Passion Novel - Volume 5 - Chapter 108

The young man exchanged a few more words of greeting and hung up. Kyle sighed lightly and put his phone back in his pocket. He then looked up at the ceiling, blinked a couple of times, and finally picked up the call he had put on hold.

“Sorry, did you wait long?”

‘Two minutes and a bit. It’s fine. I was just tidying up some work too. So, what did Rick say?’

“Hmm. It was a farewell. He said he’s going to Hong Kong right away.”

“…”

A brief silence came from the other end of the line. He was clearly thinking about the correlation between Rick and a farewell.

“It was your nephew. Ilay’s number showed up, so I thought it was him, but it wasn’t.”

‘Ah. Taeui? He’s going to Hong Kong? Not Tanzania? …Ah. Right, Rick caught him.’

The voice on the phone, adding, poor guy, was not joking. Kyle genuinely agreed with that statement. Kyle was silent for a moment. Then, a mutter escaped his lips.

“That’s really strange, strange…”

That low, ambiguous murmur must have been heard across the phone, but his friend didn’t ask anything. Well, perhaps he wasn’t the only one who found it strange. Kyle pondered for a moment but couldn’t come to a conclusion, so he asked his friend.

“What exactly did Taei do to Ilay to make him run away?”

‘…Well. He seemed to have been living quietly until his stress level exceeded the limit at some point… …It’s somewhat my fault.’

His friend’s voice even sounded depressed. Kyle tilted his head in confusion. His mind was still unclear, but he decided to drop the subject there. He had finished reviewing the fax in his hand.

“Anyway, your nephew… it seems that genius, who has become our institute’s greatest public enemy, is indeed in Seringe.”

‘Did you get any new information?’

“Hmm. It seems to be Raman Abid Al Saud.”

‘Raman… Ah. Is that the man who is under Prince Faisal?’

Kyle closed his mouth and raised an eyebrow.

It wasn’t surprising, but still, this friend sometimes surprised him. Of course, he knew that his friend also had his own subordinate intelligence agency, but knowing that man was a separate issue from having an intelligence network.

“You know him well. He’s a man who has always been quietly hidden, never really standing out. I only heard his name when I was searching for Jeong Jaeui’s whereabouts.”

‘No, it’s a coincidence. It was a few years ago, I met that man. To be precise, I only saw him accompanying Faisal as his attendant, so we didn’t talk much. He stood out in my memory because he was a prince, but his claim to the throne was far down the line.’

“He stood out in your memory because his claim to the throne was low?”

‘Hmm… He was a regrettable figure.’

Kyle muttered, “Haa,” as his friend paused to choose his words, then concluded his sentence carefully.

“A regrettable figure, huh. …You judged him well. They say he played a part in the growth of Faisal’s businesses, which shifted their focus from the succession struggle early on. Though it’s not widely known.”

‘Aha. So he’s like T&R’s James, then.’

Kyle clicked his tongue bitterly at his friend’s amused voice.

“Well, you could say that. If you mean a person who holds real power. Anyway—it seems that friend took our researcher very politely, secretly, and somewhat coercively.”

‘…But as far as I know, Faisal didn’t deal in military supplies.’

“That’s what I thought too. Well, we can consider a few possibilities. It’s something we need to look into further.”

‘Hmm. Did Raman have a villa in Seringe?’

“Yes. He bought the entire most expensive plot of land there. Moreover, for the past year or so, Raman has been quite frail and doesn’t seem to leave that place very often.”

His friend murmured, “Hmm.” Over the phone, it seemed as if he was nodding.

Kyle scanned the data Gable had sent once more. Based on that data, he jotted down additional things to investigate to ascertain its veracity or eliminate expected possibilities. His heart grew heavy at the thought that handing this memo to James would only increase his workload, and James would glare at him like a knife. He wished it could be solved by giving him a generous bonus, but it was no longer a situation that money could fix. (If he were to say such a thing, he’d likely be nagged to do some work himself, with James even offering him money.)

“Hey, Changin. I’m scared of James.”

Kyle muttered heavily, rereading the investigation tasks that had consumed several pages of memo paper. His friend, seemingly at a loss for words, just made comforting sounds like, “Yeah, yeah.”

“So, you take some responsibility for getting Jaei out of there.”

‘Ah? Ah… right, I will. Though I don’t know if it’ll go well.’

“It’s not just James I’m scared of. Our research institute’s director is scary too. Just mentioning Jeong Jaeui’s ‘J’ makes his eyes bloodshot with rage. He’s firmly resolved to dissect that damn genius’s brain before he dies. He was seriously looking into taking a brain dissection research course recently, you know.”

His friend laughed aloud, finding it amusing. Kyle sighed. He muttered weakly, “It’s not a joke,” but his friend didn’t stop laughing for a while.

‘Well, if Gable has looked into it and contacted you, then Jaeui is probably there nine times out of ten. Then what we need to consider is how that lucky guy ended up being kidnapped and confined for several months…’

His friend, who had finally stopped laughing, muttered with lingering amusement in his voice. And Kyle concisely stated the answer, which his friend must also have been thinking.

“He probably just doesn’t want to be released from there, that’s all.”

There was no other answer. Unless Jeong Jaeui’s astonishing luck had vanished overnight. But why would that luck, which had lasted for decades, suddenly disappear?

‘Well… maybe it’s because he cut the string.’

His friend suddenly muttered. Kyle raised an eyebrow at the ambiguous words, which sounded like he was talking to himself. But without a word, he pressed a button to call James and picked up the next document.

“Anyway, that’s all the news for today. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

‘Alright. It doesn’t seem like it’ll be smooth sailing, though. …I’m suddenly starting to hold a grudge against Moro too.’

His friend, who seemed to be calculating something for a moment, muttered with a sigh and then hung up after a couple of words of greeting.

Today, the Repulse Bay Centre somehow didn’t seem normal.

Jeong Taeui suddenly had that thought, then immediately shook his head. No, it wasn’t just today. It seemed that the days when the Repulse Bay Centre would seem normal would never come again in Jeong Taeui’s life. Unless T&R moved out of there…

“No, even if they moved, Repulse Bay Centre has already become a deep trauma in my mind.”

Jeong Taeui muttered, gazing vaguely at the Repulse Bay Centre directly visible through the transparent glass.

Thinking that Chinese geomancers might be quite effective, Jeong Taeui turned his head. Then he took a beer from the in-room bar.

It had been several days since he arrived in Hong Kong. Jeong Taeui was confined in a hotel room across from the Repulse Bay Centre.

In fact, it was slightly different from the dictionary definition of “confinement.” Jeong Taeui could, according to his will, play in the hotel’s casino or bar, or even go outside and wander around Hong Kong. He didn’t have many places to call, but he could freely call anyone.

Even right now, Jeong Taeui had just returned after reading a book he had bought a few days ago and stacked in his room, then gotten bored and aimlessly wandered the streets.

“But even with surveillance, isn’t that still confinement, nothing else?”

Jeong Taeui grumbled softly. Who knew? There might even be surveillance cameras or listening devices in this room. But he didn’t care. Let them listen if they wanted. He wasn’t saying anything wrong. For several days now, Jeong Taeui had been trapped behind these invisible bars.

As soon as they returned to Hong Kong, Ilay left Jeong Taeui alone in the hotel and went to the UNHRDO Asia branch by himself. After Ilay disappeared, leaving only the words to “play quietly for a few days” without any further explanation, Jeong Taeui was momentarily blank.

Ilay was gone.

Without Jeong Taeui having any intention of escaping or looking for an opportunity, Ilay had turned his back cleanly and vanished first.

For a very brief moment, the thought, What a windfall! crossed his mind, but it quickly disappeared.

Thinking about it, Jeong Taeui had no way to escape even if Ilay disappeared from his sight right now, unless he came up with a clever plan again. He had no means to leave the country without a passport or other identification, short of illegal entry. And of course, no fool would attempt illegal entry without identification, planning a proper escape.

Identity.

It was the most basic requirement for doing anything illegal. There was very little one could do without an identity. Considering safety, it was almost nothing.

He thought about forging a new identity and running away again, but that thought also vanished as soon as it crossed his mind. Ilay wasn’t the kind of person to fall for the same trick twice, and the “technicians” who could genuinely create forged identities were limited. Jeong Taeui didn’t know how to contact such technicians without going through someone else, and even if he tried, he could vividly imagine Ilay showing up instead and sitting there, waiting at the meeting point with the technician.

Forget it. My life is always on the brink, even when I’m behaving, so why try to die?

Jeong Taeui, who had been sprawled on the bed, suddenly got up. And looked out the window.

The menacing Repulse Bay Centre was the first thing that caught his eye, and Jeong Taeui instinctively frowned. It was in such a clear, well-visible location that he suspected Ilay had deliberately chosen this room. Jeong Taeui quickly turned his head away.

The sun had long set, but the city, a city that never slept, was as bright as day. Looking down from this vantage point, this large city, which somehow seemed very unfamiliar, Jeong Taeui had returned to it not long after leaving.

Running away so boldly, and yet somehow it feels pathetic…

Jeong Taeui awkwardly scratched his head and turned around.

It was the first day back in Hong Kong, a place he hadn’t expected to visit for a long time. Moreover, whatever the future held, he was currently alone. For a bleak and miserable future, he would sit at a port overlooking the Kowloon Peninsula and drink beer alone.

He thought someone might be standing guard inside the room door, blocking his way, but no one stopped him until he left the hotel. Literally without any obstruction, Jeong Taeui walked out of the hotel. It was the moment he briefly entertained the futile hope that he might just bolt right then and there. He was exactly ten steps out of the hotel.

At that moment, Jeong Taeui suddenly stopped.

“…”

Jeong Taeui sighed, looking up at the reddish night sky where no stars were visible.

Let’s see, one guy following me… two… No, just one.

A bellboy’s curious gaze approached Jeong Taeui’s back, as he had lightly stepped out the hotel’s main entrance but then suddenly stopped exactly ten steps away and was staring blankly at the sky. And from somewhere a little further away, there was one more gaze watching him.

Jeong Taeui remained there for a moment, then suddenly chuckled and walked on, limping, his still-unhealed foot touching the ground.

He wouldn’t have thought him such a fool; if he had put someone like that on him, Ilay must have known Jeong Taeui would quickly notice. In his current state, with his leg not fully recovered, it would be difficult to escape no matter who was assigned to him. No wonder. Yes, he wouldn’t just release his prey from the cage and leisurely disappear. No, more than that, this wasn’t for surveillance. It was merely a means to let Jeong Taeui know he wasn’t just left alone. Wherever Jeong Taeui went, it was within invisible bars.

Actually, it’s not particularly unpleasant, but if I wanted to be annoyed, I certainly could be…

Jeong Taeui ambled along the street as if taking a stroll, assessing the situation. He couldn’t be certain, but he felt he could probably shake them off if he put his mind to it. After all, he was quite confident in escaping from anyone but the most formidable opponents. If there was only one person, and his leg had been fine, he could have just run a 100-meter dash and shaken them off.

Although his leg wasn’t fully recovered, Jeong Taeui considered attempting it but then gave up. He didn’t want to needlessly expend energy if they weren’t directly harming him, and honestly, even if he managed to shake off the surveillance and safely leave Hong Kong, he wasn’t confident he could shake off Ilay Riegrow, now that his identity had been revealed.

If he ran away again and got caught… Oh, what a brilliant life. This time, he might actually lose his limbs.

Jeong Taeui’s heart pounded as he recalled the chilling feeling he had when he encountered Ilay in the birch forest. If he had been a little weaker, his heart might have stopped at that moment.

Having an unfamiliar gaze constantly following him was unwelcome, but there was nothing he could do about it. He went into a late-night bookstore and bought books, walked the streets and bought drinks, visited the night market for snacks, and even though he wasn’t particularly interested, he went into an arcade selling camera equipment to browse. Then he returned to the hotel after enjoying a couple of beers at a shabby pub in a secluded spot by the sea.

During all that time, though the gaze followed him, he was never interfered with. If he thought about it a little differently, it was a hundred times better to have such an almost imperceptible gaze following him than to have Ilay himself right beside him.

It continued to be the same afterwards.

Whenever Jeong Taeui went for a walk—or, more precisely, from the moment he left his room—the trailing gaze relentlessly followed him. However, there was no interference whatsoever.

The day before yesterday, wondering how far the non-interference would go, he grabbed only his passport, wallet, and other essentials and took a bus to the airport. He had a tiny thought of subtly leaving the country if there was no intervention until the very end. But indeed, they wouldn’t let him off that easily. The phone rang as soon as he arrived at the airport. It was an unknown number, but he already knew who was calling before he even answered.

No, I really wasn’t trying to leave, I’m not that stupid, he thought, preparing his excuses as he answered the phone. But his excuses seemed to have been fully anticipated already. With hardly any anger, the familiar voice simply grumbled as if annoyed,

‘Your passport—or Kim Youngsoo’s passport—won’t clear customs anyway, so just enjoy the airport and go back. It’s hard for me to leave right now, so don’t bother me.’

With those words, he hung up without waiting for a reply.

Jeong Taeui stood in the middle of the airport, glaring at his phone. Ha, a hollow laugh escaped him. Travel ban. Right, there’s no place he can’t control. To even impose a travel ban on him, it felt like he was some great criminal. He thought about breaking the neck of the surveillance guy following him and actually taking a stowaway ship.

But in the end, Jeong Taeui had no choice but to do as he was told, sightseeing at the airport and returning. And that day, as soon as he returned to the hotel, he completely emptied the mini-bar in his room. From bottled water, which cost as much as a cocktail at a fancy bar for a 500ml bottle, to all sorts of drinks and snacks—except beer—he poured everything down the toilet, furiously beating the diamond spoon, which wouldn’t bat an eye at that much money, with a cotton ball.

But now that he thought about it…

“…If they make me pay the room bill when I check out, that’ll be a real disaster…”

Jeong Taeui muttered, glaring fiercely at the Repulse Bay Centre.

Another day was drawing to a close. The day after tomorrow was Friday.

If Ilay’s routine was the same as before, he would come out of the island to Hong Kong on Friday night to handle company matters over the weekend. Perhaps Jeong Taeui’s brief respite would end then. But even so, what would he do? Ilay would have to return to the branch when the weekdays returned. And Jeong Taeui, no longer affiliated with UNHRDO, couldn’t enter there.

Surely he wasn’t planning to keep him cooped up in the hotel like this. Working him to death on weekends and leaving him alone on weekdays. Surely not. He wasn’t some local mistress…

Thinking that, Jeong Taeui suddenly fell silent. The taste of beer instantly dropped, and he muttered a strange sound, “Ugh…” before flopping onto the bed.

“Has your life really hit rock bottom, Jeong Taeui… hey.”

Jeong Taeui struggled painfully, trying desperately to erase the chilling words from his mind, then collapsed, exhausted. He stared blankly at the ceiling with lifeless eyes.

Suddenly, a vaguely heard voice flickered through his mind.

—Shut your mouth and follow me obediently. I won’t stop you from meeting Jeong Jaeui.

“…”

He hadn’t misheard.

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at the ceiling, then abruptly sat up. I won’t stop you from meeting Jeong Jaeui, he had clearly said that.

As far as Jeong Taeui knew, Ilay Riegrow, though extremely unpredictable and difficult to understand, did not make empty promises. Especially not promises of that kind. In fact, Jeong Taeui’s relatively quiet stay in the hotel, occasionally going for walks, might have been partly due to those words.

“Is he going to drag my brother here or something?”

He blurted out, then shook his head. Dismiss that thought for now. The idea of someone like Jeong Jaeui being dragged around by anyone was unimaginable.

The most likely possibility was, If you behave, I’ll let you go find your brother.

Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps Ilay, having decided to be kind-hearted, had decided to give Jeong Taeui special consideration.

“…A person with too much time on their hands thinks all sorts of things.”

Ilay being kind-hearted, he thought, that’s as unimaginable as Jeong Jaeui being dragged around by someone.

Among the various possibilities he could pinpoint, the most plausible one, when considering reality, was one: mutual interest.

Finding Jeong Jaeui might be a threat to some, but for organizations and companies related to Ilay, it definitely led to a clear advantage. At the same time, if they lost the advantage—Jeong Taeui personally wanted to phrase it this way, as from an organizational perspective, Jeong Jaeui was no longer viewed from a human perspective—they could suffer significant losses.

In other words, Jeong Taeui bringing Jeong Jaeui would be advantageous to the organization, and by extension, to Ilay Riegrow. Since Jeong Taeui, who could no longer escape, could be easily found anywhere in the world, it would be beneficial for Ilay to put aside his petty grudge and send Jeong Taeui to Jeong Jaeui.

“…But I’m still not keen on that either.”

Jeong Taeui muttered bitterly. He just wanted to see his brother.

He didn’t think about bringing his brother back, or rescuing him, or anything like that. He just wanted to meet him after a long time, exchange a few words to ease his longing, and then say, “Goodbye for now. See you later.”

Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue and scratched the back of his neck.

But even so, if he were released on the condition of bringing his brother back, Jeong Taeui would, of course, be willing to agree for his own peace of mind.

As he thought about this, his chest and mind grew increasingly complicated, and Jeong Taeui needlessly pulled at his perfectly fine hair. He could only lament his bizarre fate.

Jeong Taeui abruptly stood up. He had just returned to the room, but he felt stifled again. When his mind was cluttered with thoughts, moving his body to distract himself was the best solution. He already knew that if he huddled quietly when depressed, the gloom would gradually swell like a monster and eventually consume him. He also knew that it was never a pleasant feeling.

He realized it about half an hour after leaving the hotel. Jeong Taeui sat on a bench in Mid-Levels, sipping orange juice and looking up at the darkening sky and he thought quietly.

Why had the tail suddenly doubled?

At first, he hadn’t noticed. He thought there was nothing one couldn’t get used to, and since the surveillance had been relentlessly following him for days, he had mostly ignored it. He had nothing embarrassing to show, and he truly had no intention of running to the harbor to catch a stowaway ship. As long as they didn’t overstep, he wouldn’t interfere with them either.

So he walked around without a care, and then suddenly realized. Something feels strange, but what is it? He thought casually, then noticed. The tail had somehow doubled.

Jeong Taeui quickly finished his juice, then, with the straw still in his mouth, pulled it out and dangled it, thinking quietly.

Did they add another one because I pretended to run to the airport? What’s the point of adding another one when both of us clearly know it’s just a formality?

Jeong Taeui sighed. Moreover, the newly added tail wasn’t even that competent. He could easily shake them off if he put his mind to it.

“Even if I can’t run off anywhere else, isn’t this too much…? I wouldn’t ask for someone so competent that I wouldn’t even notice their presence, but still, this is too much.”

Jeong Taeui chewed on the straw and grumbled. Then he put the straw back in the cup, threw it into the trash can right next to the bench, and stood up.

Let’s think positively. Maybe they added another one so they could play nicely together.

“If so… then I guess I’ll play.”

He was bored anyway. He decided to think of it as a good thing. Jeong Taeui put his hands in his pockets and slowly walked out. And as if taking a stroll—which it actually was—he walked up a gentle slope, slowly surveying his surroundings.