A Mercenary's War

Chapter 106

Chapter 106: An Old Acquaintance

Translated by: kevin1782

Edited by: Isalee

Gao Yang had nothing much going on in the house. Almost bored to death, he flipped around the stuff that he had already packed again to see if he had anything left behind.

After flipping the items, Gao Yang actually found some inappropriate stuff for air travel: one of them was his portable knife.

Gao Yang had two arma blancas[1]: an axe and a hunting knife.

The axe was a lucky charm: a protection talisman for him. He was fine with bringing nothing else, but he had to bring his axe. In his heart, the hunting knife was definitely not any less important than the axe.

Gao Yang harbored strong feelings for his hunting knives. He relied on this one after he found it on the plane when the plane had crashed. He killed the first person with it, and without it, he could have died long ago in Sudan. In the three years on the Sudanese grasslands, his hunting knife was always with him at any moment or instance. Whether as a weapon or a tool, they were inseparable.

On the modern battlefield, there were not many instances where a knife could be used. However, a knife, especially a good one, was absolutely indispensable. A knife would be the last weapon for self-defense, and it was one of the most important, useful tools.

Gao Yang's knife was very good, well-crafted, and expensive. However, it was not suitable to deploy it on the battlegrounds.

Although unwillingly, Gao Yang felt that he should still change the knife to a tactical one that was more suited for the battlefield.

Looking at the rough leather sheath that he had sewn and the blade that was already laced with white lines while thinking of what knife to change to, Gao Yang naturally thought of the days he had spent with the hunting knife (and utilizing it) in Sudan. At the very thought that this knife had saved him more than once, Gao Yang naturally recalled the knife’s former owner: that South African white man.

In the few days where he spent time with his parents, Gao Yang’s father mentioned the family situations of the victims that were on the same plane as Gao Yang. Because the crashed aircraft belonged to the hunting company, after the plane crash, none of the families received any substantial compensation. The owner of the hunting company ran at first chance.

The hunting company was founded by a Chinese person. Most of the passengers on the plane were from China. Only the pilots and the South African hunting facilitator were not Chinese. Because of the compensation issue, Gao Yang’s father and the victims’ families left detailed contacts with each other. It was solely to sue that run-away boss together as one.

Due to his complicated and numerous connections with the South African white man, Gao Yang had glanced at his father's address book, memorizing the home address and contact information of the deceased South African white man’s family.

The South African white man’s name was John Smith. A very common British name. The name seemed to have been driven from Britain; it was not Boers, which represented the majority of the white folks in South Africa.

John, or more precisely, whatever was left of his family, lived in Krugersdorp. This was a distant and unfamiliar place to Gao Yang. This was no longer the case. After living in Johannesburg for some time, Gao Yang learned that Krugersdorp was a satellite city of Johannesburg, right in the suburbs of Johannesburg.

It was not wrong to say that Gao Yang was just a stone’s throw away from John's home. Just then, Gao Yang thought of paying John's home a visit to see the survivors of his family.

Although somewhat reluctant, Gao Yang felt that he should probably return the knife John left behind to his family. In a sense, John had saved his life. So Gao Yang felt obligated to see the rest of his family and if possible, express his gratitude to John at his grave.

Gao Yang was the type to quickly translate thoughts into action and he could no longer sit still. Seeing that it was still very early in the day, Gao Yang immediately grabbed his bag and put the knife and the phone inside. Thanks to the poor public safety in Johannesburg, Gao Yang chucked his pistol into his backpack along with all the South African Rands he had. He put in an additional two thousand US dollars after he realized that all the Rands he actually came up with was less than a hundred dollars.

After everything was set, Gao Yang ran to the doorway outside Tribo and Jin Fang’s bedroom and howled, “I’ve something to attend to and I’ve got to run, anyone coming along?”

Tribo immediately scurried out and said excitedly, "I’ll go, I’ll go. What are you up to? I'll go with you."

Jin looked puzzled and asked, "What happened?"

Gao Yang said, "Nothing much, got to go find someone. I don't even know if I can find him so this is more fun than business."

Jin pondered for a moment and immediately said, "You wait for me in Hare’s room. I'll go with you."

Gao Yang did not think much about it. After sitting in Hare’s room for a while, Lee Jin Fang hurried back and said with a sinister smile, “Gao Yang, brother, I'm really sorry, I suddenly have something else going on and I can’t play with you. Hare, you have to stay put too."

 "Ah? Why?"

Jin's straightened his face as he said, "Don’t ask and do as I say. I have some plans for you. Oh right, I want to spar with you, can’t I do that? You’re not heading to the range today anyway, why not take this time to train your close combat skills? Come now, let’s get right on it."

Tribo’s face grew pale with fear. He had always wanted to train with Lee Jin Fang in the arts of melee combat. Tribo never mentioned it ever again though, after seeing the horror that Gao Yang went through. However, he never expected Jin to set his eye on him next.

"No, no. Today’s not the right day, really. Don't forget that I'm a patient. I'm a patient!"

"Sexually transmitted diseases also make you ill? Cut the crap. Allow me to open your eyes to what you are capable of, come along now. Don’t make me."

Looking at Jin with a straight face, Gao Yang could no longer comprehend the situation at hand. Why is he insisting on training Tribo when we agreed to go together? Just as he was still puzzled, he heard Elena’s voice from the other side of the door: "Hey, I'm ready, can I go now?"

Seeing such an elated Elena, Gao Yang and Tribo immediately understood what Jin had done. Tribo said, as tears failed him, "Bastard, I have nothing against you wanting to be a wingman for Elena. I wouldn't have gone if you had asked. Why do you have to find such an absurd excuse? Jin Fang, brother, I understand, really. Now, no more training for me right?”

Jin smiled at Gao Yang and hinted, "Bro Yang, make it quick. People are still waiting for you. Goodbye now and don’t miss me already."

Jin then grabbed Tribo’s back collar and dragged Tribo towards the back door without a word. Unable to resist against Jin’s grip, poor Tribo resigned himself to his fate as he was carried into the backyard.

Elena peered at Jin and Tribo and said, “Yang, didn't you invite me?”

Gao Yang did not hesitate. "Yeah, I’m the one who invited you. They probably didn't want to be extraneous. Forget it, both of us shall do, no need to bother about them."

Elena laughed gleefully as she naturally grabbed Gao Yang's arm and said, "Well, let's get out of here. I haven't been out ever since I arrived here. I’ve been so bored almost to the point of death."

Gao Yang wanted to let go of Elena, but he could not bear to do so. Instead, he silently let her pull on his arm on the way out while he hung his head low.

Gao Yang silently prayed to not be seen by Grolev and Natalia while holding hands with Elena. He peered around nervously and did not find any trace of Natalia. He quickened his pace in an attempt to get out even faster. However, just as he was about to leave the living room, he heard Natalia’s voice coming from god knows where, “Have lots of fun. You don’t need to make it back for dinner, and if you are not coming back for the night, remember to ring."

Chapter Notes:

Translator’s note(s):

  1. White weapon; or rather, cold, steel weapon-like blades that are hafted.

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