, which looked like a pencil, moved at 120 meters per second.
When the target’s range was around 300 meters, for example, the light flashed once and the sound rang one second later. The warhead made contact exactly three seconds later. That meant the RPG shooter was around 400 meters from where he stood.
The two sentry members who had shot the RPG stared at each other with blank eyes.
“Ababs, is that a human?”
“How does a human fly?”
“You’re right. It’s not human if it can avoid the magic wand continuously.”
“He’s the kanma.”
The guerrillas’ faces turned pale.
“Should we flee?”
“You idiot, do you want to be the hyenas’ dinner?”
The reaper had already approached while they were bickering.
Black Mamba took out his hand grenade from his belt pouch. He had prepared two just in case.
In, out, out, out. In, out, out, out.
He brought out his energy by using single beat breathing techniques. The resonating waves which had flowed out of him started to break apart. It was the poison. His circulation wasn’t running smoothly. Using his unstable senses, he estimated the point of explosion. The moment he unpinned the grenade, he threw it down with a sidearm.
The grenade, which sped across the air with the wound of a wire rope, exploded three seconds after its throw. It’s flight time had been calculated. Who would have imagined a person throwing grenades 400 meters away!
He ran into hiding without checking the results. If the enemy hadn’t died by the mid-air explosion, the enemy would have sought shelter underneath the rocks. Bullets landed in the place Black Mamba left moments prior.
Black Mamba raced out of his concealment as though he was avoiding a mass shooting from artillerymen. The battle was harsh even for him. His poisoned body didn’t move as it normally did.
He barely maintained the 30 meters of wavelength. His harsh breathing disrupted his attempt to become one with nature. He was about to die trying to face off against so many with unstable conditions.
When he attacked, retaliation was certain. The RPG and grenade attacks that came to him at random were similarly annoying. The annoying bastards had at least 15 RPGs, several machine guns, and a mountain of grenades. The Fearless steps’ Light paces, Four Paced Movement, and Hundred Turns were all techniques which placed a strain on his body. His strength started to drain rapidly.
When his resonance wavered, it became harder to grasp the enemy’s position.
FRONLIAT’s strategic position was also detailed. It was the three-way ambush he had seen in a military book called 100 Battle Strategies. Three teams created a triangular formation. It was to support and aid the other two teams which lay in a 60-degree angle.
In the three-way ambush, if one team was attacked, the other two could immediately attack in aid. By binding three-way ambushes together, it became a ten-way ambush. By binding several ten-way ambushes, it became an inescapable heaven’s net. The most advantageous aspect was how everyone within the formation was bound together like military ants in order to maintain the upper hand.
In Black Mamba’s position, he was being attacked as much as he was attacking. It was a situation in which Black Mamba had to die or the entire Habib’s trained scouts had to die. The battle wasn’t easy, even for the legendary Black Mamba.
A pressure pointed into the left side of his temple as though the eraser on a pencil tip was digging in.
He could see the dark orange flash.
‘Ugh, that annoying Allah stick!’
Black Mamba threw his body to the side with his trembling legs. He couldn’t even estimate how many RPG’s the enemy had.