God of Blackfield

It took quite a while to help one wheel.

Confirming 39 dead bodies.

When I came back to the last place, I didn't have the strength to enter my right leg.

The steps were strange, and the weapons and bullets on the wind made a strange sound, and the pain of the strangely wounded felt comforting.

Enzo waits for the floor and binds his legs with a cloth.

Shh, shh, shh.

As the hymn approaches, I tie my thighs and Enzo stretches his legs and lays his back and head on the bed.

“Dig under the desk there. ”

I didn't feel well because I was looking around the body.

However, there must have been a reason if it had been an order to look into these eyes.

Kang Chan moves to the place where Zamjaco Enzo points with his chin and stabs his hand inside the desk.

Feeding.

I was stubborn.

When I scraped the floor with my hand, it was because I had two bags of cigarettes stacked in plastic.

Kang Chan moved to get water with the vinyl in his hand.

The right leg was a little more attractive, but it was still quite movable. A bottle of water was given to Enzo, and he drank it as he was sitting in front of him.

I thought I'd live.

Thanks to a bottle of water and a cigarette on the ground!

When I was an outsider, I used to imagine battles.

I thought I'd hide in the trenches, pull the trigger on running enemies, or jump into a breathless operation and fight similarly armed enemies.

“Whoo.”

The man who drank the water tore a cigarette and gave it to Enzo, and asked for one in his mouth.

Chul-kung. Chiait.

A lighter light that sold its spirit to Enzo and the face of the hymn moved to the end of the cigarette like a villager who was struck by a barbarian.

“Whoo.”

It was after Kanghyun spit out the smoke for a long time.

“When you feel angry about killing a person, it becomes dangerous. ”

Enzo leans on the bed and talks out of bed.

“Farmers plow fields, clerks type, and outsiders kill people. ”

Enzo sucks the cigarette into his mouth with a bent index finger and a stopper so deep that the front shines brightly.

“Hoo. You follow orders, and that's the process? That's all. Being alive is the most important thing. So you don't have to think about why you had to kill, why you became a corpse. ”

Kang Chan retreated and leaned back on his desk.

“Heal your wounds. ”

“We'll do it in a little while. ”

I wanted to take a break now.

If I was in Korea, would I have been a murderer?

Or did it become an unhealthy pupil?

The sky that lifted its gaze was still mysterious.

* * *

Summer 2001.

It was the third day of Special Forces Joint Training.

I put special equipment on my camouflage and picked up a rifle with an advanced device on my chest. Equipment that informs the target's death or injury by considering distance and wind when pulling the trigger of a rifle.

As the situation on the ground appeared in real time on the Situation Room Monitor, commanders from the three countries could immediately see the outcome of the virtual battle.

The differential fungus swallowed the curse.

Skills are not much behind.

To be honest, objectively, there was nothing missing: goobo, march, rifle, shooting, anything.

The problem was a minor one.

It's an experience. Let's hit it. However, this damn camouflage should have paid more properly than this.

The camouflage worn by Greenberry and SAS is really hard to visualize when entering the forest.

But, by the way.

The camouflage of the Special Recognition Team was clearly recognizable.

The color of the camouflage was too pronounced.

How can you deceive an enemy's eyes when the color of his camouflage in the bush is so thick?

‘Fuck. I gave him a whiter camouflage than snow and turned him into an asshole. ’

The differential fungus bites it tightly and swallows the curse again.

The opponent wears an eye color camouflage when buried.

The good guys showed up in faint camouflage that wasn't even dyed properly.

Hyah! But when those camouflage clothes enter the white snowfield, they will be exposed to the surrounding light and melt in the background.

The Special Support Team's camouflage was a shiny white camouflage with no spots anywhere. How in the world, moving in the snow field can be a disguise for the clothes that are right on the camera. Nevertheless, the fallen elders used to stare at the white camouflage like that.

If it wasn't for Choi Sung-gon, I'd already beat up the Special Forces.

“You are the last borough of the Republic of Korea. Future battles will be won and lost based on the special team's performance. Don't lose your pride as a special team, even if it doesn't shine, but you won't make a lot of money. ”

Compared to his skills in the situation room, he always tried to instill pride in his crew after the training.

The pride of a special team? It's not that important.

It was just the pride of the differential that Choi Sung-gun, like a child, wrapped around and protected like a son.

Pushueung!

Beefy!

Another signal sounded that another crew member had been killed.

The differential fungus recalls Choi Sung-gun's face, which was silently tolerated in the situation room.

“Colonel! Do you really think we'll be a world-class special team? ”

“Crazy bastard!”

One day, Choi Sung-gon asked the question of the differential fungus, with a great deal of laughter.

“Hey, you bastard! Don't you think I picked you up in a backward auditorium while you drank the colonel? If you're the only one who's awake, we'll definitely be a world-class special team. ”

“I'm not confident. ”

Choi Sung-gon smiled and stretched out his hand and felt alive on the shoulder and neck of the differential. He pulls the differential fungus as if he were pulling on his elementary son with such an extended hand.

“Let's do it, homosexual. I hope the world we don't need is the best, but let's be a special team like that that that no one can stop us from going out there. ”

One meteor from the sky, which the differential fungus looks at, is falling with its long tail extended.

* * *

Early winter 2001.

Puck! Puebuck!

The thumb plugs its fists into the jaws of those who block the alleyway.

Whew, whoop!

Then I climb up the wall and grind the last stranglehold.

Furry!

The short fight is over.

Stars, assholes!

The thumb ring that robs the palm of the hand comes out of the alley with the bag.

I'm tired of dealing with assholes like that.

However, at one time, I wanted to be king among them.

Studying is a middle-to-middle-school skill, but it's hard to go to an academy or a lecture. Even if you send me, I won't be the thumb to go to the academy or the lecture.

Adults don't have a head for studying these things.

It's less cumbersome.

On a day like this, when my heart is shaking, my thumb must meet my mother and enter the house.

When you enter a small market parking lot, there are stalls in the middle of the aisle.

So there are two market barrels with thumb rings.

There's a stall in the middle between the left-hand shop and the right-hand shop, so there's a little passageway to the left.

Upon entering the market, the thumb stopped walking in the middle and looked at the slippery mother.

The balls and nose were frozen red.

It's the money that freezes in the stall like that, laughs happiest when you live on a bike for your thumb.

My mother found her thumbs twitching about to miss a guest.

“It's cold. What are you doing there? ”

“I'm going in to see my mother. ”

“My son, what should I do when it's cold? ”

When I see that mother's face, I feel like I've eaten badly.

“Mother, I'm going home. ”

“Ouch! Don't be so hard, we'll have to go with a chopstick of Odin or a chameleon. ”

“No, we're having dinner. ”

“Would you like that?”

The thumb waved his hand to his mother and headed home.

A mother whose son is not good at studying is the whole world.

A mother who won't survive if her thumb hurts.

Every step of the way home, the bad thoughts that my thumb held for a while fell off like footprints.

‘I'll take care of it later. ’

What would my mother look like when she became a Hoho grandmother?

I wish I had one.

The thumb trembled and moved home.

* * *

1998, Nudelle, South Africa.

After I dragged all the smoked cigarettes on the floor, I turned them off.

“I move to the truck. ”

Enzo opens his mouth to the hymn with a hard face.

“They don't run, they have knives, they're all trying to bind us here, so this time we're moving. ”

To where?

Kang Chan asked the question with his eyes.

I thought Enzo would understand enough.

“I didn't expect this to happen, so maybe the next enemy will try to get rid of us. ”

Damn it! It's more accurate than asking questions with your eyes.

“Where to?”

“Leave that to me. ”

Enzo was clearly setting a destination.

“I can't drive. ”

“Trust me. ”

Kang Chan gazed at Enzo's leg.

You never seem to be able to drive.

When he heard his gaze again, he had the same intense gaze as he had seen the first day.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

“That's not it! You need to take your left foot off! ”

Oh, shit!

Kang Chan started again.

Drag-and-drop! Bourgh!

“Here you go! Step on your right foot! ”

Pour it!

“I'm going to take my left foot off! ”

Scream! Scream! Ducky!

Whenever the truck popped out, his neck snapped roughly back and forth.

“Step on the left pedal again! ”

Oh, my God!

It was after Enzo transmitted the gear.

Bourgh!

The truck was moving more gently.

“Yes! Step on it! ”

The speed went up, and when Enzo stepped on the left pedal, he changed gears again.

“Let's go!”

Running through dark African soil, Enzo felt better.

Moonlight is really bright.

If you don't turn on the light, the front will look like this.

* * *

Abdul Jonele looks back at his men with a grim expression.

“Didn't I tell you to surround yourself? Bring me your neck if you get a chance! Did I say anything else? ”

A panicked man crosses his head.

Abdul Johnelle, who grabbed an old handkerchief, was a man who could pull the trigger with a rifle at any time.

“It was the two of them! Sixty people who went to surround it were all killed! There was a line in front of the machine gun, or in front of the RPG, but it wouldn't have stuck together...? ”

“One hit on the head, about 30 meters away, surrounded by rounds, and a few of them rushed in and pierced the forehead. ”

Kwaaang!

Abdul Janelle lowers her desk roughly.

“Sneaky intelligence! Find them! Find them now! You can kill them, so come find them! ”

And he gave orders to his subordinates in the voice of evil.

Hudadak!

“Machine gun! RPG! Take them all! Go get his branches in front of me! ”

Abdul Jhonele continues to shout at the back of outstanding men.

After the noise of his men shouting, the sound of the truck starting was heard chaotically.

“If France comes out like this to the end, I have no choice but to change my mind. I will teach you that you are not the only ones who want Nudley's eyes. ”

Turning his head, he lifts up the radio transmitter.

“This is a farm. This is a farm. Cargo is ready. Say it again. Cargo is ready.”

After turning on the switch and turning the channel, he was passing the horse to the transmitter with a nice, sunken voice.

* * *

Pierre Laon jumps down to the basement and hangs his headset on his head.

“The radio confirms that Abdul Johnelle has secured the goods. The receiving party has not been verified yet. ”

[Ask one last time. Has the Intelligence Service conducted an operation separately?]

“If it's about recruits, it's never going to happen. ”

The other person did not speak for a moment.

The silence of the General Intelligence Service is alarming.

For the glory of France, they had the power and the ability to wipe out an intelligence office in South Africa at any time.

[Where are the rest of the crew?]

“I am concerned about the collision with Abdul Janelle, and I am not yet in search. If you'll excuse me, I'll put the troops on standby immediately. ”

What the hell is going on tonight!

While reporting, Pierre Laon had difficulty trimming his mind.

The other person said nothing again.

According to his decision, Pierre Laon, of course, and everyone involved here can be found dead tomorrow morning.

Run away?

If you want your wife and children to meet the robber and be found with a wretched torn corpse, then parents, brothers.

[Dispatch rescue team. Avoid engaging Abdul Janelle and rescue the two crew members. And let's find headquarters again.]

“Got it.”

Pierre Laon turns his index finger in front of his face, and one of his subordinates rushes out of the basement.

“Whoo.”

Pierre Laon takes a long breath.

I saw the report. A young Oriental man. A simple applicant for an expatriate unit who does not have a passport, identity or anything related to it.

Then, of course, he saved Enzo, and he survived against 60 hostiles, then disappeared from the scene.

One at a time, it all went through his head.

Did the god of death even enter his body?

Pierre Laon wanted to smoke.

With coffee.