Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 426

Chapter 426: Chapter 41 Episode 19: Apadombe, Fist of Justice (modifed)

“Wa Kku! (Thank you!)

“Mahnn Tahai Lwa. (Leave your soul up to Lwa.)

He could not really understand what they were saying, but he could roughly guess their intention. The dry jujube palm that he ate three days ago had been edgy due to the fanatic’s behavior.

“The Miserables!”

There was a feeling of sadness before there was anger. And there was good reason for it too. The voodoo religion, which marked the end of the cannibalistic culture, was perpetuated by rich Europeans and Americans. Contrary to popular belief, the history of cannibalism started in the modern century.

In the mid-19th century, when colonization was in full swing, white people with deep pockets flocked to Africa. It was the beginning of the popularity of so-called safari trips. White people would hire the local hunters in large numbers and indiscriminately hunted down both herbivores and flesh0eating animals.

The rooms of those aristocrats and upper society white folks class were decorated with the spoils of their hunts, like a stuffed lion, a bison horn or the elephant tusks. Even if it was a stuffed Antidorcas marsupialis or Sitatunga head, it had to be hung on the wall to achieve the status of a gentleman. Even now, decades later, the term “games” were still used to mean hunting trips in Africa. Just go to a travel agency in Nairobi or Kinshasa and tell them you want to play, and you would be brought to the jungle or the grasslands immediately.

Merciless hunting has reduced the animal population and even changed the habitats. Meanwhile, the natives who relied on hunting to survive were affected drastically. Because of that, starving natives would attack the agricultural tribes to find food to fill their stomachs. As such, the safari hunts enjoyed by white privileged people led to hunting shortages and forced the Kini tribe and Kikuyu tribe to turn to cannibalism.

But customs do not disappear easily. The culture of cannibalism led to the formation of ritual ceremonies. To overcome the shame and regret of cannibalizing humans, they started to believe that they would inherit the spirit of ancestors and would gain the courage and abilities of the victims.

History only highlights the winners, not the victims. What is written in history is never the complete story. The evil deeds of white people on African soil were not limited to the slave trade. Colonization had a number of other negative effects on the colony, but it was buried, glorified, and rationalized.

At the end of the 19th century, in Kenya, a cannibal named Ghost and Darkness killed more than 130 humans. Lieutenant Colonel Patteson, a British special shooter, tracked down and killed the horrible man. White people celebrated and praised the heroic performance of Patteson but never gave a single thought to the rage of the victim.

Why does a lion attack humans? This was because the lion’s habitat had been destroyed by humans, and its natural food source diminished as white people built their plantation farms on a large scale. Life was the purpose. Hungry lions ate humans to survive.

However, whether human or animal, cannibalism was not an indulgence. Humans are humans when they are subjective. If all responsibility was attributed to ignorance, poverty, and colonization, they were also the limit of selfishness that tramples on human dignity. In the same context, cannibalism for the purpose of obtaining supernatural power was no different than the slave hunting committed by white people in the past.

Black Mamba hesitated for a moment when choosing between MP5 and Dragunov. MP5 had good grinding power, but it also had destructive power. There was a lack of power to penetrate the barracks, shrubs, and grass that hid the Dambala warriors.

The MP5 was stored in a backpack and Dragonov was chosen. The sense of balance in his hand was familiar, as if he was meeting with an old friend. The velcro on the pouch attached to the tactical vest had been adjusted to hold the Dragunov.

The main character was Samdi. He was prepared and his anticipation was at a high. The distance between him and his targets was less than 200 meters, and he did not even need to aim using his radar.

“Samdi, it’s show time.”

Peok! Peok! Peok! Dragunov quickly fired its bullets, moving from target to target as if striking on its own free will. The three mambos, who had been distributing human meat in bowls, collapsed one by one. Dambala, who was waiting for his turn, also collapsed to the ground like dominoes.

The destructive power of the three-step sniper rifle, which shot three bullets per second, was formidable. Theoretically, if Samdi was swift shooting in an open area with multiple targets, he could kill 120 people in a minute minute. In an hour, he could take down a 7,2000-strong brigade. Of course, humans were not fixed targets. The situation would also change if there was a counter-attack, but even elite soldiers would have trouble shaking off the nightmare of a flurry of bullets.

Tutututututu! Mag machine guns fired from under the tree. The debris was scattered thickly. Powerful 7.62mm bullets smashed into humans, structures, pots, bushes, and rocks. The combined power of the machine guns and the Dragonov brought about the complete destruction of the Dambala. In just 10 seconds, half of the troops had been shot down. They barely had time to respond to the attack.

“Ukubullara (Kill him NOW)!”

“Ugh! Tapadahai (Please help me)!”

“Audi! (Enemy)!”

Dambala finally realized what was happening and they scattered frantically like insects.

“It’s coming from our nine o’clock. Shoot back!”

“Alphage Alphage!”

Budsela and Barong shouted at the top of their lungs. Budsela could not even begin to imagine that the watchman he had arranged for would have brought the devil here.

The military meaning of the term annihilation applied to a situation in which half of the combat forces have been taken out (dead or seriously injured). This did not apply to the Dambala warriors who took Yorunba. In spite of the terrifying firepower that led to half the troops being neutralized in an instant, not a single Dambala showed his back. Surprisingly, less than 10 seconds later, the counter attacks poured out.

Black Mamba was the one who had calmly spotted the hidden Dambala while he was perching on top of a tree. Samdi on the other hand, was the one firing at the Dambala. Because of the loud noises he was making, he was now the target of the counter attack.

Puck-puck-puck-puck-puck! Samdi faltered. The rifle failed to penetrate the bulletproof plate, but no one was beaten and happy.

“How dare you! You’re a dead worm!”

Samdi, who was shot several times by a rifle, exploded. He received the mag, pulled out the bubble wrap, and ran out. This is because the expression “dead worm” is a representative cleaning insect that digs up corpses.

“Phew!”

A roar signaled the arrival of Edos. The giant crushed the nearby trees and bushes as it rushed forward. Samdi’s focus on artificial muscles and stances surpassed Black Mamba. Bullets and RPG shells flew from the training ground. Samdi, who tried a speculative move, smoothly escaped a shell.

Black Mamba, who was still overlooking the battlefield from a high altitude, could not die. The heads of the RPG defenders and assistants who attacked Samdi were bound to explode.

Samdi ran 130 meters in just five seconds. A terrifying force that had the power of a landslide hit the Dambala camp. Fuwang! The 40kg weight flying at the speed of sound and 2.4 meters was a terrifying sight to behold. The gust of wind swung around Edos, which was not very wide.

The Dambala, who were hidden behind the trees, were hit by the split tree trunks. The Dambala hidden behind the rocks were hit by shards of stone. Blood and body parts of the body were mixed with crushed leaves and rock fragments as they were picked up by a tornado caused by the bubble wrap.

“Heow, who’s going to stop him?”

At this point, RPG and mortar became shabby. Black Mamba admired the trigger for an hour at the grandeur of Manbu-mak. Samdi’s majesty surpassed Black Mamba, who was running around with Kukri and Glock in Sahel.

“Ungang! Ungang!”

Budsela shouted out loud. The only thing that could stop the crazy Petro is the Zombie Army. Behind the barracks, black humans with thick iron clubs popped out. It was a group of zombies controlled by Ogu.

“Mbala Cadambu Abu Dal Delatun Ukbulara!”

Ogu Ungang chanted a dark spell.

“Wow!”

The zombie army rushed frantically towards Samdi with a crazy momentum. It was like a rush of water when the river breaks its banks in the midst of a flood.

“Hmmm, dirty things!”

Shuang! Bbokbogi fell like a thunderbolt. The zombies held up their iron clubs, which were thicker than their forearms, with both hands to protect themselves. Shovel! Bbokbogi cut through the iron clubs without any problems, splitting them into two from top to bottom. The disgusting bloody smell spread out. Zombies were only threatening to humans, and were not a match in weight and power in the first place. Shuang! The zombie bodies were split horizontally and vertically with the blade that flew silently.

The Bbokbogi blade was an items that was finished with a diamond coating after being forged by die casting liquid metal. It was stronger and sharper than normal steel.

“Shoot!”

Even Budsela didn’t think zombies would overpower Petro. It was a measure to concentrate on the firepower while tying the feet. Tutatata! A rain of bullets flew into the middle of the building, killed anyone it hit.

“Wok!”

Samdi swung Bbokbogi fiercely. It was a technique that he had learned by copying Oselot’s eight-way windstorm. Jjajajajang! The sound of bullets hitting the shovel blade was like corn splashing in a popcorn machine. Samdi was not Black Mamba. Samdi, who was hit three or four times , jumped out of full force.

“Impossible!”

Ogu Ungang burst out shouting. Zombies were strong against bullets, but event their bodies were not durable enough to withstand multiple heavy hits. Ungang’s cries were buried in the noise of the battlefield and could not be heard. Zombies who were attacking Samdi were hit hard and shattered.

“Oh, no. (Crying)”

Ungang cried like a Dhole who had lost her baby. Puck! The back of Ungang’s head exploded. The bullet dragged the gray foreign substance out to the forehead. Tuk! The magic wand that he was holding, the one thing that had never left his side, dropped to ground and rolled into the mud.

Punch, punch! The three-teb swift swept Dambala. Owl’s gaze from a 40m high took over the battlefield. A bullet flew just by coughing. Once captured, the head bursts and the chest is pierced.

Blood splattered around Barong’s feet. He was taking cover behind the log barricades. As soon as Barong raised his head and screamed, a bullet was shot in his mouth. The bullet pierces through his head, pulling pools of blood and brain matter with it.

“No! Barong!”

Budsela screamed as he watched his friend go down. But there was no time to worry about anything else. His shoulder was injured when he was hit with a bullet. It seemed like it had pierced through his shoulder blades.

“Ugh!”

Budsela drew an indomitable fighting spirit. Just as he was about to switch his rifle to his left hand, a black shadow came out of nowhere and hit him. The expensive shovel blade, five times the price of gold of the same weight, passed through Budsela’s neck.

“Damn it, it is wrong from the start!”

His head flashed. The last ritual Budsela was snapped. With the death of Budsela, organized resistance is over. Only sporadic shots rang out in the woods outside Edos. No matter how thoroughly the Dambala tried to hide, they could not escape Samdi’s sense of smell.

Samdi jumped into the forest. The beautiful trees were cut off, and shrubs and ferns were flying in the wind. Samdi searched through the area and started picking out the Dambala like fleas in fur. Dambala, who took Yorunba and went through a cannibal, resisted the last one, and the last one was a sacrifice of

Bbokbogi.

The area where Samdi set up with Bbokbogi was revealed as if it had been pushed away by a plane. Blood poured out of the wounds, turning the ground around him red. About 160 bodies were scattered, and half of them were obliterated. A heavy silence was cast on the devastated Edos. Only the large torches that survived the war fluttered here and there.

“I’m tired of it. I’m really tired of it.”

Black Mamba shook his head. How could they have been so ignorant when they’re the same person? The Sahara Desert was romantic. They were just endlessly tired of this story.

“Wakir, some of them managed to escape.”

“Ituri will take care of it.”

They did not have to care about the Dambala that had fleed into the jungle. It was difficult to survive in the Ituri jungle without the help of a sorcerer. There was no problem of getting Ituri out of this jungle. No one would trust the words of the voodoo that the devil had descended.

“Wakir, man is so foolish.”

Samdi ripped the clothes off his body and wiped off the blood from the shovel blades. Why do people abandon life so easily? It was just a meaningless death.

“It is more of a loss of self-reliance than stupidity. Man is an absurd being who creates God and hangs on to the creation of God.”

Black Mamba smiled bitterly. It was the Holocaust that he had created. An unknown sadness rumbled all over his body. It was a feeling of sadness without a particular reason. It was just a sadness that derived from the pity of humans.

Even Dambal would have believed in God to be happy. He wanted to tell them that the purpose of life was not happiness, but life itself. Of course, it was too late to tell that to the dead bodies.

The Troy War was the result of the jealousy of Olympian goddesses. Humans were the soles of organs in which God moves. The gods simple watched as the humans fight and die under their advice.

The gods had no minimum sense of self-responsibility and they do not pity humans. For them, humans were just objects of play. It was no different to the way humans treated their animals, and humans enjoy watching chickens and dogs fight each other.

Ironically, the basis of Olympus was the human world. The gods admired the human world, and most of the time, the Goddess Namshin cheated on humans and gave birth. The Greeks may have created the Olympian myth by making a god and ridiculing the absurdity of human beings bound to it.

Religion commonly uses the afterlife as a threat card. The Voodoo was no different. Voodooism, which was a mixture of totemism and animism with Catholicism, was so empty that it felt compassion for religion. The believers buried in absurd faith seemed to be endlessly foolish.

But was that so? it was not silly; it was an addiction. Did Omok-Nun really believe that a cuckoo baby ten times bigger than him was his own?

They didn’t have to know what Omok-Nun really thought, but it was not faith but addiction.

Humans were not much different from Omok-Nun. Look at the Marlboro advertisement. A very handsome cowboy looking into the distance at the horizon of the wilderness. In his mouth was a Marlboro cigarette. In a word, it was amazing. Unknowingly, he possessed the macho force of a cowboy. This brought about the collective fascination that anyone would look cool if they had a Marlboro cigarette and copied this man’s posture.