Passion Novel - Volume 3 - Chapter 79

Suddenly, he missed his brother. Although they weren’t particularly close, and he rarely even thought about his brother in everyday life, at this moment, Jeong Taeui wanted to see him. Even a single word from him would be good. Jeong Taeui slowly opened his eyes. The dark dawn was still before him. But it was brighter than a moment ago. The blue light was gradually fading, and objects were regaining their true colors. His uncle’s desk came into view. Neatly organized enough to indicate its owner’s absence, the desk revealed nothing of his owner’s personality. He couldn’t tell what kind of books he liked, whether he was sloppy or meticulous, just from that desk.

Sitting alone in silence, lost in thought, thinking of his uncle naturally led him to think of his brother too. This was because, before Jeong Taeui came here, his uncle used to talk with his father, and after his father passed away, mostly with his brother.

The two of them might have been similar. Something about them was alike. Yet, at the same time, they were vastly different.

For example, this.

His brother would never abandon Jeong Taeui. It wasn’t because he loved Jeong Taeui, or because they were family, or because he was moral. He just was. His not abandoning Jeong Taeui was too natural, without reason or cause. No matter the situation, he wouldn’t even think of the word ‘abandon.’ This was a little different from the fact that Jeong Taeui wouldn’t abandon his brother. In a difficult situation, if options arose, Jeong Taeui would agonize. He would eventually choose not to abandon his brother, but his brother was not like that.

His uncle, if he had to be compared, was more like Jeong Taeui. However, in terms of results, his uncle was also different from Jeong Taeui.

His uncle could turn his back on someone he cared for, even if that person was sad and struggling. His uncle was the kind of person who could do things that person didn’t want for what he himself desired.

“Uncle, he seems smart, but he’s not…”

Jeong Taeui whispered, like a sigh.

He knew. Even if he ended up struggling because of his uncle, he ultimately couldn’t hate him.

Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue bitterly and closed his eyes again.

Then it happened. He thought he heard a sound.

Jeong Taeui opened his eyes.

A sound was approaching. Footsteps coming from a distance. The old wooden floor faintly creaked. The heavy sound of footsteps was neither slow nor fast.

Jeong Taeui looked at the instructors’ office door.

Perhaps it was a Adjutant who had come out early, or maybe a staff member who had come up to get some fresh air.

The footsteps gradually drew closer. The sound passed the entrance, then passed the office. Jeong Taeui stared intently at the door until the sound stopped in front of the instructors’ office.

Finally, the door opened. The man beyond the door hesitated, seeing Jeong Taeui sitting alone in the dimly lit instructors’ office. Jeong Taeui’s seat was backlit, so the man seemed to be trying to discern who was sitting there. Jeong Taeui could clearly recognize the man who was looking at him with a slight frown.

It was McKin.

The person he had hoped for had arrived. He had wondered what the chances were of McKin being the first to come to the instructors’ office by chance, but it seemed he, like Jeong Taeui, hadn’t had a long, sweet sleep.

McKin, who recognized Jeong Taeui only after entering the instructors’ office, raised an eyebrow slightly. Then he went to his seat and sat down.

“You’re out early. Instructor Riegrow doesn’t seem to be out yet.”

McKin’s voice was lower than usual. Jeong Taeui nodded silently, though he wouldn’t be visible from behind the partition. It would be even more difficult if Riegrow were here.

McKin unfolded his newspaper, as he always did first thing when entering the instructors’ office. The indifferent rustle of turning pages came from beyond the partition. After slowly turning one page, then another, he finally asked in a calm voice, as if nothing was amiss:

“So, are you done with the task?”

“Yes… up to a point.”

Jeong Taeui gripped his interlocked hands on his knees. A vague sense of anxiety rippled through him.

The sound of the newspaper turning stopped. After a brief silence, McKin asked again,

“Up to a point?”

His voice was faintly sharp. Only after hearing that voice, tinged with wariness and unease, did Jeong Taeui feel his own anxiety somewhat subside.

“I finished everything as you instructed, but I haven’t transmitted it to the address written at the end yet.”

“…Why not?”

McKin asked curtly. In contrast to Jeong Taeui’s subsiding anxiety, his tone became progressively more unstable.

He refolded the newspaper he’d barely started reading. Then he left his seat and approached Jeong Taeui. He sat in the empty chair opposite him, staring intently. Jeong Taeui met his gaze.

Jeong Taeui’s eyes dropped for a moment. This situation felt somehow absurd. From the beginning, when he helped with his work—specifically, his uncle’s work—he knew it wasn’t a legal matter. So Jeong Taeui couldn’t lecture him on morality. Even if Jeong Taeui didn’t get involved, what was destined to happen would eventually happen. Leaked documents would be leaked through someone’s hands, and those who wanted to use them would use them through someone’s help. For him, who had known from the start and gotten involved in such a thing, to act noble now was just laughable. Nevertheless, there was something prickly, like a thorn caught in his throat, that prevented him from just pretending not to see it and moving on.

“Did you know what kind of file that was?”

Jeong Taeui asked, raising his head. And he looked McKin directly in the eye. McKin didn’t avert his gaze. He merely frowned slightly.

Jeong Taeui thought he wouldn’t mind being ridiculed if only his assumption was wrong. In truth, Jeong Taeui wouldn’t care even if someone sold nuclear weapons to a Middle Eastern armed group. He wasn’t the type to be indignant and step forward in such matters. It was fine if McKin sold something somewhere. Even if it was something Jeong Taeui had touched, even if it was a highly dangerous item, he still wouldn’t care about such things.

However, he couldn’t tolerate his uncle deliberately and illegally smuggling something his brother had developed.

If even one of those points was off, Jeong Taeui would pretend not to know. He would politely apologize for causing a fuss with unnecessary assumptions and immediately return to his room to transmit the file. He wouldn’t even mind a scolding from his uncle later.

Why wasn’t his uncle answering the phone? Even that fact, which might have been for a trivial reason, felt unsettling.

McKin quietly met Jeong Taeui’s gaze. After staring at Jeong Taeui’s expressionless face for a long time, he let out a long, displeased sigh and spoke.

“You already knew that this wasn’t something to be spoken about, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s the problem? You’re not going to make an issue of it being an illicit act now… are you displeased that something your brother devised is being leaked?”

McKin picked up an ashtray neatly placed by the windowsill and set it on the table. Then he opened the bottom drawer of the small cabinet next to it and took out a pack of cigarettes. He offered Jeong Taeui a cigarette. Jeong Taeui almost refused but took one. However, he didn’t light it, instead placing it silently in the ashtray’s groove.

Jeong Taeui smiled bitterly.

Indeed. It was the formula his brother had written. If McKin knew it was something his brother had touched, his uncle certainly wouldn’t have been ignorant of it either.

“May I ask you something too? How did you know your brother devised it? Was his major in that field? I heard he was in the military.”

“I didn’t know for sure. I was only guessing. So, it was indeed something Hyung made?”

When Jeong Taeui mumbled indifferently, McKin frowned for the second time. He looked like he thought he’d said the wrong thing. From now on, he would choose his words carefully, but Jeong Taeui had already heard the important thing he wanted to hear.

Alright… It’s time to think again. What should he do?

He couldn’t fundamentally prevent the leakage. Nor did he intend to. If McKin or others had conspired to do this, Jeong Taeui wouldn’t have made an issue of it. No, in fact, the direction of this matter didn’t matter at all. It was just bitter that his uncle was involved in it. And because of that bitterness, Jeong Taeui didn’t want to help with this. The thought of even exposing this to stop it crossed his mind. Even if it only caused a commotion now, and things settled down later, and someone else tried the same thing again.

“If this comes to light, Instructor McKin and Instructor Jeong Changin will be in trouble.”

Jeong Taeui mumbled, as if to himself. There was no intent to threaten. It was just what he was thinking, spilling out. But McKin seemed to have taken it differently.

McKin, who was inhaling his cigarette, stared blankly at Jeong Taeui. Then he flicked the ash and mumbled,

“Instructor Jeong, that friend, he was so confident he wouldn’t mess things up, and this is what it comes to….Even if it comes to light, this side won’t be in as much trouble as you think. Rather, if anyone’s in trouble, you’ll be in more trouble. So it’s not as much of a threat as you might think.”

“Threat? I had no intention of that.”

“Then what was your intention in bringing this up?”

Jeong Taeui closed his mouth again.

Intention? That was what he himself was most curious about. He wished someone would tell him what he should do here. All he could do now was express his feelings to his uncle.

Why did you do it? Why was it Hyung, of all people? Why did you try to take out something Hyung gave to the organization and send it elsewhere? Why did you, of all people, do it?

He wanted to hear the reason. His uncle surely had an answer that Jeong Taeui could accept. Then his heart wouldn’t feel so heavy. After answering, his uncle might tell him not to complain about trivial matters.

Jeong Taeui bowed his head and remained silent for a long time, then mumbled to himself again, not quite to himself.

“Well, what on earth was I thinking? …Why did you do it?”

Why did you do it? The subject of that question was his uncle, but McKin didn’t hear it that way. McKin stared at Jeong Taeui with a momentary look of bewilderment. His eyes were like someone looking at a mentally disturbed person. For the first time, a troubled look crossed his face. He knew countless ways to coax smart people, but someone who was a little odd was more troublesome because you never knew what they would say or when, so you couldn’t take precautions beforehand.

To Jeong Taeui, McKin was not an important person. Jeong Taeui looked at McKin weakly, muttering the words he wanted to ask his uncle.

“Why did you do it?… Why did you do something like this…?”

“……”

McKin stared intently at Jeong Taeui. He looked as if he genuinely suspected Jeong Taeui might be mentally unstable.

Then.

A burst of laughter was heard. As if unable to suppress a suppressed laugh, the sound came from outside the door, echoing boisterously through the hallway.

McKin’s face hardened. Jeong Taeui also frowned slightly. Although he had brought the topic up with McKin, he had no intention of letting anyone else hear it. He knew very well that it shouldn’t reach anyone else’s ears.

However, a person was standing outside the door. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching, but he had been standing there for who knew how long, leaning against the door and listening to their conversation.

Before Jeong Taeui even turned around to look at the man entering through the open door with a look of dismay, he already knew who it was.

“Quite a masterpiece, Taei.”

The person who entered, still with a trace of laughter in his voice, was Ilay. The man who had been with Jeong Taeui just a few hours ago. Before the thought of having something sensitive overheard, Jeong Taeui blankly wondered why he was there. It was still too early for instructors or other officers and Adjutants to be out. Had he just come out early by chance?

…Coincidence?

No way. Jeong Taeui hadn’t heard him approaching. If he hadn’t walked carefully from the end of the hallway to avoid making noise, the old wooden hallway would have given him away. He already knew they were in the instructors’ office.

“Ilay. …You—.”

Jeong Taeui tilted his head slightly, looking at him. He opened his mouth, but no words immediately came out.

A flicker of a smile crossed Ilay’s eyes as he looked at Jeong Taeui. However, his gaze quickly left Jeong Taeui and shifted to McKin. With a feigned look of discomfort, Ilay ambiguously began, “Oh dear…”

McKin’s face grew increasingly rigid. Anger slowly flared in his expression, and his gaze turned cold. He glared fiercely at Jeong Taeui.

“I see, you plotted this with Riegrow.”

Jeong Taeui’s eyes widened in indignation. “That’s not—”

But before McKin could finish, Jeong Taeui, who was about to object, trailed off.

He hadn’t conspired with Ilay. Yet, Ilay was here now. He wore a feigned expression of surprise, but his smiling eyes indicated he’d known all along.

Jeong Taeui closed his mouth. He then raised a bewildered gaze to Ilay. Their eyes met. Ilay merely smiled faintly, saying nothing to Jeong Taeui.

However, in a voice softer than usual, he gently said to McKin, “I have no idea what Instructor McKin is talking about. I merely came out early because I had some unfinished business from yesterday. If I had known you were having a conversation that shouldn’t be overheard, I would have come later. This is quite awkward…”

“…” McKin glared at him with a look of utter disgust.

Indeed, Jeong Taeui vaguely thought, his mind still in turmoil. Ilay must have prepared every possible escape route in case things went wrong. So, even if Jeong Taeui appealed to higher-ups, the situation would have already been orchestrated so that it couldn’t be used as blackmail. There would be no evidence left behind. On the contrary, Jeong Taeui would likely be the one in trouble. At least, his uncle wouldn’t handle things so carelessly. However, if the guard’s testimony was added, the story would change. Even if there were no direct ripple effects, there was no telling what internal problems might arise. Their position wouldn’t be as confident.

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at Ilay, mulling over these vague thoughts. With an ambiguous smile, Ilay muttered, “I really have no idea what you’re talking about…,” as he took something out of his pocket, as if his phone was ringing, and fiddled with it. Click, a short mechanical sound, like a lighter, rang out. Jeong Taeui glared intently at the silver recorder, no bigger than his finger, as Ilay casually put it back into his pocket, feigning ignorance. Jeong Taeui no longer looked at McKin. Only Ilay was in his sight.

His mind, which felt as if it was thick with the darkness of the blue dawn, slowly, very slowly, began to brighten.

It was often trivial words that brought light. Words casually brushed aside were, in fact, the hints they had given Jeong Taeui.

—Instructor Jeong Changin doesn’t particularly like Gentil.

Suddenly, a remark Ilay had made sometime ago came to mind. He had then laughed and said, Just kidding.

Jeong Taeui looked at Ilay with an expressionless face. His mind was still submerged in hazy darkness. But he knew one thing: Ilay knew everything. Even when he came to find Jeong Taeui just a few hours ago.

Just as his uncle had predicted everything from the start, Ilay had also known.

“There might be some misunderstanding, and this doesn’t seem like something within my authority to resolve. I don’t want to argue with Instructor McKin over nothing. —First, I’ll temporarily send my captain to Eoryeong under my authority. Shall we discuss the rest later?”

Ilay’s voice seemed to come from some surreal place. Ilay glanced at Jeong Taeui, who was staring at him without blinking. A chilling smile was in his eyes.

***

The only time he could feel the passage of time was when meals were served. If he turned on a light, he could see the clock, but Jeong Taeui had sat down and hadn’t moved since. He silently pondered with his head bowed, and when meals came, he’d estimate the position in the darkness, take a few spoonfuls, and stop.

He had desperately longed for even a faint light when he first came here, but now he didn’t need it. He knew where to tap to turn on the light, but Jeong Taeui had no need for light now. He simply sat motionless in his spot. Eoryeong was still the same. Of course, it wouldn’t change in just a few months. In that dark, gloomy prison, Jeong Taeui looked down at his own hand, which was invisible in the blackness. He touched the base of his pinky finger. Soft skin met his fingertips. A little below that, his palm was calloused, but his fingers were still soft.

“Hey. Are you asleep?”

The voice came from beyond the wall, but the wall was very thin, and moreover, there were sparsely spaced iron bars across the front. The voice was clear, as if he were speaking right next to him. Jeong Taeui sighed and curtly replied, “No.” The man in the adjacent cell had been talking to Jeong Taeui continuously since a while ago.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, so he answered curtly and sometimes ignored him entirely, but the man didn’t care. He himself had said, “I’m so bored rotting in Eoryeong, there’s no one to talk to, my mouth feels like it’s growing mold,” so he must have been truly bored. Jeong Taeui wanted to be quiet right now. He wanted to close off all his senses, visual or auditory, and hide away in himself. He thought Eoryeong was perfect for that. Unless you deliberately sought to turn on the light, you could be immersed in pitch-black darkness. If he wasn’t in the same room as someone else, there wouldn’t be any annoying sounds. So he had thought it was fortunate when he entered the empty room, but he hadn’t expected such a surprise attack from the next room.

He’d rather have been in the same room as that man. Then he could have stuffed a towel into that bastard’s mouth to shut him up. Before lunch was served, Jeong Taeui learned that the man in the next room was born into a wealthy family in Kuala Lumpur, went to Shanghai alone to study at fifteen, lived with relatives in Shanghai, successfully entered university, and during his freshman year, went on an overseas volunteer camp, which became the turning point for him to decide to join UNHRDO. He also learned that the man had two older brothers, an accountant and a trader, and a younger brother and sister who were still students, and that his younger sister’s name was Leching, and that Leching was so pretty that she was accidentally scouted on the street and even appeared in a TV commercial once.

Unfortunately, the next room was the innermost room on this corridor, and the room across was empty, so Jeong Taeui was the closest person to the man. Jeong Taeui, unable to bear it any longer, took a few spoonfuls of rice when lunch was served and curtly told him to stop talking because he was going to eat and sleep. The man in the next room then seemed to quiet down a bit. He sighed and fell into silence, but not long after, the man in the next room suddenly spoke again. Asking if he was asleep.

Jeong Taeui didn’t answer. He wasn’t in the mood to answer. The man fell silent again. He thought it was fortunate.

The man spoke a few more times until dinner was served, but Jeong Taeui remained silent. He didn’t feel like eating dinner either. While he’d at least pretended to take a few spoonfuls at lunch, he didn’t even touch the tray at dinner. In the early morning, even before the workday began, Ilay immediately put Jeong Taeui into Eoryeong. He didn’t even give Jeong Taeui a chance to say anything. Only just before Jeong Taeui entered the door of Eoryeong on the seventh basement floor did he smile faintly and say one thing: to rest comfortably until he came to pick him up.

He told him to rest comfortably. To rest comfortably.

“Rest comfortably, my ass… That damn bastard.”

Jeong Taeui mumbled lowly.

If one were to rest, this place was certainly good for resting. One could escape the bustling world and catch their breath. If he had been put here just a day earlier, Jeong Taeui might have even smiled and said thank you.

“Oh. You’re awake?”

No sooner had he mumbled to himself than a voice came from the next room. Damn it. Jeong Taeui closed his mouth again.

“You sleep well, don’t you? You’ve been sleeping since lunchtime, right? You must have been incredibly tired. But it seems you also came here carrying a grudge, didn’t you? Who is that damned bastard?”

The man asked with a cheerful laugh. Jeong Taeui wondered whether to ignore him but sighed and answered, “There is. Someone who doesn’t see people as people.”

“Aha. That’s a real damn bastard. I know one among the guys I know who’s like that. Someone who thinks he’s so great he just crushes everyone else. …No, I don’t even need to go far.”

Suddenly, the man’s voice turned chilling. His words continued with a tone filled with festering resentment.

“That’s exactly why I ended up here. A guy who doesn’t see people as people. A butcher-like guy who can beat a human to death with his bare hands. A crazy murderer who smiles while covered in people’s blood!”

“…” Jeong Taeui closed his mouth. Jeong Taeui also knew someone just like the man had described. It would be despairing if there were two such people in the world.

“Well then… he must be someone you shouldn’t associate with. By the way, how did you say you ended up here?”

When Jeong Taeui subtly asked, the man’s voice suddenly cut off. After a moment, he gnashed his teeth and muttered in a dejected and resentful tone.

“That madman killed my colleague. So I got a pretty big revolver and shot him with it…”

“Hmm…” Jeong Taeui answered ambiguously and fell silent. Jeong Taeui thought he knew who this man was, born in Kuala Lumpur, graduated from university in Shanghai, and the third older brother of the beautiful Leching.

“Some idiotic new recruit who didn’t know his place got involved and I failed! Damn it. That empty-headed brat who ran around with an empty gun, if I ever get out of here, I’ll find him and twist his neck!”

“Mmm…”

So, that madman from back then was this guy. That madman who stormed into a crowded restaurant with a .50 caliber revolver and started firing indiscriminately. He recalled mumbling that if he ever met that bastard alive later, he’d have to give him a beating. Jeong Taeui glanced over. Nothing could be seen in the pitch-black darkness, but he stared blankly in the direction the voice was coming from. Jeong Taeui changed his mind. It was fortunate he wasn’t in the same room as this guy. If he had been in the same room, he wouldn’t have just shoved a towel down his throat; he would have strangled him with it. Then he would have been in trouble for murder.