Passion Novel - Volume 1 - Chapter 12

Jeong Taeui, resting his chin on his hand and rubbing his lips with his fingertips, looked at the screen questioningly. Then, in the next moment, he met the man’s eyes. The instant those black eyes stared at him like glass, he felt his heart drop.

He had probably been looking at a recording camera installed on a high wall. He blinked once and then smiled faintly. As the smile spread over his expressionless, seemingly depressed eyes, Jeong Taeui realized that the man might even be younger than him. He had an appearance that made it difficult to guess his age, but a very faint trace of youth remained on his smiling face.

The man tilted his head slightly and moved closer to the camera. Then, he reached out his hand. The screen was completely covered by his black glove.

However, before the screen was entirely filled with black light, his hand paused. Beyond the retreating hand, another man appeared behind him. A man who was quite large for an East Asian.

Seeing the newly appeared man, someone nearby whispered, “Kiyomi.” Jeong Taeui racked his brain, trying to remember where he had heard that name before. He soon realized that this man was the former occupant of the room he was currently using, someone who had been injured in the last training session and was now recuperating in the hospital.

The man named Kiyomi was holding a knife in his hand. It was a dulled knife that couldn’t cut people. Kiyomi’s face was ashen, but he didn’t back down, staring straight at the other man. He seemed to be saying something, but no sound was recorded in the video.

The man calmly approached Kiyomi. He walked without hesitation, neither slowly nor quickly, causing tension to flicker across Kiyomi’s face.

Kiyomi seemed to make a split-second decision. He turned the knife halfway around so the blade pointed downwards and gripped it tightly as he moved close to the man. Then, he swung his other elbow outwards, aiming to strike the man, while raising the hand holding the knife. It was a situation where an opening would be created whether the man was hit by the elbow or if he bent down or moved aside to avoid it.

The man slowed his pace. Then, he reached out and touched the wall beside him, using the tips of his five fingers to push off the wall. Or rather, he propelled himself sideways.

Jeong Taeui stopped rubbing his lips. His gaze had caught something strange.

On the white wall that the man had touched with his fingertips, a black mark remained exactly where his fingers had been. It was as if black liquid had seeped from his black glove and stained the wall.

What was that?

There was no time to think.

Kiyomi’s elbow slammed into the man’s chest. It was a blow that could have easily shattered ribs.

Yet, the man merely furrowed his brow slightly. Even as he did so, his hand shot out and seized Kiyomi’s wrist, which was descending towards him. Seeing the blunt knife Kiyomi held, he gave a thin smile.

The man twisted Kiyomi’s wrist. In the soundless recording, an unheard scream erupted. The knife he had been holding clattered heavily to the floor.

The man tapped his chest twice, belatedly seeming to feel the pain from the blow. However, the face tilting in question was as expressionless as a mannequin.

Jeong Taeui unconsciously clenched his fist. A corner of his chest grew cold. The surroundings were silent, not even a breath could be heard.

The man, holding Kiyomi’s other arm, used one hand to encircle his neck. Kiyomi’s neck fit snugly within the large hand clad in a black glove. The man stroked Kiyomi’s neck for a moment, as if caressing it.

Again. Again, a black trail snaked in the wake of the man’s hand. Across Kiyomi’s neck.

Jeong Taeui frowned, his gaze fixed on the mark. It couldn’t be from rolling in mud, soaking the glove in black muck. What on earth was that…?

Then, it struck him like a sudden realization.

It wasn’t black. That mark was a deep, almost black red. Perhaps even the glove wasn’t truly black. That stark red light that had thoroughly soaked the glove…

The color drained slightly from Jeong Taeui’s face. The moment the identity of that stark red light dawned on him, the man in the video, who had been holding Kiyomi’s neck, positioned his thumb perpendicularly just above the collarbone and then pressed down in one swift motion.

“No way…!”

The words leaked out before he could stop them. But he couldn’t finish the sentence because the stark reality was unfolding before his eyes, and a chill ran down his spine, freezing his tongue.

The finger that had pierced the center of the neck slowly withdrew. That finger was stained with an even deeper hue.

Kiyomi, his eyes rolling back with a milky white, convulsed and then went limp. The man discarded him on the floor without a second glance. He rubbed his chest, then frowned as if displeased before shaking his head and turning away.

Again, he stood facing the camera directly. Jeong Taeui rubbed his chilled lips with his fingertips. His eyes met the man’s in the screen. His face was still pale and indifferent. That face, which had just pierced a person’s neck, looked utterly incapable of such an act, making it all the more chilling.

The man glanced up at the camera for a moment, then suddenly chuckled. Soon, as before, the gloved hand moved in and filled the screen, and with that, the edited video ended.

Another video followed, showing other men grappling, but the man’s last smile was vividly etched in Jeong Taeui’s retina. His chest felt icily cold.

“What the hell is that?”

Jeong Taeui murmured in a voice too faint to be called a soliloquy. A low reply came from beside him.

“That’s that crazy bastard from the European branch. That madman Rick, the one no one in the European branch can handle.”

Tou’s face was also hardened as he replied in a disgusted tone.

“It’s not just the European branch. He’s already notorious as someone to avoid in the headquarters and all the other branches.”

Carlo’s heavy voice came from behind them.

“Riegrow from the European branch. They also call him Madman Rick.”

“Riegrow…”

“Because of that bastard, Kiyomi was lying half-dead with a tube down his throat. We should probably be grateful he was dealt with quickly enough to survive.”

Jeong Taeui, who had been staring at the afterimage of the man in the video that others were now watching, frowned slightly and turned to them.

“Even with that, the organization isn’t taking any action? Even with video evidence like that left behind?!”

Carlo chuckled dryly. It was a bitter, grim laugh.

“Listen, Taei. That, my friend, is ‘training.’ And that was a counterattack by an ‘unarmed trainee’ against a ‘trainee with a weapon.’ What you saw was part of the ‘training’ process. Okay?”

“Well… still, it’s pretty obvious that bastard intentionally went too far and killed him. He doesn’t even try to hide it, so he’s probably been in and out of the confinement cell several times.”

Tou, who had been muttering after Carlo, pointed to the floor as if remembering something and added, “Ah, there’s a confinement cell on the seventh basement level. Once you go in there, you come out looking like skin and bones. Well, it’s understandable if you’re locked up and tormented for days or even months.”

“……In that bastard’s case, wouldn’t the supervising instructor have ended up looking more like skin and bones while he was in there?”

While half-listening and half-ignoring their serious murmurs to each other, Jeong Taeui rubbed his goosebumped arm. That guy… I’ll tear him apart before he tears me apart. No, before that, I want to tear my own mouth first, the one that just said he’d look cute if he smiled.

Jeong Taeui thought he had a decent eye for people, but he completely failed this time.

Now he understands his colleagues’ reactions. Jeong Taeui kept rubbing his arm. His chest still felt cold. His anxiously agitated heart wouldn’t calm down. Those pitch-black eyes he had met across the screen. That snow-white face. Those jet-black gloves. And the blackish-red traces seeping from them.

“……”

“Alright, everyone got a good look? I’ll replay a few points to pay attention to, so watch carefully.”

The instructor at the front lightly tapped the desk and spoke. Then, he started playing the video they had just watched again, this time pausing and rewinding at intervals.

Feeling his heart gradually settle, Jeong Taeui quietly took a deep breath. And then, he slowly watched the videos again.

As a result, Jeong Taeui concluded that running away was the best strategy.

***

The library on the fifth basement level was always deserted. Perhaps because of that, you’d occasionally see guys lying down between the secluded bookshelves, their faces covered by books, fast asleep.

The corner bookshelf where Jeong Taeui usually sat to read was already occupied by some guy sprawled out, so he went to the opposite side and crouched down. There was a spacious six-person desk, but if he sat there to read, invariably one or two familiar faces would come over and bother him. So, he ended up hiding like this to read, but he also figured it was better this way since he could just fall asleep if he got tired.

Jeong Taeui pulled out the book he had found after searching the shelves and opened it. Then, he silently scanned the pages.

However, his quiet and peaceful reading didn’t last long. The member who came all the way into this secluded corner looking for a book was a familiar face.

“Oh.”

At the short greeting, Jeong Taeui merely glanced up. It was Wienho. Ching was visible behind him.

Wienho strode over and lightly tilted the edge of the book Jeong Taeui was holding.

“What are you reading? …The Art of War? This guy reads weird books sometimes. No matter how much you read that stuff, it’s no help in a real fight, you know.”

“Do you know of another book that compiles the Thirty-Six Stratagems so neatly?”

Jeong Taeui replied curtly, shaking the book. As he was about to expound on the theory that classics are masterpieces, Wienho waved his hand dismissively and took a step back, looking bored.

“Yeah, yeah, read hard. The instructor in charge of strategy will really dote on you when you discuss strategic theories.”

Jeong Taeui briefly thought of his uncle, who was in charge of strategy, but immediately snorted inwardly, thinking, ‘No way.’ His uncle wasn’t the type to favor model students. If anything, he tended to show interest in slightly odd individuals. That person was also quite unconventional.

“But why the Thirty-Six Stratagems all of a sudden? Planning to run away from someone?”

“Hmm… after watching that training video yesterday, I figured that’s the only way I can save my own skin. If you don’t have the confidence to win a fight, you should at least be good at reading the situation and running away to prolong your pathetic life by even a day.”

Wienho and Ching, thinking Jeong Taeui’s nonchalant words were a joke, laughed as if amused.

“There are opponents it works on and opponents it doesn’t. It’s not like it works on just anyone… Hmm. Well, you do seem like the type who could survive even if thrown into the deep jungle and come back alive.”

Ching nodded and murmured, and Wienho also nodded in agreement.

Jeong Taeui wondered how his image had plummeted so much in just a few days, but he didn’t feel like denying it, so he just shrugged. He also had a fleeting thought that perhaps this was the kind of intuition his uncle had talked about.

In a very short moment, he could make a judgment. What was the best course of action, what was the best he could do within his capabilities, what should he give up and what should he gain to be most efficient, he could quickly assess by gauging the opponent and himself.

But when faced with a monstrous madman, it was best to abandon pride and gain practical benefits. In other words, just run away the moment you encounter him.

“But still… it doesn’t say how to run away most effectively.”

Jeong Taeui flipped through the pages of the book, muttering to himself. As expected, the two guys laughed, taking it as a joke.

Staring at their faces creased with such carefree laughter, a sudden urge to lightly tap their cheeks to death with the book in his hand arose. Jeong Taeui glanced back and forth between the book and their faces, but he couldn’t carry out his impulse because his pager vibrated in his pocket at just the right moment.

Closing the book and pulling out the pager, Jeong Taeui tilted his head slightly at the unfamiliar number. It was an internal branch line, but the number was new. He had roughly memorized the numbers of all the instructors who had paged him so far.

“Number 07, where is that?”

Jeong Taeui stared intently at the pager in his hand with a serious expression and suddenly blurted out the question. “Huh?” Ching, who was next to him, craned his neck and looked at the pager. There was no reason to hide it, but Jeong Taeui instinctively moved away, pocketing the pager. “What’s the big deal?” Ching grumbled as he answered.

“07… let me see. Floor 7 of the main building… that would be… the administration office, I guess.”

“The administration office? Why would they call me there…?”

Jeong Taeui frowned and muttered, then suddenly shut his mouth. He stared intently at Ching, blinking. Ching seemed uncomfortable under his gaze and subtly backed away.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“…Oh… could you put this back on the shelf for me?”

Jeong Taeui abruptly stood up, shoved the book into Ching’s hands, and immediately dashed out from between the bookshelves. He heard a few “Hey, wait?” sounds from behind him, but he ignored them and ran out of the reading room.

This idiotic memory of mine. Right, if they didn’t contact me yesterday, then today must be it! Did you already forget that you went to sleep last night feeling disappointed, Jeong Taeui?

While waiting for the elevator that was stopped on the first floor to come down, he felt like he was wasting precious time and bolted up the stairs. He ran all the way from the fifth basement level to the ground floor without even noticing he was out of breath.

Reaching the ground floor in one go, Jeong Taeui patted his pounding chest and walked towards the administration office. Regular hours were already over, so usually only the duty officer, Kyoho, would be left inside.

He took a deep breath in front of the door—unaware that his uncle would later clutch his stomach laughing at this scene captured by the recording camera—and knocked. A sound came from inside, and he opened the door.

Xinlu was the only one left in the administration office. He smiled brightly when he saw Jeong Taeui.

“Taei hyung, you’re here.”

“Yeah. …Just you?”

“Yes, I’m on duty today. …Were you busy?”

“Nah, I had so much free time I was reading a book in the library. It was getting annoying with the interruptions anyway, so I rushed over as soon as I got the call. If you’re on duty, you can’t leave, can you?”

“No. Originally, Kippen Gyoho-nim was supposed to be on duty, but he suddenly had a severe stomachache, so it was changed. So, it looks like our walk today will be difficult. I’m sorry, hyung.”

Xinlu lowered his head apologetically and whispered. Jeong Taeui continued, “No, it’s nothing. Is Kippen really sick?” while inwardly feeling disappointed. Ah, so it was a cancellation.

Even though he tried not to show it, Jeong Taeui’s expression must have been too obvious. Xinlu glanced at Jeong Taeui, hesitated, then smiled awkwardly and continued, “But anyway, there isn’t much work today, I just have to stay here… Would you like to sit down and have some tea? Deputy Director Jangtil brought some good tea back with him recently. If you’re not busy, please sit down for a bit, hyung.”

“Oh, really? I don’t have anything urgent. …Yeah, what kind of tea is it?”

“Gimun. Do you like it?”

“Haven’t tried it. Green tea?”

“No, it’s black tea… it has a lovely fragrance. I’ll get it for you right away, please try some.”

Xinlu busily went into the inner room. The sound of water and clinking dishes came from inside.

Jeong Taeui hesitated, then peeked through the slightly open door of the inner room. Seeing the recording camera installed in the corner of the administration office as always, he quietly took a seat.

Right, there’s no particular reason to go for a walk. Going outside, walking along the beach, and looking at the sky and the sea would have been nice, but being with Xinlu was more important. If they could be together, what did it matter if it was indoors? They could quietly drink tea and chat.

Soon, Xinlu came out of the inner room carrying a tray. The tray with the teacups looked precarious, so Jeong Taeui quickly stood up and took it from him. The smiling face saying, “Thank you,” was also lovely.

Just as his uncle had said, perhaps his taste really hadn’t changed. The second person to make his heart pound like this since birth was also such a lovely and beautiful young man.

“Have you gotten used to things here now? It must be very tough, right?”

Xinlu asked, sitting down across from Jeong Taeui. Jeong Taeui, who had adapted a little too well, wondered what he meant for a moment, then realized he was talking about the fact that he hadn’t been here long. “Ah, right,” he nodded.

It would be a lie to say it wasn’t tough. In fact, once the regular work hours from 8 AM to 5 PM were over, he was free to do whatever he wanted. No one would bother him whether he drank, smoked, or stayed cooped up in his room. So, the schedule itself was much more relaxed than when he was in the military.

However, the work during regular hours was quite demanding. It felt like he had to accomplish tasks that used to take twice the time in less than half the time. There were various processes to learn, and the colleagues he was competing with in those processes were all top talents from outside, so facing competition with them was no easy feat.