Just as Satan was preparing to deploy a team of aircraft from the base to begin a search—
Martin suddenly raised his finger and pointed in a specific direction.
"Over there."
Satan was momentarily stunned, not quite following.
"What?"
"No need to send aircraft. It's already getting dark—planes won't be able to take off until tomorrow morning. There's no point wasting time. I've already found the location of the poachers' base."
"That direction?"
Satan asked with a trace of doubt.
"Exactly."
The young man glanced in the direction Martin was pointing, then abruptly darted into the bushes and disappeared from sight.
"What's he doing?" Satan asked, even more confused.
"He's probably verifying what I just said," Martin replied with a smile. "That kid's surprisingly sharp."
Half an hour later, two off-road vehicles returned. One of the wounded teammates had only sustained a graze on the shoulder—a minor injury.
A little over ten minutes after that, the young man crawled back out from the underbrush, looking disheveled, but when he looked at Martin, his eyes held a reverence usually reserved for deities.
"I found tracks. It's the right direction. They were careful—the traces only started appearing a full kilometer away. They probably detoured a considerable distance in a different direction before looping back to throw us off."
He hesitated here, clearly wanting to ask how this impossibly handsome and composed boss had figured it out, but didn't dare.
Judging from the attitude of Satan and the others, this man clearly held an incredibly high—unimaginably high—status.
Martin didn't offer an explanation.
He simply swept his deep blue gaze across the group, and every last trace of doubt vanished from their minds, replaced by absolute trust.
…
Roughly ten kilometers from where the bodies were dumped—
A fairly large encampment was set up.
Dusk had fallen, and campfires were already lit.
Five beat-up trucks and three off-road vehicles formed a circle around the camp, creating a barrier of steel.
Camping on the African savanna was an intense and dangerous affair.
A single lapse in attention, and you might become dinner for some predator—and then fertilizer for this vast grassland.
So no level of caution could ever be considered excessive.
A fierce-looking man with a scruffy beard was currently shouting at a few armed men.
"You damn idiots! The enemy obviously hadn't walked into our ambush—why the hell did you open fire?! Fuck! Now our cover's blown! Just wait and see, those bastards—"
"Their planes will be over our heads tomorrow!" he fumed. "Fucking hell!"
A skinny man with glasses walked up and said, "Calm down, David. What's done is done. There's no point blaming anyone now. We'll pull out at dawn tomorrow. They'll probably send planes at first light too. As long as we head north into the jungle before they spot us, their aircraft won't find a thing."
"Tevez, we can't just run like this. We have to teach those bastards a lesson! They're trying to cut off our profits!" David growled.
"Teach them a lesson? Please," Tevez snapped. "Our ambush failed because they caught us off guard. Now that they're prepared, we're the ones about to get taught a lesson."
"Bullshit. You're just scared!" David spat.
Tevez's temper flared. "Damn right I'm scared! You need to understand—our enemy isn't someone we can take head-on. Behind those bastards is Hellfire. That's currently the most powerful private military contractor in Africa!"
"And even worse—Hellfire is backed by a mining conglomerate from Guinea. They control 80% of West Africa's mineral resources. They're a monstrous behemoth. Their private security force alone is over ten thousand strong. And they can mobilize the backing of governments across West Africa."
"And us? We've got what, a little over thirty guys? What, you want us thirty idiots to take on all of West Africa?"
David muttered defiantly, "We're not just thirty—others support us too."
"Oh? You mean the 'Hyena' and 'Porcupine' crews? Don't make me laugh. All they do is hide in the back and wave flags. None of them dares to show their face. Especially Hyena—his entire team got captured and are now working as mine slaves. He's just a puppet commander at this point."
Hyena and Porcupine were the names of two rival poaching gang leaders who, like "Black Humor," had past grudges with the enemy.
…
Night deepened.
Behind a small hill on the savanna, three off-road vehicles sat side by side, their headlights completely off.
Only a small fire flickered.
This hill was less than 1.5 kilometers from David and Tevez's poacher camp, and due to the natural terrain, their fire couldn't be seen from the enemy's position.
The fire wasn't for warmth—it was to ward off wild animals in the night.
On the African savanna, midnight meant danger in every direction.
You never knew how many eyes were watching you from the dark, licking their lips.
"Check your gear. We're going in on foot," Satan ordered.
Then he glanced at Martin.
Martin smiled. "I'm coming too. Don't worry—I won't interfere with your command."
"You know how to use a gun?" Satan asked.
"Of course."
Martin walked to the trunk of one of the vehicles and pulled out an AUG assault rifle. With practiced ease, he checked the magazine, chambered a round, and raised the weapon to sight through the scope.
The AUG was developed by Austria's Steyr Arms company in 1977. It was the first military rifle to officially feature a modular bullpup design.
Durable, corrosion-resistant, with a long service life and an easily detachable scope system, the AUG was widely favored in desert and savanna environments. It offered a cost-effective alternative to the AK series for civilians and militias.
The AUG in Martin's hands was fitted with a night vision scope.
Its lightweight polymer construction made it even easier to carry.
These features made it a top pick for precision shooters during nighttime operations.
Satan nodded approvingly and said nothing more.
His instinct to follow Martin's lead was deeply ingrained.
After that, following Steven lead, Satan and his men—as well as the young soldier—began applying a pungent medicinal balm to their skin.
This salve, made from local herbs, repelled mosquitoes. It also contained lion urine, which could scare off most nocturnal predators on the savanna.
After Satan's team finished applying the balm, the young soldier noticed that Martin hadn't moved and assumed he hadn't brought any, so he offered his own.
But Satan stopped him.
"The boss doesn't need it. He walks among us."
"But—"
The young man's words were cut off by Satan's stern gaze.
Martin smiled.
He really didn't need that stuff. It reeked.
There wasn't a single Incubus that would let him smear something that foul on himself.
And with his magic, he had no fear of any petty nocturnal creature.
[GodOfReader: Damn it, should i skip just skip this whole arc and just move on to the next one?]