Passion Novel - Volume 5 - Chapter 106 - The Heart's Counsel

Seringe Island Area: Approximately 840 km². Population: Approximately 150,000. Located about 45 km off the coast of Tanganyika in the Indian Ocean. A flat island formed from coral limestone, it falls within a tropical monsoon climate. The rainy season is from April to May, followed by a fresh dry season with southwesterly monsoons from June to October. Another rainy season occurs from November to December, and a hot dry season with northeasterly monsoons from December to March. The average annual rainfall is around 1,500 mm, and even during the hot dry season, the wind makes it relatively pleasant. The main crops are coconuts and cloves (a source of spices), while rice cultivation takes place in the lowlands. Other food crops and fruits are also grown, which, along with fishing, enable the residents to be self-sufficient in food.

Jeong Taeui stared intently at the paragraph, as if trying to memorize it whole, before finally closing his laptop.

What did it matter how many square kilometers an island floating in the Indian Ocean off the east coast of Africa was, how many people lived there, what its climate was like, or what its industries were? A map would have been far more useful, but no map service site, no matter how thoroughly he searched, showed one.

It was described as a small island. Even if it was small, its area, slightly less than half of Jeju Island, meant finding a single person within it wouldn’t be easy. However, according to Kyle’s brief explanation, which was more useful than the paltry encyclopedia entry, the main residential areas were fortunately divided into three or four locations. Among these, the area where outsiders—primarily wealthy individuals from the Middle East—had their villas was a part of the southeastern coast.

Jeong Jaeui was somewhere there. Or rather, there was a high probability he was there.

Jeong Taeui limped to the bed and flopped down. The sun was directly overhead. Though the awning blocked it from entering the room, it shimmered blindingly on the window frame of the wide-open window, which often served as a door.

He casually draped an arm over the large window, which was barely a handspan higher than the bed, and gazed outside. A cool, blue swimming pool was just a few steps away. Lying prone on the bed, Jeong Taeui watched the pool, his heavily bandaged leg twitching regretfully, and then the empty beach bench beside it.

On the bench, a book lay open and face down, as if evidence that someone had been sitting there just moments ago. Now he noticed a half-empty can of beer on the small wooden table next to it. He had only just seen the can.

“…”

Jeong Taeui licked his lips and glared at the can. Schultheiss. Damn it. I can drink beer too. Did you drink it all by yourself?

Jeong Taeui grumbled inwardly, recalling the man who had been sitting there moments before.

After a somewhat late lunch, while Jeong Taeui was lounging in his room, the man, Ilay Riegrow, had taken an old, worn book from the study and sat by the pool to read. When the day grew hotter, he would simply jump into the pool for a swim, then emerge and pick up his book again. He truly seemed to be enjoying a relaxed and leisurely vacation.

Jeong Taeui thought it was extremely fortunate, but surprisingly, Ilay didn’t interfere with anything Jeong Taeui did. Whether he napped in his room, got snacks from the dining room, or rummaged through books in the study, Ilay not only refrained from interfering but simply enjoyed his own free time swimming in the pool or reading.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising after all. It had been the same at UNHRDO. Outside of regular duties, he didn’t care what Jeong Taeui did. Not just Jeong Taeui, but Ilay Riegrow was a man indifferent to everyone. Though it was sometimes frightening how he seemed to see through everyone despite his indifference.

Yet, despite all that.

At times, he possessed an almost animalistic intuition that could suddenly send shivers down the spine of anyone nearby. Perhaps this was consistent with his “ability to see through anyone.”

For instance, earlier, when Jeong Taeui, sitting by the window and fiddling with his laptop, was about to get up to ask Rita for a snack, he happened to glance out the window. Ilay had just finished swimming, was briskly drying himself with a beach towel, and was about to sit on the bench and open his book.

Jeong Taeui watched him, noting that he paid almost no attention to Jeong Taeui’s movements, and for a brief moment, he fell into thought. He wondered, with about 50% sincerity, if he could succeed if he pretended to go to the supermarket for ice cream and then just bolted. If it had been any ordinary opponent, Jeong Taeui would have tried it. In a one-on-one situation, it was easier to evade than to defend. He was confident he could escape safely in most cases.

But that bastard is anything but ordinary…

Jeong Taeui inwardly clicked his tongue and sighed as he watched Ilay turn a page.

It was precisely then.

‘The success or failure of an endeavor is generally determined by one’s judgment. This is a premise that can be applied to most aspects… Such a seemingly ordinary yet profound wisdom can be found in sentences like this, don’t you think?’

He tapped the page with his fingertip and suddenly read the passage aloud in a low voice. Jeong Taeui flinched, but outwardly showed no reaction, casually rubbing his chest, which had instinctively tightened for a moment, and tilted his head, asking, “Really?” Ilay dropped his indifferent gaze from the book and glanced at Jeong Taeui.

‘It doesn’t seem wrong.’

“But so what?” Jeong Taeui added with a shrug. Ilay turned his gaze back to the book and muttered casually,

‘For example, choosing to embark on a dangerous adventure when one’s condition is at its peak… Even that much could be considered decent judgment, regardless of whether the adventure is realistically feasible.’

“…”

Jeong Taeui tapped his bandaged foot lightly on the floor. His body, especially from the waist down, had been sluggish as if soaked in water since morning, and for a moment, he remained rooted to the spot.

Damn it. What kind of monster is that guy?

Jeong Taeui inwardly cursed a stream of profanities and headed for the dining room. He had thought about going to buy ice cream—without any ulterior motive—but that idea had vanished.

After getting an egg tart from Rita and dutifully returning to his room, Jeong Taeui glared disapprovingly at Ilay, who was leisurely reading by the pool outside the window, and then opened his laptop. It was around that time that Rita came to call Ilay, saying that Hong Kong had contacted him and he should go to the study.

At the mention of contact from Hong Kong, Ilay momentarily showed a displeased expression, as if he had received a call from work during his vacation, but he promptly left his seat.

Well, it must be annoying to be disturbed by work while relaxing like that, Jeong Taeui muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on his laptop, but only after Ilay’s figure disappeared from his sight did he frown.

However, on second thought, that guy wasn’t receiving a call during his vacation. He was strictly on unauthorized leave. If he complained about getting a call in such a situation, that would be utterly shameless.

“Contact from Hong Kong, huh. Urging an immediate return, something like that….When will he leave…?”

Jeong Taeui rolled halfway over on the bed and muttered, staring at the painfully blue sky.

But what he was truly curious about wasn’t when Ilay would return to Hong Kong. It was how Ilay would decide his own fate. Unless quiting UNHRDO, he would have to return to Hong Kong. In that case, what would he do with Jeong Taeui at that point?

Let him go willingly, drag him to Hong Kong, cleanly eliminate him, or break his limbs and confine him somewhere.

Jeong Taeui began listing the immediate possibilities, but then shivered and quickly spread his fingers again. The last option was the worst. He’d rather have the third. The first seemed impossible even if he died and came back to life, and considering the situation, the second seemed the most plausible, but…

“I don’t like that either.”

Jeong Taeui muttered with a sigh.

If it had been just yesterday, he might have resigned himself, thinking, “Whether it’s Hong Kong or anywhere else, if I’m with that guy, it’s all the same.” But now, Jeong Taeui had a place he wanted to go.

Seringe.

The place where his brother was.

The place where his brother’s whereabouts, which he had tried every possible means to discover, had finally been found. The place where his brother, whom Jeong Taeui himself hadn’t seen for a long time was.

Jeong Taeui squinted his eyes against the dazzling blue sky. He shielded his eyes from the light with the back of his hand and suddenly muttered to himself,

“Kidnapped and confined…”

It felt very unfamiliar.

Jeong Jaeui and kidnapping/confinement. It seemed to fit perfectly, yet in reality, there were few combinations less suited.

From before, countless people and organizations coveted Jeong Jaeui. There were also innumerable individuals willing to resort to drastic measures like kidnapping. However, there had never been a single successful attempt at such an illicit act. If Jeong Jaeui truly had been kidnapped and confined…

“Unless the culprit is luckier than my brother…”

“I doubt such a person exists, but even if they did, someone that lucky wouldn’t have needed to kidnap Jeong Jaeui in the first place.”

Suddenly, a low voice spoke from nearby.

Damn it. Can’t a guy make a joke?

Jeong Taeui closed his eyes completely. He felt as if his leg was throbbing even more, perhaps just his imagination.

He distinctly remembered closing the door when he came in, and if his memory served him right, that door’s hinges were stiff and made a faint creaking sound when opened or closed. Yet, this man was already leaning against the doorway without a sound.

“Peaceful, isn’t it? The sunlight must make you sleep well.”

“…Hmm… I barely slept yesterday.”

Jeong Taeui tried to sound as languid as possible, which wasn’t hard as he truly felt languid. He wanted to keep his mouth shut now that his eyes were closed, but he knew without testing that silence wouldn’t work with this man.

“Was the bed uncomfortable? My brother puts a lot of effort into the guest rooms. Yes, even the bed you’re lying on right now was specially ordered and took months to arrive.”

Ilay, who had been standing as silently as a cat, stepped into the room. Creak, the wooden floor gave a faint groan. Jeong Taeui instantly flared up, his fists clenching.

Was the bed uncomfortable? Is that what you call it, you son of a bitch?

But Ilay—that damned Ilay Riegrow, whom the man’s brother had very euphemistically described as having a “unique personality”—must have said that knowing full well. This was evident from the way he lightly tapped the white knuckles of Jeong Taeui’s fist, which had instinctively clenched the blanket.

“Why are you clenching your fist…? You look like you’re about to wrestle a bear.”

At the subtly amused voice, Jeong Taeui squinted his eyes again. He saw long, pale fingers slowly tapping his knuckles. The glass-like fingernails gleamed in the light. Indeed, Jeong Taeui’s ordinary, unassuming hands seemed more suited for gripping a weapon or clenching a fist than those pale, beautiful hands.

However, Jeong Taeui subtly moved his hand away from beneath the pale fingers and muttered,

“I swear to God, if anyone’s going to wrestle a bear, it’ll be your hands, not mine.”

Ilay chuckled and then sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress didn’t even ripple much, even though the blanket, with Jeong Taeui still on it, was pulled a handspan or so.

He’s like a feline beast, Jeong Taeui briefly thought. But what kind of feline beast could wrestle a bear…?

Jeong Taeui buried his face in the blanket and shook his head, rubbing it. He wasn’t in good condition today. His mind had been in and out of focus since morning. He couldn’t concentrate on a single thought. He used to be told his concentration was good even when he wasn’t feeling well, but it seemed Jeong Taeui was past his prime.

Jeong Taeui sighed briefly, then suddenly turned his head. He felt no sign of Ilay since he had sat on the bed. A predator being this quiet was unsettling.

The moment Jeong Taeui’s gaze shifted towards Ilay, something flew towards him. Jeong Taeui barely managed to catch it, narrowly avoiding a painful blow to his nose. It was a beer can.

“I just got it from the fridge, so it should be cold.”

“…Thanks, I guess.”

It would have been more appreciated if you’d given it to me nicely, Jeong Taeui thought, carefully tearing open the tab, being mindful not to spill any beer on himself. If he hadn’t caught or dodged it, his nose might have been broken by now.

Muttering to himself, Jeong Taeui quickly emptied the refreshingly cold beer, just as Ilay had said, and then let out a long sigh. He hadn’t realized it himself, but he must have been thirstier than he thought.

After finishing the beer, he felt a slight thirst again.

Jeong Taeui regretfully shook the empty beer can, then thought about getting another one and suddenly looked at Ilay.

He was staring at Jeong Taeui. His eyes were sharp as blades but indifferent. Tap, tap, he tapped the sheet, seemingly deep in thought again.

“…”

Jeong Taeui’s lips twitched slightly.

Wait a minute… He doesn’t seem upset, so what is he thinking about while staring like that?

Jeong Taeui pulled the enamel pitcher on the bedside table closer. He bit onto its short spout and tilted the pitcher. Rita would be horrified, but he couldn’t help it. The cup was right behind Ilay, on the bookshelf. He was thirsty, but not so thirsty that he absolutely had to drink water. Still, it felt awkward to just stare blankly and say nothing.

At this point, if there was something new to make that man ponder, it must be the call from Hong Kong he’d received a little while ago.

Thinking about it, he’d left without even submitting a leave request, practically hijacked a private jet without following any procedures. Even Jeong Taeui, who was unfamiliar with UNHRDO’s various regulations, could roughly calculate that Ilay had caused a serious incident. Well, it wasn’t even a matter of human lives, so it was much better compared to the countless incidents he had caused before. He wasn’t the kind of person to bat an eye, whether he had to write a pile of disciplinary reports, get demoted, or be locked up in a detention facility.

“…”

A detention facility, huh… If he were locked up for just a few months, it would be more than he could ask for.

Jeong Taeui took the pitcher from his mouth and subtly glanced at Ilay before speaking.

“You said you got a call from Hong Kong. From UNHRDO? Probably because you came here. …Ah. Or maybe it’s related to weapons dealing.”

Only after speaking did he realize the latter possibility was quite strong. But regardless of the main topic, they surely wouldn’t have said nothing about his unauthorized departure from his post.

Ilay raised an eyebrow slightly, then nodded, saying, “Ah.” He shrugged casually and said,

“It wasn’t anything special. Just telling me to come back. They told me to return by tomorrow. It was even a message with the Director General’s personal signature.”

“By tomorrow? By tomorrow, then…—”

“Considering the time difference, I’d have to leave today.”

Ilay finished Jeong Taeui’s trailing sentence. Jeong Taeui looked at him blankly for a moment.

“Today…”

He glanced at the clock on the wall. The sun, having passed overhead, was slowly beginning its descent. Not much of “today” remained. From some perspectives, a fair amount of time was left, but certainly not enough for an immediate international departure.

Jeong Taeui closed his mouth and silently watched Ilay. For a moment, he recalled the first possibility he had considered earlier, but quickly dismissed it. He knew well that life wasn’t that easy.

“If I leave today…”

Jeong Taeui began slowly, waiting for him to say something.

Ilay, however, remained silent for a while. He tapped the sheet with his fingertips for a long time, as if there was so much to think about, before finally stopping his fingers.

“You’re going to find Jeong Jaei…?”

However, the words that came from Ilay’s mouth were somewhat unexpected. But at the same time, Jeong Taeui realized that this was also the most crucial keyword. And simultaneously, it was still unexpected. While it was the general way for rational people to first ascertain another’s intentions, he hadn’t thought it was this man’s way. He had thought it would be much more like this man to assert his own will regardless of Jeong Taeui’s wishes.

“…Yeah. Are you going to help?”

Jeong Taeui asked back with a feigned smile.

This man had to go to Hong Kong. Jeong Taeui wanted to go to Africa. Would he willingly leave Jeong Taeui alone, now that he had finally caught him? It didn’t seem likely. That was where the difficulty lay.

Ilay’s gaze narrowed as he looked at Jeong Taeui. Those thin, blade-like eyes, though he had seen them countless times, still sent shivers down his spine each time.

Jeong Taeui sullenly dropped his smile and grumbled,

“Don’t glare at me. I won’t ask for help. Just don’t get in my way.”

That last sentence was what Jeong Taeui desired most, and it was also the future he wished for himself.

Ilay’s lips seemed to curve ever so slightly. His lips, which might or might not have been smiling, uttered a short sentence.

“To conclude, Jeong Taei, you are coming with me to Hong Kong on tonight’s flight.”

“…”

Jeong Taeui frowned, glaring disapprovingly at Ilay.

Yeah, I thought so. This is indeed his way.

“Then why did you ask?” Jeong Taeui muttered, sighing bitterly. Now was the time to seriously consider his options. What should he do here?

In truth, if Ilay Riegrow simply dragged him to Hong Kong without further ado, Jeong Taeui had no way to escape. There was no way to run away while this man, with all his limbs intact, watched him with both eyes open, nor did he have the ability to confront him, knock him down, and get past him.

Then, like last time, he should exploit a moment of carelessness, drug him, and just run away… but if he did that… unless he got a new ID, he’d be caught by the scruff of his neck before he even entered the airport gate.

It might be faster to procure a new identity. Though he wasn’t sure if that was possible with this man watching him. Moreover, this man wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice. Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue, scratched his head, and then glanced up at Ilay.

“Do I have a right of refusal?”

“No.”

The calm reply came as soon as the words left his mouth. He knew it.

“Then what if I stopped somewhere else first?”

“If you can go from Berlin to Dar es Salaam, transfer to a light aircraft to Seringe, find Jeong Jaeui there, then leave Dar es Salaam again for Berlin—no, Johannesburg would be faster from there, via Johannesburg to Hong Kong, and arrive within tomorrow, then that’s fine.”

“…”

Jeong Taeui counted inwardly how many times he had wanted to rip that leisurely muttering mouth wide open, but he gave up counting as two hands weren’t enough.

He had a mountain of things he wanted to say, but knowing full well that saying any of them wouldn’t even break even, Jeong Taeui kept his mouth shut. Ilay, who had been steadily watching Jeong Taeui, suddenly spoke.

“Taei. You should have thought about this at least once.”

“…?”

“Jeong Jaeui is incredibly lucky. Although he’s said to have been kidnapped and confined, no one would believe that at face value. If he truly wanted to, returning home without a scratch would have been effortless for him. But despite that, there’s been no contact. Not even to you.”

“…”

“Perhaps Jeong Jaei doesn’t want to see you in the first place—have you never thought that?”

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at Ilay. It wasn’t a teasing tone, nor a probing one. He simply spoke casually, as if stating a thought that had occurred to him, and nodded his head.

“Well… that could be. If so, then even if I go to Seringe, I won’t be able to meet my brother.”

Jeong Taeui shrugged and muttered.

Even if Jeong Jaeui were right outside this door, let alone in Seringe, if he didn’t want to meet Jeong Taeui, Jeong Taeui would never be able to see him.

“But I don’t think that’s likely. Just because he doesn’t think about wanting to meet me, doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t want to meet me.”

Jeong Taeui waved his hand and said casually.