Chapter 373: Chapter 39 Episode 13: Congo, Fist of Justice
Germaine stopped talking and drank the cold coffee.
Damn b*stard. I need to know things before I become a squad leader, right?
Germaine gritted his teeth at the left-wing government, which created an absurd position called the strategic advisor. Fortunately, there was no common enemy because if a war broke out during the meeting, he would be killed.
âMajor General Philip, the Fist of Justice operation has taken a turn for the worse. Ange de la Mort is not French or a Legion Etranger mercenary. Will he voluntarily walk into hell even if you do manage to convince him?â Germaine asked in a worried tone.
âAnge de la Mort is a member of Legion Etranger, who values honor more than life. I am not incompetent to the point that I canât control my subordinates, and Ange de la Mort isnât so rude as to ignore his superiors. Heâll willingly walk into hell with a word from me.â
Philip was confident. He knew why Black Mamba got rid of Miguel and Tanshe brutally. Black Mamba was a typical Korean who valued loyalty and was weak around those whom he cared about. The fact that he flew in immediately after receiving the notice meant that he was keeping his promise. Since he already obtained his consent, there was no reason not to brag.
Why is this person so confident? Germaine, who was dumbfounded, stared at Philip.
The rank of Special Military Advisor was at the level of a deputy minister. Black Mamba was a subordinate in name but actually several ranks higher than Philip.
âPhilip, youâve become a politician with those extra stars. Perhaps, youâve found a way to put a bell around a tigerâs neck. Do you have insurance? Why arenât you saying that all of this will be something that never happened if the rescue operation fails?â Bonipas mocked.
Philip glared at Bonipas.
âIsnât your specialty shoving operation teams into a crocodileâs mouth? The relationship between Ange de la Mort and me is built on trust, not money. Heâs a proud and patriotic warrior of Legion Etranger. Heâs someone I can trust.â
âIf you say so, then so be it.â
Philipâs forced opinion left a bitter taste in Bonipasâ mouth, but he refrained from further argument. The ârelationship built on trustâ Philip mentioned meant, âI wonât be responsible for his death.â âPatrioticâ meant that Black Mamba only moved with satisfactory monetary compensation. âProudâ meant that Black Mamba was a foreigner who lurked around without knowing the value of his life.
Philip certainly changed. While he did have a strong political personality back then, it wasnât to this extent. He turned into a politician ever since he became a general.
Idiot! Heâll get himself into trouble one day.
Philip had no idea how scary Black Mamba was, just like how his superior was back in the day. He treated the person whom the president considered a VVIP as nothing but a trained predator, cyborg, a death he didnât have to take responsibility for, and a megatons worth of nuclear bomb thatâs controllable.
Black Mamba was not just any simple person. He wasnât just a powerful grizzly but an intelligent predator. At a glance, someone like Philip would get eaten up. Black Mamba was truly fearsome because he carefully hid his claws, he was sharp enough to see through other peopleâs intentions, and he was cruel enough to pursue a traitor to hell.
Black Mamba, a patriotic macho? That was false. The way to that reasonable patriotâs heart was through honest dealings. Bonipas himself considered Black Mamba a nuclear bomb that had no risk of radioactive contamination, but Philipâs train of thoughts had a different starting point.
âThank you, Philip. If you manage to convince Ange de la Mort, Iâll be in your debt.â
âDonât worry, sir.â
Philip was confident about putting his trust in Black Mamba.
âBonipas, isnât it time for Ange de la Mort or Ddu-bai-buru-pa to arrive?â
Bonipas checked his watch at Peronâs words.
âIt is time. Heâll come in soon. Ange de la Mort hates his code name. Since he requested to be called Ddu-bai-buru-pa, you should keep that in mind.â
âThis b*stardâs asking for a lot of things when heâs just a hitman.â
Bonipas glanced at Peron, who was complaining under his breath, before quickly turning away. There was no hope for people who only realized the difference between s*** or bean paste after eating them.
The main character who the Oecophylla smaragdinas were expecting didnât appear in the headquarters but in the Legion Etranger headquartersâ company equipment shelter. Following behind Black Mamba, who was pouting, were the expressionless black tower Samedi and four soldiers.
Once they got off the plane, Abe and his group were escorted by the DGSE intelligence officers waiting at de Gaulle Airport. Soldiers from the Ministry of Defenseâs Protocol Department escorted Black Mamba and Samedi.
Black Mamba ignored the soldiers, who were guiding him, and went to look for his friend, Emil, first. He was called in just as he was about to look for his mother. There was no way he was in a good mood. It didnât matter whether the old men were waiting or not. It was best to talk to old friends when in a bad mood. Even Samedi, who was cheering at the sight of countless people and cars, noticed his masterâs mood and followed him around quietly.
âWhat happens if you put a fuse box on the same shelf as a grenade powder box?â
âIt is dangerous.â
âSo, why did you do something dangerous?â
âIâm sorry, sir.â
âYou wanted to blow a damn sergeant away, hm?â
âNo, sir.â
âWell, I completely understand. You feel like exploding since you havenât been outside for three weeks, right?â
âNo, sir. Iâm taking care of my needs in the bathroom.â
Black Mamba, who was listening in, laughed. It seemed like the act of bullying newbies was not at all different in both the Korean Army and Legion Etranger.
âOi, partner! Stop bullying that pitiful legionnaire.â
âHuh!â
Emil jumped as though he had been shot by a gun. It was such a familiar voice, one that he missed. His head turned like it was going to break.
âYou, you, you, you!â
Emil ran toward him with a limp. He hugged Black Mamba quite suddenly and spun him once. To the troublemaker Emil, Black Mamba was his only family, friend, and boss.
âDude, Iâm not a woman. Stop this performance. Iâm getting goosebumps. You look good.â
âOf course. Itâs the dream job I got because of you, friend. I was waiting for my partner since I received an equipment shipping order. You heard about the Areva hostage incident in Congo, right?â Emil, who couldnât hold back his glee, was still smiling.
âMm, they called me in for that. Colonel Juan from the Korean Embassy briefed me. It seems like the mood isnât that great.â
âOf course it isnât, not after those b*stards sent the wrists of the hostages. Itâs been over three hours since the higher-ups came in one after another. Itâs like someone shoved dry ice into boiling water. Minister Germaine, the Operation Strategic Advisor, and the head of the 11th Airborne Brigade are rumored to be dismissed soon.â
âWhatâs with that old man?â
âA weekend article titled âFist of Justice vs. The Most Useless Act of the Centuryâ made the headlines of Le Monde. The sacrifices for Mitterrandâs wrath have been decided. To maintain his position, Germaine must be jumping around like a bullfighter fighting a bull with horns on fire.â
âThatâs unfortunate. He even dragged his old body all the way to the Sahel to protect that position of his. Tsk tsk.â
Black Mamba clicked his tongue.
âFor every b*stard who smiles, there is a b*stard who cry. Dude, if you had retired after the Raccoon plan, those higher-ups would be pulling out their hair by now. Act out as much as you can this time and get every single penny of your worth. Hahaha!â
Emil didnât know that Black Mamba was involved in the Ruman plan. Just imagining those stubborn higher-ups clinging on to Black Mamba made him laugh.
âHahaha!â
Black Mamba also laughed brightly for the first time in a long while. He felt happier looking at his friend, who remained cheerful even after losing a leg. Although there were 22 poor hostages whose status was up in the air, there were 1,000,000s of others in the world who led more pitiful lives.
âEdelâs doing well, right? Did you leave her alone again?â
âDude, why are you prying into someone elseâs love life? Do you still swing your lower half around?â
âIâve nothing to do, so I should at least do that. Ah, and I heard about the snake who used to be a nurse. That b****âs pretty unfortunate to be caught by you twice. That damn b****, the 50,000 francs I shoved into her holeâs gone.â
âHow long do you intend to live like that? Shouldnât you plan for your retirement?â
âWhatâs the point of saving money when I donât even have a family? Youâll take care of my retirement anyway. Ombuti sent me my investmentâs dividend statement. 400,000 francs conceived a child of 100,000 francs in a year. Itâs money that I canât touch because of someone, but Iâm still a rich man! Hahaha!â
Their conversation turned into a catching-up session.
âHm⊠hm!â
One of the Ministry of Defense soldiers who escorted Black Mamba from the airport purposely coughed. Emil glanced at the soldier. Wrinkles settled on Black Mambaâs forehead.
âSenior Master Sergeant, are you uncomfortable?â
âThe minister is waiting for you, sir.â
âTell him to wait some more!â
âItâs not polite, sir.â
The soldierâs face turned red at his inconsiderate reply. Samedi, who was standing behind Black Mamba like an iron tower, whooshed through the air.
âRude b*stards!â
Bangâ
It was the Theory of Rudeness being put into action.
âUgh!â
The leader, who was attacked by the front paw of a bear on the back of his head, flew two to three meters and slammed his nose into the ground. Blood gushing out of the nose of the unconscious leader soaked the ground.
âPutain!â
Surprised, the other three soldiers took out their batons and rushed at Samedi. The French military baton wasnât straight like the ones in Korea but bent 15 degrees to the side like a Kukri. It was to increase the impact.
Slap slap slapâ
The angled baton landed on Samedi like hail. Unlike the Korean police, French soldiers could exercise unlimited self-defense if they felt threatened. Samedi received those attacks without blinking. Samedi ignored the batons that incessantly fell on him like hail and turned to look at Black Mamba.
âWakil, should I bury them?â
âWhatâs the point of dealing with weak b*stards?â Black Mamba answered in a monotonous tone.
Samedi, who received monk Dae Wooâs teachings, didnât touch the weak. Samediâs hand swung in the air once. He grabbed all of their batons with his iron-like hand. Samedi looked pleased. He was also surprised by the Stealing Guard of 100 Hands, which he learned from the great master.
âUh, what?â
The three soldiers, who had their batons taken away, stepped back. Just as they were about to grab the gun in their holster, all three batons made of ash wood broke in his hand.
Crackâ
âYou will die if youâre rude to master. Iâm letting you guys live because youâre all weak.â
Samedi said something terrifying and threw down the broken batons at their feet.
âUhhhh, monster!â the three soldiers screamed as they stepped back further.
Their leader, who had fallen to the ground, raised his upper body. He shook his head and stared blankly at Samedi.
âWow! Amazing, brilliant!â Emil cheered.
He thought Black Mambaâs strength was natural, but the aura of the black man following him around was just spectacular. He acted just like Black Mamba in his youth, firm and without reservation.
âBlack, who is this guy?â
âFamily,â Black Mamba simply answered.
âI see.â Emil nodded.
The people around Black Mamba were either friends or family.
âYou guys almost lost your lives just now. Be careful,â Black Mamba warned in a solemn tone.
The four soldiers couldnât reply and continued to stare blankly at Samedi. For the first time since they were born, they were in great confusion.
âHey, whatâs your name?â
âSamedi!â Samedi answered Emilâs question.
âIâm wakilâs friend, Emil.â
âI know. Wakilâs friends also get hit if theyâre rude.â
âGods, hereâs another one like Ombuti. Black, where do you keep finding these monsters?â
âItâs fate.â Black Mamba smiled widely.
Emil looked serious.
âFriend, be careful this time. The Sahel was rough, but Ituri is called the Devilâs Forest. Tell me anything that you need. Iâll even give you an AMX-30[1]. Iâm sad we canât go together. We were the best combination.â
Emil tapped his left prosthetic leg. He had to amputate his leg as his bone was starting to rot.
âI donât need a paper-thin AMX. Look for a weapon that Samedi can use. You donât need to mind the weight. Iâll let you know the things that I need in the evening.â
âOk, this black friend of ours seems like he can swing an Area gun. Iâll look for a heavy machine gun or mortar. If there is nothing, I can slip him a developing sample.â
âDonât push yourself.â
âDonât worry. I can even get my hands on the Yankeeâs newest weapon if I ask Bellman. For the first time, I pity those soldiers. You should go. Those higher-ups should still be waiting for you.â
âThey can wait. Friends are 100 times more precious than those old men,â Black Mamba replied coldly.
Several people had to stick their necks out in waiting because of the lives they led. They had to experience it too so that they could understand what their subordinates went through.
âThis is why I like you so much. Although you might not get into trouble, Iâm nothing but a powerless sergeant. By now, those friendsâ insides would have turned into coal. You know how it is. Weâve nothing to suck on but our fingers if we get fired.â
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Emil pointed to the soldiers, who were moving around restlessly, like ants without their antennae.
âRight. I should work for my second country, France. Itâs time to be Black Mamba again, isnât it?â
Mu Ssang turned around, leaving behind a bitter comment.
[1] Franceâs main battle tank before the development of the Leclerc. Itâs maneuverable and has excellent firepower.