Passion: Diaphonic Symphonia Novel - Chapter 11

He had already heard that the relationships among the younger generation within Tarten showed signs of a gang fight.

Come to think of it, since the atmosphere had been formed over decades, it was not strange that such a clear division was now apparent. Moreover, since everyone already knew about it, it was understandable that they didn’t care much for outsiders who entered this house and shared meals with them.

“I don’t want to be the only fool caught up in that kind of atmosphere.”

Jeong Taeui skillfully cut his baked potato into four pieces with just a fork, mumbling.

“Huh? What did you say?”

Next to him, his neighbor, who had been talking to the man across the table, turned his head. Jeong Taeui chewed his potato and waved his fork. The friendly neighbor said, “Then it’s fine,” and put his fork to his own plate.

The atmosphere in the dining room, however, was not as bad as he had expected.

He had prepared himself for a rough time, expecting the younger generation staying in the West Wing to eat together, but surprisingly, there weren weren’t many people. He was told it was because their meal times were slightly different.

Moreover, they seemed to have no desire to get into a fistfight even while eating; fierce glances were exchanged, but no large-scale provocations occurred.

“This is a relatively mild atmosphere.”

Jeong Taeui licked the sauce off his lips with his thumb, reminiscing about the past.

It had been years already.

When Jeong Taeui was caught in his uncle’s scheme—or rather, dragged in by blackmail—and worked at the UNHRDO Asia branch, they used to have joint training with other branches every three months, rotating.

Shortly after Jeong Taeui arrived there, the first branch they encountered was the European branch. It was rumored to be on extremely bad terms with the Asia branch.

Back then, it was hard to eat peacefully.

Of course, they ate sitting among their own branch members, but if members of another branch were sitting at the next table, forks and knives would fly throughout the meal. Then, some would even flip tables as the fights escalated.

…Come to think of it, who was it again…? The one who would constantly grab a European guy and shove him into a plate, causing all sorts of chaos. There were so many similar guys that it was hard to tell them apart. Let’s see…

“Ah, right, right, it was Alta, Alta.”

That’s why he was always getting nagged by the living arrangements officer. In the end, the officer even made Alta sit with him and eat every meal.

“This guy’s been mumbling to himself… Hey, are you okay?”

The neighbor, who had been glancing at Jeong Taeui, finally couldn’t stand it and asked, tapping his own head.

Yes, in such a case, if a European guy said this, it would cause trouble. No, there actually was such a case.

Once, during sparring, Jeong Taeui slightly sprained his arm, causing him to spill food a couple of times during a meal. A European guy at the next table sneered, telling him he must have it tough with tremors and to eat well.

Jeong Taeui casually replied, “Yeah, thanks for the concern,” and calmly ate his meal, while Carlo next to him suddenly threw a plate at the guy. He vividly remembered struggling to eat amidst plates, forks, and knives flying through the air as the surroundings instantly turned into a brawl.

Jeong Taeui smiled with a sigh, recalling the memories that had now become fond ones. And he gave a broad smile to the kind neighbor who had worried about him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for worrying.”

“Oh, alright. It must be hard being in a new place, but hang in there.”

The kind man next to him, who genuinely worried, nodded largely and patted Jeong Taeui’s shoulder.

This neighbor was one of the minority who supported Christoph—or, more precisely, disliked Richard.

Although most people had implicitly designated seats, such as Christoph sitting at the head of the table in the front, it was still possible to observe people sitting in factions if one looked closely.

Jeong Taeui, who belonged to neither side, hesitated for a moment before sitting in an empty spot. Fortunately, by chance, the person next to him was such a kind—an ally-like—individual.

“By the way, how did you end up getting caught by Christoph and getting stuck here? Where are you from?”

The kind neighbor asked, finishing a palm-sized grilled fish in two bites. This cheerful neighbor, who introduced himself as Johan, said he was Christoph’s cousin. Remembering that Richard was also called a cousin, he asked how many cousins there were, and was told that there were nearly twenty officially registered cousins on his father’s side alone.

Indeed, the elders of this family must have known that nothing was as important as sheer numbers in gaining strength.

The man across from Johan, who laughed heartily while saying that if you included maternal relatives and unregistered descendants, there would be more than double, was also said to be a cousin, though not officially related to the family.

“The atmosphere here is pretty ambiguous too,” Jeong Taeui thought, glancing at Christoph, who was sitting some distance away.

In a place where people generally conversed with one or two people right beside or in front of them while eating, Christoph quietly moved his silver cutlery alone.

He had heard that for noblewomen, silver cutlery was just another accessory during meals, and this guy didn’t seem much different. It felt as if a camera was rolling somewhere nearby.

Jeong Taeui suddenly put his fork down on the plate. And rubbing his mouth with the napkin next to him, he mumbled,

“Even though he sometimes shows facets that are quite perplexing and awkward, I guess it can be explained by just saying he has a bad temper… Did he do something that would make him so ostracized?”

“Hmm? Who?”

Johan followed Jeong Taeui’s gaze with a fork in his mouth. Then, identifying Christoph at the end of it, he frowned.

“Christoph?! Is that guy the type to be ostracized? Nobody goes near him because he’s crazy. Even I only think it’s better that Chris’s surroundings are quiet because I hate the guys surrounding Richard so much; I don’t truly support him from the bottom of my heart.”

“Hmm. He doesn’t seem that crazy, though.”

Jeong Taeui tilted his head. However, he didn’t bother to argue the point. Considering that Ilay had also been acting relatively normal at home lately, there was a high possibility that Jeong Taeui was wrong.

Jeong Taeui nodded, listening to Johan earnestly advocating the “Christoph is crazy” theory with one ear and letting it out the other.

He felt he understood the general atmosphere now. Though he wasn’t satisfied or keen on it, he generally got the vibe.

Most of the young men—though expressing it with threats or bursts of anger—feared him. Beyond liking or disliking him, they were wary of him. The fact that he was almost unsociable probably played a part too.

“Well, if he doesn’t mind it himself, then it doesn’t matter.”

Jeong Taeui chewed on his words along with the salad, nodding.

No matter what state one is in, how one lives, or how others perceive them, if one is truly satisfied with their situation, then others have no right to comment. He only wished that such a person wouldn’t despair of reality.

Yes, come to think of it, even a guy like Ilay lives well.

He has incurred the condemnation of all and earned so much resentment that he could be showered with bullets even while peacefully eating in a restaurant. For all he knew, such a person was probably not common.

Even such a person lived well without despairing of reality or falling into depression. Rather, if those around him showed such symptoms, he would be the one to live without hindrance. And he didn’t think he would suddenly repent and suffer, atoning for his past, decades later.

“…They say he also worked with Grow, so that says it all.”

Just then, Jeong Taeui thought he heard a familiar name and asked, “Huh?” lifting his head.

Johan, who had apparently been continuously advocating the “Christoph is crazy” theory while Jeong Taeui was lost in thought, shrugged and looked at Jeong Taeui as if seeking agreement. Then, seeing Jeong Taeui’s dumbfounded expression, he deliberately frowned.

“You don’t know? Crazy Rick?”

“Huh? Oh… no, you mean Ilay Riegrow.”

“Right. …Anyway, all these guys here, if you really think about it, used to run around with him when they were kids, so you could say they’re childhood friends—though many would vehemently deny it—but nobody wanted to work with him.”

Johan put down his fork on the plate he had completely emptied, not leaving a single piece of parsley, and picked up a napkin. He was cheerful, but his personality showed a private side, and he shook his head, saying he couldn’t understand.

“Chris, even though he’s crazy, he’s not a bad guy. Anyway, he doesn’t harm you first unless you mess with him. Plus, he’s smart. His expression always looks like he’s lost his mind, but he has a natural brain and received proper gifted education. But what exactly is the need to build such a dangerous relationship—well, that’s why he’s crazy.”

Johan, who had talked to himself and reached his own conclusion, vigorously wiped his mouth with a napkin.

What on earth did Ilay do to create such a firm bad reputation? Jeong Taeui put down his fork, feeling a little depressed. There were still a few vegetables left on his plate, but he was full.

He thought, “I’ve eaten enough, so maybe I should head back. The atmosphere isn’t great anyway,” and patted his stomach, looking at Christoph. There was still quite a bit of food left on his plate, but he seemed to be almost done.

Should I go now?

Just as he thought that and was about to get up from his seat.

For a very brief moment, the dining room fell silent.

Richard was entering through the open door.

Some gazes shifted from Richard to Christoph. They were glances mixed with expectation, worry, and curiosity.

Jeong Taeui rested his chin on his hand, thinking, “I should have left sooner.” He casually watched them as he ripped open the pull tab of a beer can he had asked a passing butler for.

Richard, who had seemingly just come from somewhere outside and immediately entered the dining room, said with a smile, “Ah, I haven’t eaten anything since lunch,” and took off his suit jacket, handing it to the butler. Then his gaze stopped at Christoph.

Christoph also didn’t pretend not to see the gaze and briefly looked back.

The moment their eyes met, the smiles vanished from both their faces—though Christoph had no smile to begin with.

“…”

The people who had been whispering and talking among themselves just moments ago were now silent. Then, perhaps finding the silence awkward themselves, they resumed their conversations, but their voices were noticeably quieter than before.

Richard then calmly greeted those nearby, asking, “Anything special today?”, and sat down. It was the seat directly opposite Christoph.

“People who don’t get along always sit like that…”

Jeong Taeui narrowed his eyes, sipping his beer, and mumbled.

Seeing people come and go, it seemed that while there weren’t strictly fixed seats, people generally sat in certain areas. Seeing them naturally sit in those spots despite several empty seats nearby, it seemed those two also had their own designated seats.

Indeed, when they first entered the dining room, the seat where Christoph was sitting was conspicuously empty, set apart, in a somewhat unnatural way.

Johan, beside him, supported Jeong Taeui’s thought.

“Oh, but it’s always that seat.”

“Well, if they deliberately sat far apart, it would feel too much like they were conscious of each other, so they wouldn’t like that either.”

“Right, you’d do the same, wouldn’t you?”

“No.”

He shook his head decisively, thinking, “If it were me, I’d definitely go to the furthest seat from anyone I felt uncomfortable with.” After all, shouldn’t one live with peace of mind?

For instance, if someone like Ilay were sitting there, he would surely occupy the furthest seat. If that seat was taken, he would likely push out the person already sitting there to take it.

He vaguely remembered trying so hard to avoid him, but now he was in this situation.

Jeong Taeui gnawed on the corner of his beer can, recalling the adults’ saying that one never knows what tomorrow holds.

Come to think of it…

Jeong Taeui stared intently at Richard.

He tilted his head, looking at the pleasant face of the man who was talking to the person next to him, seemingly not even noticing Christoph sitting directly opposite, and who occasionally smiled.

Come to think of it, that man had commissioned something from Ilay.

Recalling Ilay, who had suddenly left home for a couple of months without a word, he considered asking the man what he had commissioned, but then stopped himself.

Asking someone what they had secretly commissioned from another person was absurd in itself, but to ask that, he would first have to explain that he had been there at the time.

He had no intention of digging into Ilay’s business by saying, “I was lying behind the sofa and overheard your conversation…”

“But, you know.”

Jeong Taeui suddenly said, lounging with his arm propped on the table, pouring beer into his mouth, looking at them in a decadent posture. Next to him, Johan, who had gotten himself a beer after seeing Jeong Taeui drinking and thinking it looked refreshing, turned to him.

“That area with the remarkably hostile atmosphere. Do they really have to dislike each other that much?”

“Hmm? Oh… Well, Richard is there, you know.”

Jeong Taeui frowned at Johan, who spoke as if it were natural for them to dislike each other.

“Anyway, Christoph isn’t competing anymore, is he?”

“No, putting aside the competition, Richard just genuinely dislikes Christoph a great deal. And Christoph feels the same way.”

“Hmm…?”

Jeong Taeui just rolled his eyes to look at Johan, then made a surprised sound and looked at Richard.

He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would intensely dislike a specific individual to the point where others would notice—or at least show it.

“He seems like a very kind person.”

“He is kind. To be precise, he’s sincere and reliable, someone people would follow. You could call him a man of integrity.”

Jeong Taeui was about to say, “How could such a man of integrity…” but then closed his mouth. It somehow felt like it would be a biased remark.

Who doesn’t have one or two people they like and dislike? No matter how virtuous a person is, they cannot embrace everyone. It’s commendable enough just to not overly express dislike towards people one dislikes.

“It’s like a battle between good and evil.”

When Jeong Taeui mumbled this, Johan spat out beer and laughed heartily. Jeong Taeui flinched and moved sideways. The thought of it being disgusting and the waste of beer hit him at the same time. He wished he had spat out water instead.

Johan, who had been laughing so hard that he nearly fell over, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, said,

“Well, their personalities didn’t align from the start, but they grew up together and met often since childhood. There were all sorts of things that happened over the years.”

“Hmm.”

Jeong Taeui nodded and swirled his beer can. Clink, the little bit of beer left clinked inside the can.

Relationships build up over time. No relationship was consistently smooth. If there was one, it surely wouldn’t be a normal relationship.

However, it was also not easy for relationships to be so rough. Especially if a long time had passed.

“The saying ‘bitter affection’ isn’t for nothing…”

Just as Jeong Taeui mumbled that and gulped down the rest of his beer.

He had been spaced out for a moment, thinking it was noisy, and then realized a small quarrel had broken out at the front.

A man sitting two seats away from Christoph and a man sitting diagonally opposite him were creating a hostile atmosphere.

“What’s wrong with them now?”

“Maybe he kicked him suddenly after their feet bumped a few times.”

“…They wouldn’t fight so childishly… …Oh, they might.”

Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue. He had planned to drink another can or two of beer, but it seemed the dining room, where curses were beginning to fly, wouldn’t be a good place for drinking.

That dispute didn’t seem like it would settle down nicely. Should he just grab a couple of beer cans and go back to his room around now?

Jeong Taeui subtly pulled his chair back, preparing to get up. And as he tried to pretend not to notice and walk towards the door, just then, as if to block his way, the man who had been cursing from across the table suddenly stood up with a surge of anger and circled around towards him.

It was a bit far, so the sparks wouldn’t reach him, but the way out was blocked.

Jeong Taeui scratched his head and furtively looked around.