Mercenary's War

Chapter 302 - 302 300 The Primitive Man with Boots He's Back!

302: Chapter 300 The Primitive Man with Boots, He’s Back!

302: Chapter 300 The Primitive Man with Boots, He’s Back!

The cartridge case was long, and at a glance, it was obvious that it was a .30-06 bullet cartridge.

The .30-06 bullet, meaning .30 inch caliber adopted in 1906, or 7.62x63mm, served as the munition for the U.S.

Army’s M1 rifle during World War II.

It has since been retired from active service and is now commonly used for hunting.

Although the caliber is the same as the 7.62x51mm NATO munition Gao Yang often used, the overall length of the bullet is much longer and, as such, contains a larger charge.

The .30-06 bullet packs more power, better suited against fierce beasts like bears or lions.

Consequently, after being phased out from military service, it has become very popular in the civilian market, becoming mainstream hunting ammunition in both Africa and the United States.

After examining the cartridge case he held in his hand, Gao Yang threw it on the ground, raised his shotgun, and continued forward until he arrived in front of the largest thatched hut.

After taking a deep breath, Gao Yang entered the largest thatched hut.

The interior of the hut was not in disarray, with animal skins still spread on the floor.

However, several patches of blackened bloodstains could be seen on the skins, and the tree branches that formed the hut’s walls bore bullet holes from when they were pierced by bullets.

On the animal skins scattered on the ground lay dozens of cartridge cases.

Gao Yang’s tears began to flow uncontrollably; he collapsed to the ground, biting his lip fiercely to prevent any sound from escaping.

There was no doubt, the tribe had been attacked, and the most likely scenario was that no one had survived.

By now, Gao Yang could confirm that the hut belonged to Akuri’s tribe.

He was very familiar with the Chieftain’s habit of building thatched huts.

Gao Yang felt utterly drained, slumped on the ground, barely able to move.

His lip had been bitten open, but he didn’t feel any pain.

It took quite a while for the overwhelming grief to gradually turn into extreme rage, and only then did Gao Yang, with trembling hands, pick up another cartridge case.

This time, it was a 7.62x39mm M43 intermediate cartridge, used in AK47s.

Gao Yang noticed markings on the cartridge case, but they were in English letters, not Russian.

He had left AK47 rifles and ammunition for the Akuri tribe when he departed, but Gao Yang remembered that the markings on those bullets were Russian.

Therefore, these cartridge cases were not left by the Akuri tribe but by the attackers.

Gao Yang struggled to his feet and started collecting the cartridge cases one by one, eventually confirming that all the cartridge cases in the hut were the same, fired from a single gun.

Unable to find more clues inside the hut, Gao Yang stepped out and began to

Once the weather improved, or after finding traces of the attackers, Gao Yang would consider the number and combat strength of the attackers and then decide whether to have the rifle sent to him.

Maybe he would need reinforcements, but there was no rush until he found the attackers.

Gao Yang was eager for revenge, but once he found his target, he would have all the patience in the world.

If he couldn’t handle it alone, then he’d call for support.

Although the Akuri tribe’s vendetta should be avenged by its own people, Gao Yang wanted to obliterate the attackers completely, not letting a single one escape.

After deciding to act alone, Gao Yang returned to a thatched hut where he had found something.

A pile of finely ground red clay, a heap of white clay, and black charcoal powder—these were the pigments used by the Akuri tribe for decoration.

He took out his water bottle and began mixing the clay.

When it seemed well-mixed, Gao Yang stripped off all his clothes, put them and all his gear into his backpack, and then began to apply red mud all over his body.

Like a girl applying makeup, Gao Yang carefully and evenly smeared the red mud onto every corner of his body.

Then, he began to use the white clay and black charcoal powder to draw lines and patterns on his skin.

Gao Yang worked meticulously and earnestly, silently sketching out the unique patterns of the Akuri tribe.

He painted a face pattern on himself, representing revenge in the Akuri tribe—his face red, adorned with fierce stripes of white and black.

After covering his body with patterns that symbolized revenge, Gao Yang stepped out of the hut and pulled long strands of grass from the savanna to weave himself a grass skirt—a task so familiar to him that he dressed quickly, restoring his appearance as it was during his time with the Akuri tribe.

Having reverted to the garb of the Akuri tribe, Gao Yang pulled on socks and then slipped back into his boots—he couldn’t help it, his feet were still too delicate to move barefoot like a true member of the Akuri tribe.

After all of this, Gao Yang went to another thatched hut to take out a bow and a poisoned arrow, stepping outside onto the clearing.

Without making a sound, Gao Yang exclaimed “Yo-ha,” lifted the bow and arrow above his head, waving them and started to dance the Akuri tribe’s war dance when setting out on an expedition or hunt.

Whether it was for hunting or attacking other tribes, the Akuri tribe performed this dance.

Although Gao Yang had never participated in conflicts with other tribes, he had danced it numerous times before hunting.

But while in the past the entire tribe of seventeen people, men, women, and children, would dance together, now it was only Gao Yang alone.

“White Child is setting out, oh spirits of the ancestors, guide me in my quest for revenge.”

“White Child is setting out, Kumtom, lead me to my enemies, let me avenge you and return with their heads.”

Gao Yang sang loudly in the Akuri language, calling out each name of the tribespeople.

Once the war dance for the expedition and revenge was completed, and the prayers for the souls of the departed and declarations of vengeance were finished, Gao Yang wiped away his tears.

He slung a belt with shotgun slugs across his chest and strapped the belt with his revolver around his waist.

Shouldering his backpack, he picked up the shotgun, and cast one last glance at the empty village.

Realizing he was the last member of the Akuri tribe, sorrow overcame him, and he could no longer hold back his tears, finally bursting into loud weeping.

With tears streaming and crying out in despair, Gao Yang didn’t look back as he walked toward the direction he had chosen.

(To be continued.

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