Passion Novel - Volume 3 - Chapter 72 - Omen

“The guys from the South American branch are a bit strange in the head, the African branch guys are unpredictable, the Australian branch guys are quite unlucky, and the European branch bastards are unbelievably unlucky.”

Uncle had once said this with a cheerful tone, not long before the joint training with Europe. At least his words about Europe weren’t wrong. While it was certainly a judgment colored by personal feelings, the European branch bastards were undeniably unlucky to a fault.

Couldn’t one immediately pick out prime examples of this around them? Then, would his words about South America, Africa, or Australia also hold true? That much remained unknown. Perhaps he’d never know about the African or Australian branches. Jeong Taeui would be leaving UNHRDO not long after the joint training with South America ended, after all. These days, he just kept hoping he’d be able to face that day in one piece.

“The South American branch, huh. Those guys are indeed a bit strange in the head. South Americans do have a bit of that going on, don’t they? Can’t you tell by watching them play soccer? Hot-headed with a flower blooming in their minds, exactly.”

Hearing Carlo’s words, Jeong Taeui clapped his knee and nodded. Ah, so that’s what “strange in the head” meant. It was a terribly racist remark, but it suddenly made perfect sense. Though, if those hot-headed people with flowers in their minds heard it, they’d probably be furious.

From his diagonal front seat, Alta frowned and muttered darkly, “South America… I have a bit of a grudge against those guys. During last year’s joint training, a South American guy who used my room broke the bamboo pillow I’d put aside. Just let that bastard come here this time. I’ve been waiting for him since last year.”

“If that guy comes here and you go to Australia, holding a grudge won’t do you any good,” Tou said, stating the extremely obvious, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears for Alta.

“Well, after tonight’s lottery, we’ll know what happens to Alta. We’ll have to see who comes from their side, though.”

“I’m telling you, settling grudges isn’t easy.”

“Plus, if you’re unlucky, trying to settle a grudge might just lead to a bigger one. Ching was like that, remember? It was fine that he met the guy who beat him up in a spar again, but when he tried to throw him to get revenge, he couldn’t handle the guy’s weight, stumbled, and got pinned instead.”

“Ah, I remember that. That’s when he sprained his ankle and limped around for a while, right?”

Even though a lecture was ongoing, hushed giggling could be heard from all over. From a distance, Ching, who heard the noise, barked something, but no one paid him any mind.

Jeong Taeui chuckled to himself.

As the joint training with South America approached, Jeong Taeui felt much more at ease. Not for any other reason, but when an external enemy approaches, people naturally band together internally. So, his usually bickering colleagues were now burning with fighting spirit, with no time to target him.

Yes, yes, this is good. If they don’t needlessly turn on me until the joint training ends, I’ll be comfortable. Plus, once the training is over, this rough ride will end too.

Jeong Taeui nodded with a satisfied feeling. Moreover, he could tell from the atmosphere that the joint training with South America was incomparable to the previous one with Europe. Back then, as the training approached, people were on edge, looking grim, but this time, they were burning with a healthy fighting spirit, like before an official sports day. While they were undoubtedly rival competitors and no “long time no see, glad to see you” greetings were exchanged, compared to Europe, South America was practically a bosom buddy.

“Hey, you over there. Don’t go breaking a bone for nothing; focus on the materials,” the instructor said sternly from the front, having apparently heard the murmuring. The members pretended to be quiet and turned their attention back to the video materials displayed. Jeong Taeui also watched the materials with a comfortable mind. Even after watching from beginning to end, he didn’t see any lunatics like Ilay. Everyone fought with combat power that didn’t stray from the realm of normal people. Jeong Taeui felt warmth in his heart watching them fiercely fight within normal parameters.

Tonight, they would draw lots to see who would leave and who would stay. And after tomorrow, on Sunday, the South American branch members would arrive. Jeong Taeui didn’t need to draw lots. A adjutant follows his instructor. If his direct instructor leaves, he leaves with him; if he stays, he stays. Even on business trips, they usually went together. For this training, Ilay would remain here. Naturally, Jeong Taeui would also remain. Jeong Taeui looked at the instructor, who sat beside the screen, staring at it with an impassive face.

“You stay here. And please help McKin a bit.”

Jeong Taeui looked at him, recalling his uncle’s words. He didn’t have much to talk about with McKin—or anyone else, for that matter. He didn’t know what kind of person he was. He was just an instructor and a subordinate.

His uncle had said that he should help him when he asked for it, but would he really ask Jeong Taeui for help? He didn’t know what his uncle had whispered to him, but he couldn’t guess what kind of help he might ask for. However, if it was a matter of finding a tight-lipped subordinate, it wasn’t incomprehensible, though it didn’t matter who it was. Plus, someone who was scheduled to leave the branch soon might be easier to use. He just hoped it would be an easy task that didn’t require much effort.

“Now that I think about it,” Jeong Taeui turned his head at the subtly audible voice beside him. Carlo rested his chin on his hand, looking forward, and slightly tilted his body towards Jeong Taeui, muttering to himself, “Xinlu seemed to be thinking about quitting UNHRDO… Did you two fight?”

Jeong Taeui, who had been listening with his gaze fixed forward like Carlo, paused. Then he slowly turned his head and stared blankly at him. This was news to him.

Carlo glanced at Jeong Taeui, and seeing that he, too, was hearing it for the first time, raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Well, I don’t know much either. I just happened to overhear it while passing by when I went to the office for something. I might have misheard.”

Carlo made a reluctant face, as if regretting having spoken, but soon waved his hand and spoke. Jeong Taeui continued to stare at him, muttering, “Quit? Why?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I just vaguely heard something like that and asked if you knew; I don’t.”

Carlo clicked his tongue. Jeong Taeui stared blankly at Carlo with a bewildered face, but he pretended not to see him, not even glancing his way. Xinlu was thinking about quitting. Jeong Taeui had never heard such a thing. He’d never shown any sign of it either. He was flustered, hearing something he hadn’t even considered. Tap, tap, his fingers nervously drummed on the desk out of habit.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t had a slow conversation with Xinlu recently. No, he realized now, he hadn’t even told Xinlu that he was going to leave UNHRDO after the South American training. The moment he realized this, Jeong Taeui was flabbergasted at himself. He was in no position to be surprised by the news that Xinlu might quit. It had been so obvious to him that he’d simply forgotten to mention it, but now he saw that he hadn’t told Xinlu that he was also planning to quit this place.

Jeong Taeui scratched his head as if tearing at it.

There was nothing good about announcing to everyone that he’d only be here for a short time, but at least he should have told Xinlu. That was common courtesy to someone he was “dating”—though it was a bit ambiguous whether they actually were or not. He’d have to tell Xinlu when he met him. After that, he’d also have to ask him about the comment that he seemed to be considering quitting. Somehow, it suddenly felt like a mountain of difficult problems needed to be solved.

***

“It seems like Rudolph is pretty much decided as the next head of operations.”

Jeong Taeui was sipping water when Ilay suddenly spoke, as if something had just occurred to him. Jeong Taeui, who was deep in thought about wanting to drink beer, which he hadn’t seen for days, rather than water, glanced at Ilay.

“It’s far from decided yet. Wasn’t it supposed to be a comprehensive evaluation after the South American training and all the cleanup?”

Jeong Taeui tilted his head and asked, wondering about his words that differed from what he had heard. If Rudolph Gentil became the head, Jeong Taeui wouldn’t mind it. In fact, it didn’t matter to Jeong Taeui whether the next head of operations went to Rudolph Gentil or Maori, but since his uncle served Rudolph, he was only slightly biased towards Rudolph. If the next head of operations was appointed as Ilay said, Jeong Taeui would no longer have a reason to be tied to this place, which was a good thing. The day Jeong Taeui could leave this place was not far off now. As his uncle had said, the head of operations would be appointed around the time the joint training with the South American branch ended and the cleanup was complete, and then Jeong Taeui would have fulfilled the term his uncle spoke of and could leave this place. Ilay, as if accustomed to it, casually scanned Jeong Taeui’s bookshelf, whose book list he already knew by heart, and said nonchalantly,

“On the surface, yes. But if you look at the interim evaluations, Rudolph has the upper hand. Unless something significant happens during this joint training, the results won’t change.”

“Really?”

He added, “That’s good for Uncle,” then suddenly Jeong Taeui looked at Ilay cautiously. Come to think of it, wasn’t this man under Maori? If Rudolph became the head, it would naturally be difficult for Ilay, who was aligned with Maori, to move up.

Jeong Taeui covered his mouth with a book, thought for a moment, then quietly asked, “That wouldn’t be very good for you then, would it? It’ll hinder your career advancement.”

“Hmm?”

Ilay, who had been scanning the bookshelf, stared blankly at Jeong Taeui for a moment, as if he hadn’t understood his words. A few seconds later, he laughed, “Ah, career advancement. Yes, that’s true. While I’m in this branch, it’ll probably be difficult to move up past instructor. If you don’t pick the right side, it’s nothing to waste a few years.”

Ilay spoke nonchalantly, as if talking about someone else. Jeong Taeui muttered, “What? I guess it doesn’t really matter to him.” Ilay didn’t confirm, only laughed aloud at whatever he found amusing. Hearing that laugh, Jeong Taeui scrunched up his lips. He must have asked a stupid question. Of course, for someone born with a silver spoon in their mouth, a paltry promotion wouldn’t mean much. If he thought about it, hadn’t this guy already secured a position in his brother’s company?

“Well, career advancement isn’t that important anyway. Especially since ability and success don’t always go hand in hand.”

Jeong Taeui said dryly, lifting his book to block his displeased face from Ilay’s view.

“You’re right about that. No matter how capable a person is, it’s hard to get ahead if they’re not given the right conditions. And those conditions aren’t always obtained through one’s own efforts alone.”

Ilay’s voice fell from in front of the bookshelf, approaching step by step. Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue.

“If a person’s ability and their position in society were proportional, the world would look vastly different from now. Perhaps you would have become the brother of a dictator who rules this world.”

“The brother of a dictator… My brother? That’s not a matter of ability and success; it’s a matter of personality. I don’t think that would happen even if he died and came back to life.”

Jeong Taeui muttered, thinking of his brother, who, if judged by his abilities, might truly be at the top of the world, but would run away even if such a position were given to him for free, due to his personality. In the meantime, Ilay, who had approached right in front of Jeong Taeui, grabbed the book covering Jeong Taeui’s face and lifted it away. Their eyes met. Jeong Taeui instinctively frowned. Ilay’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh. To frown the moment our eyes meet, that’s too much. You shouldn’t be so blatant.”

“Put yourself in my shoes and think if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

Jeong Taeui grumbled sullenly. Not much time had passed since that day he barely survived dying. The memories of those few days were vivid: lying motionless in bed, then barely dragging his legs to the bathroom or rummaging through the fridge, only to find even that too difficult and collapse back into bed. Even now, recalling that time made a surge of anger well up in his chest. Momentarily, a convulsive thought of “I should just kill that bastard to feel satisfied” would appear and then vanish. Who wouldn’t frown if they were in Jeong Taeui’s position? No, Jeong Taeui even thought his own character had reached perfection, seeing himself grumble, “Damn, he really trampled me hard,” and then casually let it go. If Ilay had been in his position—he was afraid to even imagine—the opponent would have disappeared without even leaving a trace of bone dust.

He had every right to be furious. After that, Ilay hadn’t changed at all. He showed no signs of apology or embarrassment. And of course, he didn’t become any sweeter. It felt like someone who brushed shoulders with you and casually said, “Oh, did we bump? Sorry,” was more genuinely apologetic.

Jeong Taeui genuinely thought for a moment. Perhaps his own personality had been terribly messed up without him even knowing it. Since people often didn’t know their own personalities well, it was possible. He kept thinking that maybe his uncle, unable to bear seeing it, had called him here for character development.

Was I really that incomplete as a person…?

Now, after leaving here, he felt he could even love Lieutenant Kim with a sky-like heart.

“…It’s quiet.”

As Jeong Taeui was seriously contemplating embracing religion in repentance for his past, he heard Ilay, who had burst into Jeong Taeui’s room unannounced and settled down, mutter abruptly. Ilay was taking his last break before the joint training. Hearing that, Jeong Taeui also briefly paid attention to the outside.

It wasn’t completely silent. The sixth floor was much more crowded than the first floor, where the instructors lived. Compared to being in his uncle’s or Ilay’s room, it was quite bustling now.

However, it was definitely quieter than usual. That was because half the people had left. The night before last, after the lottery, half of the members left the island yesterday morning. They were probably waiting in Canberra to enter the Australian branch now.

“Yeah, I guess it’s because there are half the usual number of people.”

Jeong Taeui nodded and replied. Perhaps it was even more so because guys like Alta, who were notoriously loud, had all gone to Australia. Poor Alta. He had been relishing his grudge over the bamboo pillow so much.

“Now that I think about it,” Ilay suddenly began, as if something just occurred to him. When Jeong Taeui looked back at him curiously, he was pointing at the desk calendar.

“Wasn’t your birthday a few days ago?”

“Huh? Oh…—”

He had forgotten. Only after hearing that did Jeong Taeui realize his birthday had passed recently. A few days ago… now that he thought about it, he had spent his entire birthday this year lying in bed. It was the day after that damn bastard had done him in.

Jeong Taeui, checking the date on the calendar, felt uneasy. Another surge of resentment welled up, but since he couldn’t keep digging up the same old story, he just let out a displeased groan and shut his mouth.

“So, did you hear anything?”

Whether he knew about Jeong Taeui’s resentment or not, Ilay suddenly said something baffling. Jeong Taeui looked at him bewilderedly and tilted his head.

“Hear anything? About what…? Oh, oh, right. Yes, thank you. I did hear from them. The suit should be ready next week. I refused when the shop manager offered to deliver it personally. I told him I’d pick it up later. After all, outsiders can’t come here anyway.”

He added, “It’s a burden if they bring it themselves, unlike a regular delivery,” but this time, Ilay frowned, looking bewildered. Then, as if understanding what Jeong Taeui was talking about, he mumbled, “Ah,” but his furrowed brows remained.

“No, not about the suit,” he muttered like a sigh, rubbing his wrinkled forehead with a pale hand. “I mean a call, a call, from Jeong Jaei. You said you usually contact each other around your birthdays.”

“Jaeui hyung? No, I haven’t heard from him.”

Jeong Taeui shrugged and shook his head. Now that he thought about it, that was true. There had been no contact. While they hadn’t explicitly promised to call on their birthdays, it had been an unspoken agreement that they would always seek each other out on such days. Even if they forgot on the day itself, they would usually contact each other within a few days around it. It was like that when they lived together, and it was like that when they lived apart for school or work.

“I wonder if he won’t contact me this year… Hearing that makes me miss him. I wonder where he is now.”

Jeong Taeui mumbled, looking up at the ceiling. It would be nice if he could contact him first, but he had no way of knowing where he was. He could only wait for contact.

Jeong Taeui, who had been blankly thinking of his twin brother, suddenly felt a gaze and subtly shifted his eyes. Ilay was staring at him intently from beside him, with eyes that were inexplicably heavy.

“…”

Ah, he thought. He had no particular basis for it, but he realized it. Ilay was slightly disappointed right now. Probably about the fact that there had been no contact from Jeong Jaeui. He didn’t know if it was simple curiosity or another reason, but he had been waiting for news from Jeong Jaeui.

When Jeong Taeui stared at him, Ilay slightly raised an eyebrow. He probably realized it too—that Jeong Taeui had discerned his true feelings.

Perhaps a little embarrassed, he rubbed his chin and clicked his tongue. Jeong Taeui straightened his body, which had been leaning back loosely against the chair, and asked, “Did you have something you needed from Jae-yi hyung?”

Ilay was silent for a moment, then answered briefly, as if reluctantly. “To be precise, someone I know does.”

“Aha.”

Jeong Taeui nodded. Indeed, it seemed that people looking for Jeong Jaeui were scattered everywhere. If even this man, who rarely showed interest in other people’s affairs, was interested in Jeong Jaeui’s whereabouts, there was no telling about others. Nine times out of ten, every line of communication, whether phone or computer, that reached Jeong Taeui was probably being monitored.

Jeong Taeui sighed.

What? So that’s why he’s been loitering around for the past few days? No wonder he’s been appearing so often, unlike him.