Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 679: Chapter 63 Episode 15 Asura

The 12.7mm quadruplex machine guns and Vulcan cannons cannot reach beyond an altitude of 4,000 meters. The main weaponry, 88mm anti-air cannons, Mistrals, and Crotales are expensive. With the cost of one German 88mm shell, they could plant 100 jatrophas along the border. With the cost of one Crotale, they could feed 100 families waiting for entry for a year. The precious money was being shed in the air.

“Shoot correctly!”

“They are targeting the Royal Palace. Make it rain!”

“Are you blind? Aim for their heads!”

The shouts were in Korean and French. The heads of squads yelled frantically and barrels glowed red but the “airship” continued to sail toward the palace.

Looking up from the ground, Garuda was inevitably an airship. The form was a bit odd but the plump body was supported by wings that were too wide and a streamlined, smooth shape. With its slow flying speed, it was easy to mistake it for an airship.

“What kind of blimp is that strong? Are blimps made of diamond these days?”

Ahmad, scanning the battlefield with his binoculars, felt uneasy. The heavy body moving at low speed sustained all of their projectiles. And it didn’t flinch after getting hit by hundreds of projectiles. The 88 anti-aircraft guns, let alone missiles, could penetrate 250mm armor. One of them should have been enough to take out an airship.

“How many hit you?”

[Small ones, 352. Big ones, 15.]

“Ahmad! You should know how much one Crotale costs.”

Mu Ssang grumbled, thinking of all the money wasted.

“Is it really your home? Why are they shooting at me?”

“They are shooting to celebrate.”

Mu Ssang lied hurriedly.

“Twelve dragonflies have taken off 45 kilometers into Area 215.”

“Look at them. They waste oil now that it is free.”

Mu Ssang felt bitter, petty as he was.

“Garuda, notify the ground that I am here.”

“I see.”

Garuda’s body, being primarily a pesticide sprayer, was a veritable chemical factory. It could procure all the necessary substances and produce all kinds of chemicals it needed. The air dozens of kilometers around stirred. It sucked in vapor, argon, aerosol, helium, and cadmium silicate in the atmosphere. Then it mixed up substances and glue it needed in dozens of seconds.

A 300mm nozzle poked out of its tail. A massive amount of orange cloud gushed out. From another nozzle came gushing out dicarbon dioxide which set the orange cloud in place. On a backdrop of a blue sky, a 2,500-meter wide, 500-meter tall orange banner written in Korean appeared.

<I am here.>

“Oh my, what did it just do?”

“That bird brain!”

Mu Ssang and Ssamdi were at a loss for words. It literally said “I am here” to announce Mu Ssang’s arrival.

“What’s the matter? I applied a fluorescent substance to the text. It is set in place by dicarbon dioxide. It will be visible day and night for a hundred years or more.”

The quantum artificial intelligence stated nonchalantly. Thus, Novatopia saw the birth of an art form called midair installation art.

The gunfire ceased at once. The people on the ground gazed fixedly at the brilliant orange banner fixed in the sky. They seemed to understand what the message implied.

“He’s here!”

Someone yelled. Ahmad slapped his forehead. It was so. Only Mu Ssang could summon miracles and exact supernatural events. Only then he realized that the flying object never showed them any aggression.

“Mu Ssang is here!”

Ahmad shouted.

“Whoa!”

“Our king is here!”

The Peshmerga entered a state of trance. They threw their helmets up in the air, shot blanks, hugged each other, and cried.

“I did well, didn’t I?”

“You did. Maintain the course and lower the altitude.”

Mu Ssang smacked his lips. Garuda’s message achieved the effect he wanted. He had nothing to say to that.

“A great bird!”

“Our king is here!”

When Garuda lowered its altitude, an explosive roar was heard. Ahmad snapped out of his awe and yelled into his walkie-talkie that Mu Ssang is here.

* * *

Garuda activated its anti-gravity measure and landed softly in the Garden of Water like a feather. The landing didn’t require any standard procedures like checking altitude, checking side wind, reducing engine output, closing the throttle, partial application of the flaps, and full application of the flaps. It didn’t need to open the canopy. When Mu Ssang thought he should exit the creature, he was already standing on its head.

“Hide yourself, Garuda!”

The vast body disappeared without a trace.

“Whoa!”

He had expected it. With the common sense of the 20th century, the technological concept of the Concretus couldn’t be understood.

“They ruined the garden!”

Mu Ssang looked around and remarked. The Yoa Palace was close to a park rather than a palace. Heavy machinery and laborers were doing maintenance work on the site like ants but the garden still bore the scars made by the recent bombings.

“One, two, three…”

“If it were not you and I, who will protect this land?”

The Royal Guards ran to them, receiving the transmission from Ahmad.

“He did it again!”

Mu Ssang slapped his forehead. The marching song must be Sun Woo-hyun’s work.

“Ah!”

The head of the squad spotted Mu Ssang and made a face like that of a lost child reuniting with their mother.

“You are still here, Aishe!”

The heavy baritone voice echoed in the garden.

“Mu Ssang!”

“When will you get married?”

“I don’t see any husband material yet!”

Aishe smiled with teary eyes.

“You are here, Mu Ssang!”

Ombuti knelt. At last, Edel would not be throwing tantrums hysterically. He wanted to hurrah. Now he was free from pandering to her at last.

“Long live Mu Ssang!”

The Royal Guards knelt at once.

“You did well. There is no time. Hold a conference right this moment.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Our king is here!”

Someone shouted.

“Whoa!”

“Our king is here!”

A roar swept across the Royal Palace. Mu Ssang was present but never ruled. He was an object of adoration and a representation of Novatopian life. Soldiers, laborers, and palace personnel let go of their work and gathered like a swarm of bees. In a few moments, thousands gathered around Mu Ssang.

“Haha, this is embarrassing.”

Mu Ssang looked at Ombuti with a perplexed expression on his face.

“Wakil, you need to make a speech.”

Ombuti grinned with his wrinkled face.

“Dear citizens, your blood and sweat built Novatopia. This sacred land was tended to by our blood and sweat. Filthy forces invaded this land where we and our children will live on for generations. Families and children were injured and died. I came to rid this land of the band of thugs.”

“Whoa!”

“Mu Ssang is with us!”

“Let us go drive away the thugs!”

Mu Ssang raised a hand. The shouts stopped.

“For a nation to function, everyone must do their given work. Farmers must till the land. Carpenters must carve wood. Warfare is the work of me and the Seven Hammers. You shall focus on your jobs unwaveringly.”

“Thus said Mu Ssang!”

A roar shook the garden of the Royal Palace.

There was an echoing howl.

“Lady Edel is here!”

The crowd split at once. Edel, wearing a surgical gown, ran to Mu Ssang in big strides. Dino followed suit.

“Mu Ssang!”

Mu Ssang grinned with his arms wide open. Edel’s frail frame jumped into his embrace. She smelled of blood instead of perfume but she was still lovely.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

When he embraced Edel, the first thing he remembered was the terrible flavor of the extremely spicy chowder. Eating is an activity shared by the entire animal kingdom. Maybe he was reluctant to leave Eungsimje because he got accustomed to Jin-soon’s cuisine.

The peripheral nerves registering flavors were located on the tongue, in the mucosal tissue of the mouth, and in the nose but ultimately, the brain is responsible for processing all the stimuli. A flavor of a dish is an inherently subjective sensation influenced by one’s environment, culture, and values. Even though the dishes she made tasted horrible, he still loved her because of her kindness. A man could tolerate horrible food but never unkindness.

“Long live Lady Edel!”

The crown roared.

“I am here, Prince!”

“I am here, Princess!”

“He is here!”

When they hugged each other, the crowd cheered.

“Let us go inside fast.”

Embarrassed, Mu Ssang told Ombuti hurriedly. Thus, unlike the original meaning in Korea, the phrase “I am here” began to mean “the savior is here” in Novatopia. “He is here” began to mean “the solution is here.” The same phrase can mean different things depending on the context and location where it is uttered.

* * *

The Rwenzori Mountains were 2,600 kilometers away from Novatopia. The Orangniki Valley was located here, deep inside the most remote wilderness on Earth.

“Whoa!”

Lamartin dropped his spoonful of sherbet. Matilda, serving him in a pair of hot pants, raised her hand. The spoon rose midair before hitting the table. The small incident was concluded without anyone’s clothes getting dirty, but Lamartin still looked sullen.

“Did you feel it too, Nialatep?”

“I did!”

The figure whose hair and beard were silver but skin was taut and smooth like a 30-year-old’s, nodded.

“It must be Baphomet, right?”

“If it is not ancient, it cannot emit hyper-energy neutrinos. There are no recent supernova explosions.”

Nialatep said curtly.

“Do you have any guesses?”

“It’s not Mambasa. If it is that close by, I would know. It’s at least 2,000 kilometers away.”

“We need the help of the CIA to search for it. Matilda, contact the executor.”

Matilda set up the antenna on the table, entered the passcode, made a satellite call, and turned on the speaker phone.

“Are you well, dear Grandmaster?”

The breaking-up, machine sound characteristic of coded satellite communication, echoed in the room.

“Davis, we sensed the appearance of Baphomet.”

“Where?”

“It’s too far for us to locate it accurately.”

“I see. We will allocate 30 percent of the NSA resources to tracking Baphomet and 20 percent of the CIA Special Ops agents too.”

“I understand that is almost all the resources you can muster. Investigate Almia Alvarado in the Sahara separately. Adam will handle it on his own. The desert could not turn into green pasture in such a short amount of time. Unusual circumstances surround an unusual event.”

“Got it. We restored the photo the researcher who excavated Oparts had. The figure in the photo is suspected to be Korean. We asked the Korean Ministry of Foreign Affairs and ANS for help. We also asked the Japanese national police. It is something trivial but since it is related to Oparts, I thought I’d inform you on it.”

“A Korean?”

Matilda’s eyes glinted.

“Do you have any guesses?”

Nialatep asked.

“Sorry for interfering. It may be wrong but the supercomputer analyzed the skeletal anatomy of Abaddon and deduced it matched the Korean phenotype with 70 percent probability. There was a report that the King of Novatopia is likely Korean too. It may be relevant.”

Matilda said cautiously. The two grandmasters were godlike beings. She wanted to punish herself for budging in their conversation.

“He is quite a troubling figure. He may cause more hassle for us. Let Adam investigate anything related to Korea and you, Matilda, should investigate Almia Alvarado.”

“Yes, Grandmaster.”

Matilda bowed politely.

“Davis, did you deploy Predators in Mambasa?”

“They will be on tomorrow’s flight.”

“Great. Don’t consider too many variables. Remember that everything the United States of America does is just and righteous. Long live America!”

“God bless her!”

Matilda wrapped up the satellite communicator. Lamartin clenched his fist.

“Is this the beginning of a new era?”

“A new era has already begun. The Great Rift Valley’s revealed inner flesh is trembling in pain.”

Nialatep turned his gaze upon the scenery outside the window where a column of black smoke was rising.

The sherbet the chef made with the very methodology of the 17th century was all but melted sugary water now but no one paid any mind. If everything went smoothly, there would be no noise whatsoever. An event began with the smallest of causes in an unexpected location.

* * *

“Have you been well, Minister?”

The strong-looking woman who had been sitting at the conference table stood abruptly and then bowed.

“Did you have fun, Mago?”

“I’ve had so much fun. The land is full of energy. People are honest and diligent. Because they already believe in you, Korean folk religion cannot take root here but people still are very interested.”

“It must be so. If you beat up someone to exorcise them or put a pig’s head on a rock at a tourist attraction, you will be sent to the windbreak forest. You have behaved well.”

“Thank you. You were right.”

Mago grinned.

“Are you happy?”

Mu Ssang looked around at the conference attendees.

“We are.”

An ardent answer echoed in the conference room.

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