Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 493 - Episode 14 What Comes Around Goes Around

Chapter 493: Chapter 45 Episode 14 What Comes Around Goes Around

Mu Ssang sensed a fairly dense murderous intent and sneakily scanned the guest seats. He immediately spotted a tall-as-a-lamppost Caucasian man with defined bone structure. What a funny guy he was, daring to bare his murderous intent in a location where the Black Culture, Samdi and Dino were present…

‘Mm? Isn’t he from the MSF’s department of surgery?’

Dimensional Sight allowed Mu Ssang to identify the target using ki and the brain wavelength unique to each individual. He did not even need to see his face to immediately recall the unpleasant doctor from before.

‘Why is that man acting like a mother-in-law who’s been starved for three days straight?’

Mu Ssang began tilting his head in confusion. Was it because of jealousy? From the way that doctor was staring at Edel, lasers might start shooting out from his eyes at any second now. But this world was filled with insane people who got furious and jealous about the love lives of distant celebrities, was it not?

Having a crush was not a crime, obviously. Besides, if that doctor displayed hints of causing trouble, then he would be taken care of appropriately. Mu Ssang withdrew his attention and turned his gaze away.

Unfortunately, a successful person like him would never really understand the victim mentality of others around him.

“Over here, head chef!” Mu Ssang called out to Yijihana.

“Huk? M-me, sir?” Yijihana standing there in a daze was jolted awake.

“Of course. Is there another head chef named Yijihana in this place besides you? Well, if you don’t like being a head chef, quitting is an option, too.” Mu Ssang smiled brightly.

“B-bluart! It’s my honor, sir!”

Yijihana rushed forward towards Mu Ssang before standing at attention. His heart fluttered when he realized that the king of this nation actually remembered the name of someone as unremarkable as him. Actually, he even felt his emotions well up after seeing Mu Ssang’s bright smile.

“You’re giving me goosebumps, head chef. You seem to be at least a decade older than me, so why don’t we be a bit more informal?”

Yijihana felt like he had morphed into a hot charcoal when Mu Ssang patted him on the shoulder.

Since when did the pecking order between a king and a cook get decided based on one’s age?! Yijihana stood there as stiff as an ice pillar.

Mu Ssang began tasting the broth of maeuntang (spicy fish stew), then sampled a bit of bulgogi (sliced, seasoned and barbecued beef). All the chefs deeply tensed up and watched Mu Ssang’s reaction.

‘This is pretty good, considering everything.’

Something felt a bit lacking here and there, but he remembered that this was in the middle of the Sahara, not South Korea. Anyone expecting the properly spicy and lip-smacking flavor in such an environment would be an idiot.

“Excellent. I don’t know much about cooking, but I can tell that you all did a good job at bringing out the original flavor of the ingredients.”

“Wow! Thank you, sir!”

The chefs cried out in elation.

One heartfelt praise was enough to win over these chefs. Cooking took a lot of hard work. One needed a deep understanding of all the ingredients and had to make complicated preparations beforehand too.

How to combine spices to bring out even the faintest flavors, controlling flames to achieve the exact temperature, whether or not to utilize the maturing process… A chef’s hands and brain had to continue working nonstop.

Like how politicians lived or died by their lies, and judges with their judgements, a chef’s worth was determined by the flavor of their dishes. A simple evaluation of ‘excellent taste’ served as a reward for all the hard work they put in — that was part and parcel of the profession called ‘chef’.

“Head chef Yijihana, you must’ve worked hard for this. Have one on me with your subordinates.”

Mu Ssang pulled out a thick wad of bank notes from his pocket and placed them in Yijihana’s hand. This man somehow managed to cook maeuntang, kimchi stew, bulgogi (thinly sliced marinated meat), bibimbap (mixed rice) and japchae (stir-fried glass noodles) even though he did not have all the ingredients available. The head chef’s ability was indeed commendable, but his dedication was what won Mu Ssang over.

“Bluart!”

Yijihana, unexpectedly finding himself with some reward money, hurriedly performed a military salute. Mu Ssang began patting the shoulders of each chef standing in a line and praised them one by one.

“Hooray, Dubaiburupa’s glory be eternal!”

Chefs raised both of their arms and started crying out ‘hooray!’

Yijihana began shedding tears even without realizing it. An easy-going king without any false pretences, a king who recognized the hard work of people under him… It was worth devoting oneself to a king like that.

Yijihana and the other chefs became the Dubaiburupa worshippers in one fell swoop. It was Mu Ssang’s ability to ’empathise’, the skill that scared Chief Ariba so much, working its magic once more.

Mu Ssang headed to the guest table next. What Novatopia most urgently needed was an established healthcare sector. Until it was properly established, the MSF’s assistance would remain absolutely crucial. Even Ombuti treated the MSF members as royalties as he also understood how badly Novatopia needed these doctors.

*

‘That… That’s the bastard, isn’t he?!’

Walter’s eyes grew so wide that they almost fell out of their sockets. He almost cried out, too.

That slender physique, that slim face, those kind-looking eyes, and the faint cross-like scar barely visible on his left cheek…!

That bastard walking over here while holding Edel’s hand was, without a shred of doubt, Black Mamba the mercenary. To think that a damn ‘gelber affe’ (yellow monkey) was Novatopia’s king! A camel might do a roundhouse kick at this rate.

‘You cheap slut. You, you… Damn whore!’

Walter’s eyes were spinning.

As it turns out, that woman was not his angel. She left with that yellow monkey and in the end, showed her true colors as a dirty slut that threw herself at anyone.

As Walter began shuddering from rage, his ears caught the conversation between the chefs.

“Hey, bouillabaisse wasn’t on today’s menu, was it?”

“Oh, you mean that bouillabaisse by Lord Dubaiburupa’s spot? Miss personally cooked that, I think. Head chef prepared the ingredients and came here last night, you see.”

“Oh? Bouillabaisse prepared by an angel? How pleased Lord Dubaiburupa must be, I wonder?”

“Well, it just goes to show how much Miss loves Lord Dubaiburupa.”

“Indeed. The two of them suit each other so well, don’t they? I had no idea someone that amazing would be this easy going, honestly.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I almost cried just now, you know.”

A vulgar ‘gelber affe’ was a great yet easy-going king?! Walter was tempted to rip his ears off at that moment.

Bouillabaisse looked simple enough to cook outwardly, but to get the proper broth, you needed to invest a lot of time and dedication. It was at that moment that Walter’s mind was filled with the image of Edel personally cooking a dish meant for that dirty and vulgar mercenary’s mouth.

His world seemed to crash right there and then. Fuel was dumped on top of his heart already burning in rage and the sense of victimhood.

‘That b*tch and her bastard… I’ll kill you both today.’

Walter was a typical taciturn German with Aryan blood coursing in his veins. He calmed his rage, pulled out the cigarette case resting inside his inner pocket, then smoked a Cohiba Siglo. The aluminium cylinder found in the corner of the case helped with rapidly cooling his head boiling in rage.

*

“Praise be to our Dubaiburupa. I’d like to express my gratitude for inviting us today.”

Doctor Giz quickly got up and bowed deeply. This young ‘giant’ used to be an amnesiac young boy living on the snow-covered mountainside all those years ago. The little friend that used to take saunas with Giz back in Korea’s Bangtae mountain had grown up to become a king and even founded a nation too.

Pride and warmth filled Giz’s eyes.

Mu Ssang rushed toward Giz like a streak of lightning and helped the good doctor stand back up. He then grabbed Giz’s hand tightly. “Doctor, I’m not such a great person that someone as renowned as you needs to bow.”

“I never imagined that the king of Novatopia would be someone this young. It’s my honor to make your acquaintance, sire.”

“It’s my pleasure, too. I genuinely respect the spirit of self-sacrifice you and your fellow members of the MSF have shown us.” Mu Ssang deeply bowed before the MSF doctors and nurses.

[Friend, let us have a private get-together later.]

A quiet little whisper entered Giz’s hearing. Mu Ssang and the doctor wordlessly exchanged some glances and grinned quietly.

“We thank you for inviting us, Lord Dubaiburupa. Bluart, bluart le deje!”

Similar expressions were etched on the faces of each MSF member as they bowed to express their respect — disbelief and unwillingness. All the rumors and guesses turned out to be wrong. Novatopia’s king was not some Arabian prince, a wealthy Israeli, an African chief or even a Grand Sorcerer.

No, he seemed like an ordinary Asian man. A young and handsome one at that. Dozens of pairs of eyes gleaming brightly in curiosity began pricking holes in Mu Ssang’s and Edel’s skin.

Mu Ssang finally shifted his gaze over to Walter. The German’s murderously intense expression instantly reverted back to an expressionless, everyday face. Walter was not some amateur who would let his animosity leak out in front of his enemy.

‘Ah, so it was this punk!’

Mu Ssang remembered Roman Walter now. He was the doctor who refused to treat him back in Ati. He wondered if he should warn this punk right here and now, but in the end, decided to turn his head away. He could not bring himself to get worked up because of every little thing, after all.

“I hope you all enjoy yourselves today!” Mu Ssang waved at the guests before walking back to the seat of honor.

However, that only served to stoke Walter’s anger even further. Here he was, getting all worked up and restless for the past few years, yet this damn bastard did not even recognize him! His venomous glare stabbed deep into Mu Ssang’s departing back.

Someone like Walter suffering from various personality disorders was unable to control their anger after being ignored like this.

*

“All of you must’ve worked your butts off!”

“Well, this is Lord Dubaiburupa’s kingdom where our descendants will call their home, after all.” Aishe replied while smiling brightly.

“Aishe. The Sahara’s UV rays are murderously strong. Although you look good, maybe it’s time you start thinking about taking care of your skin.” Mu Ssang stared at Aishe’s exposed arms and legs while tutting softly.

Her previously-white skin had now become tanned deeply like coal. This was the result of arduously training the vigilante corps. every single day.

“No problem~! We were merely following your commands, Lord Dubaiburupa. [A beautiful face and body is God’s gift to mankind. Everyone should enjoy the beauty of nature’s things. Hiding them and not showing them to the world is a sin.] That’s what you told us. No one here would dare to go against your will, you know?

“Women of Novatopia aren’t brave enough to ignore your teachings, you see. So, burkas and niqabs have basically disappeared from Novatopia altogether. A small portion of women who still wear hijabs and chadors aren’t doing so out of force but out of their wish to continue their traditions. Once you go out to the city, you’ll see a ton of ladies walking around with their arms and legs exposed, sir,” Aishe passionately explained the trend, her eyes now resembling round moons.

‘…Sigh!’

Mu Ssang cried out inwardly. Something he said in passing back then because he thought Edel might get embarrassed had somehow morphed into a maxim spoken by the god’s apostle.

At this rate, these folks might really expose their chests and walk around if he told them to do so. It was at this moment that Mu Ssang got a renewed understanding on how much Novatopia’s residents acknowledged Dubaiburupa as the god’s apostle, their prophet.

“O-oh, I see. Do they like it, though?”

“Of course. Ladies are so happy about being liberated from niqabs and burkas. Lord Dubaiburupa, you’ve basically become THE love of all women living on this land, you know? Oh, even the menfolk will be exalting you, too. Even though they are having a bit of a hard time figuring out where to look these days! I’m also a Dubaiburupa fan, you see. Hohoho~!”

“I’m relieved to hear that everyone is happy with it!”

Mu Ssang was sweating bullets inwardly. He somehow stumbled into a tough spot where he needed to watch everything he said.

It was in women’s nature to… Expose themselves. Mu Ssang was a na?ve guy at heart, so never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that women of Novatopia would use the apostle’s maxim as their pretext to turn into a bunch of exhibitionists.

“I’d like to thank you, Dubai. Even though I got involved accidentally, I still didn’t think the second half of my life would be this glorious. Allow me to dedicate this toast in your honor.” Orifice suddenly pushed his deeply-tan face forward and joined the conversation.

“Looks like we have more than one pervert here who wants to thank me even after toiling away like slaves.” A broad smile lit up Mu Ssang’s face.

“Our king is the real pervert in this case, though. You’ve sunk all the money you earned after going through hell into the middle of this desert just so that you can keep feeding burnt-out has-beens like us.”

“Wah-hahaha!” Mu Ssang exploded in laughter at Orifice’s counterattack.

“Take a look at that. Isn’t it beautiful enough to bring tears to your eyes? Jipoon Dari’s sunset alone is a good-enough reward for all my troubles.” Shernion pointed at the horizon dyed in the hues of amber and faint purple.

Massive sandstone structures jutted out of the crimson landscape, framing a lake burning under the sunset glow — it was a truly breathtaking scenery to behold.

“This doesn’t seem like earthly scenery, does it? Once we finish constructing the artificial oasis that will serve as the hub, Novatopia’s citizens will probably not go hungry from the tourist money alone.” Orifice’s whole face was smiling now.

He settled down in this place because he hated living in an urban environment where it was hard to even breathe properly.

A land only needed to be utilized properly. Once the infrastructure for tourism was set up, Europeans tired of the city life would no doubt flock to this place in droves.

Mu Ssang continued to speak. “The rate of progress for both the greening and construction projects have exceeded my expectations. Honestly, I did not expect all of you to exhibit such a high level of abilities like this. I shall listen to the detailed report tomorrow. For now, let us toast to our success. Bluart!”

“Bluart!”

Mu Ssang gulped down the Akra in one go and felt the booze sting its way down his throat. He felt his chest get hotter. It was not from the alcohol, however.

He accepted refugees with nowhere to go, turned the withered desert into a verdant land, and even set out to create a liveable country. Was this not what any hot-blooded man born into this world would crave to achieve some day?

‘Mm?’

Mu Ssang, soaked in this content feeling, suddenly turned his head to stare in the direction of the exit. His Dimensional Sight caught someone’s brain wave becoming unstable, as well as his lifeforce rapidly weakening.

“Aishe, who is standing guard by the back garden’s entrance?”

“That’s the area supervised by the head of the 3rd security team, Wazalan, sir.”

“A problem occurred there. Go check it out.”

Even before Mu Ssang finished saying that, an audible commotion broke out by the back garden’s entrance. Aishe rushed over there without replying to him. The commotion grew louder and louder. Someone was even calling for a doctor with a loud voice.

Mu Ssang expanded his hearing even further. The commotion taking place at the entrance of the residence 300 meters away could be heard clearly now.

The sounds of a nurse performing CPR, someone shouting for a defibrillator, someone sighing weakly, and someone screaming that Wazalan had died were getting messily tangled up in his hearing. Mu Ssang shot up to his feet before vanishing from the spot.

“His heart stopped beating without a warning, sir. CPR would have worked if his smooth muscles have gone rigid, but in my opinion, his heart muscles are experiencing atonia. CPR will not do much,” said Doctor Giz.

He shook his head while pointing at the nurse currently sitting on top of Wazalan’s chest and pumping down with enough vigor to break his bones.

“Aishe, push everyone back except for Doctor Giz.”

“Bluart!”

Members of the vigilante corps quickly pushed back the crowd before establishing an encirclement around the perimeter. Mu Ssang pressed his palm on Wazalan’s chest.

He activated his Dimensional Sight once more. But he could not see any other symptoms besides Wazalan’s heart not beating at all.

Wazalan’s current status was that the terfenadine’s toxins, strengthened by itraconazole, had blocked off the calcium channels found in his heart’s smooth muscles. The abnormal heart voltage caused the heart muscles and smooth muscles to go limp like a dead jellyfish.

His condition was already beyond the level of restarting the heart’s contractions by massaging the heart or stimulating it through drugs. Mu Ssang had no professional medical knowledge and thus did not know such mechanisms were at work.

Wazalan’s body started to vibrate. Some said that being ignorant made you braver. A humongous amount of resonance wave was poured into Wazalan’s heart.

Powerful waves of shocks that even a defibrillator could never hope to match began rocking Wazalan’s heart. All the accumulated waste material found in the heart cells were cleanly washed away, and in the process, terfenadine’s toxins were also swept away like a mudbank being washed away by an unstoppable flood.