Passion Novel - Volume 4 - Chapter 92

Jeong Changin hesitated the moment he stepped into the room.

As soon as he opened the door, the air, bitingly cold, distinctly touched his skin. Riegrow sat at the desk, arms crossed, one hand supporting his chin, silently lost in thought. His cool, detached gaze was frozen to the point of appearing blue.

Damn it. He’d only been out of the room for ten or twenty minutes, at most, but what had twisted his nerves so much in that short time?

Jeong Changin momentarily wavered, not wanting to step into the room, but with no other way to turn and leave, he quietly entered. He knew how dangerous Riegrow was, with that expressionless face and eyes that were chillingly blue. Jeong Changin closed the door behind him and tilted his head. Riegrow must have known he’d entered, yet he remained lost in thought, not even sparing him a glance.

When there was something to discuss about work—which connected his brother, him, Jeong Changin, and UNHRDO in one thread—they would meet in person if possible. In the past, when the brothers were on the other side of the world, they would talk with several layers of security devices, but that wasn’t a good method either. While multiple layers of security blocking detection meant there was no risk of anyone finding out who was talking to whom, the fact that such security had been activated would at least be recorded. Although they could always make excuses, repeated instances of such records were not good. So, as much as possible, they only discussed rough and simple matters over the phone, and for truly important parts, they met in person or used a trusted intermediary. This had become a habit, and even after Riegrow moved to Hong Kong, they would sometimes meet. Due to the nature of the organization, UNHRDO said that internal lines with security devices were safer than external ones, but there was no need to use risky devices when they were staying in the same building.

So, today, Riegrow had come to Jeong Changin’s room after a long time, both to discuss work and to talk about the power dynamics within the branch. And just as they were about to start talking, Maori contacted him—for the same reason as above with this man—so he had gone to meet him in person and just returned.

Given the time, the conversation didn’t drag on for long. It was about ten minutes, at most twenty. Riegrow, whom Jeong Changin had expected to be waiting, perhaps flipping through a book, was instead lost in thought with an expressionless face when Jeong Changin returned to the room.

“……”

This isn’t good.

Jeong Changin thought as he slowly approached him with an unconcerned expression. He had no memory of such an atmosphere leading to a good outcome. Especially when the other party was someone so difficult to approach.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. You should have read a book or something.”

He pretended not to know, but Riegrow didn’t react. He remained lost in thought, not even shifting his gaze.

Hold on. What could have bothered him? There must be a reason why he ended up like this in just a few tens of minutes.

Jeong Changin quietly tilted his head as he took off the uniform he had to put on in the middle of the night to meet his superior. And one by one, he recalled the possible reasons.

Riegrow’s condition hadn’t been good lately. He exuded a fierce aura that anyone, even those unfamiliar with him, could clearly see meant he had become rougher. Jeong Changin knew when it started. It was from that day. The night Jeong Taeui left UNHRDO. That day, Jeong Changin felt dejected. His nephew had come to say goodbye before leaving. But not a single word was exchanged. Just as he had arrived, carrying only a sports bag, he simply gave a slight bow through the half-open door and turned away. Jeong Changin also saw him off with a barely perceptible nod.

“—Uncle. I think you’re abusing yourself.”

That day, after coming up from the 4th floor and returning to his room, his nephew had said it like a sigh.

Perhaps that’s how he appeared in his nephew’s eyes. Even if Jeong Changin himself didn’t see it that way. But if the abuse he spoke of was longing, then it was true. Even if his nephew was angry or resentful of him, Jeong Changin longed for his nephew. Even if it was different from what others considered longing. After Jeong Taeui left like that, Jeong Changin sat blankly for a while. Then he slowly stood up. He still had things to do. Trivial tasks that Jeong Changin himself had created, which he needed to clear away to feel refreshed.

He went to find Riegrow. Perhaps an accomplice, the man who had helped him. It was late, but he didn’t care. That man would wake up even from a deep sleep if someone stopped in front of his room. Jeong Changin unhesitatingly knocked on his door. But surprisingly, there was no answer. Perhaps he was in the bathroom or couldn’t hear due to listening to music or something. Jeong Changin knocked again, this time harder. Then he heard a stir inside.

‘Rick? I’m coming in.’

Jeong Changin said that, then after a slight pause, he opened the door. And at that moment, he even stopped breathing.

An unexpected sight unfolded before his eyes. It was something he couldn’t even imagine in a dream.

Riegrow was tied up. His wrists were bound by handcuffs attached to the bedpost, and he lay there, unable to move. Riegrow, who had been vaguely opening his eyes as if dazed, slowly turned only his eyes towards Jeong Changin, as if his consciousness wasn’t fully intact. But his pupils weren’t clear. His eyes constantly flickered as if he was struggling to regain his fading consciousness. At the same time, Jeong Changin caught a faint whiff of a strange yet familiar smell. Though heavily ventilated by the air conditioning, this lingering scent was chloroform. That was why Riegrow’s consciousness was clouded.

Who could have done this to him?

Jeong Changin’s first thought upon seeing this unbelievable sight was that. The answer came without much thought. There was no particular reason. Just as the question arose, one person instinctively came to mind.

This guy… he really caused a scene and ran away before leaving. Jeong Changin clicked his tongue inwardly and approached Riegrow. The handcuff key was conspicuously placed on the side table. Perhaps it was another act of malice to put it within Riegrow’s sight, where he couldn’t reach, but Jeong Changin wondered if Riegrow, with his hazy consciousness, had even noticed the key. Jeong Changin picked up the key and glanced at his watch. Jeong Taeui should be on a boat heading to Hong Kong by now. It was too late for this man to rush out and catch him.

Jeong Changin unbound Riegrow’s wrists. Then he threw the chloroform-soaked towel, which was still giving off a scent from the side table, into the bathroom and closed the door.

He had thought that if he freed his wrists, this monstrous man, even if under the influence of chloroform, would somehow get up and rush to the pier immediately. But Riegrow remained lying there for a while even after regaining his freedom.

‘…Are you alright?’

Jeong Changin clicked his tongue and brought him water. His gaze, fixed on the ceiling, still wavered unstably. What a monster. Jeong Changin muttered inwardly. The chloroform-soaked towel still faintly emitted a smell. The fact that such a volatile liquid still remained on the towel meant that not much time had passed.

Yet, he had already regained consciousness and was struggling to forcibly grasp his hazy awareness. At this rate, it would be no wonder if his brother sighed and complained, ‘That guy’s not human.’

‘…What time is it?’

Riegrow spoke. It was the first time Jeong Changin had heard his voice so low and deep. Jeong Changin quietly told him the time. Perhaps Riegrow was also gauging the time, and if it seemed he wasn’t too late, he might try to rush out somehow. But upon hearing the already late hour, Riegrow fell silent.

With Jeong Changin’s help, he sat up. His gaze flickered even as he drank water. After emptying half the glass, he leaned against the headboard and rested for a moment. If not for his eyes, which were forcibly wide open as if trying to endure his clouded consciousness, one might have thought he had fallen asleep sitting there, so still was he.

Thinking that it would be impossible to talk now, Jeong Changin clicked his tongue. And for a moment, he thought of his nephew. Somehow, the idiom of the spear and shield came to mind.

It seemed unlikely that a man like Riegrow would miss his target. But also, Jeong Taeui, as far as Jeong Changin knew, was not someone who would be easily caught by others if he set his mind to something.

“You, how on earth did you raise your nephew?”

Riegrow, who had been silently as if asleep, suddenly muttered. Jeong Changin turned his gaze to him. His voice was so faint and blurry, as if he were mumbling in a daze while asleep.

Jeong Changin thought that he had heard similar words from this man before, and he sat down on a chair.

“Sometimes he acts with reckless courage, doesn’t he?”

Jeong Changin replied to Riegrow’s words with a non-answer. Yes. Reckless. If it were Jeong Changin, he wouldn’t have done such a thing, no matter how certain the immediate safety, thinking of the uncertain future. In fact, that was fundamentally true for Jeong Taeui as well. Judging by his usual behavior, Jeong Taeui also didn’t cross dangerous bridges. But sometimes, there were moments. Not thinking with his head, but his body acting first, or his emotions, seemingly reckless to the point of bravado, taking the lead. Making the observer both chilled and amused.

Jeong Changin quietly watched Riegrow. Now that he looked, his face was swollen. His cheeks were reddish and swollen as if he had been hit hard. Jeong Changin didn’t bother to ask why. He just thought. He must have decided to really cause trouble before leaving. I hope he manages to escape well.

Riegrow’s vacant gaze fell to his own limp hand. Then, one by one, he counted his fingers, watching their movement. As if exploring what a hand looked like.

“He liked this, you know. I still don’t know why, even looking at it again.”

Riegrow muttered. It sounded like he was talking to himself. Jeong Changin had never seen Riegrow so blank and listless. He seemed to be out of his mind, intoxicated. A low sigh escaped him. A long, low breath, as if releasing a heavy burden. Riegrow closed his eyes. Even though he was struggling to regain consciousness, he knew that if he closed his eyes, he would lose it. Yet, he closed them. Jeong Changin knew he wouldn’t wake up again and rose from the chair. Perhaps he wouldn’t even remember what he had said when he woke up tomorrow morning. On the border between consciousness and unconsciousness, he was rapidly tilting towards the latter.

Jeong Changin moved. He turned off the light and stepped out of the room. At that moment, a low, hoarse voice, thick with sleep, seeped out.

“He seemed to hate me terribly.”

Jeong Changin didn’t hear it properly. It was too low and faint a voice. He thought he had heard something like that, but he couldn’t be sure if he had heard it correctly. He stood by the door for a moment, waiting, but no more words came. Riegrow had fallen back beyond consciousness. Jeong Changin tilted his head but quietly closed the door and left. It was after that.

After that, Riegrow became fierce and rough. He was originally a brutal man, even earning the nickname “madman,” but it seemed he had mellowed considerably after becoming an instructor at the Asia branch. Although the medical bay was constantly busy with members suffering minor and severe injuries, only a handful were seriously injured to the point of no return. No one died.

Even Kyle, who had seriously said, ‘UNHRDO must be crazy to make that guy an instructor,’ when Riegrow was promoted to the Asia branch, showed genuine surprise when no one died even after several months.

But lately.

Riegrow seemed to have reverted to his old self, a madman and a killer.

At first glance, there wasn’t much difference. His expressions, voice, and manner of speaking in certain situations hadn’t changed at all. As usual, he would give a cool smile and mutter calmly with a slow, indifferent, yet slightly twisted tone. But he was clearly rougher. Now, members no longer easily picked fights with him as they used to. This was due to two deaths already. For three or four days, a short period, an unprecedented event occurred where the instructor went into a rage and came out. Although it couldn’t be pinpointed exactly, Jeong Changin was now wary of the man who had become chillingly unstable, a feeling everyone could sense.

In the past, Riegrow would have given Jeong Changin some leeway, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case now. Now, if anyone bothered him even an inch, he would twist their neck and tear it off without a word.

However, despite all that, he was still doing his job properly, and he wouldn’t just act without reason unless someone crossed the line. Jeong Changin knew how much harm he wouldn’t incur from him, so he could maintain an appropriate distance. In fact, that distance, if it weren’t for work, wouldn’t have existed from the beginning, making it easy to regain.

Today was no different. Riegrow, who had visited a company in Hong Kong a few weekends ago, had mentioned that he expected to hear from his brother soon. Then, today, he had received a brief call on an external line and had come late at night. Just as they were about to start talking, Jeong Changin had been called away by his superior and upon returning, found Riegrow emanating a chilling aura, clearly something had happened in the interim.

Jeong Changin hung his uniform on the hanger and turned back, slowly observing Riegrow. Then, Riegrow suddenly blurted out.

“You had a call. I was wondering what to do, but it was an external line that rang for quite a while, so I answered it for you.”

Jeong Changin raised an eyebrow slightly. A clue to the cause of his bad mood appeared. An external call. There were a few people who might call at this hour from outside. Among them…

“…—.”

Jeong Changin went through his acquaintances one by one, then suddenly his face hardened. He had a guess as to who had called. And also why Riegrow was looking at him with such a chilling gaze.

“It was you, after all?”

He asked. Jeong Changin was silent for a moment, then sighed.

“Yes. I helped him. …—Otherwise, I would have lost my nephew.”

Riegrow stared at Jeong Changin without a word. His blue, sunken gaze was chilling. He seemed about to say something but stopped, asking only what he wanted, briefly.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know either.”

Jeong Changin answered Riegrow’s question without hesitation. But Riegrow’s sharp gaze shot at him as if to say, ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ and he clicked his tongue, sitting on the bed.

“It’s true. I’m not foolish enough to lie to you in this situation, and my nephew isn’t foolish enough to leave a trace for even me to follow.”

“……”

Riegrow continued to stare at Jeong Changin for a while, but he seemed to realize that he wouldn’t get an answer no matter how much he pressed. A subtle impatience was evident in his fingertips as he lightly tapped the armrest.

“He left with a new name and identity, and I don’t know what name he’s using. I told him to call once or twice a month, but I didn’t specify a date. …—To be honest, I also wasn’t keen on being a stepping stone for you to track him down.”

Riegrow frowned at Jeong Changin’s words. Jeong Changin, though appearing unconcerned as he looked at Riegrow, felt a chill in his heart. Jeong Changin had said that he refused to help Riegrow at the cost of abandoning Jeong Taeui. Even that natural and free opinion was a dangerous level for this man now. It seemed a little more force was being applied to the fingertips tapping the armrest.

Then, Riegrow suddenly stopped his hand and fell silent again, as if a thought had occurred to him. When he finally lifted his gaze again, Jeong Changin realized how terrifying his eyes could be.

“Taei seems to have only grown a thicker skin here… He often said he wanted to cut my throat.”

Riegrow was laughing. Only the corners of his mouth turned up, and he chuckled softly, perhaps even appearing amused. Jeong Changin knew it wasn’t a real laugh, but he calmly chuckled along.

“Why are you suddenly getting angry, Rick? You must have heard those words countless times. You never even paid attention to them. You didn’t care about those whining guys, no matter who said what, did you?”

Riegrow said nothing. As Jeong Changin had said, he had countless people who wanted to kill him, so he didn’t pay much attention to those who merely spoke behind his back. Riegrow seemed lost in thought for a moment, then nodded and said casually.

“Yes, you’re right.”

Riegrow mumbled, acknowledging the words but not quite convinced, and then closed his mouth. Jeong Changin silently watched him.

He wanted to cut Riegrow’s throat, huh…

Jeong Changin briefly wondered what kind of face and voice Jeong Taeui had used when he said that. He felt like he understood. He raised his head again and looked at Riegrow.

A strange feeling came over him. He was clearly radiating a chillingly ominous aura just by being there, yet his face was subtly subdued. As if he were depressed—Jeong Changin thought, then let out a small laugh.

Then, suddenly, Riegrow cast his gaze upon Jeong Changin. Jeong Changin met his piercing blue eyes with a puzzled expression. Finally, he spoke in a low but firm voice.

“I won’t use you as a stepping stone. To be honest, I’d like to kill you right now and extract everything, but that won’t be easy… I won’t make you worry about him anymore.”

“…That’s good to hear.”

Jeong Changin said, sounding doubtful. Then he frowned slightly. He had a hunch what Riegrow was about to say, even before he opened his mouth. And Riegrow said exactly what Jeong Changin had expected.

“So, if I find Taei, no matter what I do to him, you are to have absolutely no involvement. This is between him and me, so it’s none of your business, and if you interfere, it wouldn’t be fair. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Jeong Changin did not answer. The jet-black eyes that stared at him, demanding an answer, gleamed with a bluish tint. They were eyes that would not tolerate refusal, nor allow any caveats to be added. If Ilay Riegrow could find Jeong Taeui, Jeong Changin would not interfere in any way. That was what he wanted from Jeong Changin. Jeong Changin stared back at him. Then, he let out a calm sigh and nodded.

“Do as you please.”

As Jeong Changin’s answer fell, Riegrow nodded, seemingly satisfied. Watching him slowly tighten his interlocked hands on the desk, Jeong Changin inwardly clicked his tongue bitterly.

However, in reality, Jeong Changin had no intention of getting involved more than he already was, even if Riegrow hadn’t said those words. He wasn’t foolish enough to interfere in another person’s life when they didn’t want him to. Also, Jeong Taeui loved people who blended into his life, but he didn’t like people who intruded upon it. He suddenly recalled a young man who was closer to the latter. The day after Jeong Taeui left this place, that young man also came looking for him. He said he was on his way after submitting his resignation at the office and would head straight to the pier. And he asked Jeong Changin the same thing Riegrow had: Jeong Taeui’s whereabouts.

The young man, who eventually left without an answer, was much gaunter than Jeong Changin remembered. Seeing the poisonous stubbornness on his expressionless face, Jeong Changin had clicked his tongue. Come to think of it, where would that young man be now?

Thinking such thoughts, Jeong Changin shook his head and looked at his watch. The hands had already passed midnight and were heading towards dawn. He sighed and changed the subject.

“By the way, what did Kyle contact you about?”

***

Jeong Taeui was unhappy.

There are countless reasons why a person might feel unhappy. And in most of those cases, when looked back upon later, they often turn out to be trivial and insignificant matters.

Jeong Taeui knew this. Perhaps in a few years, he would be able to recall this time with indifference. At most, he might frown or mutter curses for a few minutes while talking about it, but that would be all; this unhappiness would not feel the same magnitude of unhappiness later. He already knew well that time heals all things. But even knowing all that, he was unhappy. Even though he knew that in a few years, no, not even a few years, but just a few months, he wouldn’t fully relive this unhappiness, at this moment he was unbearably miserable.

His unhappiness wasn’t just because he had a cast on his ankle. The smell from his foot or the itchiness due to the cast in this hot season were secondary issues. His unhappiness was also not because his ankle hurt. He was already used to pain, so he wouldn’t even flinch at this much. The fact that he had to stay put after his ankle got messed up trying to leave this house wasn’t a cause for unhappiness either. Jeong Taeui had only thought countless times that he should leave this place because of his old colleague, who wasn’t very discreet, but he didn’t dislike this place. Depending on how one looked at it, being able to stay longer in this house could even be considered a good thing.