Passion Novel - Volume 4 - Chapter 101

Ilay let out a long “hmm” and fell silent for a moment, then glanced at Jeong Taeui. The moment he felt that gaze, Jeong Taeui closed his eyes. He knew it was pointless, as that man couldn’t possibly fail to notice, but he instinctively closed his eyes.

“Going back to sleep?”

“…….”

Only after hearing his added words, “Why are you trying to sleep again when you’re already awake?”, did Jeong Taeui open his eyes bitterly. Ilay was leaning back in the chair, staring intently at him.

“How long have you been there?”

Jeong Taeui muttered, and Ilay subtly raised an eyebrow and said, Well, I wonder, but didn’t answer. Jeong Taeui looked at him suspiciously. He had thought he had a strange dream, and it was because this guy was next to him. That dream with the demon, and even the fleeting dream he had before that, seemed to have featured this guy. Yes, he was sitting right there on that chair, looking at me…

Thinking that far, Jeong Taeui suddenly tilted his head.

“……?”

But even though something felt odd, he couldn’t put his finger on it, so he just tilted his head a few times and stopped.

Ilay stared intently at Jeong Taeui for a moment. Jeong Taeui sighed deeply, feeling the gaze sting. And he looked at him with a stiff face. Directly, as if to say, If you’re going to kill me, just kill me.

Ilay looked at Jeong Taeui’s face and subtly raised an eyebrow. Then he muttered, Oh-ho, and crossed his arms. And he tilted his head, scrutinizing Jeong Taeui with narrowed eyes. As if searching for something.

Thinking that it was somehow different from the gaze he had felt just a moment ago, Jeong Taeui met his eyes, even if his face was like he’d bitten into something unpleasant. Though he didn’t want to admit it, Ilay couldn’t possibly have missed the slight tension in Jeong Taeui’s expression. He suddenly let out a small laugh.

“Regret it?”

Jeong Taeui was silent for a moment at the sudden question. He asked if he regretted it. On some points, Jeong Taeui had no regrets. At least, he didn’t think he would make a different choice if he went back to that situation. The same applied to Ilay.

“…….”

Jeong Taeui briefly observed Ilay’s expression before answering. It was because his timid heart had subtly revived. If I say I regret it, will he hit me less painfully? …Probably not. The word ‘forgiveness’ wasn’t in this guy’s dictionary.

As Jeong Taeui pondered alone and then made a regretful face, Ilay looked puzzled for a moment but didn’t ask.

“No… I don’t regret it.”

Jeong Taeui sighed and shook his head. Ilay stared intently at Jeong Taeui and then smiled subtly.

“You don’t regret it? You seemed to be hesitating just now.”

“Hmm… I was wondering if he’d hit me less painfully if I said I regretted it. But thinking back, it doesn’t seem like it… A person really should live truthfully, after all.”

Jeong Taeui said nonchalantly. Ilay looked at Jeong Taeui as if he had been struck, but then he let out a low laugh. As if greatly amused. But Jeong Taeui was not so ignorant as to miss that his gaze had begun to glow ominously. Although they hadn’t been together for very long, he now knew enough about that man.

“Yes, that’s how it is. No regrets, huh… Then, about what exactly?”

“Huh?”

Jeong Taeui’s eyes widened. It was because he didn’t understand his words for a moment. As he blinked a couple of times, Jeong Taeui, who had been rubbing his chin and lost in thought, tilted his head with a suspicious expression and cautiously asked again.

“About what… did you mean, hitting you? Or taking you? Or tying you up? Or was it drugging you?”

Jeong Taeui, who was listing things one by one because there were too many to pinpoint, suddenly felt like he was digging his own grave. What was he trying to achieve by rattling off such items himself? But by the time that thought occurred to him, it was too late. As if recalling those memories, Ilay’s face, which had been simply calm and nonchalant when Jeong Taeui first opened his eyes, now began to smile. Jeong Taeui, from months of experience, knew that his smile was not a real smile.

Damn it. They say alcohol and tobacco destroy brain cells, and it must be true. I should drink less beer now. …No, beer isn’t alcohol. Beer is barley tea. Let’s try to quit smoking.

For a few seconds, Jeong Taeui genuinely regretted his past. A foolish past where he deliberately listed items that would revive those memories.

“Haha… Hearing that, there’s quite a lot. Yes, since it’s out, tell me more. There must be more than that.”

Ilay gestured with his chin, urging him on. Jeong Taeui intently observed Ilay. He briefly wondered if this guy genuinely wanted to hear it. But as Jeong Taeui remained silent, Ilay said threateningly, ‘I told you to speak.’ Jeong Taeui frowned sullenly. Things he didn’t regret doing to Ilay. There were too many to list individually. But in this context, it had to be something that would provoke his anger.

“…Cursing at you?”

Jeong Taeui asked hesitantly. But Ilay raised an eyebrow and again just said, ‘Tell me more.’

Was he planning to torment him this way? To keep him talking, even if he couldn’t think of anything else? But continuously reciting things like this wouldn’t torment Jeong Taeui; if anything, it would torment Ilay himself—whether he was actually tormented or not was another discussion.

He had never thought of it as a peculiar taste to deliberately want to recall his own bad-mouthing or unpleasant past. …Was this perhaps ‘Say whatever you want before you die’? Jeong Taeui silently looked at Ilay. Then he sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t know what you’re most angry about, but I don’t regret anything I’ve done to you.”

“Not at all?”

“Not at all.”

Ilay asked again as if giving him one last chance, but Jeong Taeui shook his head firmly again. He made a sound like “hmm” and then fell silent, seemingly lost in thought, just staring at Jeong Taeui. Only after giving that answer did Jeong Taeui suddenly remember.

What exactly was this man most angry about regarding what he had done?

Come to think of it, all the things Jeong Taeui had just listed were things that would make this man angry, given his personality. Hitting, taking, tying up, and drugging him, he didn’t know about those, but he had seen a guy get beaten to a pulp for cursing at this man’s face. But hitting, taking, tying up, and drugging were far more severe than cursing, so those items alone would certainly be enough to provoke anger.

However, his current question was expecting a certain answer. He asked if he regretted something specific. Probably the point that infuriated him the most.

But Jeong Taeui couldn’t tell what it was. What would infuriate him the most? Suddenly, he desperately wanted to know. What action of his had infuriated him the most?

“…Then you.”

Jeong Taeui opened his mouth, then paused. Would it be better not to ask? A moment of hesitation lingered.

You, what are you most angry about regarding me?

Would he even regret it if he knew? No. His anger was entirely his own, and his own anger, which had caused all the actions that infuriated him, was entirely his own.

Suddenly, his chest felt chillingly cold.

Ilay and Jeong Taeui exchanged anger.

Had they spent several months, almost half a year, together, and all they had exchanged and left as a result was anger? He planted the seed of anger, and Jeong Taeui made it sprout.

“…I, however, wasn’t like that.”

Jeong Taeui muttered to himself. He wasn’t like that. The feelings he had experienced while with him weren’t only negative emotions. Both at first and now, Jeong Taeui still vividly remembered being angry at him, but having those memories and those negative emotions persisting were separate issues. Even with friends, one could dislike them as much as one wanted. Everyone had aspects they disliked. He had often been hurt and angered by those disliked aspects. He still held those memories. But continuing to hold those memories and the feelings of hurt and anger from that time persisting were entirely different matters.

Jeong Taeui lowered his head and closed his mouth.

Ilay looked at Jeong Taeui, his lips slightly twisted in a frown. It was because he couldn’t understand the context of Jeong Taeui’s sporadic muttering. He remained silent for a long time. At the end of it, perhaps having thought of something, he subtly twisted his lips.

“Well, fine. Regrets or whatever, they’re useless things to think about anyway. Those things don’t matter.”

Ilay rose from the chair. He approached the bed and placed his hand next to the pillow Jeong Taeui was resting on. And with his head tilted askew, he looked down at Jeong Taeui with amusement. A faint smile seemed to bloom subtly on his lips.

“No matter what you think, from now on, you will be by my side, regardless of your will. …I told you, didn’t I? Live every day suffering terribly by my side, which you hated so much.”

“…—.”

He came so close, as if his lips would touch his forehead. His low whisper crawled over his skin and fell onto his heart. Suddenly, Ilay stopped smiling. And after staring at Jeong Taeui for a long time, he whispered lowly, almost inaudibly.

“Taei. I, you know, have never been that angry before.”

Jeong Taeui looked at Ilay, who was so close above his head that he couldn’t focus, but he couldn’t tell what expression he was making as he spoke in that low, smooth voice.

“Truly, very, yes—to a terrifying degree, I was angry.”

Perhaps he was smiling. The voice, chillingly smooth as it burrowed into his ear, chuckled lowly like a faint insect sound.

“For about a week after you disappeared, I can’t even remember properly. What state of mind I was in. When I finally came to my senses, I found I had killed two people during that week. And I don’t even remember it.”

“That’s why I went into the detention center for a few days, I guess. It was probably the first time in UNHRDO history that an instructor went into the detention center,” Ilay laughed. Ilay fell silent for a moment. Perhaps he was recalling that time.

“Still, it was fortunate that I went to the detention center. I had time to think. But even inside, my anger wouldn’t subside. I was truly mad with anger, not knowing what to do. Then, perhaps the day before I was to leave the detention center, you appeared in my dream.”

His lips, which had been imperceptibly drawing closer, finally touched Jeong Taeui’s forehead. Even though it was a sensation he had been familiar with, perhaps because there had been a long interval, or perhaps because his voice was chillingly smooth, Jeong Taeui flinched and hunched his shoulders. Realizing this, Ilay twisted the corner of his mouth upwards.

“In that dream… No, well, that dream doesn’t matter. After having that dream and waking up, opening my eyes in the pitch-black detention center, I suddenly thought. I need to pull myself together. If I kill people without even knowing it, and can’t remember it, what if I come to my senses later and find I’ve killed someone I shouldn’t have? That would be troublesome, wouldn’t it?”

He laughed. That laughter, slowly descending from his forehead, chillingly touched his ear and then slid down his cheek.

Jeong Taeui sat motionless, not even trying to avoid his lips touching his face, and remained silent.

“…If you’re keeping me alive because you hate me so much you want to kill me but think tormenting me is better, Ilay, I’m telling you for your own good, it’s better to kill me.”

Jeong Taeui said quietly as his lips approached his own. The lips that were about to overlap paused for a moment. Even if it was about himself, Jeong Taeui spoke to Ilay. For his sanity. That was Jeong Taeui’s sincere advice for him.

His lips parted. A pale face, without a trace of a smile, stared coldly at Jeong Taeui. Jeong Taeui met his gaze. Then, at some point, he sighed and muttered.

“Well, as for me… if you try to kill me, I’ll think of a way to survive, whether it’s running away, fighting, or begging.”

“I don’t want to die,” Jeong Taeui added, muttering gloomily, and a cold chuckle returned to Ilay’s eyes.

Ilay rose from the bed. And as if his business was done, he walked towards the door and said to Jeong Taeui.

“Rita told me to tell you to come to the dining room when you wake up. And my brother also told me to tell you to come to the study after you finish eating.”

“Oh…?”

Seeing Jeong Taeui, who was blinking blankly at Ilay with a dazed expression, Ilay raised an eyebrow and looked at him as if asking if he had anything more to say. Jeong Taeui shook his head, saying ‘No,’ but still looked at Ilay suspiciously.

“I was wondering if you were just leaving.”

“Hmm?”

“No… I thought I might have to offer an eyeball or something.”

Ilay stared intently at Jeong Taeui for a few seconds after hearing him mutter with a tilted head. A look of disbelief crossed his face, and his gaze turned cold.

“If you want that, I can arrange it.”

“No, I don’t really want it. I just thought it might be like that, hmm.”

He had certainly thought that if he ever encountered Ilay again, he would be instantly cut off. Or that he wouldn’t be killed, as Ilay had said, but some part of his body would be left incomplete to torment him.

So, the moment he opened his eyes, he had inwardly braced himself to part with an eyeball, an arm, or a leg. As Jeong Taeui inwardly muttered, “Thank goodness for my intact body,” and looked brightly at Ilay with a feigned cheerful face, Ilay’s cold gaze returned. He was about to say something, but then closed his mouth again and clicked his tongue a couple of times.

“Go to Rita. The longer you delay, the worse the soup tastes, Rita nags, you know.”

Only then did Jeong Taeui remember why Ilay didn’t return to this house. Indeed. The look on his face as he briefly grumbled about Rita’s nagging was quite something to behold.

So there is someone this guy has to endure, even if it bothers him, Jeong Taeui thought, and then struggled to get out of bed.

As he drank the thin, clear soup Rita had made, his hazy mind began to clear. The moment his mind cleared, the first thing that came to mind was Moro’s whereabouts.

He hadn’t expected that cunning guy to sit quietly and wait, but the moment he heard from Kyle that he had returned to Hong Kong, he felt his blood boil.

Nine times out of ten, it would be too late even if he called the Asia branch now to report illegal weapon possession. By now, Moro had surely gone into his room, gathered all his “beauties,” and hidden them somewhere else.

“Damn it. I guess I’ll have to go back once…”

I’ll go and raid that guy’s room myself, take everything he has, and sink it into the Hong Kong sea.

Jeong Taeui gritted his teeth and muttered. Moro, you son of a bitch, the next time I see you, I will definitely turn our connection into a definite bad one.

As soon as he closed the door and left Kyle’s study, Jeong Taeui, his face hardened to a pale blue, strode quickly to his room. Reaching his room, he glared hatefully at the room next door, where Moro had been sleeping just yesterday, and then kicked the door with all his might.

“…! …!! …!!!”

The moment Jeong Taeui kicked the door, he realized his foot wasn’t normal.

The cast, which had been tattered and messed up from trudging through the mountains, had been neatly replaced while Jeong Taeui was asleep. It seemed a doctor had been called to the house, as the wounds all over his body were neatly treated with gauze and bandages. However, even with the neat cast and bandages, the contents wrapped inside—the wounds—were still unhealed. Especially his ankle, which had been overworked since last night and this morning to a degree he thought he would never experience again. He had limped around to the point where his ankle could have shattered, so it was impossible for it to be fine.

He had been limping around the house with a cane, and in his anger, he had forgotten and kicked the door with that foot, so his ankle was, as expected, not fine.

Jeong Taeui, his face pale, lay sprawled in the hallway, clutching his ankle and trembling, while Ilay silently looked down at him from behind. Frowning slightly, he looked down at Jeong Taeui with a tilted head and muttered something, whether to himself or not, it was unclear.

“Sometimes I just don’t understand you at all, and this is one of those times…”

He had no energy to respond to Ilay, who spoke with such a serious face. Jeong Taeui groaned for a long time, clutching his ankle, and then finally crawled into his room. Then, he suddenly frowned, seeing Ilay follow him in.

“Why?”

He spoke sullenly, but he also felt like it was finally coming. Both when they met in the forest at dawn and when he briefly woke up after returning home, this man had been unsettlingly unresponsive. Perhaps it was even more so because he had expected to lose an arm the moment they met.

Or perhaps he was playing a high-level game, trying to wear him down like this…

Jeong Taeui looked up at Ilay suspiciously.

Now, he was already in too deep. Running away was over. He couldn’t overpower him, so if Ilay tried to kill him, he would have no choice but to die quietly. But whether he knew Jeong Taeui’s thoughts or not, Ilay stared intently at Jeong Taeui. Then he turned his head, went to the chair by the window in the room, and sat down, letting out a “hmm.”

“How much did you hear?”

“What?”

“From the study earlier. You must have heard the conversation.”

A faint edge sharpened Ilay’s voice. It even sounded faintly anxious.

Jeong Taeui closed his mouth.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering how much he should say he heard.

When Jeong Taeui had drunk the soup and was going to Kyle’s study, he was about to go up the stairs when he faintly heard Ilay’s voice from inside.

His feet stopped involuntarily.

It wasn’t because he heard the content. It was because a desire not to encounter Ilay surged within him. Given the situation, he wanted to avoid Ilay if possible. He frowned, wondering if he should go back, but then he changed his mind. He had to greet Kyle. He hadn’t seen him since the kidnapping incident. …Though, in fact, it had only been about a day and a half since he last saw him yesterday morning.

Jeong Taeui, who had been pondering for a moment, sat down on the wooden stairs. Ilay was not the type to stay long in someone’s room unless he had a specific purpose. When he had a purpose, he would finish it and quickly leave. It might be a little different if he was talking to his brother, but the conversation probably wouldn’t be that long anyway. He was sitting on the wooden stairs, idly thinking, ‘Come to think of it, what happened to Moro?’ and burning with fighting spirit. He could hear sounds even without trying to listen.

“I asked how much you heard.”

Ilay asked again. His voice deepened further. Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue bitterly and hesitated for a moment longer, but then he answered honestly.

“From the part about intending to kill him as soon as you found him.”

Then, this time, Ilay fell silent. Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue and scratched the back of his neck.

“I didn’t hear well. Your voice wasn’t loud, and I only heard a few words here and there, not everything you said. Among what I heard, there was nothing I thought was important, so you don’t have to worry if you said something important.”

Eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation, regardless of the circumstances or intent, was not something to be proud of. Jeong Taeui regretted, ‘I should have just stayed in the living room and gone to the study after he left.’

“…And.”

Ilay, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. Jeong Taeui looked at him puzzled. Ilay spoke again with a displeased expression.

“And, what else did you hear?”

His voice was low and devoid of humor. As if he had heard something he shouldn’t have, his gaze at Jeong Taeui was bleak. Jeong Taeui suddenly flared up. No matter how unseemly it was, it wasn’t intentional. Moreover, even if the conversation he overheard contained a significant amount of discussion about Jeong Taeui himself, it wasn’t Jeong Taeui’s fault.

“Are you saying you’re upset that I heard you talking about me, right now?”

Jeong Taeui’s voice also deepened. With a wry twist of his lips, Jeong Taeui stared directly at Ilay.