Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 420
Sure enough, an unpleasant alarm sounded from the camp.
“Matatizo Atoy, Matatizo Atoy!”
The lights in the tents turned on with a shout. Instantly, the whole camp woke up.
“Tsk. You should’ve put up with it a little bit longer!”
Black Mamba clicked his tongue as though it was a waste. The plan to inconspicuously infiltrate the tents with becoming one with nature went awry. A fight was inevitable. It wasn’t like he was going to pick the throats of those men who were asleep.
Black Mamba hesitated with the incendiary grenades and white phosphorus grenades. Miguel, who had been covered in white phosphorus, didn’t leave behind a bone. The pain as flesh and bones burned was unbearable. It was a very inhumane thing to do to someone.
“Wakil, the Damballa is not human. Humans don’t eat humans. These people are horrible animals.”
Samedi urged the hesitant Black Mamba.
“Right. What is the point of a humane death for the inhumane!”
He hesitantly pulled out the grenades’ safety clips. The Damballa tents were scattered among the giant trees. The nearest one was 100 meters away, and the furthest one was 400 meters away.
“Let’s aim for a bullseye.”
A black mamba had better night vision than a lion, which was an advantage when it was at work.
Two black lumps crossed the night sky. A grenade successfully landed in a Tochka 400 meters away. Incendiary and white phosphorus grenades flew into a vent at the top of a wall with precision as though it had been measured with a ruler.
The loud explosions drowned out the sound of the alarm. Wreckage flew into the air, followed by a burst of red flames. The tents quickly became a ball of fire. White phosphorus was both inhumane and deadly but also served as a smokescreen. The firestorm caused by the incendiary grenades carried the white phosphorus everywhere.
Fog-like masses scattered all over the place. Wherever the lumps landed, be it the tents, trees, or humans, they burned. The tents next to the white phosphorus smokescreen also burst into flames. 10 seconds later, shouts were heard.
Dozens of people rushed out of the tents. The terrible screams of the people covered in white phosphorus tore across the sky.
The MAG gun spewed fire. The power of heavy machine guns was different from lighter ones. Human flesh, the remains of the tents, pieces of wood, and stone spattered. Everything in the gun’s path, including the rushing Vodou followers, collapsed like falling dominoes.
Black Mamba and Samedi moved 20 meters in a flash. The gun’s range was good, but the tents were nestled between giant trees. They had to constantly move for a better aim.
Precise control was required to throw a grenade at the tents 100s of meters away while avoiding obstacles like trees. Although Samedi was bigger than Black Mamba, he couldn’t throw grenades.
Grenades flew in pairs at intervals of three to four seconds. Explosions rang every three to four seconds at the repetitive steps of preparation, movement, and throwing. There was no automatic grenade launcher. No other machine could throw grenades as accurately as Black Mamba could.
Generally, the gunpowder used in fragmentation grenades was about 150 grams of TNT. If it was not a special grenade like the anti-tank grenade, then the explosion wouldn’t be powerful enough to blow people away, like those seen in movies. The absence of cover and being within the proximity of three meters resulted in 100 percent fatalities, 50 percent fatalities at the proximity of six meters, and 25 percent fatalities at the proximity of 10 meters. Two fragmentation grenades took out 60 percent of the people in the tents. The remaining 40 percent rushed out of the tents just like dogs.
Machine guns greeted the dozens of soldiers rushing out. The remains of the tents and human limbs exploded out.
“Ahhhh, What is that? What happened?”
Budsella, who was just sitting in his chair, sprang up and pulled out his pistol. His heart sank at the sound of gunshots and explosions in the air. He had been waiting for the report from his soldiers, who went out to inspect the perimeters but no longer expected them to return.
“Captain, it’s a surprise attack.”
The deputy came running into the tent.
“I know it’s a raid, punk. Find out who the enemy is and their numbers.”
Feeling dejected, the deputy turned around and ran back out.
A black object that broke through the wall landed at Budsella’s feet.
Budsella flew away.
The deputy and Budsella, who were swept away by the explosion, rolled around. Blood flowed from the arms and face of the deputy, but Budsella was fine. That was due to the extra protection he received from Kamuge’s magic.
Budsella’s chest turned cold. Physical power was Vodun Petro’s attack, which Makandal had warned about.
“Jhannamo, sagpu karari!”
Budsella screamed until his throat hurt. Even if arms or legs fell off, those who consumed a little Yorunba would not retreat without orders. They would be better off conserving their strength to fight another day.
The deputy, who resembled a demon with his bloodied face, signaled to retreat.
“Retreat, retreat now.”
The followers that did hear the signal rushed into the forest. The Vodou followers, who did not hear Budsella’s signal, bravely attacked the intruders with their own weapons.
Kamuge woke up in shock. Kamuge’s place was 400 to 500 meters away from the followers’ residence. Originally, his house was given away to a Chinese man, and he lived in a stilt house to create Lus Luwe.
Kamuge opened the door and stepped out. The sound of the explosions and gunfire rang in the air, and the sky above the followers’ residence was dyed red.
“Ugghhh, it’s a mistake!”
Kamuge pulled his hair. Legba’s vision was misconstrued. The target of the gatekeeper spirit wasn’t Kran but Petro. The Wanga and the Baka were both useless against Petro, the demon of all demons.
Kamuge wanted to join the fight right away, but he could not leave the place where Lus Luwe was about to be born. Petro was an existence that went against the laws of nature. Even magic didn’t work. The only way to kill Petro was to physically hit him.
The only way to overcome the situation was to bring back the strike force sent out to the outskirts and send some of the zombie armies to block Petro. Kamuge ran back inside, grabbed the receiver, and turned it on.
“Return immediately. I am saying it again. Return immediately, and eliminate the intruders.”
After ending the call, Kamuge put his thumb on his temple and extended his four other fingers above his head like an antenna. He had almost forgotten about his other playing card against Petro.
[It’s time to pay for your meal, my friend.]
A lethargic voice echoed, sounding irritated by the interruption.
[A strong enemy has appeared. You need to protect the white women.]
[You want me to protect the orcs? That’s really insulting. My hospital discharge papers haven’t even been signed yet.]
Son of a b*tch!
Kamuge ground his teeth. That was why white people could not be trusted. The handsome white guy was even more incredible. He was a shameless person who came to him without hesitation and told him to turn a blind eye while he had his fill.
[Then, kill the intruder. He’s a pretty strong guy.]
[Strong guy? That’s good. It has been a while since I’ve had a challenge.]
The telepathic connection was briefly cut off.
“Hahaha, you’re a strong idiot!”
He knew that would happen soon, so he asked him to protect the women. It’s a piece of cake for a strong, smart, and bad guy. Kamuge pulled the rope twice. A man dressed in black from head to toe suddenly appeared.
“Makandal, give me your orders.”
“Ogu Ungang, Petro appeared in the followers’ residence. He dragged 10 zombies. If a white friend loses, step up. Don’t step up until then.”
The Black man vaguely answered and went down the ladder. Ungang was a Vodou priest who specialized in zombie production. Only Ungang knew the amount of magic and drugs that killed souls and left 1,000,000s behind and the amount of magic and drugs needed to strengthen the body.
“Damn it, damn it!”
Kamuge circled the room like an ant that lost its antennae. The sound of explosions and gunfire increased, and he could feel the pain of the souls of loyal followers being dragged one after another by Baron Samedi. If one was a big soul, a follower was a body that contained the soul. Kamuge shuddered at the pain of his body falling apart.
“Three days, just three days!”
After completing a round of measures, Kamuge shed tears of blood.
In just five minutes, the camp turned into a hellish sight.
Oxygen rushed into the burning camp. Black Mamba poured all 20 remaining grenades. The Damballa base, which was hit by 40 fragmentation grenades, six incendiary grenades, and six white phosphorus grenades at once, burned red.
Bullets that flew sporadically from the camp turned into organized resistance.
The machine guns joined in. The giant nest, which had remained silent for 100s of 1,000s of years, was torn down, and rock debris scattered in the enclosed area. Despite the darkness, the Damballa’s aim was quite accurate. Organized resistance had begun, which meant that the conductor was still alive.
Black Mamba picked up the MP5SD3 and jumped out.
Samedi ran ahead of Black Mamba, shooting the MAG. The Damballa’s bullets were concentrated on Samedi. Samedi jumped through the burning wall. There was no time for Black Mamba to stop.
The Damballa hiding indoors fired away.
The bullets of 1,450 joules knocked on Samedi. Samedi, who was hit at close range, faltered and stepped back.
Fear crept up on the faces of the Damballa, who were pulling the trigger of the guns. The combat suits worn by Black Mamba and Samedi were special suits made of polymerized Kevlar fibers and aramid-based Gore-Tex material. Cutting with a knife didn’t even tear it, and on top of the heat-resistant function, there was a limited bulletproof function. It was an expensive piece of clothing that cost 1,000,000 francs to make each.
Bullets penetrated the combat suits but not the bulletproof vests. Humans would have suffered broken bones and be incapacitated by the impact, but Samedi had the physical ability to withstand Monk Dae Woo’s Psychokinesis. Rifle bullets didn’t do much damage.
Gunfire swept through the room. The Vodou followers, who had been hiding under a bed in an unlit corner, spat blood. Samedi, who killed more than a dozen people, jumped out of the building.
The followers who discovered Samedi came charging with rifles. The bullets were stuck in the giant. Samedi’s eyes burned red after being hit.
The MAG spouted fire. Dozens of Vodou followers bled and collapsed.
Samedi ran like a bull that was not afraid of being hit. The machine gun went from east to west. He was like Zhao Yun driving away Cao Cao’s army from Changban. The Vodou followers, who had been resisting relentlessly, were discouraged.
“I have gone mad, mad!”
Black Mamba shook his head. Even if he was ignorant, he was too ignorant. There’s no such thing as a mad bear. It was difficult to keep up with Samedi’s movements with the human eyesight, but the grenades had no eyes. It’s hard for Samedi to hold on after enduring a few shots in the head. A demonstration was needed.
“Samedi, cover me.”
The leaping Black Mamba smashed the roof of the half-destroyed tents and jumped in. Humans reacted slowly to overhead attacks.
He killed three people with the three-tap firing sequence before they could even step on the floor. He rolled on the floor and killed two people, and he jumped up and killed another three. There was no time for the Damballa to turn the gun. The tents were an abstract horror painting of scattered flesh and blood due to the grenade attacks. The gruesome sight of eight still lives added to it.
Samedi shouted unknowingly. It was a fine ability impossible to obtain even if he died and woke up 100 times.
“Well, I will do it my way.”
Samedi, who was rushing, smashed the tent’s burning wall and jumped in.
The heads of the Vodou followers who were shooting through holes on the wall exploded, and their limbs fell off.
A follower, who was lying on the floor, relentlessly pulled the trigger.
The heavy MAG barrel smashed his head to pieces.
Samedi smashed the wall and jumped out.
“Rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) at two o’clock!”
The MAG spouted fire. At a corner of the burning tents, a follower aiming the RPG was riddled with holes.
Bullets poured out.
Black Mamba, who used shadow steps, reduced the distance by 80 meters while counting to three.
Black Mamba jumped into the tents, and his MP5 poured out bullets. The heads of the three followers who were shooting through the holes on the wall exploded simultaneously. The two quick-witted men broke the wall and escaped.
“Damballa Quodo Intar.”
Suddenly, a dart was embedded on the temple of a follower who was aiming with a rifle. His legs had fallen off, and his intestines were sticking out.
Black Mamba’s expression was twisted. Even when they were being cleaned out, the Damballa followers acted recklessly. That was why he hated fanatics. The behavior of those who fought until their death was madness and not religious belief. A normal human being would obviously run away.
 “We’re in trouble. It’s the enemy!”
 “Please save me!”
 “My enemy!”
 “Find, kill.”
 “Damn it, retreat to the forest!”
 Low-level supernatural power bestowed by a spellcaster.
 The cursed power from an animal.
 “Take Damballa’s curse.”