Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 157: Chapter 19, Episode 3: Follow Your Heart

A local middle-aged man ran into the office with a bloodied man on his back. Following his entrance was a built young man and another middle-aged white man.

Edel worried that her office door would break, as it had been difficult to gain. It had only been a month since they got rid of their way station[1].

“Hal hunna-ka tabi-boon amu mumarl-lidun?”[2]

The middle-aged man shouted roughly in Arabic.

“Uwah!”

The children waiting for their turn in the lobby broke into tears at once. Edel’s surprise turned into anger.

“What is this rudeness?”

“Woman, shut up. It’s an emergency patient. Treat him now!” the middle-aged man shouted in reply.

Most of the time, Ombuti was a man of few words, but he would also act like a tiger who was missing its cub when it came to matters regarding Black Mamba.

Edel stared at the Captain, unable to understand Ombuti. He, at least, looked like someone she could talk to.

“Hm, Sophie Marceau!”

Emil’s mouth opened wide. He felt as though his eyes were being cleansed.

A woman in her mid-20s was wearing a loose under armor shirt labelled M-S-F. Emil had seen nothing of females but flies and mosquitoes in the desert for two months.

There was a young, beautiful, and bountiful woman.

She was comparable to Sophie Marceau, who was long praised like the angel. Emil’s eyes flipped. His concerns regarding his partner were sweeping away like the tide. The place was filled with clear eyes like a lake and cherry-colored lips.

Emil turned and spat on his hand to rearrange his hair. The Captain smiled wryly.

“Mademoiselle, I’m Legion Etranger’s mercenary, Emil. Please allow me the honor of kissing your beautiful hand. I’d like to keep your beauty in my heart for the rest of my life.”

Emil lowered his head with his left foot behind his right and a crooked right arm, in the manners of a 19th-century palace tradition.

“Argh!”

Edel pressed her forehead and tilted. Emil’s looks weren’t describable. A sour smell came in waves from his sweat-filled uniform. Arranging hair that was filled with oil and dust was impossible in the first place. A beggar in the backstreets of Paris would’ve been 10 times cleaner. She shivered at the sight of the beggar prostrating his gross romance. The rough Arabian was a hundred times better.

“Look here, do you think I leave the hospital door open, chewed by flies and mosquitoes, for mad people like you? Do you think I sleep on the floor on a single Styrofoam bed, leaving all those comfortable beds, to hear such romantic words? Get out of here!”

Edel turned on her heels after screaming but soon turned back.

“What are you doing? Do you want to kill the patient? You, the big old man, move him to the bed.”

Emil, who was taken aback by Edel’s fierceness, ran to bring the bed over. The Captain lowered Black Mamba onto the bed in a crouch.

“Who just shouted?”

The opposite office door was slammed open. A 50-years-old man ran out of the office, breathing shallowly.

The Captain’s hand flashed to his Glock’s handle before letting it go secretly. By the stethoscope around his neck, that man was a doctor. The middle-aged man wasn’t wearing a gown, like that woman. His clothes were a mess.

The toe cap of his black combat boot had a hole, leaving the man’s big toe sticking out. His clothes were similarly worn. He was wearing a faded Hawaiian shirt with cargo pants. The middle-aged man suddenly grabbed the front of the Captain’s shirt.

Are all the MSF doctors suffering from bipolar disorders?

The Captain’s fantasy of an ideal MSF was shattered.

“You, what are you going to do about this?”

“About...about what?” the Captain stuttered at the unexpected attack.

“Goddamn it!”

The Hawaiian-shirt man shoved the Captain away before frowning.

“Professor Giz, are you perhaps saying...?”

Tears pooled in Edel’s eyes.

“Yes, it’s that. That damned thing is cut.”

“Oh my God! What do we do?”

Edel’s face lost its color. She rushed into the office. The Hawaiian-shirt man took after her shortly.

“What did we do?”

“Cut? What, the rubber on his underwear?”

The three men blankly rolled their shoulders. The Captain’s mood turned worse. They had come to request help, but it seemed as though they had made some huge mistake. A moment later, the two walked out of the office with heavy expressions.

“What is it?”

“Nothing for you to know. Let’s take a look at the patient.”

The cold wind flowed around. The Captain couldn’t even ask to make a call. Both looked like mothers-in-law who’d eaten a pebble. He felt as though he’d be beaten up by their stethoscopes if he did.

“Oh, he’s rather handsome.”

Edel half-screamed, half-commented on Black Mamba’s face after wiping the dirt off with alcohol. Her features, which looked like an angered mother-in-law, soon bloomed like a vibrant flower. The Captain looked at the woman with disbelief.

Rudrey Edel was a young woman with a headstrong personality. She transferred to Chad after graduating from London’s medical university, before she obtained her degree. Lasers seemed to blaze out from her eyes.

When the bloodied face was cleaned, a face, comparable to a woman’s by its intricacy, was revealed. His thin yet full eyebrows, high nose bridge, and clear lip lines were revealed. Even the scar, which was engraved like a cross on his left cheek, looked cool.

Edel took off his gandourah and sirwal with practiced ease. When the blood-soaked bandage was peeled off, his sculptured, naked body was revealed. A muscled body—with no hint of sagging skin and sculpted muscles—that looked like coiled wires exuded its presence under the white light. The lasers turned into hearts.

The Hawaiian-shirt man began to complain.

“Doctor Edel, a patient is an object of treatment, not an object of admiration.”

“My words exactly!”

The two mercenaries and guide agreed with the man’s words.

“Oh, what are you saying? Even you’d be impressed, professor Giz. David would cry at this body.”

“Hey, I’m a straight man. I don’t have any interest in other men.”

Professor Giz walked past while glancing at Black Mamba’s face, but soon whirled around and ran, attaching himself to the bedpost.

“Im...impossible, incomparable!”

Professor Giz’s eyes had turned large. The event that took place on that day, five years ago, in Bangtaesan, played on his mind.

It was the boy who carried his heavy figure through the heavy snow, at frightening speed through the mountain after he fell off the cliff. The same boy who had suffered from a Harriet memory loss and forgotten his past. The boy who had recovered his memories with fierce determination.

“Professor, do you know him?”

“He’s my friend. Doctor Edel, send him to the surgery room right now. Bonnie, Bonnie!”

A girl slightly over ten years old ran over.

“Bring Doctor Walter here.”

“Yes, doctor.”

The girl shot out like a spinning top.

“And what kind of scene is this?”

The Captain and Emil blankly stared at the chaos before them.

“Oh, Allah has protected my Wakil. Allah, you are the one and only.”

Ombuti raised both of his hands in happiness. Seeing a chance, the Captain grabbed professor Giz’s arm as he passed by, heading towards the surgery room.

“Doctor, I need to make a call.”

“You’re incomparable’s friend?”

“We’re brothers who’ve shared our blood.”

“Fine. There’s a phone in that office, so use it, break it, whatever you want. I’m in a hurry, so.”

The doctor wrestled the Captain’s arm away and disappeared into the surgery room.

“Emil, have we really returned to civilization?”

“Well, it seemed as though a ‘violent’ virus had spread throughout the world while we were in the Sahel.”

“It’s fine as long as the phone isn’t infected.”

The Captain ran to the office.

“Professor, why did you call for me? You know, all you need to administer is pentobarbital to prevent tetanus.”

Doctor Walter began to complain. He had rushed over, leaving his patient behind at Bonnie’s alert of a critical patient. The patient was a long-term patient who was non-critical.

“That’s the thing. He looked as though he’d die any second...”

Professor Giz smacked his forehead with his stethoscope. The patient had a fever of over 40 degrees and had been bleeding through his reopened wound. However, his temperature had dropped, and he had stopped bleeding. Even his blue-colored skin had regained its color.

“A blind shot is more fatal than a penetrating wound. It’s due to the tumbling phenomenon. However, this isn’t it. Didn’t the wounded area look like it had been cut with a sharp knife? If it hadn’t been for the carbon scars, I wouldn’t have been able to diagnose an injury at all. This is my first time seeing this.”

“And your theory?”

“The cell-analysis, histogram, and Pap test show no problem. There’s no inflammatory reaction, even after the debris reached his fatal wound. His red cell index and leucocyte readings are way different from regular people. Is he an alien?”

Professor Giz flinched. There was nothing good about Walter gaining an interest in Mu Ssang. He slapped Walter’s back and pushed him outside the door.

“Oh, hm, I’ve made you worry for nothing. I’ll buy you a drink later.”

He decided to destroy all records of Mu Ssang’s blood samples.

“It’s those idiots who caused a scene, I see. Why’re they making a big fuss over a week old injury? This is why stupid soldiers can’t be doctors,” Walter complained at Emil with a glare.

Walter, in his mid-30s, was a medical graduate from Munich university. With Edel in mind, his judgment was biased. He knew a lot about a human’s body, next to God, as a surgeon.

The Asian youth, lying down as a patient, was someone blessed with God’s body. On top of that, he was pretty, like a woman. Wrapping bandages should be done by local nurses. It was obvious why Edel was wrapping the bandages. Walter originally had ill feelings towards rough and rude soldiers. His jealousy exploded.

“Idiot humans who know nothing but shooting bullets.”

“Not all soldiers are stupid.”

Black Mamba opened his eyes. He had long woken from his sleep but had pretended because he was feeling awkward from the gentle strokes.

“Oh!”

That took Edel by surprise, as she tied off the last of Black Mamba’s bandages.

“Thanks.”

“It’s fine. You’re a patient, and I’m a doctor.”

When Black Mamba looked up at her for a moment, Edel’s face turned red.

“Hey, if you’re done, get out of here with that blood-reeking smell. Patients are waiting in line outside!” Walter shouted.

“Walter, stop. He’s my friend.”

“Doctor Giz?”

Black Mamba’s eyes widened.

“Did you regain all of your memories?” Giz smiled wide.

“My God! You are Loren Giz, Black Mamba’s friend. Where am I?”

Giz immediately understood Black Mamba’s intentions of emphasizing his name. Mu Ssang didn’t want to reveal his identity.

“It’s the MSF hospital.”

“MSF? Then why are you here, Giz?”

“I contracted with the MSF out of boredom. I’m more surprised that you’re here, friend.”

“Ha, this is why connections are scary. I’ve entered the Legion Etranger.”

“Didn’t you hate violence and blood?”

“Only humans blessed by God can live to their tastes.”

“I see. Let me make some introductions.”

Professor Giz called Edel and Walter over.

“Let me introduce them. This is Munich’s b*stard, Roman Walter, and this is Liverpool’s beauty, Rudrey Edel. They’re idiots who roll around the field, abandoning their work and easy lifestyle. Guys, this here is Legion Etranger’s warrior, Black Mamba.”

“Black Mamba,” Black Mamba introduced himself shortly.

Walter’s expression turned into a frown. An MSF doctor was the subject of admiration. It wasn’t as though there weren’t rude people, but this guy was just uncaring. That annoyed him even more.

“Oh, Black Mamba! What an awesome name. I’m Rudrey Edel, but you can call me Rudrey.”

Edel pushed her hand forward for a handshake. When Black Mamba shook her hand lightly, her breathing grew quicker. Walter’s eyes flashed ominously.

After their introductions, Giz sent the two away with the excuse of a private conversation.

“You’re a secret agent?”

“Something like that. Don’t address me as Mu Ssang.”

“Got it. I’ll call you Black Mamba. Are you the Kanma?”

“Mm, did the rumors spread all the way here?”

“As I’d thought. Who else other than Mu Ssang would flip the FROLINAT on their heads? There’s a rumor floating around saying that the Kanma would kill all the bad soldiers, allowing a peaceful life.”

“Keke, I’ve become a savior?”

“F*** savior, it’s like trying to be Muhammad when you’re being called the devil. They’re clinging to such rumors because there’s nothing to hope for. How did you get so injured?”

“I had a large scale battle yesterday noon.”

“Yesterday noon? Well, you do have a special body, after all. I should warn them to shut their mouths.”

Giz’s expression turned strange. A bullet wound couldn’t heal within 24 hours. He once again confirmed that Black Mamba was a unique person.

“How’s the degree of injury?”

“Even if it’s you, incredible Park, you’d need a week’s rest. It would be a year’s bed rest for anyone else who’s normal.”

“This much of an injury isn’t counted. Ati shouldn’t be a safe zone in the FROLINAT’s eyes, won’t there be a problem?”

“Not even the FAP touches the NGO. There are times when they steal our medical supplies, but they don’t harm anyone. Even those b*stards fear international pressure.”

“What is your position here? Africa is no match for your specialty in neuropsychiatry.”

“What’s the point of sectors in Africa? I’m yesterday’s surgeon, today’s internal medicine prescriber, and tomorrow’s birth obstetrician. I was fighting around with guinea worms in Sudan when the filariasis called me here. Maybe it was you, friend, who called me over. Africa’s a big deal. Those damned parasites are about to conquer us, humans.”

[1] Way Station: A portable tent for Médecins Sans Frontières.

[2] “Is there a doctor or nurse here?”

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