Chapter 238: Chapter 27, Episode 13: For Whom The Bell Tolls
Look at the actions of the ANO!
They were the Order of Assassins. Their true purpose was to reconstruct the Aloadin kingdom. Their values were upheld by the teachings of Ismaâilism. They were an extremely exclusive sect. For their own purposes and the execution of what they believed was good, they only hear what they wanted to hear, and see what they wanted to see.
Other religions, sects, and ideas were subjected to demolition. Othersâ happiness wasnât their concern. They executed extreme actions of superiority and discrimination that Black Mamba hated.
Like how Asuraâs status alternated between good and evil depending on the religion, good and evil could always be adjusted according to human values.
Being good or evil werenât the conditions that made one human. In fact, the universal moral code should serve as guidance for human conditions. Black Mambaâs face brightened up. His trip to Syria hadnât been a waste. He had an idea of the conditions that conformed people to be human, a question that had been sitting heavily on his mind.
Deep in thoughts, Black Mambaâs forehead creased.
A great howling knocked on his brain. It was a howl filled with bloodlust and ill intent.
âJamal, didnât you hear anything strange?â
The howling sounded again.
Those werenât sound waves transmitted through the air. The howls were like emotions transferred directly to his brain. It was something heâd experienced at the Nakdong River.
On a foggy night where there was a full moon, countless soldiers had risen from the river in lines. There hadnât been a single sound or water ripple. They had simply emerged, head first. There were corroded metal hats on their skulls. They had surfaced with backpacks on their backs, and corroded rifles slung around their shoulders.
When the formation had been established, their silent march began. The sound of boots walking across the water made it seem as though they were walking on the ground.
Canteens knocking against the butt of their rifles sounded.
A long cry, which sounded as though they were begging for something, had replaced their chants. The marching skeletons had stood before him in lines, like always. 1,000s of skeleton soldiers howled together.
They wanted something. He just didnât know what. What could a 12-years-old who had been confined to the life of a slave in his uncleâs house know? He could only watch. There was resentment in the skeletonâs eyes. At least, that was what he thought.
The marching skeletons had disappeared into the water again.
No one else had seen the skeleton soldiers aside from Mu Ssang. His teacher had referred to them as the lost bodies. He had sealed the ability, saying that it was an evil secondary skill only a human with developed dantians could see.
However, that wasnât the howling of the hollow presence heâd experienced in the past. It wasnât lost souls, either. They werenât the remains of a pure body, but the real deal. It was a howl filled with madness, bloodlust, injustice, and all kinds of negative emotions.
His blood boiled. A similar fighting spirit from when he had met Ocelot arose within him. He wanted to tear apart the being, which made the sound. Black Mambaâs eyes turned light red. He started emanating a strong bloodlust.
âMaster, master!â Jamal shouted pathetically.
Jamalâs face turned blue from the intense bloodlust.
He turned his head towards the direction of the whining.
Jamal screamed when he made eye contact with Black Mamba. At Azraelâs arrival, all of his hair was raised, his eyes turned light red, and his expression turned grim.
âAllahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.â
He was the angel of death whose stare was said would end a humanâs life. Jamal shoved his head between his knees and quivered.
One side of his head rang. A peppermint scented energy spread around his brain and cooled it down. His head felt more refreshed.
âOm manni banme hom, omââ
He calmed his mind with the mind centering technique.
Black Mambaâs eyes returned to its original color. His hair, which had been floating about, swayed back down. The bloodlust, which had filled the air, disappeared like it was washed away.
âJamal, did you know about this place?â
Jamal raised his head at the calm voice. As usual, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa was expressionless.
Did I imagine it? No. He was the Azrael.
Jamal shook his head from side to side.
âJamal, I asked if you knew about this place.â
âWhat? Yes! Despite eight active years with the ANO, I didnât have a clue. After all, I was a special forces warrior and didnât stay very long at the Aloadin.â
âSpecial forces warrior?â
âItâs a self-destructing terrorist, to be exact.â
âHa, youâd be willing to self-destruct when ordered to do so? Isnât Islam especially wary of bodily harm?â
âItâs considered an exception when punishing heathens and betrayers. We were told that Aloadinâs angels would descend and restore our bodies to normal.â
âF*** that s****. Those b*stards are saying whateverâs convenient for them.â Black Mamba snorted.
Those were techniques that the Korean politicians had often used. Whatever they did, it was all considered romantic.
âYes, sir. I also believed them before I met you, master. Now, I feel as though Iâve awakened from a nightmare.â
âPeople become heathens when their basic morals are swayed by the frustration and dissatisfaction with reality. Hm, should I break it?â
He embedded the Gorgon with his resonance. Its body vibrated. The Gorgon hit the floor with its violent vibrations.
Despite a power enough to shatter a 10-inch concrete slab floor, only the surface broke. The floor was covered with 50 millimeters of rock. A black light illuminated from between the broken rocks. He embedded another wave of resonance into the Gorgon.
The Gorgon vibrated. Its vibration became more intense. A cloud of white smoke started following the whip.
The Gorgon flew in a cycloid curve and landed on the floor violently.
The large basement shook as though it would collapse. Jamal, who was covering his ears, stumbled.
The Gorgon bounced back up. Electricity ran through his hands at the unnatural rebound. He almost released the whip. The black floor didnât budge. It was made from an unusual type of metal. It had returned the exact cycloid curve like a squash court wall. There was no chance of shattering it.
âJamal, this place wasnât built by the ANO. Thereâs another basement underneath. Bansiri opened this place to escape.â
He tapped on the floor, which the Gorgon had once opened, revealing a 50 centimeters diameter circle.
âThere are several secret places in Aloadin built during ancient times. I could wear the five-point badge due to the bullet in my thigh, but in actuality, I am an outsider. I donât know the organizationâs secrets, sir. Iâm sorry.â
âWhat are you sorry about? The ANO were the ones who built a secret hiding place beneath a pre-existing basement. Itâs just unfortunate that I donât have the time to investigate it.â
Black Mamba clicked his tongue. The unknown howling remained in his brain, causing discomfort. There were about 40 to 50 minutes left until daylight. There wasnât enough time.
âI wonder if I can visit again?â
After checking his watch, Black Mamba left the underground basement with a regretful expression. The unknown presence remained at a corner of his mind.
The sun still rose despite the empty plains. The sunlight soared beyond the meaningless rocky hills like spears. It was 30 minutes before sunrise.
âMaster, donât we have to leave?â Jamal asked carefully.
He feared for his master, who seemed to be too comfortable. Kaparja Valley was an isolated region, but the grand explosions at dawn and the sound of demolishing cliffs could be heard from 100s of kilometers away.
âJamal, an important target remains. Hold on.â
Black Mamba took out the encrypted, compressed satellite transmitter from his backpack. He spread the parabolic antenna, which was the size of two palms. He changed the transmitterâs compiler hull mode to dialog mode. There was a possibility of interception, but now wasnât the time to be picky.
âDong-bang-bull-pae here, there are 1,000 pomegranate seeds raised with electricity and water. There are some pollutants amongst the crushed pomegranates. A lot of money is needed for repackaging. There are also dodo birds nests. Call back in five minutes if youâre interested in purchasing.â
He turned the switch off after saying what he wanted to say.
A dodo birdâs nest referred to missiles. The pomegranates raised with electricity and water meant that there was a hydroelectric power plant. The pollutants referred to biological and chemical weapons. Heâd made them up randomly but trusted that the DGSE would figure it out.
An embarrassing growl came from Black Mambaâs stomach. Jamal fidgetted in embarrassment and pity. It was the wrongdoing of a servant who had disregarded his masterâs hunger. On the other hand, he found his masterâs humane side welcoming, unlike the untouchable position heâd been in.
âTsk, the explosives took up the emergency rationsâ space.â
There were too many things. Heâd only packed a few C-rations to reduce its weight. He hadnât known that the situation would get critical so quickly. His stomach had long digested the C-ration.
Jamal pulled out a hard bread from his pocket. Tortillas were baked round dough filled with fresh vegetables and ham. However, the bread was just baked tortilla dough pressed together. It was due to the food shortage.
Without enough fermentation and proofing, it became hard as stone. Jamal focused on cutting off the soiled bread crust with his pocket knife.
âMaster, itâs not much, but please take it.â
Jamal humbly handed him the bread. Black Mambaâs sunken eyes darted between the bread and Jamalâs gaunt face. The mitochondria in his cells, which produced ATP, moved actively while his brain waves started stabilizing.
When the brain waves stabilized, the image captured on his dimensional sight was brighter. On the other hand, without enough cell activity, it would destabilize his brain waves. Jamalâs were grey. That meant his metabolism was slow.
Black Mamba received the bread gratefully. A humanâs true nature appeared in times of crisis. Jamal, himself, was starving. Black Mamba was thankful that Jamal cared enough to give him the bread that heâd been saving up for himself. If he refused otherâs sincerity, it would be an insult. He cut it in half and handed it to Jamal.
âSir, your servant is fine.â
âJamal, thereâs no human above other humans and no human below other humans. Donât call me master. Iâm Dong-bang-bull-pae. Thereâs a country called Korea at the eastern end. Anyone who shares their food is considered family over there. You and I will share a bread today. I recognize Amud Jamal as my family. You and I, Dong-bang-bull-pae, will become brothers, and you will receive my protection.â
Black Mamba, whose communication skills and cheating abilities have improved, showed the aura of a nobleman.
Jamalâs eyes widened like big raindrops. He received the bread with trembling hands. He pulled out a cloth from his pocket and wrapped the precious bread. It was a bread that the apostle and Azrael, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, had offered. It was a holy object that he had to preserve as long as he could.
âSir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, how can I be your brother? Thatâs impossible. Iâve walked the path of a sinner because of the foolish ideas Iâve had during my youth. Your great soul has saved me, one whose worth is lesser than a worm, and itâs more than an honor to be treated like a human, sir. I will hold your shoes for the rest of my life.â
Black Mamba smiled in silence. Somehow, he had become a terrorist, but he was pure by nature. A humble person couldnât be evil.
The civil twilight[1] cast a halo above Black Mambaâs head. Jamal looked up at Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa in awe.
âBismillahi Rahmani Rahim, Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam Ddu-bai-buru-pa!â [2]
Jamal burst into tears. The awaited apostle had arrived. He wasnât a weak apostle who was all talk, but a true apostle with strength and power. Even the Ismailis, a small sect of the Shia Muslims, had waited a long time for the apostleâs arrival.
The bread tasted horrible. It was hard as a rock, not sweet, and salty. It was a typical kind of training center food. For someone with crocodile teeth, he didnât mind, but the average human would hurt their teeth from eating it.
âJamal, thereâs no time.â
Black Mamba rushed Jamal, who wasnât eating the bread.
âI cannot eat this bread, sir. It is a holy object that will convey the legend of Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa for generations.â
âHah!â Black Mamba pounded on his chest out of frustration.
For some reason, all the humans he took in became more strange. He didnât realize that he was the cause.
âJamal, itâs said that a ghost who dies after eating has lived a good life.â
âWhat does that mean, sir?â
âIt means one must eat to their fill and maintain a healthy body before returning to Allahâs side.â
âAh! Those are amazing words. Still, I canât. I will search in the food storage room. Date palms can still be eaten even when itâs burnt, sir.â
Black Mamba slapped his forehead at the word âdate palms.â There was a customized C-ration in his backpack, which the DGSE had given him. The C-ration was filled with special chocolates made from date palms. Heâd forgotten about it trying to concentrate on the battle.
In Parisâ Rue Saint-Dominique, No. 14, the DGSE strategic headquarters,
The Gauloises filled Bonipasâ office with a fishy smell, like always. Bonipas was staring at the wall before him with a cigarette in his mouth. A huge electronic map of Paris was reflected on the wall.
The DGSEâs Ministry of Interior went into full-fledged emergency mode after receiving Black Mambaâs compressed message. Currently, 10 groups of the GIGN were lurking around Paris-Charles de Gaulle airport and the OpĂŠra Bastille. The entranceâs guards and guides had been replaced with agents from the strategic division.
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The strategic office door was flung open. The head of strategies, Ariba, and the head of intelligence, Claude, jumped in.
[1] ć¨ć, the period right after dawn or just before the sun rises.
[2] âIn the name of God, the most gracious and merciful, may peace be upon Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa!â