“Kekeke!” Sun WooHyun cracked up, unable to hold back his laughter. The butler was an amazing person for calling Black Mamba a damn b*stard. On the other hand, it felt refreshing. A regular citizen must have felt this way when they watched a powerful person get chewed out as a criminal.

  “There is such a human. He is dull to the point that you would want to beat him up, but he’s not a damn b*stard. You should watch what you say about my master.”


  Master?

  Barongo’s heart lurched. Azrael’s warrior was a fearsome person who had decisively wiped out 50 armed guards and whipped a noble.

  Two humans who used to swing their absolute power around were currently twitching like a caterpillar by his feet. How fearsome could his master be when the individual standing before him was already inhumane?

  “I take back my words.”


  “Hehe. A man who doesn’t understand the hearts of women is worth cursing at, for sure. Are there any other traitors that I need to take care of aside from the guards and vigilantes?”


  His words reeked of bloodlust and iron. He looked like he would kill all the betrayers. Barongo glanced at the eastern man who kept on talking with an accent, then quickly lowered his head. His face was scary. There were horizontal knife scars across his face with holes like volcanic craters.

  Tubilis!

  He hurriedly swallowed his thoughts, which had almost popped out of his mouth and stepped back.

  “All the traitors became vigilantes. That organization is the gathering place for all the trash that has betrayed my master for a few bucks. The guards were outsourced, hired by the small master. They’re rumored to be the remaining butchers from the FROLINAT’s FAP.”


  Sun WooHyun smiled in condescendence.

  “Do you think all those murderers committed suicide by Pende Lake? Those b*stards are nothing but trash to me. The labor overseers were the guards and vigilantes, weren’t they?”


  “Yes, the workers couldn’t say a thing because those pieces of trash had threatened them with knives and guns. The workers are missing their benevolent master and waiting for the lady’s return.”


  Sun WooHyun silently laughed. That was impossible. Ten percent of an organization came from the immediate bandwagon, 80 percent out of self-preservation, and 10 percent from loyalty. Nick’s remaining cells had to be all over the place.

  “I’ll look into the details later. So, you’re saying there isn’t a problem with controlling the workers, right?”


  “Who would dare fight against you when you’ve crushed the guards and vigilantes, Sir Warrior?”


  The butler suddenly kicked Enduma, who was barely breathing.

  “This b*stard’s the one who had started the revolt with the small master. He’s the person who had nailed our master on the cross. Please give us your benevolence to handle him ourselves.” Barongo’s eyes flashed dangerously with a hint of bloodlust.

  Did this old man get contaminated by a violent disease?

  Sun WooHyun’s mood turned sour. A difficult situation could occur if the violent disease kept spreading.

  “I can’t allow that. Only my master and Miss Edel have the right to take care of those b*stards. If they die, you will be held responsible.”


  “Yes, I understand.”


  The butler moved away with a disappointed face.

  “Sir Warrior, what should we do about today’s work?”


  Huh! Work?

  Sun WooHyun realized that there was an annoying second round of work to be done. Restating orders was harder compared to killing and breaking. The really difficult work had just begun.

  “Butler Barongo, do you know how many full-time workers are there on Samaria Farm?”


  “There are about 2,000 of them. A thousand three hundred eighty workers live and work on the farm, while 620 of them are nonnatives. Most of the workers live outside the farm after marriage. We also hire more temporary workers according to the workload, a minimum of 500 and 1,800 at the most.”


  “What? So you’re saying there are over 3,800 people working on the farm, right?”


  “Yes, it’s currently harvesting season, so we’ve added another 2,000 foreign laborers on the job.”


  “Ha!”


  Sun WooHyun’s mouth fell open.

  This was unimaginable. It would take some time for him to get used to it.

  Samaria Farm’s scale was beyond his imagination. Three thousand eight hundred workers had impacted him more than the scale of 900,000,000 pyung.

  “Butler, gather all the farmworkers to the grass field.”


  “Yes, I understand.”


  The butler picked up the megaphone.

  The large grass field outside the house was filled with people by sunrise.

  “Sir Warrior, 1,360 have gathered out of the 1,380. Twenty of them are either injured or unable to move.”


  “Unable to move?”


  “They are the workers who are now unable to move after being beaten up by the vigilantes.”


  Sun WooHyun nodded without saying a word. There was no reason to ask. Sun WooHyun had suppressed them with force after all. This was the land of barbarians where only the strongest survived.

  “Let’s go!”


  A satisfied smile landed on Sun WooHyun’s face. The quick-witted butler had made a platform on the grass using a packaging box. Sun WooHyun’s small height was always a handicap. Sun WooHyun was more envious of Black Mamba’s height than his handsome face. He found the butler endearing.

  Most of Chad’s cotton farms were plantations. They were operated by a European farm owner who hired locals. The locals were tortured with poor working conditions and harsh labor. The local workers were no less than slaves. There were no human rights to be seen.

  Under Nick’s power, Samaria Farm had been more brutal. The gathering had begun once the morning dew disappeared. There had been no lunch or break time. Shouts and whipping had rained down every time someone tried to stretch. The labor had ended only when the darkness fell.

  The workers who were starved all day and exploited for labor ate a lump of ugali[1] and fell asleep like the dead.

  Samaria Farm was too large. Workers whose homes were near the battle woke in fear of the gunshots, but many weren’t aware of the chaos that had happened during the dawn. The workers who had gathered on the field were chattering everywhere, exchanging information. There was nothing like a morning frog call.

  Sun WooHyun was overwhelmed by the dark sea of people on the platform. He couldn’t bear them all. He tentatively began to blame Wakil for his predicament.

  “Be quiet!”


  Sun WooHyun’s warning was buried underneath all the voices.

  Damn it, the cliffs shook, and the ground trembled when Wakil shouted. I’m nothing compared to him.

  Bang, bang, bang—


  When exhaustion caught up with him, the gunshots rang. The chattering stopped. Sun WooHyun turned to look at the butler. The butler was holding up a Lee-Enfield. Smoke was coming out of its barrel, which was pointed towards the sky. The butler smiled.

  Was this the second version of Ombuti?

  Sun WooHyun nodded. The butler held strong grudges and was quick-witted. He had also gone overboard. The actions he had taken until now were exactly like Ombuti’s.

  Sun WooHyun gathered strength in his lower belly and shouted with pauses in between words, “Silence! I am Azrael’s warrior. All the guards and vigilantes were killed by my hands. I shoved the false farm owner, Nick, and the head of guards, Enduma, into prison.”


  “Huh!”


  “Whoo!”


  Surprised, the workers began to chatter once more. They couldn’t believe that the farm owner and the head of guards were imprisoned. They couldn’t believe that those evil b*stards were all dead. Their voices grew louder.

  Sun WooHyun flapped his hand at the butler. The butler immediately handed him the Lee-Enfield.

  Bang—


  Bang—


  The voices stopped.

  “Silence! Those little sh*ts who open their traps from now on—”


  Sun WooHyun raised the gun in the air and bashed it with the side of his hand.

  Crack—


  The head of the Lee-Enfield and its connective parts fell apart in half.

  “I’ll turn you into this.”


  A frightening silence pressed the field.

  Sun WooHyun raised his voice.

  “As you all know, Nick Wayneright Edel is an evil man who killed his brother and stole the farm. I was ordered by Wakil to disorganize and kill his evil dogs and capture him. This was also by the request of Miss Edel. Miss Edel is currently acting out on a separate task as per Wakil’s request.”


  “Yeah! We’re free!”


  “The missis is alive!” the workers shouted.

  “Who is your master, Sir Warrior?” one of the workers bravely asked.

  “My master is someone called Azrael. The FROLINAT’s FAP calls my master the Kanma.”


  “Woah, the Azrael!”


  “The Kanma, Kanma!”


  The workers began to murmur. Sun WooHyun was confused. How could they have known Black Mamba?

  “Sir Warrior, we are all Christians. There is no one here who doesn’t know of Azrael’s fame. He killed all the Islam FAP rebels like rats.”


  Butler Barongo raised both of his hands in the air and began leading the chant.

  “Hallelujah!”


  “Hallelujah!”


  The workers shouted back as one.

  “God has sent us Azrael to save his tortured young sheep. We sing for his Grace to be upon us! Hallelujah!”


  “Hallelujah!”


  “Azrael is our shepherd! Hallelujah!”


  “Hallelujah!”


  “We trust Azrael’s servant as we trust him. Hallelujah!”


  “We trust him! Hallelujah!”


  Dawn was upon them. Hallelujahs filled the Samaria Farm out of nowhere.

  What the hell was this!?

  Flabbergasted, Sun WooHyun stared at Barongo blankly. He was an old man who could steam those communist leaders for a meal. He had moved the workers at an opportune time. He had made Black Mamba their leader when he wasn’t present and had given him the power.

  Barongo raised his hands once more. Sun WooHyun was scared of the old man’s capabilities.

  “Brothers, the farm owner, Nick, and the head of guards, Enduma—the devils who have worked us to death and starved us—are now imprisoned. Azrael has taken back those evil men’s power!”


  “He has taken it all!”


  “Azrael has sent us God’s warrior to save our poor lambs!”


  “He was sent!”


  There couldn’t be a better cult. When Barongo led the chant, hundreds and thousands of workers shouted back as one.

  Were all Africans this smart?

  The butler had a reflex and situational understanding that was comparable to Ombuti. Sun WooHyun began to worry. He felt as though he would be second to Barongo, as he was second to Ombuti.

  What the hell? Wakil was fated to be a fortune teller after all, whether he liked it or not.

  Sun WooHyun snorted. He remembered Jang Shin, who had once said that money would come by itself once Black Mamba wore a turban.

  Muslims called the Angel of Death, Azrael (Az-ra-il), while Christians called it, Azrael (Az-ra-elle). Whatever the name, Black Mamba became an icon to both Muslims and Christians.

  “Damn it. I suppose a human has to be perfect, first and foremost,” he thought.

  He suddenly became sad. While one guy had earned followers a million miles away, some guy had to sweat blood and tears throughout the night, sweating over the control of workers.

  “What should we call you, Sir Warrior?” the butler asked.

  “Tubilis, no, call me Namir.”


  Sun WooHyun’s “I’m a dragon” illness was acting up again.

  “Azrael’s warrior is called Sir Namir. Hoorah for Sir Namir!” the butler shouted.

  “Hoorah!”


  It was a communist-style forewarned propaganda. The more it progressed, the more ridiculous it became. The butler laid down the cushions before he could even start.

  Was that butler a comrade politician who was trained in North Korea?

  He truly began to doubt the man.

  Ugh, whatever.

  Sun WooHyun raised both of his hands. The crowd turned silent immediately.

  “I, Namir, became Miss Edel’s representative on the orders of Azrael. Listen to my orders carefully from now on. I will give you all one hour. Create 14 organizations of 100 for each accommodation. Each organization will choose one representative, 11 in total. They will be known as the 10 member council. The 10 member council will then discuss among themselves and choose the Elder. Begin!”


  Sun WooHyun was an intelligent man who had graduated from the Kang-Gun military school. He completely learned the falsities of socialism while being away from North Korea for five years. Socialism could be summarized as “Speak not of the falsity but the truth instead.”


  To ignore reality, they filled the place with illusions instead. In detail, it meant controlling the masses with force and surveillance. Humans weren’t cows or horses. No one could continue living in an illusion when the reality was sh*t.

  Samaria Farm was like a grenade thrown into a campfire. There were many underlying complaints. It wouldn’t be surprising if a rebellion occurred.

  Sun WooHyun decided to upheave the entire past order. In his view, Miss Edel was going to be Wakil’s woman. He had to change the entire farm system that Nick had created for the past seven years to make it Wakil’s farm.

  Workers were impulsive and had never experienced creating a democratic council by themselves. The smart butler had to run back and forth advising people on what to do, drenched in sweat.

  After more time had passed, the 10 member council and the Elder were finally selected.

  “Butler, aren’t they all old people?”


  Sun WooHyun was confused. The 10 member council weren’t healthy, young men but older than middle-aged men.

  “They were threatened by violence and danger for the past seven years. They fear violence,” the quick-witted butler whispered in his ears.

  The butler gathered the 10 member council representatives and the Elder below the platform.

  “Butler, bring the armband.”


  “Yes, sir!”


  It was a red armband with two white lines. He had made it in a hurry with the help of the housemaids and staff.

  Sun WooHyun personally wrapped the band around the member’s left arm. The red armband was one of the many North Korean methods used to control a cell organization. The armband lived up to its use as more people from the crowd became mesmerized.

  [1] An African high-protein maize flour porridge.