Novel Name : Mercenary Black Mamba

Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 495

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An inexplicable question filled Walter’s brain. His blood foamed around his mouth. His heart trembled. His limbs felt numb. These were the typical symptoms of poisoning.
Langsam Tschüss was only absorbed by the digestive tract. Otherwise, it was not lethal. He had only touched the capsules. There was no way he could have been poisoned. Walter had no idea that it was saffron that poisoned him. No matter how hard he sought the cause and explored possible routes of administration, he could not figure it out. It drove him crazy.
“I am Walter! I am no lowly yellow monkey! I am Roman Walter, a legitimate descendant of the Aryans!”
Walter yelled but his pure Aryan genes were no use against the attack of saffron. He had finished testing Langsam Tschüss on animals but he could not procure human participants (victims) for a clinical trial. Comically, the first clinical trial happened to be conducted on his own body.
Strangely, his head felt as clear as a winter sky above the Mediterranean Sea.
‘One of the features of Langsam Tschüss was that one had to look at their dying body with a clear mind. What a horrible poison it is!’
Walter, even amid his resentment and anger, felt proud of himself. The brain could accurately perceive the dying body. It could tell the state of the body that changed at each moment. This was groundbreaking.
He focused his remaining mental capacity on his blurring vision. He could see Black Mamba and Edel exchanging endearing gazes. Black Mamba ate spoonfuls of bouillabaisse and shrimps with a knife. He gave Edel a thumbs-up.
Edel was drinking wine. Walter had coated the inside of the glass with Langsam Tschüss. A Caucasian old man dipped his spoon in the pot of bouillabaisse. Edel gave him a dirty look. The man chuckled and looked up at a giant that people referred to as Samdi. The giant ladled some bouillabaisse on his plate and started to eat. He is now a dead man as well. Walter’s vision rapidly faded.
‘Poor dude. You chose the wrong master. But why am I subject to this!’
Walter’s head fell to the table. The last thought that went on through his head was Hassan’s words, “We plow the stardust drifting in the wind and drink the universe that is contained in a single raindrop.”
It was so. Inexplicable things continued to happen in the world. A peaceful life was a hundred times harder to achieve than a successful life. Walter had always sought the opportunity to kill Mu Ssang. Yet here he was dying, after eating the bouillabaisse meant for Mu Ssang.
This is why every culture has a proverb that is equivalent to “Right will prevail in the end.” France’s rendition was this: “As one makes one’s bed, so one finds it.” (Similar to “you’ve made your bed, now lie in it.”)
Walter was taken away on a stretcher and the MSF agents withdrew like a falling tide. Even though one of the guests, Walter, met a sudden death, the rear garden of Yoa House was still filled with bustling noise.
Orifice, Shernion, Mulsoli, and the cooks did not even realize that Walter was dead because Professor Loren Giz had told them that Walter passed out because he worked too much.
Everyone in Dubaiburupa’s entourage had fought the fear of death. The death of one doctor did not dismay them. Only Dubaiburupa mattered to them. Other than him, any other event was part of everyday life.
The incident happened elsewhere. The walkie-talkie in Ibrahim’s jacket rang. After listening to it without saying a word, he turned it off and looked back at Ombuti.
“Aklan crew, a bother.”
“A bother? A dead person came back alive. An alive person suddenly dropped dead. What could be more bothersome?”
Ombuti was indifferent. Wakir and Edel were having a good time. To Ombuti’s standards, everything was fine.
“It concerns the leader of the Peshmerga battalion. Thousands of crowds have gathered on the eastern shore of Lake Yoa.”
“Thousands? Did they come out for a walk?”
“It is not a joke. More and more continue to gather. The headcount would soon surpass 10,000.”
“Bakri, has anyone registered a request for assembly?”
Bakri made a troubled face. Ombuti clicked his fingers.
“The news of Wakir’s return was leaked. There is no other reason for the residents to gather. They must be on the eastern shore of the lake because they did not want to bother him.”
Before Ombuti could finish his words, a P4 leading jeep entered the rear garden. A broad-shouldered middle-aged man in yellowed military uniform jumped off the vehicle.
“Blue Art! Governor, a rumor spread that Dubaiburupa was staying in Yoa House. The residents continue to gather at the lake.”
“Hadat, Dubaiburupa has returned.”
The middle-aged soldier jumped in surprise. Hadat, who spotted Mu Ssang sitting next to Edel, went on his knees.
“Long live, Dubaiburupa. I am Al-Hadat, the leader of the Peshmerga battalion.”
“Stand, Hadat. A soldier salutes, not bows. Relay my message to the citizens on the eastern shore of the lake. I will be there in an hour.”
Hadat disappeared in the jeep right away.
“Wakir, would it be all right for you to appear before a crowd? There could be impure elements!” Ombuti said in worry.
“Novatopians have all kinds of ethnicities, tribes, and religions. They are too busy now but with time, there will be division. I need to show them that there is a core in this transcendent country. Up until now, Dubaiburupa has been the moon hidden behind clouds. From now on, he will be the sun visible to everyone.”
“Allahu Akbar! Wise words! We will bring you there.”
“No. You prepare the stage. Use all the lights on the construction sites and light up the shore as bright as day.”
“So be it, Wakir.”
“Let’s conclude this dinner now. It is hard for me to eat a proper meal.”
“We are sorry!”
Ombuti and others lowered their heads. They were unable to serve a proper meal to their master who returned after accomplishing a great feat. They had no words.
“I am sorry, Dubai!”
Edel bit on her lip as if to cry. It would have been great if the two could enjoy a meal alone like last time. Tonight, she did not even have the opportunity to talk with him properly. But Dubai was not her own. He was Novatopia’s. He belonged to the miserable ones. She had to tone down her feelings.
Lake Yoa was estimated to be a primal lake formed at least 5,000,000 years ago. It was 800 meters wide and 3.2 kilometers long. It was the biggest saltwater lake on Earth. The Great Saharan Aquifer was the reason such a lake formed in the middle of the Sahara.
Under the Sahara, water that has been accumulated for millions of years flowed from Algeria to Sudan. The aquifer’s depth was estimated to be 1,000 meters on average and at the deepest point, 4,000 meters. In other words, a river that was thousands of meters deep flowed under the Sahara.
Lake Yoa maintained its land thanks to the water supplied by this aquifer despite rapid evaporation. The western shore of the lake, a level ground, harbored Yoa House. The eastern shore was a rocky slope.
Once one scaled the gravel desert, a region of pink dunes unfurled before one’s eyes. Then the navy blue lake showed itself. Orifice had referred to it as tourism’s best asset. Humans could try but will never understand the mystery of nature.
The eastern shore of the lake had become immensely crowded. Crowds that looked like a pack of clouds gathered. Hundreds of construction searchlights lit up the shore and the lake as bright as day. The number of searchlights rounded up in a mere hour represented the dynamic nature of Novatopia. It reminded Mu Ssang of the construction of the Gyeongbu Expressway in the 70s.
More than 20,000 residents had gathered on the shore. Many were still climbing the slope. The guards struggled to control the crowd. The residents bustled and squirmed to acquire a seat closer to the lake. Most of them waited for the owner of Novatopia but some were participating in heated debates.
Mu Ssang had pondered, for a long time, about the way to unify Novatopia. Novatopia was a museum of ethnicities, tribes, and religions. Yet they still were fickle humans. Every resident of this country has experienced a dead end in their life. Currently, they heeded orders and were united but over time, conflicts were likely to happen. Multiculturalism rarely proved successful throughout history.
In the late 19th century, when Britain and France colonized the islands in the South Pacific Ocean, the indigenous people developed a new religion called “cargo cults.”
The indigenous people considered the cargo unloaded from the European ships, such as canned food, rifled muskets, radios, and rum bottles, as special objects sent to them by their ancestral gods. They thought the Caucasians had stolen the gifts of their ancestral gods. Even though they thought so, they did not have the power to “retrieve” the goods from the Europeans.
They made statues that looked like the white people’s objects, such as antennae, cars, and guns, and lined them up along the shore. Then they waited for the ancestral gifts to arrive. Voodoo could also be considered as a mixture of these cargo cults combined with local shamanism.
Humans could never become the rational archetype that Kant spoke of. No detailed analysis was needed. Humans were homo sapiens as well as homo religiosus. All thoughts ended up in religion. Even atheists had a religion called atheism.
We should never laugh at cargo cults. Modern humans were also in a different kind of cargo cult. People who were enthralled by idol celebrities and star athletes, people buried in social media, adults collecting LEGO goods, middle-aged Japanese men collecting used panties. There were many cargo cultists among us.
Mu Ssang considered the refugees gathered in Novatopia as a sort of cargo cultists. Jesus and Buddha were great because they preached universal values, not materialism. Only a great shock that shakes the deepest roots of consciousness could unroot belief in a cult image.
Mu Ssang envisioned a kind of a metaphorical furnace in which unity was possible through a powerful central figure and an open religion. Mu Ssang directed a shocking performance, inspired by Jesus’s life.
On March 21st, AD 32, at three a.m., Jesus walked on the Sea of Galilee. Was he exercising? Not at all. He wore the robe of a high priest and manifested the miracle of walking on water to show that he is the Messiah.
Inspired by that act, Mu Ssang had decided to walk on Lake Yoa at night when the moon was bright. If he spewed Gongjinpa through his soles, he could walk on water. The deeper the water was, the less efficient it was. He could not do it for a long time but it was a feasible idea.
Fortunately, Lake Yoa was, on average, seven meters deep. Along the perimeter, it was shallower. With such depth, he could walk up to 200 to 300 meters.
“Dino, you have some work to do tonight to pay for the rice you eat.”
Dino grumbled at its owner’s intent to give it work.
‘Rice? I eat meat.’
Dino thought. It was intelligent but it still could not understand an idiomatic phrase.
“You will see if you follow me.”
Mu Ssang headed for the lake with Dino in tow. He could not swim to the spot. It was not classy. Mu Ssang pushed Dino into the lake and mounted it. He did not realize he already had a great vehicle to cross the lake.
Big cats liked water. Jaguars lived near a river or lake. They would jump into the water and hunt crocodiles. A tiger could swim as fast as 20 kilometers per hour.
A howl erupted from Dino’s giant echo chamber. The sound waves rippled the water and waves approached the eastern shore. The sudden roar silenced the crowd.
Among the big cats, a jaguar was the most similar to Dinofelis. After getting the hang of it, Dino swam masterfully. With its wide front paws, it rowed and with its hind legs, it powerfully kicked at the water.
Mu Ssang had trained his balance on a twig as thick as a wrist in valley water and on top of a bamboo rod. The squirming back of Dino was like a wide living room.
Dino swam across Lake Yoa at a speed that matched that of a motorboat. Mu Ssang’s gandoura danced in the wind. The giant beast swimming across the lake in a straight line and the man on its back gazing at the moon made quite a picturesque scene.
Mu Ssang jumped off Dino’s back when they were 300 meters from the shore. He lightened his body and spewed Gongjinpa through his soles. His legs, submerged in the water up to his knees, rose suddenly. Gongjinpa supported his balance and applied surface tension on the water to support his body.
“Bring the searchlights to the lake!”
Samdi shouted, sensing his master’s presence. Hundreds of searchlights headed for the lake. A figure in a white gandoura, under the light of the full moon, stepping on water, was revealed. An apocalyptic panic swept through the crowd..
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