Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 407: Chapter 40 Episode 30: Ituri, Fist of Justice

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang pitied Yang Guifei’s feet for having to step on dirt. A man’s heart will only turn to coals after witnessing a woman in shock and worry.

“That damn Jap!”

The Japanese were behind the CIA’s renewed interest in DNA manipulation humanoid research, which they’d abandoned before. Steve blamed the research department within Japan and Sasaka’s party.

As a mere senior researcher, Steve wouldn’t know the background story of the MK Ultra project or its partnership with Japan. There were only rumors of how the large number of funds to support their medical research advances and the fresh human bodies to research on were all from Japan, as the other researchers had said.

And truly, the data given to them on the poison resistance measurements of humans could only be gained from human experiments. Japan was the only country that conducted large-scale human body research in the 20th century. That was also why Steve didn’t like Japan. He joined the development team by coincidence, but he had no fondness towards the inhumane and wrong project.

“Yes, not only did the GPS signals stop, but its body signals have also stopped. It’s a complete death.”

Steve was sure of his announcement. The GPS surgically embedded into the predator’s chest was a small-sized electric generator that offered energy. The body electric generator pumped the electric pressure points, moving the electric body functions, and created electricity based on the laser static electricity all based on the monster’s heartbeat. It worked as long as the heart or brain continued to send electric wave signals towards the generator, both of which were made in Area 51’s over technology. Failure of the body’s electric generator meant its heart and brain had died at the same time.

“Did it fight with another predator?”

From the report, that was the easiest explanation. Not even Adam would be able to say anything if she reported that the Grendels fought each other due to their violent nature.

“The Octopus and Turtle are hibernating, ma’am. The bastard died on its own after f***ing itself up for 12 minutes.”

Steve shattered Matilda’s hope.

“No way. The Grendel should have gotten used to the puddle’s toxicity.”

Matilda couldn’t believe that the Serpent had died. Rather, she didn’t want to believe it at all. Not only was it difficult to report to Adam, but it was also hard to counter the complaints that those narrow-eyed Japs would have. Even she didn’t know who Ishihara Genji, who pumped immense amounts of research funds through Sasakawa’s organization and gave them Serpent, was.

The U.S. was a country of money. The same went for the CIA. It had barely been 40 years since the U.S. and Japan ended their war. Still, the U.S. had helped Japan recover from the war’s aftermath rather benevolently. They had helped Japan, the country that attacked Pearl Harbor and initiated the war. Japan, the country that killed countless Americans.

Japan was also benevolent. It gave research funds and provided human anatomy experiment research results without reservations. No, there were some conditions. They wanted the technique to combine DNAs.

While they could guess Ishihara Genji’s intentions, what of it? It didn’t matter to them whether the small island nation and the smaller half-country across the Pacific Ocean fought each other to the death. She didn’t like the Korean politicians who frequented the U.S. only to whine at them.

The problem was that the Serpent had died. She could only write up a report after looking into the cause. She couldn’t report that the Grendel felt bored with its own life and committed suicide, now, could she?

“I don’t know, ma’am. It’s possible that its entire immune system combusted as a side effect of the DNA combination.”

Steve was very nervous. Its immune system was under the responsibility of Area 51, and its adjustment to poisonous environments was his responsibility.

“That may be true.”

Matilda also doubted the immune system. Otherwise, it was hard to explain its sudden death. She remembered the young man who died due to a collapsed immune system. It was the Mestizo teenager that they forced into a sex frenzy after injecting him with drugs for five hours.

“Perhaps Abbadon? No, that’s impossible.”

Matilda shook her head and erased Abbadon, who jumped out from her memories, from her head. Even Abbadon’s grandfather wouldn’t have survived the explosion which shifted terrains, a natural disaster of heaven’s making. Not even a Haunter nor a Grendel would survive the natural disaster that fell upon Kaparja Valley.

“Steve, we should still check, shouldn’t we?”

While recovering bodies was Matilda’s responsibility, determining the cause of their death was Area 51’s 7th division’s responsibility.

“Damn it!”

Steve’s face crumpled. The matter he’d been worried about finally jumped out of the female mantis’ mouth. He’d barely managed to survive when they were placing the Grendels into the puddle. While the predators, poisonous snakes, and insects could be sent away with chemical products, there was nothing to defend himself against parasites and viruses. Over 90% of their Ituri team had died from an unknown virus not registered with the FDA or became disabled. He had merely survived out of pure luck. Or in Korean terms, his ancestors had protected him.

The Ituri Jungle wasn’t a place where safety could be ensured with modern equipment. It would be easier to sleep with an alligator or a lion. When Steve showed signs of hesitation, frowns creased Matilda’s forehead. Frowns suited beauties, too.

“You don’t want to go? Shall I assign you to the Sahara instead?”

“Hahaha, of course I do. I’ll prepare a strike team.”

A rain of sweat ran down Steve’s chest. Two Grendels had died in Ennedi’s Ounianga. The strike team was remade into a stationed troop, but those from Area 51 determined that there was an attacker. The CIA sent out three investigation teams to look into their deaths and all three went missing. The Ennedi was the CIA’s graveyard. He didn’t want to die at the age of 40 leaving behind a perfectly good world.

“I can’t show my pretty face down there with absolutely nothing, can I? I’ll ask my boss to give you the mechanic Haunter that had finished its first round of testing.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Unlike his words, Steve’s face wasn’t that bright. The mechanic Haunter’s ability was strong enough to defeat the ranger troops, having made of artificial muscles and locomotion stances. While his chances of survival would go up, the Haunter wouldn’t be able to stop the parasites and viruses.

“Damn it, nothing is going as planned.”

Matilda threw the stainless mug cup she’d been holding as soon as Steve left the room. The silk road she’d been on to the path of promotion had turned into a path of rocks ever since the Cuckoo’s Nest plan failed. She had failed in Ennedi, and now there was a problem in Ituri.

If it was a problem with their immune system, the entire MK project would tremble to its foundations. Re-vamping a project which cost over 100 billion dollars? Just thinking about it was terrifying.

Thinking of reporting this to Adam was terrible. The death of the Serpent wasn’t a small matter. Just the immediate loss alone was 100 million dollars. 40 million dollars went into its embryo development until its growth as an adult. 60 million dollars went into relocating the Serpent, money they had received from Genji. Of course, that money would be the CIA’s operation fees.

The Serpent dying from external factors? That was impossible. There wasn’t a single creature on earth that could defeat the Serpent. They’d already confirmed that it was safe against all existing poisons and parasites. The only thing that could kill Serpent was Abbadon. Of course, this only applied if the bastard was alive.

“Abbadon, Abbadon!” Matilda mumbled as she looked outside the window covered in darkness. While she was certain Abaddon was dead, her throat felt ragged as though a thorn was embedded within.

Grrrr! The unknown large monster sank to the bottom of the lake floor. Black Mamba, too, collapsed onto the floor. While he’d managed to slice the monster into pieces using Vajra, he had received significant injuries. His arm that had been chewed on flapped around, and his left hip was dislocated from the monster’s tail’s smacking. Around three ribs had cracked underneath the pressure of the monster’s hold on his body.

“F****ng hell!”

He laughed senselessly. The monster was an anaconda expanded ten times in size with the addition of two feelers. While the Ituri Jungle was full of unknown monsters, he hadn’t imagined he’d go up against a monster like this.

If he hadn’t had the angel’s egg and Vajra, he would have been defeated by the monster. Still, how fortunate it was that he survived in the water! Black Mamba began to meditate as he sat at the bottom of the lake, now silent again. Ooooo… The shiny particles that floated out of his spine increased in number as time passed. His cells started to split, and the dead cells were rapidly pushed out. His internal and external wounds healed rapidly.

“Hmph!”

Black Mamba stood. He had recovered enough to pull himself out of the swamp. While it was just about 40% from his full power, staying any longer would make him lose Samedi. Boom! He barely managed to activate his dimensional sight. His large scan area had decreased immensely. All kinds of things which floated into the water due to the struggle between him and the monster interrupted his search. He tried poking everywhere, but Samedi didn’t show up on his radar.

“Ugh, there is another?”

Black Mamba’s face crumpled. Instead of Samedi’s traces that he was searching for, a large monster was caught on his radar again. There were two, in fact. He grew anxious. He didn’t want a continued title match against monsters the same size and strength as the prior. He could get rid of them with his Vajra, but he had to return Samedi to land fast.

He tried putting his palm against the monster’s body, where the neck had been sliced off. Boom! The dimensional sight swept through the monster’s body.

“Kekeke!”

If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was underwater, he would have opened his mouth and laughed. Samedi was in the monster’s stomach. He was rather unfortunate, in that regard. Zzzzt! He sliced open the monster’s stomach with his Vajra and tore its liver with his Billion’s Water Armor. Inside was Samedi’s completely fine body with a half-digested sitatunga. He didn’t have the leisure to check whether he was dead or alive.

He grabbed a fistful of his wet hair and kicked off the swamp’s floor towards the surface. He used his resonance to propel himself forward. Around 50 meters up, a silvery rope flicked past his face.

“Bingo!” Black Mamba, who caught it reflexively, cheered. It was the army rope he’d released from fighting with the monster. Rather, it was the thread from heaven. Twang! The rope straightened firmly. Black Mamba used its sudden tension to propel up to the swamp’s surface like an arrow.

Whoosh! The swamp shot up into the air as though it was exploding. Two beings covered in swamp water landed on the floor with a thud. The army rope had used too much tension and had dug halfway into the ocum tree. As Emil said, the army rope was strong enough to withstand 200kg of weight moving quickly, which resulted in several tons of pressure.

“Ugh, uh, I nearly died.”

Black Mamba threw the treasure down onto the ground, further away, and sprawled out across the floor. The great Black Mamba had really lost his composure. He wondered if he would have survived this had he not spent a month and a half wandering the underground world of Kaparja.

“Ugh, this idiot!”

He didn’t have time to look over his injuries. He took a breath and checked Samedi’s condition. The liver toxicity of creatures that swallowed their prey whole was strong. Most of their prey were suffocated to death or melted with liver acid just before death.

Zombies, however, had amazing physiques. His rubber-like skin had no other injuries. While his breathing and heart rate had dulled, his body was still warm. If he had been a human, he would have had to chant a prayer, but Samedi was a zombie.

He flipped Samedi over and slammed a palm down on his center acupuncture point. He used his resonance to the fullest. Resonance activates the body’s functions by moving cells individually. His head cracked and turned into mush as he tried to squeeze out strength. Black Mamba had to take out Rakshasa in the end, out of strength. The last option was the Soul-Returning Pain Administration.

He held Rakshasa upside down and smacked Samedi with the handle. The Soul-Returning Pain Administration was painful enough to bring people back from the brink of death. Crack crack crack bang bang. Crack crack crack bang bang. The beats started as a strong-weak, strong-weak rhythm soon turned into a rhythm of strong-strong-weak, strong-strong-weak.

“Hhhm!”

Olonge and Kidamba’s faces turned white. No matter how benevolent he was, God was God. The Bodun was being beaten to death by God. It was their turn next. Their hands and feet curled at the sounds.

“Kugh!” Five minutes later, Samedi responded. His shriveled hands moved first. The swamp which had filled his nostrils and throat then spilled out. Samedi’s arms and legs trembled.

“Aigo, I’m going to die.”

Black Mamba flopped onto his back. Samedi’s entire body was firm like raw rubber and strong like an iron board. Wherever he used the Soul-Returning Pain Administration on him, his strength would leave him. His sight turned yellow. He’d never felt so drained since the day he grabbed a gun.

Fortunately, the outer injuries had healed on their own. His shoulder which had turned ragged had scabbed over. His cracked chest bone and leg bones also healed a bit. It was the kind of injuries for which he would have been sent to the Val de Grace military hospital for a month at the level he was before Sahel. He didn’t know why his regenerative skill had grown stronger, though.

He opened the emergency pouch hanging on his chest. There was a folding knife, a Glock, nutrition capsule, pain reliever, Zippo lighter, Vajra, and the Angel’s Egg. He lifted the ange sicacuh (Angel’s egg) and looked into it.

It had grown warmer since the time he received it. It was a slight difference, but he could tell. Other than that, it was a normal jewel. He used his Inner Eye. Something seemed to move within, but he couldn’t feel it.

“I should look into this. Seems like I’m indebted to the Pygmy old man.”

He didn’t know why, but he managed to breathe underwater thanks to the Angel’s Egg. Otherwise, archeologists and historians would have suffered headaches and migraines in the far future with his remains on a dissecting bed with the mix of zombie, Epidium, and monster genes at hand.

“Idiotic bastards, be grateful that you lived because of the old man.”

Black Mamba decided to forgive Olonge and Kidamba for acting so irresponsibly. The effects of scolding them wouldn’t last half a day anyways. He simply left them be.

“Whoa, what are they doing now?”

Olonge and Kidamba had attached themselves to Samedi. They were wiping the swamp water off him, washing him off with the water from their water bottles, and causing a general ruckus. His head ached at the very non-Pygmy actions. He couldn’t tell whether Olonge and Kidamba’s actions were normal to the Pygmies or a part of their innate nature.

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