King Of War: Starting with Arms Dealer-Chapter 1030 - 918: The Terrifying Hand

The ’Tiger Fish’ was not dead yet—it struggled desperately on the deck, its terrifyingly large mouth snapping open and shut with a ’clack’ ’clack’ sound...

Qiao Liang was shocked by the thing inside the fish’s mouth. He stood up, rewound the footage he had just filmed, and screamed, "It’s a human hand! This thing eats people..."

Qiao Liang’s words stunned those around him. The leader of Team D, Grey Wolf, grabbed an iron rod, intending to finish off the ’Tiger Fish,’ but ’Capybara’ stopped him.

’Capybara’ instructed Dorian to grab the rope tied to the tail of the fish while he himself reached into the fish’s gills, exhaled heavily, and forcibly stabilized the 1.2-meter-long fish.

Then, the Bajau man pulled out a triangular blade from his calf, measured the spot where the fish’s head connected to its body, and stabbed it with precision.

Professionals kill differently. If it were Joe Ga handling this massive fish, it would surely turn into a chaotic mess. But with just one stab, ’Capybara’ had the fish convulsing as though electrocuted—its body instantly twisted and stiffened...

When ’Capybara’ pulled out the triangular blade, a splash of crimson blood followed, and the fish appeared to relax as if it sighed in relief. Its muscles slackened entirely, and it stopped moving.

Joe Ga lacked knowledge of ’Capybara’s’ method of killing fish, thus finding him particularly skilled.

Squatting down, Joe Ga placed his hands on the fish’s upper and lower jaws, pried open the terrifying mouth, and called to Dorian, "Take out whatever’s inside and have a look..."

Being singled out, Dorian reluctantly circled to the front, squatted down, looked at his hands, and the dreadful maw before him. Helplessly, he remarked, "Boss, why don’t we just gut it instead...

I saw it too—it’s definitely a hand, and it’s a white person’s hand."

As he spoke, Dorian extended his own hand and said, "If your grip slips later, it might end up with an extra hand inside its belly..."

Joe Ga laughed at Dorian’s cowardice, suddenly letting go and allowing the fish’s jaws to snap shut...

With a loud "clack," Dorian was startled enough to fall backward onto the deck...

’Capybara’ chuckled at Dorian’s reaction, picked up a gaff, and approached the fish. He signaled the boss to pry open the fish’s mouth again...

Reading the cue, Joe Ga once again forced open the fish’s jaws...

He thought ’Capybara’ was going to use the gaff to retrieve the hand. Instead, ’Capybara’ plunged the meter-long tool into the fish’s stomach, twisted vigorously, and extracted almost all of the fish’s entrails.

Blood-red and bile-green viscera spilled onto the deck in a slushy mess as ’Capybara’ pulled them out.

Most of the group were seasoned individuals who’d seen their fair share of horrors, so they didn’t find this particularly gruesome.

But as the fish’s guts were exposed to air, the contents began releasing an overpowering smell...

Not exactly foul, but a pungent blend of bloody stench mixed with a corrupt sourness—an odor so intense it seemed to jab straight into the brain.

Joe Ga fared okay, but Qiao Liang, filming on his phone nearby, was overwhelmed by the offensive smell. Reflexively swallowing, he dry-heaved and rushed to the stern to empty his stomach into the river.

After vomiting for a while, Qiao Liang, attempting to save face, walked to the boat’s windward side, steadied himself, and returned to filming...

However, just as he entered the crowd again, he saw ’Capybara’ crouching on the deck, rummaging through the fish’s entrails with a knife while chuckling, "This smell is hard to stomach...

The Malay mob has a body disposal method where they cook a person in a large pot, pour out the broth, and soak the meat in acid...

When I was in the military, I raided one such workshop—it smelled just like this mess here.

Be more cautious later; scrub the deck meticulously, or the paint will corrode..."

Speaking of which, ’Capybara’ unearthed a human hand, lifted it delicately with the blade, and showed it to Qiao Liang. He remarked, "This must be it, right?"

Qiao Liang looked at the partially decomposed hand, recalling ’Capybara’s’ earlier anecdotes. He swallowed hard, about to respond, but the stench hit him again...

"Urghhh..."

Joe Ga watched his younger brother vomiting bile, grinned, bumped fists with ’Capybara,’ and said, "I told you—let him feel it firsthand. No need to scare him with stories.

The guy’s already dead. Why bother cooking and soaking him first?"

After clearing out the fish’s belly, ’Capybara’ scooped the messy pile into a bucket and dumped the guts into the river...

Seeing Joe Ga’s nonchalant attitude, ’Capybara’ laughed, saying, "Boss, you think I made that up?"

Joe Ga responded in disbelief, "Don’t tell me it’s true!"

’Capybara’ moved to the stern to activate the water pump. While rinsing his hands and gutting the fish, he laughed, "It’s true. Cooked human tissue destroys DNA.

No body means no homicide case. Even if a corpse is found, with its DNA ruined, you still can’t confirm identity.

This type of work has specific names in different places...

In Mexico, they’re called ’Soup Makers,’ in Colombia ’Cleaners,’ in Malaysia ’Meat Chefs.’ I don’t know about any others..."

Flabbergasted, Joe Ga shook his head and asked, "What’s the motive behind all that?"

’Capybara’ shrugged and explained, "These places actually have police and laws.

Gangsters and drug dealers are different professions. Gangsters need to stay cautious to make money.

The more careful the gangster, the longer their operation lasts.

Bad guys inevitably face elimination or judgment someday. They’re happy to pay specialists to dispose of bodies—to reduce the severity of charges if caught.

When enemies disappear or die, the weight of their absence matters in the end."

Though Joe Ga had witnessed countless evils, ’Capybara’s’ revelation of this underground trade still left him unnerved.

No corpse means no case. Even if skeletal remains are discovered, DNA tracing fails without identifiable genetic material—leaving law enforcement unable to tie culprits to victims!

Joe Ga couldn’t imagine that the world’s criminal networks operated on such a meticulous level.

It stunned him to think people actually engaged in such grim work!

In Africa, this kind of thing rarely existed. Many countries here lacked DNA testing facilities, and attitudes toward death varied significantly.

This highlighted the benefits of primitive simplicity. Evil committed openly under the sun, compared to schemes forced into dark corners by laws, seemed somewhat less unbearable.

Here, anyone’s malice was straightforward—might made right, and the victorious spoke the loudest. Simplicity had its appeal.

In most countries, crossing paths with law-savvy gangsters or evildoers meant legal action often fell short. Acting on your own led only to being labeled a fugitive.

Thus, the "cost" of justice became immensely high!

Joe Ga sneered, casually kicking the bucket containing the chaotic remains. He remarked, "This hand is a white man’s. I doubt any white person dying in Congo would go unnoticed—unless they ’don’t exist’..."

He then pulled out a knife, stabbed the rotting hand, tossed it near the bucket, and stirred the contents. Soon, he fished out a metallic dog tag...

Examining its shape and design closely, Joe Ga furrowed his brow and said, "This looks like a British soldier’s tag... David Markson...

Night Tiger once sent me intel indicating a group of mercenaries had infiltrated Congo ages ago, training anti-government guerrillas funded by a corporation called ’G.I.D.’

This guy was likely part of that mercenary group. What do you think happened to him?

Aside from us, are there other forces targeting foreign personnel in Central Africa and Congo?"

Faced with Joe Ga’s inquiry, most around him shrugged, signaling their lack of knowledge...

P.B.’s men had spent long enough in Africa to grow reckless. In a land without rivals, brute force prevailed; meticulous efforts were unwelcome here.

P.B. had some drones circling the skies—this was as sophisticated as African intelligence technology got.

In a place like this, dumping James Bond into the jungle would lead him to neither girls nor useful information. Intelligence? What a joke.

As everyone exchanged blank glances, ’Spider,’ the veteran who hadn’t spoken all along, approached and directly pulled out a sharp object Joe Ga had missed. He inspected it closely and grinned eerily at the boss.

’Spider’ tossed the spike to an elder covered in mud patches before stating, "Boss, this is a Mud People Tribe arrowhead. ’Silt’ is one of theirs.

The Mud People are fierce warriors—it’s possible these mercenaries clashed with them in the forests..."

Upon hearing this, ’Grey Wolf’ from Team D frowned, remarking, "Mercenaries losing to primitive tribes?"

’Spider’ laughed darkly, pointing out, "Look at the bones in the severed hand—it wasn’t bitten off; it was hacked multiple times with a stone axe before breaking.

Someone dismembered this mercenary and threw him into the river...

’Silt’ once took four days to hack apart a man using a stone axe, feeding every severed piece to the beasts while the victim watched each cut...

When enraged, Mud People tribesmen act this way!"

’Spider’ then picked up the decomposing hand, sniffed it, and added, "It’s relatively fresh. If we can find the Mud People quickly, this guy might still be alive."

Joe Ga perked up, looking at the quiet ’Silt,’ and asked, "Can you track them down?"

’Silt’ nodded, responding, "I can’t promise he’s alive, but if there’s a nearby Mud People tribe, I can find them."

Joe Ga decided firmly, "Then stop the boat. Go search for them. We’ve been only running into guerrillas the past few days—no sign of mercenaries. This clue is worth investigating..."

’Silt’ grinned, his face paint cracking with the movement...

He quickly sketched a simplified map of the river on the ground, pointing to a U-shaped bend. He detailed, "Boss, no need to halt—we’re near here already. I’ll disembark, you wait at this location. If I find them, I’ll meet you there..."

Stripping off his clothes, ’Silt’ hung a knife and machete across his chest and back. Flashing a grin at ’Grey Wolf,’ who dismissed primitive methods, he dashed and dove headfirst into the water...