Novel Name : Mercenary Black Mamba

Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 402

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“There’s no one to trust.”

He’d shot 9 out of 21 with his Dragunov. Twelve were left in the village. Wallaby said there were 10 in the village. Either he didn’t know numbers very well, or Ulumbo translated wrong. Black Mamba help up nine fingers and made a slitting motion across his neck with his fingers and poked his tongue out. This meant he had killed nine.

“Naiabunga!” A faint smile rose on the old man’s face. Even the old lady revealed her near-black teeth and laughed happily. The old man raised his left hand’s index finger and attached two fingers from his right.

“Twelve!” Black Mamba exclaimed.

The old man surprisingly knew how to do subtraction. He was the Pygmy tribe’s Einstein. The old man drummed on his chest, raised five fingers, and crumpled them. He also drummed on his chest, poked his tongue out, and pretended as though he was collapsing.

Black Mamba understood. The old couple had lost five of their children to Kamuge’s organization. The old couple was asking him to kill the invaders. The old couple could get a supporting actor’s award for how well they expressed themselves.

He nodded in agreement and turned to leave. There wasn’t much time. From how Kamuge Damballah was acting, he didn’t seem like he would kill the hostages, but more possibilities could grow with each passing night.

The old man grabbed Black Mamba’s hem. The old lady whom the old man gestured to nodded, dug the ground, and took out a green rock. It was a green-blue rock two sizes larger than a quail egg. The old man shoved the rock into Black Mamba’s hand abruptly. The rock was warm, like an egg that was just born.

“Ange sika kuh (Angel’s egg).”

“Ange sika kuh? Merci!”

Black Mamba wasn’t the kind of person who would refuse someone else’s gift. He took it instantly.


Its color was a bit dim for it to be considered a sapphire. It was closer to an animal’s egg than a jewel. He placed it in his pouch and shoved the pouch into his breast pocket. The old Pygmy’s face grew even more creased with wrinkles.

“May the rest of your life be happy!”

Black Mamba disappeared. The old man rushed out of his home, flipping the flap. He saw a brief glimpse of Black Mamba’s back before he disappeared without a trace entirely.

“God, please pity our tribe!”

The old man continued to bow in the direction where Black Mamba had disappeared to. Old man Alibali was kidnapped by the Kikani tribe when he was a teenager. He’d spent 10 years of his life as a slave just because he visited a black man’s village when he was little. The slave life hadn’t been bad. He learned math from the blacks and gained knowledge. He escaped the village when he turned 25, crossed a large river and a fire-spewing mountain, and returned home.

He’d picked up the anke sika kuh while he was crossing the fire mountain. The great spirit had avenged his son’s and even his grandchildren’s deaths. He’d wanted to serve him food, but there was nothing but caterpillars in his home. He’d given the man his precious blue stone to repay what he felt.

He saw a rather large tent in the middle of the village. It was a tall structure raised by sticking a bark on the ground like a piloti. They’d created a floor with vines entwined with the bark, and had covered the roof with leaves, but it was better than the small makeshift houses.

His sniper eyes separated the background and people as though he was capturing pictures. The blacks and Pygmies had a head’s difference in height. There wasn’t a need to differentiate them. There were 33 Pygmies gathered outside the tent, six inside, and out of the four built blacks, two were carrying rifles.

Black Mamba turned towards the outskirts of the village to find the remaining eight. Those whose locations he had confirmed could be killed slowly. Boom! His dimensional sight swept through the entire village. A streak of shadow rushed through the village and disappeared outside its boundary.


He found a group of blacks 300 meters into the forest from the inner boundary of the village. The blacks had taken off their tops and were enjoying themselves at the stream. The forest’s heavy air pushed into the village. A foul stench pierced his nose. It was the special scent that came from all Damballahs.

Three were looking for something in the stream, and four were gathered around a pot that was steaming. He opened his inner eye. The object inside the pot grew more visible. It looked too strange to be called a fish. One sliced off the meat with his sword and raised it out of the pot.

“Filthy bastards!”

Black Mamba’s face grew hard. That wasn’t a fish. It wasn’t an animal. The object which was dangling off the sword’s sharp end was a human hand. Moreover, it was small. Another one stabbed something which looked like a rib and blew at it as he ate it off his knife.

Bang, bang! Papa! The MP5sd3 spewed fire. His targets were 180 meters away and were fixed. They were practically right before his eyes. Blood burst out of seven heads instantly, and seven bodies shook as though they were dancing before collapsing. There was no scream. The bastard who had been turning a ladle in the pot and another who had been stabbing into the pot fell face-first. The pot which had been stewing the child fell to the side. The campfire sizzled out.

“You died while eating, but your spirits won’t be in peace.”

Black Mamba didn’t even check as he turned back to the village. Humans weren’t dinosaurs. They died once their heads exploded.

Black Mamba hid 60 meters from the main tent, in a small shack. The scene in the tent wasn’t that good either. Two a**es were moving up and down on the floor. It was obvious women would be under those bastards’ as**s, since no idiot would rub his penis on raw tree bark.

No matter how brainwashed they were into religion, this was a mad cult to have sex in the midst of several watching eyes. The countless Pygmies standing around watching their own people getting raped wasn’t logical either. Both of them were tribes very different from the Kurds. Neither deserved to enter Novatopia.

Black Mamba had never forgiven a rapist before. Rape was the most pathetic thing a sociopath could do to step on the weak. It was best to remove rapists as they would repeat the same crimes.

“They’re not helping.”

The Pygmies surrounding the tent made it hard for him to find a sniping angle. The innocent Pygmy tribe could be hurt if he made a mistake. He didn’t know why they were raping women after gathering people to watch, but for now, it was the best situation. The Pygmies were acting as his shield.

Black Mamba began to wonder. Since his targets and subjects of protection were mixed, it was harder to move. If he used “becoming one with nature,” his speed would decrease. While Damballah smelled bad, they also had a strange hiding ability which disabled them from getting caught on his dimensional sight easily. It would be hard to move if someone not on his radar shoots the moment he attacks.

“Nimi jotto, I’d rather die than suffer through this.”

While he didn’t like the tribe, he couldn’t make unarmed civilians die. He decided to use cold weapons, despite risking some danger.

It would take 3-4 seconds for him to reach the tent. It would take three seconds for the Damballah to find him running and pull the trigger. If the Damballah finds him at least a second late, he’ll be able to get rid of them. Whoosh! Black Mamba jumped out of the shack he’d been hiding in. He forwent the shadow steps and charged into the enemy’s camp. By the time he covered half the distance, none of the Damballah had found him. The notice, in fact, came from the entirely wrong person.

“Gor, gor!” A Pygmy cried, finding something charging at them.

“That stupid idiotic bastard!” Black Mamba thought, astounded.

“Ini? (What?)”

The Damballah who had been on guard went into shooting position. Black Mamba leaped off the ground. Flick, flick! Two darts were shot while he was in the air. He targeted their right chest on purpose to extract information from them.

Bang! Bang!



A pygmy teen was shot by the falling bullet. Black Mamba descended into the chaos. Bang! Bang! Two Damballah soldiers who were smacked on the back of their heads crushed their noses against the ground.

“Inka rara!”

One Damballah bastard raised his rifle. He had an amazing battle sense.


While he’d knocked on their heads gently, it wasn’t the kind of shock a normal human should be able to bear. That was an impossible response unless they were influenced by Yorunba continuously and for a long time. Now, those who had wanted to die should die. He slapped away the gun with his left hand and punched his chin with his right hand.

“Damn!” Black Mamba exclaimed.

He had forgotten to control the degree of his Billion’s Water Armor power. Bang! Crunch! The gun broke, and the man’s head exploded. White brain fluid scattered through the air. A Damballah who had been raping was covered in brain fluid and blood. His body which had been prone on the ground collapsed.

“Ua, ini? (What?)”

A bastard who had been shaking his penis underneath a woman’s head swung his jungle knife. His wariness to hold onto his weapon even during rape was acknowledgeable. Crunch! The blade caught in his Billion’s Water Armor shattered.


The Damballah didn’t even have a chance to be surprised. His broken blade left the grim reaper’s hand. The blade was shoved into his open mouth, went through and out the back of his head, and landed right on the tent’s pillar.


The Damballah whose airway and throat were sliced in an instant released the air in his lungs and he collapsed.

“Uea, maha jilini!”

The bastard who had been towering over a woman was a beat late. He rolled once to the side, raised his pants, and reached around for a knife.

Flash! His Kukri flashed. The man’s hand which had been pulling up his pants stopped at his thigh. His head and neck started to slide apart. The head fell to the ground and rolled. Blood poured out of his neck like a fountain. His penis, which didn’t receive the last signal from his brain, continued to nod in the air.

“Aaaaaak!” The Pygmies who were covered in blood screamed out loud.

“Bastard, you dare rape before me? I’ll hang your head on an electric saw instead!”

Bang! Bang! Black Mamba kicked the two naked corpses away and out of the tent.

“Agh, Maha jilini! (The devil!)”

The Pygmies scattered like baby spiders. The tent emptied instantly. Black Mamba, the raped women, and the dart-in-chest bastard were the only ones left.

“Kuuuh!” The bastard with the dart in his chest rose to consciousness.

“Kid, I need you to rest a while longer.”

Slap! The slap of fear worked as anesthesia. Black Mamba looked down at the Pygmy women who were lying straight on the ground. The men had crushed women who looked like sixth graders. The crushed children couldn’t be fine.

“Tsk!” He clicked his tongue.

Their revealed skin was covered in blood. Their blank gazes looked up at the ceiling. He tore the clothes off the dead guerillas and covered the women or children’s lower half.

“Forget the bad things.”

He didn’t have anything else to say. The Pygmies didn’t run far. They hid in the shacks or trees, poked their eyes out, and observed Black Mamba.

“Ha, is this the wariness of the weak? Or am I just incapable of understanding their lives?”

The Pygmy tribe had just watched on as their women were raped. How could their actions be considered normal human’s! Perhaps they wanted the black men’s seeds out of respect and awe?

He suddenly remembered the Hwa Nyang girls who were dragged to China during the Qing dynasty, then brought back. They were women of Korea who were dragged thousands of miles away by some bad men and were cursed at in foreign languages. They managed to return home after several hardships but were only cursed at by their own countrymen too, for being women who dirtied their bodies and gave up morals.

Their families who should have reassured and protected them spat on them and beat them up with sticks. The nobility didn’t accept the Hwa Nyang girls back into their families and forced their daughters to commit suicide. The innocent Hwa Nyang girls either hung their necks or threw themselves into the water. Today, the word Hwa Nyang was still used to refer to girls who sold their lower half. What an irony!

The evilest ruler in the world was a ruler who had lost his country, and the weakest man was someone who didn’t protect his wife. The people who should have thrown their bodies into the water should have been King Injo and the men who had failed to protect the women. The Pygmy men’s faces overlapped with the evil nobility’s.

Zap! Something pressed down on the back of his head. His body slid to the side automatically. Bang! A dry gunshot unique to Akabo’s rang out. An innocent Pygmy man fell. Black Mamba jumped down from the tent’s top. Clang! Clang! Clang! Gunshots rang out again. Bullets embedded themselves in the pillar.

“Idiot, if you had run you wouldn’t have died,” Black Mamba expressed his regrets.

He’d found the guy’s location and direction the moment he shot the second round. He was behind the log which laid 150 meters out. As long as he knew where the guy was, there wasn’t a chance for the guy to escape. The moment Black Mamba finished analyzing the bullet’s direction, he counter-attacked with his MP5sd3. Papapa! The three-tap attack landed in a row on the log. Surprised, the Damballah leaped up and began to run in zigzag.

It was a good choice, but also foolish. Avoiding Black Mamba’s shot in the open air was harder than avoiding the rain.

Papa! Blood continued to pour out of his head. The Damballah soldier wasn’t able to take another two steps before he fell. Kidamba’s village was cleared of Kamuge’s subordinates and cult members, all 21 of them. This was the first man-to-man battle he had since entering Ituri Jungle, the ninth day.

“Is that brat touring?”

With Samedi’s senses and physical ability, he should have finished a while ago. Tututututu- As though he was responding to Black Mamba’s question, a thick round rang out. The heavy sound made it obvious it was Samedi’s MAG machine gun. A smile rose on Black Mamba’s face. Men, whether old or young, were always eager to try out new toys.

When the battle unlike a battle finished, the hot air rushed at him. Black Mamba relieved his thirst with the Hibitor water and sat on a log. He entered Kidamba’s village on the GPS and waited for Samedi.

The Pygmies, despite the battle being over, didn’t approach Black Mamba. They were strange people. They hadn’t gone far, and 30 pairs of eyes continued to track his every movement. Black Mamba felt offended. Humans were humans because they knew how to provide and place value on the weak and other lives.
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