Chapter 143: Ningjinanga

Qin Yang felt incredibly frustrated. He had just managed to get the helicopter airborne to make his escape when, in the blink of an eye, he saw a smoking rocket hurtling toward him. Startled, he dove the aircraft into a low-altitude flight while simultaneously cutting one of the ropes that had been binding Walker to the chopper. With a sudden leap, he threw himself out of the cabin. Below, the onlookers stared in disbelief—that was a hundred-meter drop! Yet, Qin Yang was remarkably composed. He gripped the end of the rope and descended rapidly. Suddenly, his body jerked in mid-air; everyone watching realized that the poor captive and the rope Qin Yang held were looped through the helicopter’s landing gear. Even in its brief, final moments of flight, the aircraft was still capable of bearing the weight of both men.

As the helicopter was struck by the rocket, Qin Yang took advantage of the violent shock to release his grip on the rope. He performed a magnificent somersault in the air, landing and immediately rolling to dissipate the momentum. The wretched Walker, however, was sent swinging outward, landing squarely in a patch of mud, his fate uncertain.

"Damn it, he's a lunatic."

Whether it was the international mercenaries or the rebel soldiers, everyone couldn't help but curse under their breath. To come up with such an escape method—a single mistake would have meant certain death.

Boom.

The helicopter crashed, erupting into a fireball on the ground. Qin Yang’s face turned livid with anger. However, as he regained his senses, he found himself surrounded by seven or eight rebel soldiers, all staring at him intently, ready to open fire at the slightest provocation.

"Stop, stop!"

A rebel officer hurried forward. "Don't shoot him! He is not our enemy."

It turned out that the poor wretch Walker had also landed nearby and had been retrieved by the rebels. How could they not recognize Walker? Seeing this, the officer rushed over—the enemy of one's enemy is a friend. If this Chinese man could treat Walker this way, he certainly wasn't an enemy. The officer spoke in English, "My apologies, we thought it was Walker on the helicopter."

"Forget it," Qin Yang waved his hand dismissively. "Where is Walker?"

Two men carried Walker forward. He was clinging to life, barely breathing, which surprised Qin Yang. He pulled a syringe from his kit and injected a dose of medicine into Walker’s body. Walker gave a violent start, followed by a fit of uncontrollable shivering. Qin Yang kicked him in the head, knocking him unconscious.

"Sir, how did you manage to do that?" the officer asked, unable to hide his excitement. Since the civil war broke out, the rebel forces had been routed with lightning speed. Capturing Walker would be a major victory!

"He killed one of my brothers; I’m here for revenge." Qin Yang glanced at the men surrounding him and sneered, "What? Do you want him?"

"Indeed, sir." The officer didn't intend to offer any rewards for Walker; he figured Qin Yang had no choice but to agree. Simply sparing his life was already a generous concession.

"Thousands of Azarias's men couldn't force me to compromise. Do you really think someone who was beaten into having no means of retaliation by Azarias can negotiate terms with me?" Qin Yang mocked.

The officer was startled. "Are you Agassi, the one who led seven thousand of Azarias's men on a three-day chase through the southern jungle?"

"No, he's Ninki Nanka," an adjutant pointed at Qin Yang, trembling with fear.

Qin Yang was momentarily confused. What kind of nicknames were these?

Searching his memory, he quickly understood. Agassi was the name of a legendary "King Cheetah," a creature whose atavism made it look like a saber-toothed tiger, one of the rarest species in the world. But what Qin Yang found truly ridiculous was "Ninki Nanka." In African folklore, the Black Mamba was not the most terrifying creature; there were many mythical beasts, and the Ninki Nanka was one of them.

"Ninki Nanka?" Qin Yang laughed. "Who gave me such an ugly name?"

The international mercenaries across the field went quiet, seemingly debating whether to attack or if the man who had leaped from the helicopter was truly that monster.

The rebel commander cautiously led Qin Yang into a makeshift bunker, taking great care every step of the way. Once Qin Yang was seated, the officer said, "Not long ago, Azarias suddenly mobilized a large force—over seven thousand men—into the southern jungle. According to our intelligence, they were tracking a group of your Chinese compatriots. We tried to use diplomatic pressure to stop Azarias, but he claimed his men were searching for foreign spies who had stolen classified information, insisting there were only three of them, not hostages. We were skeptical, so we sent people to infiltrate the jungle."

"And then?" Qin Yang lit a cigarette and asked.

The officer swallowed hard. "Then? Then our men heard from the rebels that the three people in the jungle were absolute monsters. They could vanish into thin air by day and appear suddenly by night, setting up traps that were the work of demons. Men would die in these traps when they least expected it; they even believed the ones setting them practiced sorcery. Those omnipresent assassinations were filled with an eerie quality. They called them the 'God of Death,' appearing silently behind victims to claim their lives."

Qin Yang sneered.

The traps were naturally the work of his Ghost Soldiers. As for being silent, that was their nature. He didn't even need to set complex traps; even if the enemy discovered them, the Ghost Soldiers would trigger them from the shadows to finish them off.

"Later, Azarias tallied his numbers and found that during those few days, his army was losing over a hundred men every day. He even hired a large group of international mercenaries to infiltrate, but they were routed one after another. Of the three hundred, only a hundred or so made it out—that’s the group across from us now," the officer said, trembling. "Over seven thousand men, thrown into chaos by just three people, with over five hundred casualties. Even Leosse died there. After a series of rumors, the fame of the three of you has spread across the entire African continent in just these four or five days. 'Ninki Nanka' is what you are called. It is a mythical African creature that resembles your Chinese dragon. Since the rumors say you are all Chinese, the name became your moniker—mysterious and powerful."

"That really is a terrible name," Qin Yang scoffed.

The rebel officer asked cautiously, "Sir, how did you catch Walker?"

"I just caught him," Qin Yang glanced at him coldly. "I need to avenge my brother, so I must take Walker with me. Do you have a problem with that?"

The officer was calculating. He suspected Qin Yang was that monster from the jungle, but the skills he had shown jumping from the helicopter proved he was not to be trifled with. Still, he had the numerical advantage, and every one of his men was armed. At most, this Chinese man had a knife, a few pistols, and a Tang sword that couldn't be used effectively in this space. If he could take Walker back, it would be a massive achievement—the ultimate weapon against Azarias.

Qin Yang saw through his intentions and sneered, "I’ll spare your life only because you are an enemy of Azarias. Otherwise, I would have sent your soul to the heavens just now."