God of Blackfield

It was a bar where chatty guests kept their mouths shut and watched.

Yonke saw him come in here, and of course he chased him, so the Orientals were in front of him.

However, he was brave enough to handle it.

If you were on the same street earlier, you would have pointed at women and pushed them against the wall, but this is nothing to say, and that doesn't make any sense.

There was a crowd of gaze on the Daleiro, who was standing in the middle, and the Oriental who sat at the table in front of him and turned his gaze.

“Stand up.”

He threw a horse in the Arabic language, which he dealt with.

“I'll give you the money for the women I met outside. ”

Then he rubbed his thumb, index finger, and stop in front of his eyes.

When the Orientals looked left and right, someone handed over French.

It was like he told me what Daeyeru said.

You son of a bitch!

The poison came into the eyes of Dayeru.

It was because an Oriental man was laughing in a funny way.

Come on! Let's see how strong it is!

When you meet an opponent who feels scared, the calculation is always ahead of you. So it's best for someone to run when the rope of reason is broken, as it is now.

“Waaah!”

Daeyeru ran roughly with a shout.

Whip!

And swung a fist bigger than a hammer.

Taaak!?

His right hand was pushed.

Puck! Puck!

‘Son of a bitch! You were carrying a weapon! ’

A stunning pain stabbed his elbows and armpits into his fangs dug into his brain.

Phew! Quzac!

He was then strangled, and there was a heavy shock between his left ear and jaw, as if struck with a hammer.

Quada Faction!

He shook his head right on the floor, brushing his head.

You coward!

Why don't you just sit there pretending you don't know and take out the fangs?

I touched my right armpit with my left hand.

I should have bled.

The Oriental man who looked down at D'Yeru turned his gaze and spoke French. I didn't understand it, but I knew it was perfect and fluent French.

“Shuffle.”

Doyers slowly aroused a body.

Then he turned his right arm and snapped his neck left and right.

“Phuhhhh.”

When the poison came into my eyes, the Eastern man was not so scared.... Dayeru's thoughts were cut off.

Unlike so far, the eyes of the Oriental man have become more blurry.

It was a situation where there was no need to talk.

Warlock!

Daeyero stared at his neck and ran.

I'll break it for you in one go!

If you can stand a dizzy fist, so grab your head!

Puck! Puck! Puebuck!

The neck and cheeks were blocked, the sides were puffy, and the left ear and chin seemed to break out.

What is this?

Purebuck! Purebuck!?

While he was not breathing, the impact seemed to hit his side again with an iron hammer.

Kwazak! Kwazak!

Terrible pain continued as if the left cheek and jaw had been broken.

Kwazak! Kwazak!

The stars keep popping out of the shimmering world.

It was my first time. I didn't see any opponents hitting me.

I can't swing my fist once and it fits like this.

And the one who keeps hitting so brutally.

It was time for Dayeru's body to bend forward.

Pueblo!

Something pointed at my neck.

"Argh!"

Qazazac!

My chin and nose froze and rang, and my head snapped backwards.

Quada Party!

And it was sprayed on the floor without any bubbles.

“Argh! Argh! ”

You son of a bitch! If you hit a man like this, you'll kill him.

D'Yerou caused a dizzy body.

I knew this would happen. I thought he'd be this scary.

“Argh! Argh! Huuuuuuuuu! ”

After taking a bad breath, Daeyeru shook his head and lifted up his torso.

“Shuffle.”

And I got up hard.

What did the Oriental man say again in French? No one answered. It was probably because of what I said to DaeYeru, I felt like they weren't telling me.

“Spit!”

Darjeru, who spits dead blood in his mouth, turns to the Oriental man.

Look at this guy?

I felt the meaning of the Eastern man laughing at my head.

“Because I am Abdul Karim Azar of Daheru. Head of the Algerian Patriarchate of Excel Moon. The neck of the six men who killed my mother and sister, and the warrior who cut it off. So let's end this today. ”

An Oriental man was staring straight into the eyes of Daeyero.

Warlock!

Puck! Puck! Purebuck! Kwazak! Kwazak! Puck! Puck!

It was also difficult to know where and how it fits.

His eyes were turned upside down by the pain that seemed to tear his chin, neck, cheeks, thighs, flanks, and armpits, and then he lost his mind.

It was strange.

When I think about dying like this, I say to myself, "I'm alive! ’It creates an absurd sense of relief.

I had to endure.

When he falls, that Oriental man stops the media.

It's a filthy, big, strong-born body, so you don't die of dizziness, so you have to hold on like a bad boy.

"Turn it off!"

Doyers leaned forward one way or another.

I just didn't want to die.

I told you! You can't strangle a man with a knife that doesn't take a punch.

Puck! Puck! Puck! Kwazak!

Even if you want to die, you won't give up until the end!

Ahhh!

It was shortly after Daeyeru defeated the dreadful medium and leaned forward.

Qazazac!

A thrilling shock was reported on the jaw, and at the same time the star flashed, and the body slowly moved back.

Quada Party!

I didn't even feel sick when I fell on the floor.

“Fuchch.”

You son of a bitch! You're so strong.

Daheru Abdul Karim Azar met the right person today.

It had to happen.

I've never been beaten like this, but after a day of suffering, I couldn't fall like this.

Kill that son of a bitch, leave today's fight a legend, or get hit by a guy with eyes that twinkle enough to hate to look at.

“Shuffle.”

Dayero held back his puffy arms and raised his torso.

Wait a minute. I'll be there.

If those six bastards I killed are there, tell them I'm coming.

“Argh!”

He raises his body, screaming like a madman.

“Phuhhhh.”

I got a laugh.

Honestly, I was afraid to run.

I think I'm really going to die if I run this time, but I've been hoping for it all along.

By the way, what the hell is he doing?

Doyers slowly turned around.

Feeding.

An Oriental man smiled offensively again.

You son of a bitch!

Is that how people laugh at it when they're so brave?

“Waaaaah!”

Warlock!

“Huff!”

I was strangled right when I ran out screaming.

Wheezing.

It was the moment my body was bent forward.

Boom!

The Oriental man grabbed the back of his shirt, and instead, the button on the front of the shirt tightens his neck.

After all, you're here too!

It's hard for the last one to survive.

If you sympathize like this, it's the only thing left on this floor that becomes a corpse.

It was a bad time for Daeyeru to look at the knee of an Eastern man.

Pueblo!

"Ugh!"

Again, a terrible pain dug through his throat.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Pueblo!

Hey, you son of a bitch!

You can't die if you hit him like that!

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Pueblo!

"Turn it off!"

I don't know how my fists dig bones like this! Hit me where I'm gonna die!

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Pueblo!

"Turn it off!"

It was a terrible medium.

It hurt like a broken cervical bone, but the consciousness remained intact!

His eyes turned all over, and at a short moment, he saw his mother, who bore him with a blushing face.

‘Argh! Argh! Khhhhhh!’

It was when I forcefully swallowed up the sound of crying.

The medium that struck his neck like a lie stopped.

Furry!

I wonder if the Orientals let their hands go, and their bodies fell down.

Chelperduck!

It was then kneaded on the floor.

“Phuhhh. Phuhhh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. ”

I tried to laugh, but I kept crying.

“Argh! Argh! Ahhhhh!”

Dayero cried like a bull.

I really didn't want to live like this.

“Argh!”

I wanted to be a merchant and live in a frying pan full of lamb.

But why?

You don't want to die anymore!

You son of a bitch! Oriental bastards!

It was when Daeyeru lifted his head and saw the Oriental.

He was still standing there looking down at the slippery D'Yeru.

When he threw a short French word, someone asked him an answer containing the name ‘D'Yeru’.

“Hu!”

I wiped my tears with the back of my arm and took a breath to spit out blood and spit.

“Dayeru.”

An Oriental man opened his mouth for the first time.

With his head raised, Daeyero sighed loudly.

This massive, poisonous, stubborn, tenacious man cried like a child. If I was like the others, I'd already lost my mind and got beaten to death.

You wanted to die, didn't you?

You tried to rob me of what you were running into, didn't you? Because you think that's what happens when you die?

Ow! You son of a bitch!

Just a big bear!

You son of a bitch, you're not gonna have a passport, you're gonna kill people, and you're not gonna do a lot of what you've done.

‘Alas! What medal will remain in my blessing? ’

Shahran's head was stiffened, but Kang Hyeong looked at the Arab man who turned his head and spoke to him.

“Ask this son of a bitch if he can follow me now. They usually die within 48 hours on the way. ”

The man looks surprised, and then he buzzes like he's crazy.

“Tell me you're almost dead in 72 hours, even if you live 48 hours. ”

A man spoke in Arabic again.

Fiesta!

When I looked down at Daejeru, the hymn stopped laughing.

I saw hope in the face of a man with tears, blood, and snot.

Ah, filthy bastard.

“Get up.”

When the man who heard the hymn spoke in Arabic, Daeyeru forced him to stir up.

“Do you have any luggage? ”

I heard Arabic, and D'Yeru crossed my head just once.

How would you have wished this son of a bitch were Korean?

You two can kill each other and share a bag of coffee.

“I'm telling you again. You're dead in 48 hours. ”

It was the moment when the man was talking in Arabic and the hymn was about to go behind his back.

“Niranzava (????). ”

As if the drunkard can't roll his tongue properly, D'Yeru talks to him.

“Go ahead. I want to go right away. ”

Kang Chan smiled and turned around and put the beer value on the table.

“Let's go.”

Then I walked towards the door.

The guests swiftly turned left and right, and walked behind the auditorium, stumbling.

It was the moment when Algerian Patriarch Abdul Carrim Azar left Excel Moon Street along the God-of-Blackfield.

* * *

Miguel was head of the French Central African Intelligence Service lost. For him, Shahran and the hymn were never negligible.

The order goes down through the French, of course, but the story is completely different here in Africa.

It was about to give Europe and Africa a spin on the economy. So the success and failure of the operation here will directly affect France, and the influence of the Fresh of Blackfield on it is also negligible.

Anyway, Miguel holds the phone frowning.

“Shahran. He killed six tribesmen and fled. He doesn't have a passport. How do you get an Algerian who doesn't have any qualifications for foreign service besides being alive? ”

[Chaney will return the medal.]

“I know what a medal is! Only three medals have been returned by that damn old commander! Even so, I can't help that Algerian! ”

[Very well. That's what I'll tell you.]

“Huuuu. Wait. Where's the God-of-Black Field now? ”

[I'm at the training center. If you refuse…….]

Miguel lifts his eyes and looks at the schedule.

One Congolese tribal rebel needs to be resolved within the month.

“Shahran. You know that. The selection criteria for foreign troops have changed. The passport, of course, had to be verified to make it possible. ”

[Chaney wants the Intelligence Service to take care of her.]

Miguel frowned as he was impressed and said, "Yup.” I swallowed the groaning that I was doing.

Gods of Blackfield has already had three years of combat experience.

Besides, he's the old commander of the 13th Regiment Special Forces, and he has the right to refuse nine operations in the future.

Which of the two would be easier without him solving the Congolese tribal insurgency and creating a new identity for the ridiculous Algerian?

Miguel shook his fist less tightly and opened his mouth to the phone.

“All right. I'll call the training camp now, so tell the Gods of Blackfield to come back. ”

[Copy that.]

Miguel drops his phone down and presses the fury that bursts out of his schedule.

Given the dazzling achievements of the French Intelligence Service across Africa right now, it's no big deal, considering that it's all based on the tremendous work of the Fresh of Blackfields.

“Whoo.”

Miguel takes a deep breath.

It was necessary to take steps to ensure that the medal would never go down again.