Passion: Diaphonic Symphonia Novel - Chapter 23

academy, he had always been in environments where men specializing in fighting and combat gathered.

Among the countless men he had seen, as far as Jeong Taeui knew, no one was better at fighting than Ilay. Whether it was a swift and clean method or a violent and grand one, no one was as adept at achieving their desired outcome through combat. So, it was hard to imagine Ilay being defeated by anyone, not just Christoph.

“…If you force it through, can you win?”

It wasn’t meant to be dismissive, but Jeong Taeui mumbled with a skeptical air, and Christoph frowned. He glared fiercely without a word, his look conveying anger at what he meant by such a question.

“No, it’s not that I don’t trust you.” Jeong Taeui quickly added, raising both hands.

Christoph stared dangerously at Jeong Taeui for a long time, then abruptly turned his head away. At the sudden movement, which caused a stir of air, Jeong Taeui laughed again.

It was then.

“How rude. To say such a thing to a man who single-handedly brought about a European Killing Fields.”

It was a low, cool voice, as if he was half-smiling.

Jeong Taeui recalled the thought that once a person’s luck gets twisted, it continues to twist. At the same time, he frantically searched his memories. Damn it. What did I say? Did I say anything that would make this guy even more twisted, or not? It feels like I did, and that makes me even more anxious. I think the last thing I said was about forcing it through.

While Jeong Taeui was racking his brain, the man approached from the direction of the temporary tower. Even without turning to look, that voice, that slow approaching presence, made it clear who it was.

“What a hobby, eavesdropping…” Jeong Taeui frowned. He quickly glanced sideways.

Christoph remained motionless, still gazing into the empty space beneath the sky. As if dreaming with his eyes open, his expression showed no change. He simply mumbled, “You’re here?” after a bored pause. Jeong Taeui awkwardly scratched his head.

He hadn’t expected to encounter him like this. The East Wing was that far away, and from where they sat, the East Wing was directly visible, so everyone entering and exiting could be seen. He had thought he would be somewhere inside.

“Why are you coming from th—” Jeong Taeui mumbled sullenly, turning his head towards the direction of his voice, but stopped midway.

Ilay was now ten or so paces away. His face wasn’t visible due to the backlight, but a familiar silhouette was approaching. However, on that familiar silhouette’s shoulder, a large hump protruded. A hump bigger than Ilay’s head.

“Huh? What’s on your shoul—”

But before Jeong Taeui could finish speaking, the hump moved. Only after hearing a child’s whispered voice, “Please put me down,” did Jeong Taeui realize there was a child sitting on his shoulder. Ilay gently lifted the child and set him down on the ground, and the silhouette that had been on his shoulder disappeared.

“Christoph. Christoph, did you come out to see the meteor shower too?”

The child approached them, seemingly pleased. Only when he saw the child illuminated by the light spilling from the West Wing’s lit windows did Jeong Taeui recognize him. It was Oliver. A miniature Richard.

Christoph frowned slightly at the child. Then he shook his head again, as if bored.

“I don’t know about such things.”

“Oh, a meteor shower is supposed to fall today. …But it’s cloudy…” Oliver, who had been speaking cheerfully, suddenly trailed off and looked up at the sky. The sky, sparsely dotted with clouds, showed few stars. Christoph looked down at the child with a displeased face, then glanced at the sky. His gaze drifted vaguely across the night sky.

“…Ah.” Jeong Taeui suddenly muttered to himself.

At his words, Christoph’s gaze briefly flickered to him. Oliver also looked at Jeong Taeui. Jeong Taeui waved his hand, indicating it was nothing. He suddenly realized. Christoph might perhaps be fond of this child.

…Given that displeased and cold face, he might be mistaken, but…

Jeong Taeui tilted his head and scratched it. Then he suddenly noticed a gaze on him and turned his head. Ilay was staring at him from a little distance away. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the gaze felt incredibly sharp.

And then, a question remained. Or rather, shock.

“…Why did you bring that child?” Jeong Taeui asked suspiciously, and Ilay subtly raised an eyebrow. Then he answered as if nothing was strange.

“Richard asked me to. He said he was going to watch the meteor shower with his son tonight, but something came up and he had to go to the main building for a bit, and asked me to look after his son until then.”

Jeong Taeui fell silent. Beyond Ilay’s shoulder, looking in the direction he came from, stood the temporary tower connecting the main building and the West Wing. The top, adorned with a sky garden, seemed to offer an excellent view of the sky. But…

To entrust his beloved son to this guy, Richard might be a bigger deal than he thought. And another, unexpected shock: that man actually gives children piggyback rides.

“You had an unexpectedly gentle side, Ilay. Giving a child a piggyback ride.” Jeong Taeui muttered, glancing at him. Ilay looked at Jeong Taeui silently for a moment. His gaze, lost in thought, piercing Jeong Taeui’s face, was chilling. So much so that even Jeong Taeui, accustomed to his eyes, felt a shiver. He finally seemed to finish his thoughts and slowly opened his mouth.

“If you value your life, never call me by that name again, Kim Youngsoo.”

“…—. I’ll keep that in mind, Riegrow.” Jeong Taeui replied quietly. Ilay, who had been looking at him a little longer, then looked at Oliver, who was standing a little distance away, and suddenly said as if remembering something.

“Is it that strange that I give a child a piggyback ride?”

At his words, which carried a slight hint of a smile, Jeong Taeui looked at him with a momentary look of disbelief. Though he quickly composed his gaze. He had thought that this man, though abnormal, knew himself quite well, but was that not the case?

“…Have you ever done that before?”

“No, it’s the first time.”

“I thought so.”

Whatever whim had struck him now, the idea of Ilay Riegrow being a kind and gentle figure towards children was a fantasy that simply couldn’t exist in Jeong Taeui’s mind. Indeed, even now, his gaze down at Oliver showed no tenderness or warmth whatsoever. It was as if he regarded it merely as a task assigned to him.

Richard truly had great character. Even thinking about it again, he couldn’t help but admire the boldness of entrusting his son, even for a moment, to this man.

“I don’t know what whim made you carry a child on your shoulder, but it doesn’t look bad, at least.”

It was jarringly ill-suited, but that was because Jeong Taeui knew Ilay. If a stranger saw it, they might very well think he was a handsome, young father kindly taking his child around. Ilay seemed to smile faintly. He slowly approached. Jeong Taeui flinched slightly at his unreadable, subtle gaze.

He seemed to slow his steps momentarily in front of Jeong Taeui, but then he passed by. As he walked towards Christoph, who was speaking coldly to Oliver a little distance away, he gave Jeong Taeui a very brief glance as he passed, whispering just loud enough for him to hear.

“If you want, I can fill you up so completely every single day until you get a child. How about it?”

“…—.”

Ilay, who had slowly passed him by, glancing at Jeong Taeui flinching and subtly recoiling without realizing it, chuckled softly.

“I suit the father role quite well, don’t I?”

As Ilay spoke cheerfully and approached Christoph and Oliver, Christoph snorted and turned his head, while Oliver merely smiled silently.

No matter how he thought about it, it was hopeless. That way of thinking, he really couldn’t fathom how it worked, no matter how much he tried. Jeong Taeui rubbed his arms, where goosebumps had instantly erupted, and glared at the back of Ilay’s head. If only he could aim for that head and throw just one pebble, he would have no regrets.

Jeong Taeui sat alone on the bench, trying desperately to forget what he had heard. Just then, Oliver suddenly mumbled, “Oh, Dad,” and began to run towards the main building. From the central entrance of the main building, far enough away to barely make out a face, Richard was emerging from the stairs. As Oliver ran, he too seemed to notice, smiling and opening his arms.

From afar, watching them, Jeong Taeui heard Ilay’s low voice, though he didn’t know who he was speaking to.

“You two need to be careful with your words.”

Jeong Taeui, feeling guilty, flinched and turned his head. Ilay, with an indifferent face, was looking at the father and son far away, smiling faintly as if by habit. Jeong Taeui watched him with narrowed eyes, then sighed bitterly and said,

“I guess voices carry all the way up to the temporary tower?”

“I can clearly see who’s sitting down there. As for voices, well… I saw who was there from up there, came down, and as I approached, I heard them.”

Jeong Taeui recalled the question he had been racking his brain over earlier but had temporarily forgotten. Come to think of it, what had he and Christoph been talking about before this guy arrived?

Watching Richard and his son approach, Ilay lowered his voice a little more.

“Chris. The guy who doesn’t wish for what he should truly wish for, shouldn’t be wishing for what he shouldn’t, huh?”

“Me?” Christoph frowned. He looked at Ilay as if he had heard something ridiculous.

“You don’t even know what you want anyway, so don’t be pointlessly greedy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A cold and quiet conversation continued.

Meanwhile, Richard and Oliver were approaching them, and Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue at the subtly hostile atmosphere between the men beside him, wondering, “What’s wrong here now?”

Ilay’s mouth, which had been calmly smiling at Oliver with a detached face, twitched slightly. His gaze grew colder, as if Christoph’s words bothered him.

“The atmosphere’s getting worse and worse… what’s going on?” Jeong Taeui subtly interjected, but they said nothing.

Ilay slowly turned his gaze to Christoph, staring intently at his expressionless, sculpted face. Suddenly, his lips seemed to move slightly, emitting a low, dangerous voice.

“You’ve never cried out in pain, have you?”

“…”

“I don’t care if you go anywhere and grab anyone and wail, but you need to choose your target carefully, Chris. Not that guy. Look for someone else. —But who, indeed, could ever accept you…” The last part was very low, almost inaudible.

Jeong Taeui’s face hardened. Those words weren’t directed at him. Ilay was clearly speaking to Christoph. But those words sounded unusually chilling. Probably because the expression had vanished from Christoph’s face.

Staring silently at the courtyard, he stood motionless like a living doll, only blinking his eyes. He didn’t seem to be listening to anything Ilay said, didn’t give him a single glance, and offered no reply. He simply stood there idly, as if bored. His face was white. His face, barely discernible in the darkness, was devoid of color.

Beside him, Ilay looked down at him. At some point, for a very brief moment, his lips curved. His icy eyes narrowed.

“Il—… …Riegrow.” Jeong Taeui gave him a rigid look.

He couldn’t pinpoint which part. But Ilay had clearly cut into some deeply hidden part of Christoph, and he knew it. No, he had known it from the beginning when he said those words.

Ilay gave Jeong Taeui a cold look. When Jeong Taeui was about to open his mouth, he spoke first.

“Let me tell you, I don’t tolerate annoying people. And even less those who don’t know their place or their limits. You’d do well to engrave that in your mind, Kim.”

Jeong Taeui closed his mouth. Those glass-like eyes staring directly at Jeong Taeui were Ilay, not Riegrow. Just as Jeong Taeui was Kim Youngsoo, not Jeong Taeui.

Step out of line, and you die. Probably for anyone else, surely, step out of line, and you die.

Then what about me?

Thinking such thoughts, Jeong Taeui clutched his chilled heart and forced a smile that wouldn’t quite form.

Snap out of it. I’m Kim Youngsoo right now. I’m the one who must shoulder the full responsibility for all my actions alone. The one who cannot expect any recognition or mercy from the other party.

Jeong Taeui looked at Christoph. He stood there indifferently, as if nothing had happened. Not looking at Jeong Taeui, not looking at anyone else, just at the empty space. Only his face was subtly pale.

An unsettling silence hung between the three of them. Breaking that silence, Oliver, who had approached quite close, ran towards them again. Behind him, Richard smiled warmly as he watched his son run.

It was then.

“…Ah. A shooting star…”

Suddenly, Oliver’s eyes widened, and he looked up at the sky. He lifted his chin high, following the briefly sparkling and disappearing streak through the scattered clouds in the night sky.

“Did you see that just now?”

Oliver, with wide eyes, turned back excitedly. His glowing eyes, which had been staring blankly at the sky, turned towards Richard, who was following a short distance behind him. Richard smiled and nodded.

“There will be more falling soon. I hope the clouds clear up a little…”

Richard, who had looked up at the sky with a slight worry, then dropped his gaze back to his son, and in the next moment, the smile vanished from his face.

Oliver, who had been running, alternating glances between the sky and Richard, was now rushing towards Christoph, who stood frozen in place.

“Oh, …Whoa!”

Oliver, running without noticing Christoph blocking his path, crashed into him full-body. Losing his balance, he stumbled for a moment, then reflexively hugged Christoph’s waist to steady himself.

“Ah… I’m sorry…” 

Oliver looked up, apologizing with a startled expression.

At that moment. Christoph, who had been standing motionless like a living sculpture, not even moving a finger, as if trapped within his own body, suddenly changed his expression. His eyes, pale and lifeless as if he had been electrocuted, stared wide open. His white face grew even whiter. His lips twitched for a moment.

And without warning, without knowing what was happening, Christoph abruptly shook Oliver off. He trembled as if a horrible, giant bug had clung to him, and mercilessly shoved the small body that had been clinging to his waist.

“…!!”

It happened in the blink of an eye. Before anyone could stop him, before anyone could shout, Christoph’s rough hands mercilessly struck the boy’s body. And Oliver, who had barely regained his balance clinging to Christoph’s waist, screamed and was pushed back several meters, his eyes wide open.

Thump.

A dull sound echoed from behind Oliver’s head as he fell backward, hitting his backside. It wasn’t loud, but it was a rupture that sent a chill down the listener’s spine.

“Oliver!” 

Richard’s shout tore through the brief silence.

As if regaining his senses the moment he pushed Oliver away, Christoph, who had been blinking his eyes with a momentarily confused expression, finally saw Oliver lying a few meters in front of him. With his expressionless face, he simply stared blankly at the spot.

Jeong Taeui instinctively rose and ran to Oliver. Next to the wide path in front of the West Wing, where they had been standing, was a well-maintained courtyard. Low stone pillars, knee-high, surrounded the courtyard, separating it from the path. Oliver lay unconscious beside one of these stone pillars. There was dark blood on the rounded pillar top.

Jeong Taeui, who reached Oliver almost simultaneously with Richard, first examined the stone pillar. Faint traces of blood, barely visible, remained on his hand. Richard, with a hardened face, very carefully slipped his hand under Oliver’s back. And slowly, cautiously, he moved his hand towards his head.

“…Oliver.” 

His low voice, calling his son, was stiff. It seemed he could barely speak. Oliver lay unconscious, pale-faced and motionless. Richard called him again. “Oliver, Oliver,” his voice grew slightly louder.

How many times did he call his name like that? At some point, Oliver’s eyebrows twitched. His tightly closed eyelids trembled faintly. A barely audible groan escaped his lips.

“Oliver!” 

Beside Richard, who called his name again, Jeong Taeui exhaled. At the same time, he nervously fumbled in his pocket. He needed to contact someone—anyone—an ambulance or something. But after emptying all his pockets, he realized he didn’t have his phone. He sharply lifted his head and saw Ilay, standing a few steps away, looking down at them with indifferent eyes, already on the phone.