Mercenary Black Mamba

"Bellman, how's the business going?"

"Oh, Black! It's enough to live on. If America's security was a little weaker, you could have built a summer house in Maine, Black. Hurry over. I'll steam for you a sea lobster that is fished right out of Maine."

Bellman's cheerful voice ran down the line and raced through 1,000s of kilometers. His real name was Davis, but Bellman was a name that Black Mamba had gotten used to.

"I'll eat that lobster next time. I got called in, you see. Can you guess anything?"

Mu Ssang didn't want to be dragged into something without knowing the situation. Bellman used to be a CIA scene officer in Central Asia. Gaining some information shouldn't be hard with his connections.

"Got it. Call me in two hours."

Bellman didn't disappoint him. He shared information regarding the terror attacks in France and the possible backers behind the attacks in Syria.

"Thanks. If I collect some guns again, I'll send them through Emil."

"Kekeke, that's good. Be careful."

Black-haired and white-haired beauties underneath the 18-seater private jet trap bowed their backs in a traditional, oriental way. One was a tall, blue-eyed Norman woman with a high nose bridge while the other was a brown-skinned, half-Spanish woman. Both were wearing tops that revealed most of their breasts and a short miniskirt that barely covered their lower body.

"Enchanté. Je suis se voire!"

"Ha! F*** you!" he replied in Korean.

When they bowed with their revealing clothes, a woman's G-cup chest fell out. Unlike Black Mamba, who was surprised, the woman simply rearranged her clothes with a smile.

"Hm, she's trying so hard," Black Mamba mumbled in Korean.

It was a type of s*x business. Regardless of the east or the west, the best form of bribery was s*x. Bonipas must have blabbed to the Ministry of Interior that Black Mamba was weak against women. Well, he supposed the misunderstanding was justified considering how Edel had stayed by his side the entire time during his hospitalization.

Black Mamba's gaze swept past the two women who were attempting their most sexy poses. The white woman with shiny golden hair spread her legs slightly. It was a provocative pose. She was sexy enough that men would drool over her.

"Useful!" Black Mamba commented soullessly and entered the plane.

The golden-haired woman and an extremely curvy woman stared at each other in disbelief.

When he pressed a button, the seat automatically transformed. It was a seat that was much more comfortable than a bed. It was way different compared to his first flight on a DC-10, which he had boarded with a heavy heart.

The countryside Mu Ssang, who used to wear worn-out jumpers and stretched out pants, had disappeared. Back then, he had been a sans-papiers[1]. Now, he was the special military advisor, major Park, attended by golden and black-haired stewardesses.

Black Mamba had meditated throughout the entire flight. His posture didn't change, despite the jet turbulence and the 50 meters drop from the air.

[You don't think your sins are cleared now, do you? F****** b*stard, I'll send you to court once and for all. I'm going to show you the power of a prosecutor.]

The words of prosecutor Kim Dal Soo, who had said it on the day of his probation, rang in his ears. Even now, he could still see the man's eerie smile and smell his rotten breath. He hadn't been able to say anything back then. He could have turned the man's face into mush with a single wave if he had known how to become one with nature back then. Otherwise, Kim Dal Soo would have been discovered as a corpse.

Kim Dal Soo, you should be living a good life since you've received bribes for the next few years. Enjoy that bonus for now while I work for food. Power of a prosecutor? You're a wimp who can't do anything without the organization behind your back. I'll show you my power instead.

His brain, which should have been satisfied with his rising value, kept reminiscing about the past.

"Bonuru, do you know him?" Jeanne asked the blue-eyed woman.

"Not at all, we only received orders to serve him well. What do you think 'do whatever he asks for' means?"

"Hm, I'd jump on him even if there wasn't such an order. He's got a good build and looks handsome even though he's yellow."

"Who do you think he is? He didn't even blink when the airplane was shaking. It's strange that the company didn't tell us his name."

"It's strange, but I don't need to know that. There are only two important things here."

"Kikiki. A wallet and the lower bottom?"

"Mm, a man who's successful enough to ride a private plane, and a man who's handsome enough that one looks forward to his next generation. What else do you need?"

"Since it's going to be nighttime when we arrive, I guess..."

Jeanne twisted her long legs.

"Crazy b****, are you already overflowing because of a male?"

"He's too handsome to be yellow, don't you think? His body is a piece of art. There's not a spot of fat."

"Ugh, it's already hard."

Bonuru poked Jeanne's breast with her finger.

"Oh, Bonuru, stop, stop it. I get wet easily. I don't want to change my underwear." Jeanne shivered.

"Jeanne, don't get too greedy. Don't you remember the last time you received a warning?"

"Hmph, the officer from the DGA was at fault. Who told him to be blinded by sex? I only lent him my lower body to gain some information. That f***** got me a six months suspension from office, do you think that makes sense? I'm going to eat up the general director and embarrass him by showing up on Canal+." Jeanne sniffed as though she was mad.

"Crazy b****. The problem is that the information was about the development of le cholera. You received 5,000 francs by handing the information over to a consultant, didn't you?"

"My lower body is expensive. That bald officer was a rabbit, anyway. I saw the losses, you know."

"Shut up, you got a good catch during your suspension as a nurse, didn't you? Give me that man."

"Hohoho, that bulky, idiotic mercenary? Don't even mention him. He got mad after a night. I burned his insides into crispy soot. We went off on a cruise, you see."

Huh! Jeanne? A cruise?

Black Mamba's ears twitched in the middle of his meditation. The two stewardesses were hiding behind the stewardess' room. They were chattering, thinking they'd lowered their voice, but everything could be heard like a stereo.

He flipped his consciousness at the mention of Jeanne, stupid mercenary, and cruise vacation. She was the woman who had accompanied Emil on vacation. The world really was a small place. The two women kept chattering.

"So? How did you eat off him?"

"I told him that only a man with good economic skills could get my parents' permission. Then, he said he had 500,000 francs saved up."

"500,000 francs?"

The blue-eyed woman's voice went an octave up. Black Mamba rubbed his ears. The sudden change in sound frequency had given his ears a shock.

"B****, shush. The VVIP is sleeping."

The curvy woman gave a warning. The blue-eyed woman lowered her voice immediately.

"Sorry, if it's a mercenary in his early 20s, isn't he a fraud?"

"You think I can't tell the difference between a fraud and the real deal? No. He's an idiot who didn't even know how to lie. He said he had 60,000 francs in hand and wanted to get married immediately."

"What about the other 400,000 francs?"

"He mentioned something about a temperamental friend holding onto it. So, I received 50,000 francs for our wedding preparations."

"Oh my, oh my! 50,000 francs? How lucky."

In a frenzy, the blue-eyed woman stomped on the plane's floor in her slippers.

"Keke, the 50,000 francs was the problem. He said he could regain the other 400,000 francs when the vacation's over. However, that damned friend of his had returned to his country."

"Damn, that idiot got ripped off by his friend."

"Yes. That's what I said. He got ripped off. I literally jumped up and down. How couldn't I, when my 400,000 francs went away just like that?"

"Oh, how unfortunate. So?"

"Ugh, suddenly, that b*stard got angry at me. He said he would shoot anyone who speaks poorly of his friend, even if it's the president."

"Oh my, oh my God, isn't that b*stard a pervert? Maybe the person that he calls his friend is gay?"

"Stop making up nonsense, that b*stard had an obsession with spraying semen all over women. I got mad too. I asked him who was more important—his friend or me?"

"So, what did he say?"

"That damned b*stard. He said that I was important, but not as much as his friend. He said he'll make a 'hui' out of me. Do you know what 'hui' means?"

"It's a type of raw fish that those yellow people around the eastern edges eat, right? I saw it in the cafeteria at Korea's airport. You can't do barbarians that eat dogs. Did you break up?"

"You b****. Why would you throw away a fountain? I tried to convince him with some amazing service in bed."

Ha, I'd rather die than be ill. Those b****es of a rag are doing a lot.

Black Mamba, who was labeled a swindler and a gay, snorted in disbelief. He felt as though he would go deaf if he heard anymore, and therefore closed off his senses.

There was one truth to the women's chatter. Emil was an idiot. He was an idiot who had shoved his blood-earned money up a woman's bottom.

"That damn b*stard, he ended up shoving his pe*is up a rotten bucket even after that confident display. How stupid is he to plan on marrying such a cheap woman?" Black Mamba lamented.

Like any other typical Spanish, Emil was an emotional guy who liked to play and spend his money. He was the kind of b*stard who would shove his blood-earned money up a woman's rear.

Even upon his return to France, Emil couldn't get a hold of the 400,000 francs. The 400,000 francs were currently in Ombuti's account. Ombuti would give Emil his money periodically. It was the best medication he could give Emil, who lived his life without calculations.

On the other hand, it wasn't as though he couldn't understand. Emil was a street boy who had grown up without parents. He didn't receive normal education, and the grandma he'd been taking care of had passed away just a few years prior.

Emil was someone who starved for love. He was the perfect target for swindlers and slags. Sweet words and gestures easily swayed him.

"I should make him marry as soon as possible. However, what should I do with those rags? They don't seem useful as tablecloths even if I do wash them."

Black Mamba wondered about those rags' respective departments. France's Ministry of Interior was large. Aside from the central department, no one knew the actual number of employees working in the Internal Defense, Regional, and Foreign departments.

"Eh, mademoiselle!"

The blue-eyed woman and curvy woman ran over like the wind.

"Monsieur, would you like a glass of wine? We also have Sciaccarello."

The blue-eyed woman raised her legs slightly and placed it on the chair holder. Her white thighs were revealed. There was a dark shadow over the deepest part of her skirt, but Black Mamba didn't even pay it any attention.

There was no reason for a person to raise their chopsticks for a turbot hui after refusing a fresh longtooth grouper hui.

"No, which department do you belong to, ladies?"

The two women stared at each other at the unexpected question. Their faces reflected confusion as they internally questioned the b*stard's identity.

"I'm a government official too. I'm in a position where some power can be used. I would like to repay you, friendly ladies."

"We're in the 'VIP protection division' of the Ministry of Interior. I'm Jeanne. This is Bonuru."

A reply came immediately.

"VIP protection division? Hmm!"

It was a rather funny name for a division, but there was a division called the "VIP protection division" in the National Police Department. He snorted. He could tell the French government workers were as useless, considering how they had assigned these rags as VIP protection workers.

Well, among all animals, humans were the only ones to be lured by visual aspects. The same went for females and males but specifically males.

The way a human male looked at a human female ran on the border of absurdity. They denied a flat butt responsible for healthy births and praised raised butts.

They criticized strong, thick waists that were as strong as metal cans and praised useless ant-thin waists. They hung their necks on facial features that had nothing to do with reproduction.

Having double eyelids had nothing to do with reproduction. Having high nose bridges didn't create superior children, either. An exceptional beauty with a 0.2 millimeters epidermis was no better than one of the lowest quality.

Besides, a human male measured a woman's capacity based on these useless features. They sunk themselves on the baseless belief that a beautiful, kind woman would perform better. The rags before him were externally beautiful and thin. They were overflowing with kindness and elegance.

"Alright. I have a lot to think about. Don't bother me and be on standby."

The two women's faces scrunched up at his order to leave.

"Monsieur—"

A predator's glare escaped Black Mamba's eyes. He was about to lose his sense of smell from their stench. Their stenches were stronger than when he had used to shovel excretions out of an antique bathroom. Just talking to them made him think about the guinea worm he had pulled out of a child's leg.

"Leave!"

The pouting blue eyeball and coal rushed to their waiting room. The blue-eyed woman and the curvy woman were now blue eyeball and coal to Black Mamba.

"Damn, I should change the pedestrian laws for women, elderly, and children. How are they crazier!" he complained as he shoved his body into the comfortable chair-bed.

He recalled the child who had ran towards him with a gun that was as tall and his teacher who had thrown his apprentice several meters outdoors at the age of 90.

As for women, it was up to them. While there were flower-scented women like Edel and Jin Soon, there were also foul-smelling women like blue eyeballs and coal.

I should wed that b*stard off to someone as soon as possible. Right, Mi Soon!

He recalled Yang Mi Soon, who used to live alone in the next room during his middle school days. She was the third daughter of the Jeomchon farmhouse and had always tried to help him out.

She was a poor older sister who had fled to her parent's house in fear of her husband's abuse. Yang Mi Soon, who was brimming with love and also understanding, would make a great match with Emil, who lacked love. The b*stard struggling in a thick swamp was about to greet a new flower blooming in the morning.

The Ministry of Interior's private jet flew by a layer of clouds and decreased its speed as much as possible. Paris' familiar cityscape spread beneath his feet. Normally, he would have to go through the departure process with the French Embassy in Korea, but a private jet had been prepared for the first time. That was how urgent they were.

"Hehehe, this is the chance to raise my wage. I'll show them what a hallucinating patient can do." Black Mamba smirked.

Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique resonated. The damn b*stards had turned on the fourth movement, of all things, called Marching Towards the Guillotine. The massive cello and bass were led with heavy steps at a 4/4 beat in G minor.

It was a dark piece that he didn't like. The contents of the song were clichéd and dull.

An idiot who loved an older woman faced a denial of love. The distressed idiot killed the woman and headed to the guillotine. What's funnier was that the entire story was a hallucination.

Mu Ssang hated the agenda of ambiguous passion without reason. A cow would laugh at the fact that this was the most renowned romantic symphony.

It was a symphony that seemingly predicted his future of floating around a bloody sea. He hated the piece even more for reminding him of the love he had shared with Hae Young, which was like a midsummer night's dream.

Ba-am—

The landing wheels descended on the ground gently. He was already annoyed because of those rags. His mood worsened upon landing in Paris.

[1] An immigrant without proper work permits or identification.