God of Blackfield

Kang Chan estimated the speed their truck was moving before they got ambushed. Based on his calculations, it seemed to have been moving at a similar speed to running at a moderate pace. If so, then it would take him forty to fifty minutes to cover the same distance at a normal pace, and with Enzo on his back, he’d require at least an hour and a half to two hours.

Son of a bitch!

The sun was just now reaching the top of his head, scorching the tips of his hair.

A pungent odor wafted up from Enzo’s legs.

Sweat clung to his back where Enzo was touching him. Enzo’s raspy breathing brushed against his nape too.

Click. Click.

The clatter of rifles, magazines, and bayonets was more distinct than his boots on the ground.

That noon, a mass of shadows clung to his boots, trampling them with each step he took.

Click.

Motherfuckers.

Enzo was right. Crazy bastards with long, scary-looking bayonets and guns slung over their shoulders were following them.

They had spread out in a semicircle and assumed a low stance, ready to drop to the ground.

How many could Kang Chan kill if he opened fire now?

Kang Chan stood motionless for a moment. He had Enzo on his back, a rifle around his neck, a long curved bayonet in his right hand, and enemies with AKs slung over their shoulders just behind him.

It was like a horror movie version of the game “When Mugunghwa Flowers Bloom.”

If Kang Chan turned around and kept walking, the enemies could sneak up behind him and slice his head off. If he turned around and pulled the trigger, he could blow up their heads instead.

There were about twenty of them, making it hard for Kang Chan to resort to guns. They were a hundred meters away right now. If he started shooting them one by one, they could return fire and end them.

He had to find a way to kill them all at once or find a place to hide.

If the situation was already this dire in Point Alpha, then it would be nonsensical for them to hide at Point Bravo. The headquarters had seemed safe enough to not set up a perimeter, so it was best to head there for now.

Kang Chan was worried about Enzo too, whose breathing had grown fainter.

The odor coming from his legs was more nauseating than the foul, disgusting smell of Ndulele.

For now, Kang Chan would go as far as he could. He would attack with his life on the line once their enemies had narrowed the gap to fifty meters.

Click, click.

Enzo was like an injured lion surrounded by hyenas and Kang Chan a lion cub protecting him.

Fucking hell! I said I wanted to see lions or hyenas, not roleplay them!

How did things end up this way?

Kang Chan never imagined that a world like this existed on one part of Earth.

He missed asphalt. He missed sidewalks, buildings, streets, the bodegas on the streets, cars newer than GM’s old trucks, and people wearing clothes with red or yellow—anything with color, really.

Click, click.

His shoulder felt like it was being ripped apart.

Noticing Enzo’s hold on him weakening, Kang Chan raised his left hand and gripped Enzo’s right wrist tightly.

This wasn't good.

Click.

Kang Chan stopped walking and looked back. The enemies were about eighty meters away now, still crouched low and glaring at him.

Swish! Rustle!

Kang Chan reached out with his right hand to untie Enzo’s bootlaces, but the enemies didn’t budge. After putting the laces in his left hand, Kang Chan used them to tie Enzo’s wrists together.

“Enzo.”

“Did you finally… decide to abandon me?”

Ha! Pretending to be cool with that weakass voice.

“Two things. Why didn’t the enemy attack the headquarters first, and why are they following us right now?”

“The smell… Haaa…”

He keeps talking about the damned smell! I know, I can smell it from the ground and your legs hanging from the rifles!

“They have… on their hill. The commanders don’t want to take… Haaa… But… steal… pretending to…. give a fuck… by sacrificing soldiers…”

What the hell is he talking about?

Kang Chan couldn’t understand half of what Enzo was mumbling.

“What do we do when we return to the headquarters?”

“There’s a machine gun… and a radio… in my… tent…”

Kang Chan saw the enemies look at each other. He also noticed their long bayonets glinting in the sun.

He took out a magazine from the rifle hanging around his neck. Afterward, he replaced it with a new magazine from around his waist and pulled the breechblock.

The enemies bent their knees and gripped the ground with their hands. Kang Chan had to wait until they were about thirty meters closer before he could attack.

This was the beginning of a high-stakes “When Mugunghwa Flowers Bloom.”

Click, click.

Kang Chan walked for about five more minutes.

The Mugunghwa flower[1] has bloomed!

Kang Chan whipped around, and the enemies lowered their stance and stopped moving. Only seventy meters stood between them now.

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!

One by one, Kang Chan cataloged their spread-out positions and started walking again.

The shadows gathered perfectly under the soles of his feet.

He could feel Enzo’s breathing getting weaker and the pain in his shoulder becoming worse. Kang Chan’s throat was so dry that he wanted to abandon Enzo now.

Kang Chan hadn’t felt any camaraderie with any of the other soldiers whom he had spent the last six months with. Now, under the African heat, he was carrying someone who had bummed two cigarettes from him.

The Mugunghwa flower has bloomed!

Kang Chan looked over his shoulder. His enemies had covered another ten meters.

The bastards didn’t even lower their stances anymore, making it clear that they were ready to pounce. With no obstacles in between them, he had no trouble reading their expressions from sixty meters away.

If they became confident enough to dash forward and slit Kang Chan and Enzo’s throats, they would do it. It was a stupid, ignorant, and dirty way to go about it.

He couldn’t understand why they had to risk their lives to follow him like this when they could have just shot them.

The damn Mugunghwa flower would bloom once the enemies narrowed the distance by another ten minutes. Once it did, he would have to them if they were all going to fall down or not.

“Haaa.”

The dirt and foul odor tangled in his parched mouth, making it hard to swallow.

Click, click.

Now, it felt like his spine was being crushed too.

“Kang Channy.”

“Oui.”

“Put me… down… and use me as a shield,” Enzo mumbled. He sounded sleepy—drowsy. “And… Haa… Live.”

“Enzo.”

“Oui…”

Click, click.

The Mugunghwa flower has bloomed!

Kang Chan turned around, finding the enemies only fifty meters away from them. If they could run a hundred in ten seconds, then they would reach Kang Chan and Enzo in five. If they ran a hundred in fourteen, then they would need seven.

To survive, Kang Chan had to blow twenty people’s heads off in seven seconds and hope the bayonet-wielding lunatics didn’t start shooting.

“Cigarette?” Kang Chan asked.

Enzo didn’t reply.

Kang Chan reached into his top pocket and pulled out two cigarettes.

The enemies were watching him. Kang Chan wondered how he was affording this relaxed composure. However, when he thought that he was about to die anyway, he couldn’t help but crave cigarettes.

It was sad that he didn’t miss his mom, dad, friends, or anyone else for that matter. Now he knew how melancholic it was to face the end of his life without longing to see anyone.

Kang Chan swallowed the sadness and frustration and put two cigarettes in his mouth.

Clunk! Chk! Chhk!

“Hoo!”

Grabbing a lit cigarette with his left hand and passing it behind him, Kang Chan took a deep drag on the other one he had been biting.

Cowardice was the worst thing in the world for Kang Chan. He hated pushing people around by force. Otherwise, he would’ve just run around with the bastards who had dropped out of school and lived off the money they’d stolen from other students.

Enzo moved his mouth to take the cigarette but accidentally put Kang Chan’s finger in his mouth too.

Shit! My life has to end with such fucking dirty experiences.

“Hoo!”

The enemies exchanged another glance, seemingly finding Kang Chan’s demeanor suspicious. Every time they moved, their bayonets threw sharp flashes of sunlight at him.

Kang Chan took another long drag on his cigarette. He had been holding this stick in his mouth since the beginning, never touching it.

Tat!

The cigarette he put in Enzo’s mouth fell next to Kang Chan’s right leg.

The smoke from the half-burnt cigarette wafted up Kang Chan’s nose and stung his eyes, but he didn’t care. Watching twenty people spread out in a crescent formation, their bayonets glinting in the sun…

Fuck this shit.

Kang Chan never asked to be a trust fund baby. He never wanted a congressman for a father or a university professor for a mother. If only they had patted him on the shoulder even if they were poor, even if things were hard…

Kang Chan spat out the cigarette in his mouth. “Ptooey!”

Fifty meters. Five to seven seconds.

Click.

Kang Chan grabbed his rifle, and the enemies ducked low.

The heat from the ground rose like a heat wave, and the lion cub glared at the hyenas.

Haah. Haah.

He could hear his breathing. More importantly, he could see the heads of his enemies better now.

He wanted to kill them with only a painless bullet each. The bastards before him were also only doing this shit because someone had told them to. Neither Kang Chan nor his enemies had personal grudges against each other.

If he had to kill and be killed on orders, he at least wanted it to be painless and done with just one bullet.

Haah. Haah.

Listening to his breathing, Kang Chan gritted his teeth.

Just then, the enemies charged all at once.

Their clanking rifles and their pounding steps all seemed to be moving in slow motion, making it seem unrealistic to him.

Click! Bang!

Kang Chan blew off the head of the enemy at the very right. He then continued to fire at them, sweeping his gun to the left.

Crazy motherfuckers!

Bang! Thud! Bang! Thud! Bang! Thud!

Those who had their heads blown off fell backward, the impact pushing them away. The rest continued to charge at him.

Bang! Thud! Bang! Thud!

He only had fifteen meters of distance left.

If Kang Chan extended his arm, he’d cut it down to fourteen meters, and if he counted the length of the bayonets, it would be another meter less.

Baang! Thud! Baang! Thud!

Ten meters.

Kang Chan now had a clear view of their sunken faces and eyes, their dirty necks exposed through their loose tops, and the sharp blades of their glinting bayonets.

Bang! Thud! Bang! Thud!

“Allahu Akbar!”

Bang! Thud! Bang! Thud!

One of them lunged forward, making it seem as if the space between them had shrunk.

Swish!

Kang Chan didn’t even have time to pull the trigger.

Clang!

The blade slammed into Kang Chan’s moving rifle.

Crash!

The enemy rushed at Kang Chan, and they fell to the ground together. Kang Chan didn’t have the mind to worry about Enzo.

Red, bloodshot eyes; ragged breathing; and the odor of an unwashed body!

Using his left hand, Kang Chan gripped the right hand of the enemy and twisted it. He then grabbed his left hand, which was squeezing his neck, with his right hand.

Argh!

A scream escaped from his bony enemy’s dry lips. “Aaaaaaah!”

The moment Kang Chan let go of this wrist, his head would roll on the ground.

Fortunately, Enzo was behind him like a backrest, so Kang Chan’s upper body wasn’t completely stretched back.

“Argh!”

The enemy exhibited great force as his left hand dug into Kang Chan’s throat. No matter how hard Kang Chan twisted his wrist, he refused to let go.

“Kragh!” the enemy shrieked and put his weight on his right hand.

Pinned down, Kang Chan became limited to keeping the enemy at bay with his left hand.

When the enemy jerked his wrist downward, the gleaming blade landed near Kang Chan’s ear.

You motherfucker! You should’ve shot me to death instead! Why the hell did you have to force us into this situation?!

This time, it was Kang Chan who roared. “Aaaaaaggh!”

1. The Rose of Sharon is South Korea's national flower ☜