Mercenary Black Mamba

The captain nodded his head.

He thought that jjol dda goo meant 'I will keep him alive for now.' It was the same instance as when the Australian natives had said 'kangaroo' meaning 'I don't know' but they had understood it as kangaroo and named it so.

"Captain, Belman we have a big problem."

Emil said out of breath as he ran to them from the barracks.

"Commander and Sergeant Mike are dying."

"Are you telling me they're dead or alive?"

The captain's tone was calm. There was nothing more to be surprised about.

"They are still alive."

"Stupid, I thought they were acting weird since yesterday."

Belman dragged Bronin along and ran to the barracks. The other mercenaries followed right behind them.

"Valboir! What do you think you're doing!"

The captain screamed. He was reaching the peak of annoyance. They weren't a rescue team but a burden. He resented Colonel Philip for sending these useless men. If his own team members had not experienced such atrocities previously, he may have ended up being just like them.

"Leave the commander and Mike to Belman. Take your team to go collect the supplies."

"I'm sorry."

Lieutenant Valboir took Jang Shin, Centienne, and Maxim and ran to Trident Rock.

"Living and dying are up to their own fate."

Black Mamba closed his eyes again. Other than his wish to get some sleep, he didn't care who lived or died.

Ah choo-

Sun WooHyun sneezed. The flies in the Sahel were relentless. He hadn't woken up even when the captain had kicked him but he had woken up as the flies flew up his nose and blocked his airways.

"What is this situation?"

He could not remember why he was lying on the ground. His mind which seemed to have gone out did not return. Separate from his mind, his body was intuitively starting to examine itself for injuries. His nervous system was functioning normally and his body seemed to be fine. There was no trace of bleeding. Only one place did he experience the sensation of pain.

'Kanma!'

The severe pain brought back his hazy memory back into his consciousness.

'I was destroyed by that Kanma kid.'

Hit by the reality of it, Sun WooHyun's mind spun vigorously.

He had examined his body but had found no injuries. Kanma could break someone's skull with one blow or explode his heart without any bother. He could not figure out why his body was left intact.

Also, his hands and feet were not restrained. The unexpected situation caused him confusion.

'Did that Kanma punk take drugs?'

He remembered him saying that 'the North Korean Communists were still the same race as him.'

He slowly opened his eyes.

He opened his left eye, which was on the opposite side of the sunlight, in a sliver only. If his eyes reflected the sunlight, they could know that he was conscious.

'What?'

The devil was asleep and snoring. He was splayed out comfortably. He had never imagined that there would be a guy who could sleep peacefully next to an opponent he had beat into unconsciousness. This was the first time in his life he had met something this insane. He, as Tubilis, had never been treated in this way before.

"Treating me like a worm."

Sun WooHyun thought that he wouldn't be able to suppress his anger unless he could get revenge of Kanma. He checked his surroundings with his eyes barely opened. He saw his abandoned bayonet at an arms reach away.

"Narochi, you want to try coming at me again?"

The monster spoke without even opening his eyes.

"Ah!"

Sun WooHyun, who had slowly reached out his hand for the bayonet, flinched and retreated. That guy's senses were too alert.

"You dare to look down on the Sun WooHyun, reconnaissance leader Namir?"

Sun WooHyun blurted out in anger.

"Of course I do. Even women aren't scared of red worms like you. With those pathetic skills, how could you call yourself a dragon? Red Narochi, don't you think? I will applaud your bravery though."

Sun WooHyun's face turned as red as a pig's liver. How dare he call this celebrated reconnaissance leader a red worm? Although when comparing himself to Black Mamba, he couldn't really disagree that he was merely a worm. His skyrocketing pride had come crumbling down.

"Ack, you son of a b*tch! Die."

Sun WooHyun attacked like lightning. His blade and physical combat skills were no match for him. He decided to just hold him down and pound him on the ground.

"Oh, you punk, even women don't cling this much onto me."

Thud-

In an instant, the sky and the earth switched places and he fell to the ground like a frog. Smoky dust filled his nose and blood poured out of it like a geyser. He blinked like a cow that had fallen over on a frozen lake. He had meant to hit Kanma over the head and twist his neck, but he could not move his thoughts into action.

Only after some time passed, did his brain allow him to accept the situation. Kanma suddenly disappeared from view and with a sudden punch to his nose, Sun WooHyun fell backward. He didn't know how it happened, but that was the result.

He hadn't thought a lot of the South Korean kid's martial arts skills. He had gained the title of Tubilis, the battle instructor, but this guy was on a different level. This guy was the true Tubilis.

"It's an efficient, concise, and merciless action."

The captain, who had been watching, accessed.

"Wakil, if a laughable punk tries to pick a fight with you, then they must be taught a lesson."

Ombuti respectively handed him a thick acacia club. Ombuti had reached a point where he could pinpoint the desires of his master and move according to his wishes.

"Scary punk!"

The captain was more scared of Ombuti than Black Mamba. When they said that the minister's servant is scarier than the minister himself, they must have been talking about him.

"You've done well."

Black Mamba grabbed the club with a joyful expression on his face. Ombuti had brought him a freshly cut tree and had wet it with water.

It hurts many times more when hit with a newly fallen tree.

An item soaked in water causes it to stick more, and for longer, to the skin. It meant that the impact and the pain it causes is that much greater. The pain penetrates internally. Even during the Chosun Dynasty, they had beat the worst criminals with water-soaked clubs.

"Ha, with that stick?"

Sun WooHyun smirked. Because he was so young, he knew nothing. As a reconnaissance leader and torture instructor, he was trained in enduring such situations. Sticks under fingernails, pouring spicy soup inside nostrils, shining bright lights into eyes so they couldn't sleep, branding them with hot coals, he was aware of every inhumane tactic possible. He could handle getting beaten with a club in his sleep.

"I'll drain all the red water from you."

Black Mamba smiled creepily.

The captain flinched. Just looking at a club in Black Mamba's hand gave him the creeps.

"Just chop off his head why don't you."

The captain truly felt bad for the small Asian who was acting calm.

"Are you going to play dirty and torture me?"

Sun WooHyun glared at him with venom in his chinky eyes.

"Why are you asking something you already know?"

Slap-

'Oof!'

Sun WooHyun jumped in surprise and was barely able to hold back the scream that was about to escape him. With one hit, his whole body was covered in cold sweat.

'Why is my mentality so weak.'

Slap- slap-

'Ack!'

Sun WooHyun's eyes grew so wide it looked like they would pop out of his head. A thick trickle of blood flowed down his forehead and temple. He barely held in his scream. He tried to dissipate the pain through mental resistance but it did not help much.

A human's body remembers a continuous stimulation to a specific area. If there is an overstimulation to one part, it will decrease its sense in the area. Of course, different parts of the body have different thresholds.

The main skill in torturing is to create continuous stimulation without killing the person. If you stimulate as much as you can to one part then apply a similar stimulation again, the sensation exponentially grows. The pain obviously multiplies. It's the simplest yet most terrifying torture technique.

He hit him quickly and rhythmically like sewing with a needle.

He made sure to overlap a third of the areas he had hit previously, then he hit again in the same spot. The person being hit knows that he will be hit again and has to wait for the pain to come again. With that much accumulation of anxiety and fear, it becomes difficult to maintain sanity.

Every time he hit him, he released a little bit of his resonance into it. The resonance caused the cells to tense up, then the club stuck right to it. In Black Mamba style, very intensely.

"Ack, you son of a bitch!"

On the eighth time, he screamed. Sun WooHyun's will to fight unraveled like a bale of hay in water. Even as he clenched his teeth, when the beating happened, his mouth opened to shout in pain. No, he had been preparing to scream and had spit it out on the moment of contact.

After hitting him 10 times, Black Mamba adjusted the intervals.

The 10 hits were the same concept as aiming at a target from the shooting line. He had to calculate the extent of time the opponent felt pain and had to anticipate how fast he should react to the sensitivity to the pain.

Sun WooHyun was a person immensely trained to withstand such torture.

The rebounding force of the club was no joke. Black Mamba decided to increase his power. Weak-medium-weak-strong, at five-second intervals. Even Mike, who had experienced the lowest power level at six-second intervals had shit blood. For Sun WooHyun, it was four times as strong as that of Mike.

"Should we start now?"

"You son of a bitch, what are you planning to do?"

Sun WooHyun, whose face was as red as a pig's liver, let out a loud scream.

"You are definitely a communist who needs to learn a lesson."

The acacia club fell on him with the rhythm of weak-medium-weak-strong.

Slap-Slap-Slap-Thud.... That was the order. Four beatings, every five seconds.

"Ack, ugh!"

It was not the physical pain that was so bad but the psychological one. Even the torture training he had endured previously didn't help him cope with this. All manner of screams echoed through the desert night sky.

Bronin, who went into the first barrack, screamed.

The lantern fell out of his hand.

"Ack, what is this?"

Slap-

Belman, who was following behind him, hit Bronin on the back of the head.

"Idiot, what are you doing. Hurry up and find the commander and Sergeant Mike."

"What what is this?"

"What do you think it is, it's Black Mamba's masterpiece."

Sergeant Bronin's hands shook.

Inside the barrack, there were 20 corpses lying on the ground and there were pools of blood on the floor. Having never seen such a thing before, his mind seemed to be unable to take it all in.

Belman looked around the barrack and grabbed Bronin by the back of the neck.

"Pathetic fool, hurry up and move before I shoot you dead."

At Belman's stern reprimand, Bronin stumbled hesitantly into the second barrack.

Emil came running in and yelled, "there is a personal barrack in the back."

"Damned punk, you should have told us earlier. Jotto, I'm afraid I'll see this in my dreams."

Belman muttered as he headed over to look for the personal barrack.

"Oh dear, commander!"

Belman ran quickly into the barracks.

Pieff had fainted leaning on the bed. Sergeant Mike was lying on the bed. A large NR2 bayonet was lodged in the left side of his chest.

Belman called for Bronin as he put his ear to Mike's chest to examine his breathing.

"Bronin, where are you?"

Bronin showed up with a soulless expression on his face.

"Commander, this is hell. The second barrack..."

"Shut up, Sergeant Mike is in critical condition. His lungs are damaged. The commander has passed out from performing CPR on Mike."

"Is it an air chest injury or a blood chest injury?"

"Nigimi ddugral, it's a blood chest injury. The blade had penetrated the chest and as it was twisted, it damaged the lungs. The loss of blood was decreasing his blood pressure."

"We do have a manual ventilator."

"That's a relief. You can apply pressure. Emil, bring the bandages. First, we'll have to hold the bayonet in place."

Bronin, who had finished the emergency treatment, wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Are you able to blow air into him?"

"He was such a healthy man to begin with that I was able to spare him some time."

Belman, who had been measuring his breathing, stabbed two needles deep into him.

"Luckily, it avoided his heart. I'll have to prep him then go into surgery."

"What about the commander?"

"Black Mamba must have treated his wounds for that man. It's no rush. He's just exhausted."

Pieff, who had been attacked by Sun WooHyun, was a complete mess.

Although compared to Mike, who had been critically injured, his situation was not as bad. Belman removed the darts stuck in his thigh and side and started the treatment.

Oww... Ahh...

In the wee hours of early morning, a sound like that of a weeping ghost echoed.

"What's that sound?"

Bronin, who was using the guns and tarp to make a temporary camp, shuddered as his hair stood on end.