Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 471

Chapter 471: Chapter 44 Episode 4 I Hate Doing the Dishes

“Huh. That’s an absurd creature.”

Mu Ssang, looking at the crystal bottle, muttered. The Rousseloufe, who was wreaking havoc moments ago, became a piece of black pancake inside the bottle. It may look like that, seemingly dead, but within a week it regains its original form. An assuming person may open the bottle and release the Devil.

Rousseloufe meant, in the tribal language in Benin, where voodoo originated, “Incarnated Angel.” Its creepy appearance and vicious eyes seemed more like a demon’s than an angel’s. It didn’t really have any angelic features.

Rousseloufe could turn its body into a fog. Thus, it could enter a quarantined or closed-off area easily. It was hard to notice its infiltration and it was immune to physical damage so it was hard to deter it. All you could do was disintegrate its molecular integrity with a vajra or cellular structure with Gongjinpa.

If it entered a nuclear power plant and blocked the cooling liquid for the reactor that contains the fuel rod, the entire city was blown away. A terrorist attack involving an airplane was nothing compared to that.

“It is quite serious.”

Mu Ssang sighed deeply. Samdi did too. Their fight with the bizarre creature ended within 10 seconds. But the room was already a mess. Holes opened in the walls and pair glass was all cracked over. Only the resin in between was holding the glass. The devilish creature was restrained without much effort but that was only because it was Mu Ssang who did it.

“It seemed dangerous but now it’s just a black dough. Is it dead?”

Samdi shook the crystal bottle. The charred dough floated in the liquid-like burnt wood.

“It’s not dead. I am not sure if it’s pretending to be dead or barely alive.”

“Get rid of it. It is creepy.”

Samdi felt an unexplained hostility.

“I have no way to kill it now.”

“What about high-voltage electricity or burning it with white phosphorous in an airtight container?”

Samdi insistently called for the elimination of the creepy creature. It was a great risk if it ever got out. Only Mu Ssang could handle it. So it was a great risk factor if it regained its former form and escaped.

“White phosphorous? We should do the opposite. Lower temperature decreases the movement of molecules. We should put the bottle in dry ice.”

Mu Ssang flicked his fingers. It proved to be a great idea. Inside a box filled with dry ice, the dough of Rousseloufe shrunk further. Mu Ssang probably could kill it if he needed to, but he had a hunch that it may be useful in the future. So he spared its life.

“I hate doing the dishes.”

It was a ten-year-old complaint. Living on your own meant you had to cook for yourself. Cleaning after that was even more bothersome. Five years at his uncle’s. Six years living on his own. Five months at the nightclub. The monastery. Mu Ssang had washed countless dishes. Whether it was cooking, an incident, or an operation, cleaning up was always the most cumbersome part of the job.

France’s Operation Fist of Justice was concluded but the fist of the Eastern Swordsman wasn’t. Two Rousseloufes burst through a “pregnant” woman’s belly and disappeared. Considering the one in the bottle, the normal route of maturation is natural birth. The other two, either by their own power or Kamuge’s, escaped in an immature state. He didn’t mention it to Bonipas but it was bothering him. Now he had “dishes” to do.

Although not as dangerous as Rousseloufe, Grendels and Haunters developed by Americans were also a risk. The MK project, part of America’s Socrates Project, was bothering him because of Japan.

Chui Do Shik and his followers taught him the true nature of the Japanese. Individually, they were shy but as a group, they became insane. They had a bad habit of justifying any means for their goal.

The attack on Pearl Harbor was one of the examples. Japan’s Joint Staff Office only declared war on America after the attack on Pearl Harbor was successful. Such treachery is characteristic of Japan. On the other hand, the intelligence analysts of the United States dismissed the signs of a surprise attack. It was mirror-imaging. The analysts thought if they were Japanese, they wouldn’t attack the United States to turn such a powerful country against themselves.

Mu Ssang connected the waterborne Grendel and Japan for a certain reason. Nothing guaranteed that Japan’s treachery and America’s mirror-imaging would combine to prove disastrous. Japan had the most amount of cash in the whole world. Its people were not as rich as the country, but its companies and government had a vast amount of money. The United States, spearheading capitalism, equaled money with character. The CIA was, for example, known for conducting illegal businesses to fund its operations.

In terms of financial policy, Japan was led by the hawkish, rather than the dovish. Prime Minister Konoe resigned after opposing the war with the United States in a cabinet meeting, pushed away by General Hideki Tojo. Then he took potassium cyanide and committed suicide after Japan’s defeat.

To this day, Konoe is derided as a coward and Hideki Tojo is praised as a war hero. That is Japan.

[Korea, historically, was not interested in expanding its territories.] A Japanese historian and novelist, Ryotaro Shiba, said that. No Korean would feel good reading such a statement. If they were Korean, they must be not versed in history or interested in Korea’s future.

Ever since Silla unified the whole peninsula, Manchuria disappeared from Korean history. Goryeo, who unified the peninsula again later, was not interested in northern territories. Joseon also did not step further than the Tumen and Yalu rivers. During Sejong’s rule, Lee Jong-mu punished the pirates in Tsushima, but did not occupy the island and returned to the peninsula.

Such a noble people in terms of the policy of non-invasion. Yet they fought each other to death in the small Korean peninsula. Koreans were difficult people to understand.

The Japanese people made several glaring contrasts to Koreans. Korea was centered around scholars versed in ancient Chinese texts but Japan was ruled by warriors, the samurai. In Korea, people were punished in a court of law but in Japan, the samurai beheaded them right away. A samurai would demand a common girl to remove her skirt and if she refused, he would behead her in broad daylight. The ruled must have learned to fear the ruling class.

After having been ruled by the samurai culture for a long time, the Japanese people developed two personality traits that were almost genetic. First, they obeyed their rulers without question. Second, they thought it was natural for a weak being to be treated with cruelty. Such traits were present even today, as ijime and burakumin discrimination.

Imperial Japan also referred to Korean villages as buraku. Thus, they considered Koreans as the same class of people as butchers in Japan. They called for “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity” yet considered themselves superior to other Asians. The Japanese were first-class citizens. Koreans and the Chinese were second class. Some Japanese still referred to villages as buraku and considered him as a second-class human. It was a sad thing.

The samurai culture turned the Japanese people into a band of rats. They acted as a collective, never suspecting who is leading them. A corrupt politician would thrive there. They bowed to the strong and trampled on the weak. This mindset manifested itself into ruthless invasions into Russia, China, Korea, Taiwan, and the many countries of Southeast Asia.

When it came to territorial disputes, only two solutions were viable. A war or negotiation. If war was to be avoided, negotiation was due. And historically, negotiations didn’t prove successful. Therefore, only when Korea’s national power surpassed Japan’s, the Liancourt Rocks dispute could come to an end.

The scenario about which Mu Ssang was worried was that in which Japan released Grendels on Korean shores. An octopus tentacle thicker and longer than a utility pole would attack fishing boats. A swarm of sea snakes would attack a cruise ship. Japan would mystify it as Amaterasu’s fury finally reaching Korea.

Furthermore, Japan would try to invade Jeju Island. It’s the same thing as the Liancourt Rocks. They were both historically and de facto Korean territories. Japan still thought of the entire Korean peninsula as some kind of colony of Japan. Grendels would help establish fear which they could manipulate.

“Grendels and Japan. They may do as they wish. I will show them hell.”

Mu Ssang kept silent. Was the Korean government as prepared as he was, being on their guard against Japan? It was a futile wish. He wouldn’t have become a mercenary in France if the Korean government and politicians had such knowledge and wisdom.

His country abandoned him but he couldn’t abandon his. It was just corrupt politicians who acquired power through illegal means. The land itself didn’t abandon him. Even if you strangled the cock, a new day still dawned. Mu Ssang loved his country but he couldn’t like it. Such a thought led him to a night of insomnia.

Mu Ssang’s return to France was postponed for one week. The intelligence agency of each country and media were interested in who Call Name was. The DGSE was trying their best to mitigate it but many spies and journalists from each country gathered to Paris.

Call Name was in the spotlight because of the failed assassination attempt that targeted President de Gaulle in 1963. Jackal, the assassin, declared the intent to assassinate publicly and infiltrated the layers of bodyguards with sheer capacities. Before he could get to the president, the gendarme Jean-Marie Bastien stopped him. He was the Call Name of the time. Due to Bastien, the hidden sword of France, Call Name was revealed to the world.

The advent of a new Call Name was bound to interest the media. Spies and journalists, all excited, ran across Paris and even N’Djamena. Even a Korean newspaper released an article that described him as a French special agent with a murder permit who brutally butchered African indigenous people. It was a copy-paste from an American weekly magazine that always portrayed him in a bad light.

Even if Bonipas hadn’t asked him, it was hard for him to move publicly now. Mu Ssang decided to stay in Djibouti for one more day then move to the Samaria farm. He was not going to set foot in Paris or N’Djamena. He sent the hide of Sarcosuchus to Emil.

“It’s driving me crazy. I have no time to fool around with a woman.”

Mu Ssang was impatient.

“Hey, Black. Stop frowning like that. Bonipas even gave you a holiday stipend. What is the matter? Rest. The oil under the ground does not flee.”

“Look at your dark circles. Once you start resting, you should completely relax. Forget all and rest.”

Bellman pitched in.

“It’s not because of the oil. I want to go back to my hometown quickly. I need to find my mother. I will dispatch an informant once I’m back in Korea.”

“Yeah, you should. Your mother is like our mother. There are a lot of skilled private detectives in America. We should hire an expert.”

Bellman said, with a worried face.

“You had left the CIA long ago. How are you going to help him? What are they going to do in Korea? They always mess up.”

Paul pointed out.

“I still have that much of a leverage.”

“Black wouldn’t like that kind of flaunting. A salesman should stick to selling pistols.”

“What? I can even involve the Korean police.”

Paul and Bellman argued playfully.

“Stop it. I will call you when I need you.”

Mu Ssang waved it away. If Africa is a war zone, Korea was hell. Lee Kang Chul’s miserable appearance and his uncle’s face overlapped. He was practically a dead man now. To kill his father’s brother went against ethics.

Les Misérables. They were all victims. The good and the evil were simply karma painted over a soul. A dead person’s soul dissipated and went back to the ground. A person died and was buried in a mountain or meadow. The memory of them was buried in the hearts of their loved ones. Revenge was futile.

Then, even if someone sinned, were we to forgive them if they were not a completely evil person? No. He didn’t want that kind of paradise. The law of Novatopia dictated “One should compensate for the loss one caused.” His head felt clear but his heart didn’t. Agony and conflict weren’t to be avoided as long as one was alive.

The Bachilkile region, situated northeast of the Ennedi Plateau, northeastern Chad. A giant male gorilla with silvery fur on its back and a small female gorilla appeared through the sandstorm. The female, leading the way, sniffed something in the air. It was the smell of damp water mixed in the dry air. The female looked back and grunted.

“Is there water?”

A tired man’s voice emanated from within the male. The gorilla stomped on its chest and roared.

“Because of that wretched bastard, Rousseloufe, a most precious treasure, was ruined. It’s not like I could talk to it either…”