Mercenary Black Mamba

Fweet— fweet— fweet—- In the guerrilla territories, the sharp sound of a whistle echoed. The charging guerrilla forces quickly retreated. Black Mamba had single-handedly stopped Musta's army.

They did not give up on continuing the attack. As they were attacked with full force, they decided to change their tactics. The defensive squad would rain bullets so that their troops could use it as cover then pop out randomly to attack for a second. Then they would go back into hiding.

Against a regular sniper, this tactic may have worked, but right now, it was not working in their favor. Their opposition was Black Mamba. In 0.3 seconds, he already had his target marked.

Bang— The heads of two guerrilla troops exploded before they even took two steps. Even the shooting squad was unable to stop Black Mamba. The guerrillas who had been showering bullets with a machine gun soon collapsed. The guerrilla hiding with his gun behind a boulder fell before he could even pull the trigger.

Black Mamba's godlike shooting instantaneously silenced the enemy. If the tiniest of body parts came out in the open, they were immediately attacked.

Black Mamba's characteristic strategy was to obliterate the opposition in the shortest time possible. A minute had not even passed before he toppled 20 soldiers. Musta's army, which had been steadily making headway toward them, was losing ground fast. They were so busy trying to find cover that attacking had long flown out of their minds. Musta army's advantage was zapped in a heartbeat.

"We're alive!"

The captain sighed in relief. If Black Mamba had come to their rescue only a few moments later, they would all have been goners.

"He is one frightening marksman."

They were now no longer surprised and instead went on to praise him. With the help of one man, the entire war's direction had shifted. Black Mamba obliterated the opposing forces in the battle of the early evening also. "Azrael" (angel of death) was a fitting title for him.

"Barf, why does Black always go for the head?"

Jang Shin threw up as he came up from behind. The gray matter that had exploded out of the enemy's heads made his stomach churn.

"Hey, they stick out their heads all the time. If you don't want to look at it, take off the night vision goggles. Take them off," the sophisticated shuttle man Burimer said as he hit Jang Shin on the back of the head.

"Shit, you think I'm Black Mamba? How can I see without the night vision goggles?"

"Shut up and hurry. When Black Mamba silences them, you have to hit them with lightning."

Jang Shin didn't even have time to spit out his vomit because of Burimer's nagging.

"Why are there so many of them?"

The math was not working outright. They said that there were about 150 guerrilla troops left. In the early evening, they had killed 43, and afterward, they had cleared 22. That meant that there should only be 80 of them left for the latter half of the battle. Taking into account that they sacrificed 23 to Allah, killing their comrades to succeed in their attacks, they should have less than 30 troops left. But there seemed to be 60-70 of them showing up on their radar.

"Captain, how many of them are there?

"Aside from the ones we got rid of, there's over a hundred."

"A hundred?"

Black Mamba grabbed the back of his head.

"Unbelievable, do these punks only know how to count to 150?"

Unlike the captive's confessed numbers, they had close to 200 troops.

"Black, there's no time. If they rush in here, we are done for," The captain said anxiously.

His worry was obvious. Team Ratel was planning their attack for the end. When the FROLINAT's reinforcement troops were introduced, they were going to run over them with boulders so that they couldn't retreat.

As expected, the guerrilla forces' movements changed. They stopped their charging and dispersed into hiding like ants. When the sound of guns decreased, the darkness seemed to grow deeper.

"Oh no, these punks are planning a delayed operation."

Their intention was easy to decipher.

Jang Shin had lost his target and was taken aback. The special tactic was no longer viable. Instead, Burimer and Jang Shin were now in danger from the guerrillas' RPG. Surprised by the change in tactic, Jang Shin grabbed his mine thrower and hid behind a rock.

The fighting lulled. Team Ratel were now the desperate ones. They had no way of knowing when the FROLINAT forces would start their attack. Black Mamba became lost in thought. His identity had already been vastly revealed. His comrades were not ones to reveal a secret operation, but something was bothering him. Besides, even if they blabbed about it in a pub, no one would have believed them.

If someone had mentioned a human who can see from 100 meters away and talk about killing an enemy with a rock from that range, they would have been seen as a crazy person. People would have laughed at the idiot who thought that there was a person who could clear an enemy every second when they were 500 meters away.

Black Mamba looked down. His entire body was drenched in blood. From his wet uniform, blood dripped to the ground.

"Teacher, forgive your disciple who walks the path of blood. I could not abandon my comrades."

Having already decided to abandon his body, Black Mamba resolved to continue on this bloody trail.

"Captain, I'm going in."

"What are you talking about?"

"A prolonged war is dangerous. I'll go in myself and clear them out."

"You're going to jump into the midst of them? That's crazy."

The captain rejected the offer flatly.

"Don't talk nonsense. Even if you were a master of hand-to-hand combat, you are a human, not a robot. The number of survivors on their side is two digits. What do you think you can do in there all by yourself?"

"Captain, this is enemy territory. Before they all come charging at us like dogs, we have to mow them over and move. I am Black Mamba."

"Are you insane?"

The captain didn't know what to do. The enemy had hidden like turtles. There was no set plan to fight it. Jang Shin's counter-thrower would not be of much use now. Their weakness in having a small special task team was instantly revealed.

Black Mamba's stamina was another issue. He had already battled furiously with the enemy before he got here. As a human, there was a limit to his endurance.

"Burimer, what do you think of Black Mamba's crazy talk?"

"If we want to change the tide of battle, we have no choice."

"Hmm! Are you saying we should do the insane thing he suggests?"

"It's Black Mamba. He has the authority to command his tactics. If you remain stubborn it will just hurt your pride so just give him permission."

The captain chewed his left thumb as if it was jerky. It was a habit of his when he was in times of severe stress. Burimer was right. They were in a desperate situation, and Black Mamba was not the type to listen to him even if he tried to stop him.

Captain Paul cursed himself for being the one to lead this operation. He wanted to shoot all of those who had forced him into going ahead with such a tactic.

"Damn, don't die. Black Mamba."

"I am Black Mamba."

Black Mamba hid his Dragunov between two boulders and pulled out his Glock. The captain's eyes grew huge as he watched through his night-vision goggles. Like magic, Black Mamba, who had been in front of him a second ago, disappeared.

"Whew, I can't get used to it. That guy's not a sniper but a Senior."

Senior was the original legendary Islam assassin from the Crusades. He was called an old man.

After 3 minutes passed, Black Mamba's presence was decipherable through the night-vision goggles. With the Glock in one hand and the kukri in the other, he popped out of nowhere in the middle of the enemy troops. He wasn't sure how he was able to set off these fireworks with his gun in this sort of war.

The captain released his grip on his Dragunov and watched Black Mamba's movements through his night-vision goggles. This was an opportunity to see for himself Black Mamba's phenomenal hand-to-hand combat skills.

Black Mamba disappeared behind a boulder. Suddenly a green human silhouette flew out. Again, another green shadow flew out then disappeared into the dark. Black Mamba came back into view hovering in the air. From his hands, sparks flew as blue shadows collided then fell. Blood fell from the sky. From the looks of it, the opposition's main artery had been cut.

"Don Dieu, C'est ve! (My goodness, no way!)"

The captain's hands trembled holding the night-vision goggles. Black Mamba appeared to kill an enemy, then instantly disappeared from view, then appeared again to make another enemy soldier fall. He was merciless and precise. Even though a master of Krav Maga himself, he could not follow Black Mamba's movements nor understand it.

It was more surprising to see the kukri in his left hand and the Glock in his right moving as if they were completely different entities. While the left hand swung the kukri at the neck of his enemy, the right hand was double-tap shooting at the troops behind him.

Ambidextrous people can do different things with their hands simultaneously. However, they cannot swing a sword in one hand and shoot a gun with the other, but Black Mamba was using one hand to handle a gun easily.

Because of Hollywood movies, people thought that it was possible to shoot a gun with one hand. A short pistol spits out shells. Shot consecutively, the aim will decrease. It is difficult to even hit someone 10 meters away when shooting consecutively.

The FM shooting position is called the "Weaver Stance." The Weaver Stance was created by American Jack Weaver. He researched a gun's property relative to the human body to come up with a position that would yield the most precise results.

Staying in a shooting position is not hard. Spread your legs slightly wider than shoulder-width and aim 45 degrees toward the target. The right shoulder is shifted to the back. The right arm is naturally out straight in front, parallel to your aim. With your left hand, you support your right hand. This position decreases the rebound effect by the most. To increase the precision of the shots, lower body stability and a decrease in rebound are pivotal.

Western movies and Hong Kong noir movies show actors shooting with one hand to hit two or three of their targets, but this strictly only happens in movies.

Black Mamba had trained his body in a way that gave him magnified vision, and along with Parathropus's immense strength and spatial awareness, he was an unstoppable war machine. Only with Black Mamba's physique could the one-handed, double-tap, Hong Kong-noir style of shooting be achieved.

But the captain didn't know the secrets of Black Mamba's physique, so, of course, he couldn't understand it.

"Mouris, Emil 9 o'clock position for 3 seconds."

Morris and Emil heeded Black Mamba's command and pointed their machine guns to the 9 o'clock position to shower the opposition with a hail of bullets. The instant the machine guns stopped firing, Black Mamba attacked the enemies.

Swish— swish—

He jumped into their hiding nooks and shook them as he swung his kukri. Black Mamba was able to cut a fly in half in midair as it was flying. Blood erupted like a geyser.

"Ack!"

The guerrilla's chest had been split, and he uttered a muted scream, but the one with his head chopped off didn't even get a chance to gasp in surprise. The two guerrillas had been lying in wait but were sent to see Allah without even realizing what was happening.

Kakakaka—

Bullets rained from the shooting squad. Black Mamba's body popped out from the cover like the shards of a bomb. There wasn't even enough time to change the magazine on the Glock. He threw the Glock into the air then pulled the pin out of the grenade and tossed it.

Sweep— sweep— sweep—

Upon removing the pin, the grenade exploded into a million pieces. The shards stabbed through the necks of the three guerrillas holding guns.

"Swoop."

"Ack!"

With their larynxes shattered, the guerrillas gasped their last breaths and collapsed. Then the Glock that had been tossed into the air landed back into Black Mamba's hand.

Tak— snap— Black Mamba engaged the falling Glock.

He had run into their hiding spots and killed two, then killed another with his grenade, then grabbed his falling gun in two breaths.

Black Mamba wiped his face with the back of his hand. Slimy blood got on his hand. It was the blood of the sacrificial soldier whose chest had been split open. His teacher's words passed through his memory. A teacher will walk barefoot to make sure he does not step on even a crawling bug.

"I've already decided to sacrifice this body, so I will bear the burden of my crimes."

Black Mamba clenched his teeth.

"Swoop."

He relaxed his breathing and attempted to trigger his transportation ability. It was not easy. The desire to kill was boiling inside him, and he could not quell it. The potent smell of blood was seducing him further.

Darkness is Black Mamba's friend. It was reminiscent of him eating bugs in the dark caves. He gave up his natural transportation ability and perked up his senses to find his targets. Beyond 20 meters, he sensed the presence of three shooters.

Swoop— Black Mamba threw a stone, and it flew at them like a bomb.

Crash— The rock hit the boulder with a loud sound and crumbled.

Black Mamba's body stretched. Bang bang bang— Black Mamba jumped over the boulder and consecutively double-tapped to shoot his opponents. The guerrillas who were hit all fell to their deaths.

Crack—

From behind him, a guerrilla troop charged toward him with a sword. Black Mamba did a back kick and landed it squarely into his chest. His ribs cracked and collapsed, and he went numb.

Remembering the events at Mt. Bang Tae, he stabbed the enemy in his side.