Passion Novel - Volume 3 - Chapter 67

Hesitating for a moment, he slowly reached out and placed his hand on Ilay’s forehead. It was hot. So hot that it made him wonder if it would be better to take his temperature. Yet, Ilay lay with his eyes closed, quietly and peacefully, not looking like someone suffering from such a high fever. His remarkably pale complexion made him look like a ghost now, but other than that, he could have been mistaken for simply being asleep.

‘It’s a poison strong enough to make you worry about the life of someone who’s a bit weak. Well, a monster like him probably won’t die, but still, check on him occasionally. Let me know if you find him cold and lifeless at some point, so I can contact the body disposal team.’

The nonchalantly muttering medic, Gyoho, who had frowned at the corners of his mouth, flashed through his mind. Even if a monster of this caliber wouldn’t die, he was still human, so it was only natural that he wouldn’t be completely fine. It was also natural for him to have such a high fever and be unable to move, lying still. Perhaps he should even feel grateful, thinking, ‘He was human after all,’ just by seeing this much of a reaction. When he thought about it, would there ever be another day in his life when he’d see this man lying there with such a raging fever, looking like he was on the verge of death?

“See, that’s why you shouldn’t make so many enemies. I knew something like this would happen someday.”

He wondered if an antipyretic was needed, but it was a similar situation earlier in the afternoon, and he had already given him one. Giving more than the prescribed dosage wouldn’t be a good idea. In that case, if Ilay could just get up and move around a bit, his body might function properly and find some balance, but looking at him lying there with his eyes closed like a dead man, it seemed utterly impossible for him to get up and move.

“Hey… why don’t you wake up and have a few spoonfuls of gruel…?”

He quietly tried to speak to him, just in case, but as expected, there was no response. It seemed his consciousness had completely faded. At a time like this, if some villain were to come in and swing a knife, he’d be a goner. But it was strange that this guy left the door unlocked, and it was also a bit sad for the numerous villain candidates downstairs who were missing this golden opportunity. Anyway, Jeong Taeui, who had no intention of becoming the villain himself and swinging a knife, grumbled, ‘Looks like he’ll just have to overcome it with his own strength,’ while filling a plastic bag with ice, wrapping it in a thin towel, and placing it on Ilay’s forehead. If any of his colleagues had seen him, they would have told him to just soak the towel and cover his whole face. If he did that, Jeong Taeui would instantly be treated like a hero, receiving cheers instead of complaints from his colleagues.

However, those damn colleagues were just annoying these days. Jeong Taeui took off his upper garment and tossed it aside carelessly, then went into the bathroom. The instructor’s room having an attached bathroom was the only good thing about it. As he took off his pants, his gaze suddenly fell on the full-length mirror in front of the shower booth. This guy’s face was getting more colorful by the day. The mottled coloring made his face look like a canvas. Bruises would just about fade when he’d get beaten again, and wounds would just about heal when they’d get torn again, so his face never had a clean day. It had been like this lately, so he was even forgetting what his own face looked like.

Jeong Taeui sighed deeply as the hot water streamed over his head. At any rate, he had finished his regular duties for the day. Another day was over, so when he returned to his room, he would have to put another cross on the calendar. But surely, when Jeong Taeui returned to his room, slept for a night, and came back toMorow morning, this man wouldn’t have turned into a cold corpse on the bed, still in the same state, would he? He was sick without showing it, and it wouldn’t be strange if he died without anyone noticing at some point.

Ilay Riegrow’s death.

He quietly murmured the words to himself and thought there couldn’t be a more mismatched combination of words. Could death really befall that monstrous man? Moreover, if it was a death from a villain’s poison, a death so meaningless, it would be unexpectedly unexpected.

He wondered if he would really die like that, but when would he get up? Even though he was a man who only posed a threat to others when alive and moving, there were many subtle inconveniences with him lying there. Aside from his current position as an instructor, there seemed to be quite a few difficulties in helping with the family business.

Jeong Taeui, too, would certainly feel more at ease if this man died, but there were also times when he would feel more at ease if he lived.

“At least, I don’t wish for him to die…”

Jeong Taeui rinsed off the soap suds, and as the moisture evaporated from his skin, he shivered from the coolness, then wrapped a bath towel around his head and exited the bathroom. The heated room was much warmer than the bathroom. After drying off his body first, Jeong Taeui rubbed his head with the towel and approached the bed again. The gruel on the bedside table was still there, and Ilay’s posture hadn’t changed.

“Hey. When are you going to wake up? …It’s strange to see you looking like you’re at death’s door.”

Jeong Taeui muttered to himself, draping the towel he had been using to dry his hair around his neck. If everything had its proper form, then this man looked much more fitting twisting someone else’s neck than lying here, regardless of whether it was right or wrong in terms of social justice.

“Speaking of strange, you, who come and go from my room defenselessly, are by no means ordinary.”

A low voice flowed out languidly. Jeong Taeui flinched, unconsciously gripping the towel, and looked down at Ilay, who remained motionless with his eyes still closed. He remained like a block of wood, as if he hadn’t spoken a word just now.

It had been three days.

The heavily hoarse voice was incomparably faint and low compared to what Jeong Taeui remembered, but it was undoubtedly Ilay’s voice.

“What? When did you wake up?”

“…”

“If you’re awake, at least have some gruel. I boiled it thinly, so you can just drink it.”

But there was no answer. His eyes remained closed, and his face was still pale, making Jeong Taeui wonder if he had misheard him earlier.

“Hey… Ilay.”

Jeong Taeui quietly called his name. He gently bent over his head, looking down at him from about two spans above. His face, even paler than usual, only offered quiet breaths occasionally.

“Are you in a position to talk about someone defenselessly coming and going into the room of a guy who’s lying here powerless and knocked out?”

“What happened to that guy?”

He hadn’t misheard him. Motionless and with his eyes still closed, only his lips moved for a moment, but a voice clearly came out. Although it sounded languid and tired, it was surprisingly clear and distinct.

Jeong Taeui pondered for a moment. He soon realized what he was asking. The first thing he asked upon waking up, before even checking on himself, was about the guy who stabbed him—it was so typical of him that Jeong Taeui sighed.

“His eye was damaged, so he left for Hong Kong. They said he probably won’t go blind, but it’s still dangerous. I haven’t heard from him since then, but he probably won’t be able to come back.”

“Really? Then I’ll have to find him later.”

“…What for?”

“I’ll have to stab him in the side too. With a knife soaked in poison.”

The voice, languid as if heavy with sleep, muttered flatly as if telling a dream. Hearing that, Jeong Taeui was speechless, thinking, He may be a bit weak, but he’s still the same old guy.

“If you want to do that, how about you regain some strength first? You must have been living on IVs for three days straight, so you probably have no strength at all. How about at least moistening your lips with some gruel?”

Still, it was somewhat reassuring to hear the guy who had been hovering between life and death speak. Jeong Taeui thought, as he sat on the edge of the bed, that perhaps, unexpectedly, he had wished for this man to live. Suddenly, Ilay’s hand came into view at the corner of his eye. His exceedingly pale hand, appearing bluish under the dim light, rested palm-up on the blanket. The fingertips of that hand were twitching, slightly, slightly. Watching only his fingertips occasionally move irregularly, with no other movement, gave him a strange feeling. It was as if only his fingers were alive.

Ah.

Jeong Taeui nodded. He seemed to know what he was doing. He was assessing his condition.

“You’ve been lying in bed without moving for days, can you even move properly? I wonder if your muscles are stiff.”

Jeong Taeui said, lightly flicking his moving fingertips. Ilay let out a small, airy chuckle. A semblance of a smile lingered around his lips for a moment before disappearing.

“Well… I definitely have less strength than usual. It feels like it’d be hard to even lift a spoon. Since you brought the gruel anyway, why don’t you feed it to me?”

His consciousness seemed to have fully returned now, as he spoke quite well, but his voice lacked its usual strength. It wasn’t about to give out, but it was tired and strained.

Jeong Taeui frowned, seemingly reluctant, and pondered for a moment. But as he looked down at Ilay, who lay with his eyes closed and a bloodless face, he sighed, ‘Hmm,’ and picked up the bowl of gruel.

“Yes, yes. The instructor speaks, and the powerless adjutant must obediently obey.”

Moro’s words, something about sticking one’s head into a tiger’s mouth, fleetingly crossed his mind, but seeing him on the verge of death, he loosened his grip on his emotional reins a little. He wasn’t unaware that a tiger was still a tiger even when dying, but if things went south, he’d use all his might to shove that pale face into the gruel bowl and run. He’d probably have to flee from this island itself and escape to some remote corner.

Thinking such thoughts, Jeong Taeui sighed again. It wasn’t a joke. If he hadn’t known that this man’s complexion was normally this pale, he would have truly thought a corpse was lying there. It was only because it was this man that he said, ‘He’s a bit weaker than usual’; if it had been himself, who hadn’t eaten properly for days and was laid up with a high fever—still feverish now—he would have undoubtedly said, ‘It wouldn’t be strange if I died right now.’

When Jeong Taeui picked up the gruel bowl and looked back, Ilay opened his eyes as if on cue. His deep, endlessly dark eyes, like gaping holes, stared at the ceiling for a while before slowly turning downwards to look at Jeong Taeui. It was eerie, like a wax doll whose eyes alone moved.

“…Your face is too bloodless. People would believe you if you said you were a vampire.”

When Jeong Taeui said this bluntly, Ilay laughed. This time, he laughed a little longer than before.

“Right, is that why you’re being so cautious, afraid I might bite your neck?”

“Me?”

“No?”

“…What would you do if you were me?”

He considered bluffing and saying no for a moment, but a tiger is still a tiger, even when dying. Thinking about what would happen after that monster fully recovered if he messed around now, it was best to just watch his mouth. Ilay laughed again.

“Sometimes you act much more wisely than I do. Like now.”

Meaning: it’s a good thing I didn’t mess around.

Jeong Taeui didn’t feel praised even after being praised, so he bitterly stirred the gruel with his spoon. Then, suddenly, Ilay’s hand came into view. The hand that had only been twitching its fingers was now slowly clenching and unclenching its fist. Still, with an air of weakness about it, Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue and scooped up a spoonful of gruel. A faint steam rose from it, but it seemed quite cool. He tasted a bit; it was just the right temperature.

“Perfect. Here.”

Jeong Taeui held the clear gruel up to Ilay. Ilay’s eyes, which had been fixed on Jeong Taeui since he opened them, curved faintly.

“I know seven ways to poison only one person even if they eat from the same dish.”

Jeong Taeui paused at his slow murmur. Before he could think that Ilay must be truly sick to be spouting such uncharacteristic nonsense, a surge of irritation welled up in him.

This bastard, what is he saying right now…?

Jeong Taeui looked at Ilay, openly displaying his extreme displeasure. He pulled back the spoon he had been holding out to him. His voice spontaneously hardened.

“If I had wanted to kill you, in this situation, I would have had you killed three days ago by someone else’s hand without dirtying my own. Or if I thought I didn’t care if you died, I wouldn’t have bothered cooking this gruel myself; I would’ve just asked anyone to do it.”

“…Aha. That means you wish for me not to die…?”

“I did, up until thirty seconds ago. I actually quite liked you, you know.”

“They call this ingratitude, don’t they?” Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue, a thought surfacing in a corner of his mind. He had just heard the kind of words that made one feel most unpleasant when heard from others. Who would like hearing their goodwill thrown into the mud, let alone someone else’s affection?

Come to think of it, this was the kind of man who could casually toss not just goodwill but even affection into the gutter. Yet, with his characteristic shrewdness, he hadn’t openly voiced such thoughts before, so it was clear the fever was making him slightly delirious.

“When you feel better, eat it yourself or throw it away,” Jeong Taeui muttered, placing the gruel bowl down and getting up from the bed.

But then, a hand gripped his wrist, stopping him. The hand that had been slowly clenching and unclenching its fist with apparent difficulty just moments ago now held his wrist with surprising strength, making Jeong Taeui flinch. He turned his head to find black eyes, whose thoughts were unreadable, calmly gazing at him. Perhaps the look was a little troubled, or even regretful, as if he had made a mistake.

“…”

His lips, which had parted slightly as if to speak, paused, finding no suitable words, then closed again. Jeong Taeui momentarily forgot his displeasure at this unexpected sight he had never seen from Ilay Riegrow. Could this inhuman bastard actually be having human thoughts?

Jeong Taeui lowered his gaze to look at the large hand gripping his wrist. It seemed weak, but it was surprisingly difficult to shake off. Jeong Taeui stared intently at the hand, then shifted his gaze to Ilay. Still wearing a troubled expression, Ilay sighed soundlessly and released his hand.

“I misspoke. I made a mistake. …Don’t go. If I don’t eat this gruel right now, I feel like I’m going to die.”

“…So?”

“…I’m sorry, Taei.”

This man was clearly out of his mind because of the high fever. His voice was a bit languid, but distinct enough that Jeong Taeui thought he had regained consciousness, but that wasn’t the case. This man’s rationality was undoubtedly still wandering somewhere beyond the chaos of his consciousness.

Jeong Taeui tried hard to maintain his expressionless face and silently picked up the gruel bowl. He even suspected that perhaps his own ears had gone awry from catching the fever. He gently brought the spoon filled with gruel to Ilay’s lips. Ilay obediently opened his mouth and drank the gruel. Seeing him so docile was so unexpected that Jeong Taeui felt an ominous chill. But on the other hand, it wasn’t bad.

“It’s bland.”

Ilay slowly swallowed, then muttered after enough time had passed for the taste to register.

“If you eat something salty in your current state and unluckily get dehydrated on top of it, even you would really die.”

“Ah, even me.”

Ilay smiled subtly. Jeong Taeui secretly felt a jolt of realization but didn’t show it, quickly spooning the gruel and practically forcing it into his mouth. His intention was to somehow shut him up, but Ilay, who silently drank the second spoonful of gruel, didn’t forget to continue speaking.

“Do I look like I won’t die?”

“Well… if you can talk this coherently even with such a high fever, at least you probably won’t be hovering between life and death from it.”

Jeong Taeui, holding the empty spoon, lightly touched the back of his hand to Ilay’s forehead and withdrew it. The heat, still far above normal, was palpable. With this much fever, most people would be semi-comatose, out of their minds, only occasionally rambling nonsense. Indeed, he was extraordinary. An extraordinary man.

“Ah.”

Just as he was about to scoop the third spoonful of gruel, Ilay suddenly murmured. Jeong Taeui only lifted his gaze to look at Ilay. Ilay closed his eyes and said quietly.

“One more time.”

“Huh?”

“Your hand feels nice and cool. I’m a bit hot right now.”

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at Ilay. Then he put down the spoon and placed the back of his hand on his forehead again. Jeong Taeui’s hand was on the warmer side, but Ilay’s forehead was definitely much hotter.

“Should I go make a new ice pack?”

“No, your hand is better. It’s cool and soft….Lukewarm. The other hand.”

“Yes, yes, feel free to use me as your personal human cooler,” Jeong Taeui put the gruel bowl back down and placed his other hand on Ilay’s forehead. Ilay, with his eyes closed, calmly let Jeong Taeui’s hand rest on his forehead for a moment, then at some point, he slightly lifted his head. And he pressed his cheek against Jeong Taeui’s hand. His cheek was also hot. Jeong Taeui’s gaze was fixed on him, finding it so strange that he was so pale despite being this hot.

Suddenly, Ilay opened his eyes. When their black eyes met, Jeong Taeui’s body stiffened for no reason.

“While I was gone.”

“…?”

“Did the powerless Instructor Jeong get along well? By the looks of your face, you seem to have gotten into a serious fight with someone again. Who is it this time?”

Ilay’s gaze swept over the area around Jeong Taeui’s temples. Not just his temples, but his entire face was covered in bruises. It was nothing new.

“If you know who it is, will you, the instructor, avenge the powerless adjutant? The fear of future repercussions from repaying a fist-debt with a life is too great for me to speak. Well… I wish I could have rested while the instructor was comatose and out of his mind, but unfortunately, I couldn’t. I was busy checking on your condition every hour, in case you died. I watched you to see if you would live or die without proper sleep.”

“Haha. For three days straight… It’s not a job for an adjutant either.”

“If you put it that way, it’s wrong from the start to make friends with someone whose life is constantly under threat from all directions.”

Jeong Taeui, realizing how ridiculous his own words sounded, briefly looked up at the ceiling, then shook his head. Friendship, my foot. Relationships were two-way streets. Even if Jeong Taeui considered it a connection, if the other person didn’t, then there was no relationship to begin with.