Chapter 209: Chapter 26, Episode 3: The Syria-Ruman Plan
âBellman, howâs the business going?â
âOh, Black! Itâs enough to live on. If Americaâs security was a little weaker, you could have built a summer house in Maine, Black. Hurry over. Iâll steam for you a sea lobster that is fished right out of Maine.â
Bellmanâs cheerful voice ran down the line and raced through 1,000s of kilometers. His real name was Davis, but Bellman was a name that Black Mamba had gotten used to.
âIâll eat that lobster next time. I got called in, you see. Can you guess anything?â
Mu Ssang didnât want to be dragged into something without knowing the situation. Bellman used to be a CIA scene officer in Central Asia. Gaining some information shouldnât be hard with his connections.
âGot it. Call me in two hours.â
Bellman didnât disappoint him. He shared information regarding the terror attacks in France and the possible backers behind the attacks in Syria.
âThanks. If I collect some guns again, Iâll send them through Emil.â
âKekeke, thatâs good. Be careful.â
Black-haired and white-haired beauties underneath the 18-seater private jet trap bowed their backs in a traditional, oriental way. One was a tall, blue-eyed Norman woman with a high nose bridge while the other was a brown-skinned, half-Spanish woman. Both were wearing tops that revealed most of their breasts and a short miniskirt that barely covered their lower body.
âEnchantĂ©. Je suis se voire!â
âHa! F*** you!â he replied in Korean.
When they bowed with their revealing clothes, a womanâs G-cup chest fell out. Unlike Black Mamba, who was surprised, the woman simply rearranged her clothes with a smile.
âHm, sheâs trying so hard,â Black Mamba mumbled in Korean.
It was a type of s*x business. Regardless of the east or the west, the best form of bribery was s*x. Bonipas must have blabbed to the Ministry of Interior that Black Mamba was weak against women. Well, he supposed the misunderstanding was justified considering how Edel had stayed by his side the entire time during his hospitalization.
Black Mambaâs gaze swept past the two women who were attempting their most sexy poses. The white woman with shiny golden hair spread her legs slightly. It was a provocative pose. She was sexy enough that men would drool over her.
âUseful!â Black Mamba commented soullessly and entered the plane.
The golden-haired woman and an extremely curvy woman stared at each other in disbelief.
When he pressed a button, the seat automatically transformed. It was a seat that was much more comfortable than a bed. It was way different compared to his first flight on a DC-10, which he had boarded with a heavy heart.
The countryside Mu Ssang, who used to wear worn-out jumpers and stretched out pants, had disappeared. Back then, he had been a sans-papiers[1]. Now, he was the special military advisor, major Park, attended by golden and black-haired stewardesses.
Black Mamba had meditated throughout the entire flight. His posture didnât change, despite the jet turbulence and the 50 meters drop from the air.
[You donât think your sins are cleared now, do you? F****** b*stard, Iâll send you to court once and for all. Iâm going to show you the power of a prosecutor.]
The words of prosecutor Kim Dal Soo, who had said it on the day of his probation, rang in his ears. Even now, he could still see the manâs eerie smile and smell his rotten breath. He hadnât been able to say anything back then. He could have turned the manâs face into mush with a single wave if he had known how to become one with nature back then. Otherwise, Kim Dal Soo would have been discovered as a corpse.
Kim Dal Soo, you should be living a good life since youâve received bribes for the next few years. Enjoy that bonus for now while I work for food. Power of a prosecutor? Youâre a wimp who canât do anything without the organization behind your back. Iâll show you my power instead.
His brain, which should have been satisfied with his rising value, kept reminiscing about the past.
âBonuru, do you know him?â Jeanne asked the blue-eyed woman.
âNot at all, we only received orders to serve him well. What do you think âdo whatever he asks forâ means?â
âHm, Iâd jump on him even if there wasnât such an order. Heâs got a good build and looks handsome even though heâs yellow.â
âWho do you think he is? He didnât even blink when the airplane was shaking. Itâs strange that the company didnât tell us his name.â
âItâs strange, but I donât need to know that. There are only two important things here.â
âKikiki. A wallet and the lower bottom?â
âMm, a man whoâs successful enough to ride a private plane, and a man whoâs handsome enough that one looks forward to his next generation. What else do you need?â
âSince itâs going to be nighttime when we arrive, I guessâŠâ
Jeanne twisted her long legs.
âCrazy b****, are you already overflowing because of a male?â
âHeâs too handsome to be yellow, donât you think? His body is a piece of art. Thereâs not a spot of fat.â
âUgh, itâs already hard.â
Bonuru poked Jeanneâs breast with her finger.
âOh, Bonuru, stop, stop it. I get wet easily. I donât want to change my underwear.â Jeanne shivered.
âJeanne, donât get too greedy. Donât you remember the last time you received a warning?â
âHmph, the officer from the DGA was at fault. Who told him to be blinded by sex? I only lent him my lower body to gain some information. That f***** got me a six months suspension from office, do you think that makes sense? Iâm going to eat up the general director and embarrass him by showing up on Canal+.â Jeanne sniffed as though she was mad.
âCrazy b****. The problem is that the information was about the development of le cholera. You received 5,000 francs by handing the information over to a consultant, didnât you?â
âMy lower body is expensive. That bald officer was a rabbit, anyway. I saw the losses, you know.â
âShut up, you got a good catch during your suspension as a nurse, didnât you? Give me that man.â
âHohoho, that bulky, idiotic mercenary? Donât even mention him. He got mad after a night. I burned his insides into crispy soot. We went off on a cruise, you see.â
Black Mambaâs ears twitched in the middle of his meditation. The two stewardesses were hiding behind the stewardessâ room. They were chattering, thinking theyâd lowered their voice, but everything could be heard like a stereo.
He flipped his consciousness at the mention of Jeanne, stupid mercenary, and cruise vacation. She was the woman who had accompanied Emil on vacation. The world really was a small place. The two women kept chattering.
âSo? How did you eat off him?â
âI told him that only a man with good economic skills could get my parentsâ permission. Then, he said he had 500,000 francs saved up.â
The blue-eyed womanâs voice went an octave up. Black Mamba rubbed his ears. The sudden change in sound frequency had given his ears a shock.
âB****, shush. The VVIP is sleeping.â
The curvy woman gave a warning. The blue-eyed woman lowered her voice immediately.
âSorry, if itâs a mercenary in his early 20s, isnât he a fraud?â
âYou think I canât tell the difference between a fraud and the real deal? No. Heâs an idiot who didnât even know how to lie. He said he had 60,000 francs in hand and wanted to get married immediately.â
âWhat about the other 400,000 francs?â
âHe mentioned something about a temperamental friend holding onto it. So, I received 50,000 francs for our wedding preparations.â
âOh my, oh my! 50,000 francs? How lucky.â
In a frenzy, the blue-eyed woman stomped on the planeâs floor in her slippers.
âKeke, the 50,000 francs was the problem. He said he could regain the other 400,000 francs when the vacationâs over. However, that damned friend of his had returned to his country.â
âDamn, that idiot got ripped off by his friend.â
âYes. Thatâs what I said. He got ripped off. I literally jumped up and down. How couldnât I, when my 400,000 francs went away just like that?â
âOh, how unfortunate. So?â
âUgh, suddenly, that b*stard got angry at me. He said he would shoot anyone who speaks poorly of his friend, even if itâs the president.â
âOh my, oh my God, isnât that b*stard a pervert? Maybe the person that he calls his friend is gay?â
âStop making up nonsense, that b*stard had an obsession with spraying semen all over women. I got mad too. I asked him who was more importantâhis friend or me?â
âSo, what did he say?â
âThat damned b*stard. He said that I was important, but not as much as his friend. He said heâll make a âhuiâ out of me. Do you know what âhuiâ means?â
âItâs a type of raw fish that those yellow people around the eastern edges eat, right? I saw it in the cafeteria at Koreaâs airport. You canât do barbarians that eat dogs. Did you break up?â
âYou b****. Why would you throw away a fountain? I tried to convince him with some amazing service in bed.â
Ha, Iâd rather die than be ill. Those b****es of a rag are doing a lot.
Black Mamba, who was labeled a swindler and a gay, snorted in disbelief. He felt as though he would go deaf if he heard anymore, and therefore closed off his senses.
There was one truth to the womenâs chatter. Emil was an idiot. He was an idiot who had shoved his blood-earned money up a womanâs bottom.
âThat damn b*stard, he ended up shoving his pe*is up a rotten bucket even after that confident display. How stupid is he to plan on marrying such a cheap woman?â Black Mamba lamented.
Like any other typical Spanish, Emil was an emotional guy who liked to play and spend his money. He was the kind of b*stard who would shove his blood-earned money up a womanâs rear.
Even upon his return to France, Emil couldnât get a hold of the 400,000 francs. The 400,000 francs were currently in Ombutiâs account. Ombuti would give Emil his money periodically. It was the best medication he could give Emil, who lived his life without calculations.
On the other hand, it wasnât as though he couldnât understand. Emil was a street boy who had grown up without parents. He didnât receive normal education, and the grandma heâd been taking care of had passed away just a few years prior.
Emil was someone who starved for love. He was the perfect target for swindlers and slags. Sweet words and gestures easily swayed him.
âI should make him marry as soon as possible. However, what should I do with those rags? They donât seem useful as tablecloths even if I do wash them.â
Black Mamba wondered about those ragsâ respective departments. Franceâs Ministry of Interior was large. Aside from the central department, no one knew the actual number of employees working in the Internal Defense, Regional, and Foreign departments.
The blue-eyed woman and curvy woman ran over like the wind.
âMonsieur, would you like a glass of wine? We also have Sciaccarello.â
The blue-eyed woman raised her legs slightly and placed it on the chair holder. Her white thighs were revealed. There was a dark shadow over the deepest part of her skirt, but Black Mamba didnât even pay it any attention.
There was no reason for a person to raise their chopsticks for a turbot hui after refusing a fresh longtooth grouper hui.
âNo, which department do you belong to, ladies?â
The two women stared at each other at the unexpected question. Their faces reflected confusion as they internally questioned the b*stardâs identity.
âIâm a government official too. Iâm in a position where some power can be used. I would like to repay you, friendly ladies.â
âWeâre in the âVIP protection divisionâ of the Ministry of Interior. Iâm Jeanne. This is Bonuru.â
A reply came immediately.
âVIP protection division? Hmm!â
It was a rather funny name for a division, but there was a division called the âVIP protection divisionâ in the National Police Department. He snorted. He could tell the French government workers were as useless, considering how they had assigned these rags as VIP protection workers.
Well, among all animals, humans were the only ones to be lured by visual aspects. The same went for females and males but specifically males.
The way a human male looked at a human female ran on the border of absurdity. They denied a flat butt responsible for healthy births and praised raised butts.
They criticized strong, thick waists that were as strong as metal cans and praised useless ant-thin waists. They hung their necks on facial features that had nothing to do with reproduction.
Having double eyelids had nothing to do with reproduction. Having high nose bridges didnât create superior children, either. An exceptional beauty with a 0.2 millimeters epidermis was no better than one of the lowest quality.
Besides, a human male measured a womanâs capacity based on these useless features. They sunk themselves on the baseless belief that a beautiful, kind woman would perform better. The rags before him were externally beautiful and thin. They were overflowing with kindness and elegance.
âAlright. I have a lot to think about. Donât bother me and be on standby.â
The two womenâs faces scrunched up at his order to leave.
A predatorâs glare escaped Black Mambaâs eyes. He was about to lose his sense of smell from their stench. Their stenches were stronger than when he had used to shovel excretions out of an antique bathroom. Just talking to them made him think about the guinea worm he had pulled out of a childâs leg.
The pouting blue eyeball and coal rushed to their waiting room. The blue-eyed woman and the curvy woman were now blue eyeball and coal to Black Mamba.
âDamn, I should change the pedestrian laws for women, elderly, and children. How are they crazier!â he complained as he shoved his body into the comfortable chair-bed.
He recalled the child who had ran towards him with a gun that was as tall and his teacher who had thrown his apprentice several meters outdoors at the age of 90.
As for women, it was up to them. While there were flower-scented women like Edel and Jin Soon, there were also foul-smelling women like blue eyeballs and coal.
I should wed that b*stard off to someone as soon as possible. Right, Mi Soon!
He recalled Yang Mi Soon, who used to live alone in the next room during his middle school days. She was the third daughter of the Jeomchon farmhouse and had always tried to help him out.
She was a poor older sister who had fled to her parentâs house in fear of her husbandâs abuse. Yang Mi Soon, who was brimming with love and also understanding, would make a great match with Emil, who lacked love. The b*stard struggling in a thick swamp was about to greet a new flower blooming in the morning.
The Ministry of Interiorâs private jet flew by a layer of clouds and decreased its speed as much as possible. Parisâ familiar cityscape spread beneath his feet. Normally, he would have to go through the departure process with the French Embassy in Korea, but a private jet had been prepared for the first time. That was how urgent they were.
âHehehe, this is the chance to raise my wage. Iâll show them what a hallucinating patient can do.â Black Mamba smirked.
Berliozâs Symphonie fantastique resonated. The damn b*stards had turned on the fourth movement, of all things, called Marching Towards the Guillotine. The massive cello and bass were led with heavy steps at a 4/4 beat in G minor.
It was a dark piece that he didnât like. The contents of the song were clichĂ©d and dull.
An idiot who loved an older woman faced a denial of love. The distressed idiot killed the woman and headed to the guillotine. Whatâs funnier was that the entire story was a hallucination.
Mu Ssang hated the agenda of ambiguous passion without reason. A cow would laugh at the fact that this was the most renowned romantic symphony.
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It was a symphony that seemingly predicted his future of floating around a bloody sea. He hated the piece even more for reminding him of the love he had shared with Hae Young, which was like a midsummer nightâs dream.
The landing wheels descended on the ground gently. He was already annoyed because of those rags. His mood worsened upon landing in Paris.
[1] An immigrant without proper work permits or identification.