Novel Name : Mercenary Black Mamba

Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 396

Prev Chapter Next Chapter


The Dinofelis moved without a sound. It leaped and landed, avoiding the terror bird’s beak before it shot up again like lightning and landed a blow on the bird’s chest. It was a strike that lived up to its name, monster cat.​


A screeching sound erupted. Blood and feathers scattered from the terror bird’s chest.


The terror bird slapped the Dinofelis’ face by flapping both of its wings and jumped. Its flapping allowed it to move faster, propelling its tree-like legs further. The terror bird shot up five meters into the air and landed on its chicken feet, no, sharp curved claws.

“It’s the end!” Black Mamba mumbled.

It had three claws that resembled a sword. Its side claws looked more like his Kukri. He knew that even the African buffalos would be wiped out with a single blow of its claws.

The Dinofelis exhibited flexibility unique to feline animals. It avoided the aggressive feet attack by tumbling back, grazing the terror bird’s stomach with its hind legs. The terror bird blocked the Dinofelis’ attack with its short wings and stretched out its long neck.

The bird’s ax-like beak attacked the feline’s exposed abdomen. Surprised, the Dinofelis curled up and rolled like a ball.


The huge ax-like beak landed right on the spot where it originally was. Grass and leaves flew into the air, blocking his sight.



Short growls and sharp whistles loudly rang as they tumbled.

“Gosh, that guy must have seen death just now.”

Watching other people fight was more entertaining than one’s own fight. Black Mamba was absorbed in the two ancient monsters’ fight. The terror bird’s beak attacks were as horrifying as the stories he heard. The Dinofelis’ abdomen would be gutted if it had received its attack head-on. The bird could use both its claws and its beak. There was a reason why the Dinofelis was losing.



The monsters that exchanged blows flew apart, instantly increasing the distance between themselves. The Dinofelis targeted its opponent’s neck, and the terror bird targeted its opponent’s side and legs. Both were wary of each other’s deadly weapons. They struggled to attack each other, so they started analyzing instead.

Once again, Black Mamba felt like something was off. Both monsters analytically dragged out the fight by properly distributing their powers to attack and defend. They were just like first-class martial artists. Even herbivores drove themselves half-mad by attacking thoughtlessly when their testosterone level was high. It was natural for predators to beat each other up like it was life or death in a fight.

While the Dinofelis was known to be intelligent, could the terror bird lead the battle calmly? That was impossible. Birds couldn’t use their brains to plan an attack or use the environment to their advantage. Why else would the nickname “chicken head” exist?

There were two reasons why mammals evolved to grow their offspring in their wombs. One was to protect their offspring from external threats, and the other reason was to develop the brain. The brain could develop normally with a constant supply of nutrients. A human fetus needed 2,000 calories of nutrients every day. Surely, the nutrients stored in an egg weren’t enough.

While early birth might be easier on the mother, the offspring’s brain wouldn’t be fully developed. It’s obvious how much nutrients were accumulated in the yolk. That’s why humans could raise chickens, but chickens couldn’t raise humans. In the end, birds couldn’t be as intelligent as mammals. That wasn’t biased because it was inherently impossible since birth.

It’s special, isn’t it? Maybe…?


Black Mamba released his resonance waves. First, he messed up the Dinofelis’ brainwaves.


As expected, the Dinofelis let out a roar. It was the same for the terror bird. When he messed with its brainwaves, its gaze turned aggressive instantly.


The terror bird started kicking at the dirt and stones with its feet. Although it had a large body, it acted just like a street mob.


The Dinofelis charged, unable to hold back. The situation changed. Both monsters were entangled while biting, stabbing, and hitting one another after their violent tendencies were triggered. Weeds were uprooted, and leaves along with feathers floated as they rolled around the entire clearing. The whole forest shook at both monster’s cries.

“Now, they’re monsters.”

Black Mamba smiled in satisfaction. He suspected that both monsters could be genetically modified creatures, like the chimera at the Lakes of Ounianga. He’d be relieved if his suspicions were false, but if it was true, the entire world would turn on its head.

There were righteous humans, but there were no righteous countries. Countries could easily turn into terrible monsters under the guise of national interest. The European colonialism, the American Indian Holocaust, and the atrocities of the Nazis and Japanese militarists—if we looked back on history, the impacts of evil were endless when the country was the mastermind of said evil. Anyone who believed that a country moved honorably for the sake of its people had a few loose screws.

The fight became advantageous to one side in the blink of an eye. The Dinofelis was fast and powerful, but the terror bird was slightly better. With an ax-like beak attached to its long and firm neck, powerful kicks, and wings with sharp claws, the terror bird deserved its title as the greatest predator of the Cenozoic Era with its three weapons.



The Dinofelis, which had been moving around trying to avoid its opponent’s beak, screamed after it was smacked on the head with its wing instead. That was because of its reduced speed. Both degenerated wings not only helped it to balance but served powerful smacks. The Dinofelis’ head snapped to the side.


A powerful kick landed on its side. At the terror bird’s kick, the Dinofelis flew far away.


The terror bird charged forward and drilled down with its beak, giving it no chances.


The Rakshasa was faster than the terror bird’s beak. The whip that flew through the air wrapped around the terror bird’s neck. Black Mamba’s wrist twitched.


The Rakshasa sounded like a piano string. The neck of the fearless terror bird was sliced in half instantly.


The moment the terror bird’s head landed on the floor, the blood gushing out of its neck flew six meters into the air.


Black Mamba’s eyes widened.


The terror bird’s headless body ran around frantically. A large bird missing its head, running around with blood sprinkling everywhere—it was the kind of scene that would have appeared in thriller movies that old people and pregnant ladies were prohibited from watching.

“Look at that damn thing! What’s it going to do without its head?”

Black Mamba stated the impossible. Black Mamba was an evil person who started worrying after cutting off its head.


The headless body ran straight into a limbali tree and hesitated. The terror bird flapped its wings before disappearing deep into the forest.

Black Mamba stared down at the large bird’s head, jumping around on the floor. Why did he intervene in the two monsters’ fight and save the Dinofelis? It was because the saber-tooth cat reminded him of blacky. Of course, blacky wasn’t a cat. It appeared like a cat, but it was a noble being incomparable to the lowly creatures on earth. He suddenly missed blacky.

“Hey, snap out of it!”

“What? Yes, yes! I’m sorry, great master.”

Ulumbo mumbled his apologies as he snapped back into consciousness. Olonge still couldn’t pull himself together. Well, the visual was too shocking for any ordinary person to handle.

“I think we should look into that guy.”

He approached the tired Dinofelis.


The Dinofelis with the injured spine raised its body and bared its teeth.

“Shut up, you s***. How dare you bare your teeth to Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa when you have been defeated by a mere bird! You’re asking for trouble.”

Black Mamba grabbed its large head and shook it.


The monster endured, tensing its neck muscles. There was bloodlust pouring out of its blue eyes. Ulumbo and Olonge couldn’t approach, scared.

“Oh, how dare you glare, cat b*stard!”


The bloodlust that he’d suppressed erupted.


The Dinofelis shoved its head under its front paws. Creatures that were faithful to their instincts were more sensitive to bloodlust. The creature was instantly intimidated by the undefeatable predator’s aura.


He placed his palm on its spine and activated his dimensional sight. Fortunately, it wasn’t broken. He dealt with spines before, back when he healed Sam Chul’s spine. He gently pushed the dislocated spine back into place with his resonance waves. Now, all he had to do was wait for its regenerative abilities to heal the rest or perhaps not.

“Brat, if you want to live, you submit. You understand?”

The Dinofelis flinched.

“Ulumbo, move it on a stick.”


Ulumbo’s face creased. That was the kind of predator he’d never heard of, one he’d be scared to see in a dream. Although it was a pet to the great master, he was its food.

“Hurry up!”

“Yes, yes, sir!”

Ulumbo and Olonge, who were being rushed, only answered but didn’t move. In the end, Black Mamba had to tie the Dinofelis’ four legs with twine. Since it weighed 150 kilograms, he could only move it on a stick.

Ulumbo and Olonge staggered as they raised the stick to their shoulders. The growling b*stard was scary and also heavy. Their eyes darkened at the idea of carrying it all the way to the village.

Black Mamba locked the Dinofelis up in a sturdy cage the moment he returned to the village. It would be easier to transport once he contacted the base camp. The only reason he didn’t do so was because of his suspicions. He planned to observe the Dinofelis himself. He was also curious as a biology student.

“Ulumbo, call the village leader over. Wait, they don’t have a village leader.”

“I’ll call the oldest man over, sir.”

Ulumbo was starting to act smarter.

“What is your name?”


The old Pygmy lowered himself into a bow.

“Congte, I’m leaving to get rid of the black men who dirtied Ituri. That beast is my property. Feed it this amount of meat by the time the sun goes down.”

Black Mamba pointed at a rock the size of a head. Pygmies wouldn’t understand if he told them the amount in kilograms. Telling them not to starve it was better left unsaid. After hearing Ulumbo’s translation, Congte lowered himself even more. No Pygmy dared to go against the Mahabharata’s order.

“You brat, stay still until I’m back from work, you understand?”

Black Mamba patted the large Dinofelis’ head. The Dinofelis’ soul was already under his control. The horrible predator purred, rubbing its head against Black Mamba’s leg like a cat.

On the seventh day in the Ituri Rainforest,

Black Mamba and Samedi headed for Katanga. Olonge and Kidamba were in charge of guiding, while Ulumbo accompanied them as a translator. Kidamba, who shook off his fear of the Blacks and guns, was overflowing with energy.

Olonge, who set out as a soldier, had a mange[1] slung across his shoulder and a koso in his hand. Kidamba had a topa slung across his shoulder and was holding a koso. The koso was more of a long knife that resembled a sickle and wasn’t efficient at clearing shrubs and grass. Samedi gave them a titanium machete, but they shook their heads after looking around a few times.

Samedi was dumbfounded, but Black Mamba understood. A familiar weapon was better than a good weapon. Compared to the titanium jungle knife made with cutting-edge technology, the Pygmies preferred the koso they had been using for decades. The Pygmies didn’t have to build paths in the forest anyway. Jungle knives were insignificant to them as they wiggled their way out of obstacles like a squirrel.

“Huh, isn’t this the place where the hippo attacked us?”

Black Mamba turned to look at Ulumbo. Olonge led them to the place where the hippos and crocodiles caused all kinds of trouble. Although the water level was low, yellow water filled the area.

“I only know the path to Mambasa, sir. The Pygmy hunters have their own path that they use.”

“Really? You’re weak, and now, you’ve lost your purpose.”

Samedi wasn’t used to the complicated emotions of a human. He spoke very straightforwardly. Ulumbo looked discouraged by his harsh words.

“Ulumbo, translating is also important. Don’t worry about the promised money.” Black Mamba smiled.

He could clearly read Ulumbo’s mind. He was in a rush to marry. Black Mamba wasn’t so cold-hearted as to ignore a man who remained a virgin for the past 34 years.

“Thank you, great master!”

Ulumbo’s expression brightened up significantly.

Olonge walked into the swamp without hesitation. Olonge whistled while crossing the same swamp where Black Mamba and Samedi killed dozens of crocodiles and barely managed to cross.


Black Mamba and Samedi, who were preparing to make a raft, exhaled out of shock. The water lapped Olonge’s shins. Eagles could catch pheasants. Although Black Mamba specialized in killing and destroying, the Ituri Rainforest was the Pygmies’ backyard. Olonge walked well along a hidden path in the swamp. As Ulumbo said, there was a path that only they knew of.

Black Mamba and Samedi didn’t hesitate to walk in after realizing that there was a path in the swamp. Martial arts masters had eyes on their feet. The problem was Ulumbo. Samedi had to raise Ulumbo in the air after he nearly fell into the swamp several times. Ulumbo was like a packed lunch in several ways.

Olonge pointed to a large Albazia[2] rooted in the swamp.

“Unka dubemki jintu mm belisita!”

“He says there are cursed white man objects.”


Black Mamba stared at the objects caught on the Albizia branch. The objects hanging from the branch were a cartridge belt and backpack. Olonge spoke indecipherable words.

“Great master, he says many whites died while trying to cross the swamp. The swamp used to be smaller back then, so there were a lot of hippos. He says that there are a lot of corpses under that tree.”

“Back then” meant it had been over 10 days, and “many” meant there were more than 10 corpses. Some Pygmies knew numbers, but Olonge and Kidamba didn’t.

Black Mamba took out the army rope he’d placed in his army pocket.


The rope wrapped itself around the backpack that was 30 meters away.


He snatched the rope back. The branch broke, unable to withstand his strength. The backpack flew through the air and landed in his hands.

Black Mamba didn’t look inside the backpack. It was obvious that it’d be filled with spoiled food and all kinds of bugs. He only checked the nameplate on the side. That was the commando Hubert’s insignia—there was an albatross flying above a crossed dagger and anchor. The backpack belonged to Aschdanc Hamnet Montpor, a senior who wore the military uniform for at least 15 years.

[1] The Pygmy tribe’s bow.

[2] A tree that has lots of small branches and grows up to 50 meters.
Prev Chapter Next Chapter