Passion Novel - Volume 6 - Chapter 133

Jeong Taeui’s eyes widened slightly. He lowered his gaze to his hand resting on his knee and stared at it silently. It was a hand he had had since birth, always with him, yet it looked strangely unfamiliar. As unfamiliar as Jeong Jaeui before him. Perhaps he looked that way in his brother’s eyes now.

Jeong Taeui looked back at him.

But he was Jeong Jaeui. The one Jeong Taeui loved, no, didn’t even acknowledge he loved, another Jeong Taeui. He smiled.

“The reason is too flimsy…”

Jeong Jaeui faintly smiled along.

As if he had said all he needed to say, he stood up. Jeong Taeui also stood up, following his brother’s slow, light steps as he passed him and ascended the stairs.

Soil was clinging to the white, polished stone. Following the faint traces, Jeong Taeui watched Jeong Jaeui’s back, walking five steps ahead.

His back was as straight and unwavering as ever. Just like his nature.

This place was perfectly isolated from the outside.

There were eight doors in total—a grand door in the center of each of the four corridors, and a small side door at each corner where the corridors met. Yet this annex was completely isolated, existing as one secluded entity.

The four grand doors, though clearly not mere decorations, were firmly locked. The large iron gates, which looked like they would require several strong men to open, seemed impossible to open alone even if they weren’t locked.

The four side doors at the end of the corridors each split into two paths: one leading indoors and one leading outdoors. The doors leading indoors connected to the interior of the building, such as bedrooms or studies. And all but one of the doors leading outdoors were locked.

Even if one went through that single door leading to the inner courtyard, it wasn’t truly the outside. Separated by a high wall, the spacious courtyard, though not feeling claustrophobic, was a dead-end.

The other three doors—leading who knows where—were likely exits from this annex to the outside, but two of them were locked. Not only were they locked, but their gaps were filled with plaster, rendering the doors completely unusable as doors.

The last one. The only remaining exit. And there, the Arab man stood. The man who guarded the door, watching Jeong Jaeui.

Jeong Taeui lay sprawled by the rectangular pond in the central courtyard—whose purpose he couldn’t discern. He wondered if it was a pool, but it came up only to his thighs, so swimming was out of the question, and it was too cold for a bath, situated in the very center of the courtyard. Nor were there any fish in it—and he sighed, splashing the water with his hands.

It was troublesome. That thought alone filled his mind.

Jeong Taeui had already been spending days here. During that time, he was trapped inside with Jeong Jaeui. Jeong Jaeui, as he had for months, was leading a life as calm as still water.

In truth, Jeong Taeui wouldn’t have been able to do it otherwise. No, if he could, he would have wanted to live like Jeong Jaeui.

He was, in fact, exhausted. The days he had spent resting his body and mind comfortably felt impossibly distant. His body, always rushed by time and circumstance, and his mind, overworked, were readily embracing this quiet life.

But.

“I’m scared of that guy…”

Jeong Taeui buried his head in his arms, still lying face down. Splash, his arm, submerged up to the elbow in the water, felt cool.

Ilay. Ilay Riegrow.

What was he doing outside now? One could bet his mood was extremely bad. But the problem was that he wasn’t someone who would simply stay in a bad mood.

Completely cut off from the outside, no news could be heard. That made him even more anxious.

“……”

Jeong Taeui splashed, splashed, hitting the surface of the water with his palm. A couple of large red petals floating on the surface swayed with the ripples.

“Ilay…”

He softly spoke the name aloud. So faintly it was barely audible, like the whisper of the wind.

Perhaps it was a good thing.

Being here, he could escape his grasp.

No one from the outside could touch this place. Neither T&R nor UNHRDO could exert their influence. If they dared to try, the owner of this place would simply move Jeong Jaeui somewhere else and feign ignorance. So, they couldn’t rashly extend their hand.

The same applied to Jeong Taeui, who was now in the same boat as Jeong Jaeui.

Being here, he could avoid that relentless pursuit, that ceaseless madness, that threat. It would be somewhat inconvenient not being able to go outside, but what was a little inconvenience compared to escaping that chilling, terrifying man?

“Right. In a way, it’s a good thing. Maybe I should have been overjoyed and blissfully spent my days here, thinking I’d struck gold. …If only I weren’t schizophrenic.”

Jeong Taeui, who had slightly lifted his head, let it flop back down again. His earlobes suddenly felt hot.

He slowly pushed his body forward while lying down and submerged his head in the water. Gurgle, gurgle, air bubbles escaped from his mouth, tickling his cheeks as they rose to the surface.

What do I do? This is ridiculous. I’ve finally (temporarily) escaped that guy, so why am I thinking of going back there? You’re truly insane, Jeong Taeui. Come to think of it, maybe that guy would just shrug it off with an indifferent face, saying, ‘That bastard ran off again,’ and click his tongue a few times.

…No way.

Then, suddenly, a question crossed his mind.

What did Ilay think he felt about Jeong Taeui?

“…Pooh-hah!”

Jeong Taeui suddenly lifted his head. He couldn’t hold his breath any longer. Water streamed down from his soaked hair, instantly drenching his neck and clothes.

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Jeong Taeui gasped for breath. Only then did he notice a pair of feet standing a few steps away.

A sudden sense of unfamiliarity washed over Jeong Taeui as he stared at his own feet. They were bare, exposed. A few steps ahead, he saw unfamiliar feet. The man was wearing leather shoes. For some reason, his bare feet and the feet hidden inside the shoes looked starkly different.

He lifted his head, and there was a familiar face. Familiar, but not friendly.

Raman Abid Al-Saud, the man with the long name, stood there with the gentle smile he usually wore when visiting the annex.

“Ah…—How long have you been there?”

Jeong Taeui squeezed the water from his hair and spoke. Raman replied curtly, “A little while,” and then looked down at him silently.

He knew Raman had come to the annex. He had seen him pass through the corridor to the study earlier. During the day, Jeong Jaeui was mostly in the study or the inner garden, so Raman would go to the nearby study first, and if Jeong Jaeui wasn’t there, he would then go to the inner garden.

He would visit the annex once a day without fail to see Jeong Jaeui. But he never stayed long or talked at length. His main purpose was always the same.

Have you decided to accept my offer today?

If you don’t accept, you cannot leave this place.

If you accept, you will be released from here, and I will also promise ample compensation beyond that.

However, Jeong Jaeui’s answer to those words was always consistent. From the looks of it, that exchange had been repeated constantly since Jeong Jaeui was confined here. So, Raman no longer showed any sign of disappointment or anger; if Jeong Jaeui refused, he would simply say, “Is that so?” and tell him to speak up if he changed his mind, then leave.

Today was no different. Jeong Taeui, hearing the familiar greetings as Raman entered the study, presumably having found Jeong Jaeui there, turned his attention away and lay down by the pond in the central courtyard. It seemed the day’s conversation had concluded while Jeong Taeui was loafing around, observing the corridor’s structure, and dipping his head in the water.

Jeong Taeui faced Raman, who stared down at him silently, his thoughts unreadable, and pushed back the hair plastered to his face from being drenched.

Is he mad I dipped my head in the pond? Surely it doesn’t have some religious significance, right?

Jeong Taeui feigned a smile and spoke.

“Why do you look so scary…? You’re not thinking you’d like to grab my head and drown me while I’m dipping it in here, are you?”

Jeong Taeui joked and laughed. Raman raised an eyebrow, then let out a low chuckle, “Haha.”

“Indeed, you are Jeong Jaeui’s brother. Your intuition is good; you’re alike.”

“……”

Is it an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a joke for a joke? Or is he perhaps serious?

Jeong Taeui clicked his tongue suspiciously and gave him a skeptical look. But he changed the subject without saying whether it was a joke or serious.

“How is it here? Is it comfortable to stay?”

“Ah…—It’s a bit stuffy not being able to get news from outside, but it’s alright. The interior is very pleasant.”

“That’s fortunate.”

Raman nodded and smiled.

Looking at him now, it was hard to believe this was the same man who, not long ago, had tried to kill Jeong Taeui with an utterly expressionless face. The very next day, as he politely greeted him with a gentle smile as if nothing had happened, Jeong Taeui even wondered if he might have a dual personality.

But after experiencing him for a few short days, he realized that wasn’t the case.

He was a man Jeong Taeui preferred not to deal with unless it was unavoidable.

Beyond being evil or vile, his personality felt utterly incompatible with Jeong Taeui’s.

In truth, Jeong Taeui already knew someone who, if one were to rank people by their sheer wickedness or unpleasantness, would be second to none. Of course, he didn’t get along well with that man either. If anyone said, “You two have such compatible personalities,” he would readily rip their mouth apart.

But apart from that, there was something about this man, Raman, that caused an uncomfortable sensation, akin to displeasure, when he was near.

Thinking back, he couldn’t pinpoint why. He had never seen such a strange aspect of his personality. No, objectively speaking, he might even be an admirable person in many ways. Nevertheless, this man was subtly vexing. Yes, it was very similar to displeasure.

Why? Jeong Taeui, pondering this, quickly grabbed the man, who seemed about to turn and leave, as if his words had been merely a formality.

“Ah, but…”

But he regretted it immediately after grabbing him. He had unknowingly clutched his sleeve, and the man’s ice-cold black eyes glanced at his hand. As he quickly let go, the man silently brushed off his sleeve once, and his voice, still gentle, replied.

“Is there something you wish to say?”

“I want to leave this place.”

Jeong Taeui said it, knowing perfectly well it wouldn’t work. Perhaps it was similar to Raman’s daily appeals to Jeong Jaeui to make weapons, despite knowing he would be rejected.

Raman listened to Jeong Taeui’s words and was silent for a moment. He stopped his movement and calmly looked down at him.

“You want to leave?”

“Yes. I…—have unfinished business outside.”

“Outside, you say. Does that unfinished business perhaps concern Ilay Riegrow of T&R, and Ling Huilong’s son, Ling Xinlu?”

Jeong Taeui closed his mouth. His lips twisted slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. On second thought, it was no surprise he knew. Enough time had passed for him to have thoroughly investigated how Jeong Taeui ended up here.

Jeong Taeui looked straight at him and chuckled.

“You’re well-informed.”

“Last night, I met some friends from my home country at the mosque and we spoke briefly, and the topic came up.”

Jeong Taeui raised an eyebrow. Raman’s lips curled slightly, as if smiling but not quite.

“One of my friends, who had come to this residence for a vacation yesterday morning, went out and was apparently accosted by someone named Riegrow.”

“Acco…—”

“He was looking for me, they said.”

Raman’s lips curled up a bit more. But his gaze, not at all joyful—rather, closer to annoyance and irritation—never left Jeong Taeui’s face. It was like a snake’s, or some other reptile’s, gaze, unsettlingly scrutinizing, as if trying to find something within Jeong Taeui’s expression.

The smile disappeared from Jeong Taeui’s face.

He had received such chilling gazes countless times. He was trained not to flinch this much.

But this creepy and unpleasant—yes, this feeling akin to unpleasantness was ominous—sensation was different from any threat Jeong Taeui had ever experienced.

“He was looking for you…?”

“Of course, at the time, I wasn’t in Seringe, as I was on my way here, having put my work aside after hearing news of an unwelcome guest in my home. But that poor friend, simply for being a Muslim with a residence in this vicinity, was wrongly accosted and had to leave Seringe immediately. There aren’t many places with such excellent medical facilities nearby, you see.”

“…”

“After that, I heard my friends were unfortunately hesitant to go out, fearing that ruffian. They asked who he was. So, it was easy for me to find out who he was.”

Raman slowly finished speaking. And he stared at Jeong Taeui with subtle eyes.

“It was easy to find out about him, as he’s a well-known figure from rumors. Ilay Riegrow, T&R’s incorrigible troublemaker. If you’re associating with such a famous individual, it seems you’re not as shabby and insignificant as your outward appearance suggests.”

Raman’s tone changed. It became slightly lower, and a little smoother. But the faint smile on his face didn’t change at all, which created an even more unsettling sense of unease.

“Don’t get me wrong. No matter how large, it’s just a company. No matter how much they might soar, it’s just a small family from the East that talks big. Do you think they can affect me in any way? Never. Even if they try to provoke me by attacking elsewhere, it won’t be difficult. I can just put Jeong Jaeui and you in an unknown underground prison and pretend I know nothing. Say they left on their own, that I released them. Do you think they can barge into my house with dirty feet and rummage through it? Never. Absolutely not.”

The words, quietly piercing his ears, flowed relentlessly. Jeong Taeui, expressionless, not even blinking once, stared intently at him. A few steps away, the man returned Jeong Taeui’s unflinching gaze.

“This is Gilsangcheon, you say…”

Suddenly, a cold, contemptuous voice emerged. His cold, cruel eyes scanned Jeong Taeui’s face again. It was a gaze almost akin to hatred. But hatred? He had no reason to feel such an emotion towards him. If anything, it should be the opposite.

“You don’t resemble Jeong Jaeui at all. This unsightly, ragged fellow, bringing him good fortune? It’s laughable. It’s not even funny.”

Raman spat through his teeth. Then, suddenly, with strange eyes, he glared at Jeong Taeui and said in a low voice.

“Why someone like you…?”

It was more a soliloquy than a question seeking an answer. Though he didn’t have to reply, Jeong Taeui silently stared at him before slowly opening his mouth.

“I don’t know why it’s me, and before that, I don’t think I bring my brother good fortune, so it’s a laughable and not-so-laughable story to me… but it’s not a story I want to hear from someone who imprisoned this unsightly, ragged fellow.”

Raman closed his mouth. And he narrowed his eyes slightly, gazing at Jeong Taeui.

Suddenly, he opened his lips, as if about to smile but not quite, and in his former tone, very politely, said:

“To conclude, you cannot leave here. You may leave when Jeong Jaeui leaves. So, if you wish to leave, I would like you to help me persuade him to accept my demands.”

Raman spoke unhesitatingly. At his blunt words, Jeong Taeui realized that perhaps this was what he had intended to say all along.

His gaze remained uniformly cold. Jeong Taeui wondered if those eyes would ever show warmth as he silently looked at him.

“As you must have heard, I am not asking too much of him. A weapon bearing his name, that’s all I need. Of course, it would be a lie to say I don’t expect it to be excellent if he makes it himself, but if he makes it, even if it’s just a regular anti-tank gun, that’s fine.”

“—I’m not sure how my brother’s name became such a famous weapon brand. Is someone you’re at odds with really disgusted by the name Jeong Jaeui?”

As Jeong Taeui spoke quietly with a hint of displeasure, Raman laughed aloud. Even when he laughed loudly, his gaze, always coldly composed, was somehow unsettling.

“You’re not as quick to grasp the situation as Jeong Jaeui. He understood everything from the moment I first mentioned making weapons. …What’s important are the individuals who can be drawn to our side by Jeong Jaeui’s name. To put it simply, a few arms dealers could easily be brought over.”

Raman chuckled pleasantly, leaning slightly towards Jeong Taeui. He brought his face closer and spoke in a lower, cheerful voice.

Jeong Taeui stared at him without blinking.

Indeed. What this man wanted was a weapon. A weapon bearing Jeong Jaeui’s name. For Jeong Jaeui to hand over a new design to him was akin to an unspoken agreement to hand over his name as well.

Raman scrutinized Jeong Taeui’s face, looking into every corner, as if searching for something. Then he straightened his posture and returned to his usual gentle smile. His tone, saying, ‘Jeong Jaeui is truly a rare and excellent talent, isn’t he?’ had also returned to normal.

…Hyung. I don’t like this guy.

Jeong Taeui thought firmly at that moment. If Jeong Jaeui had been beside him, he would have shouted that in Korean, right in front of this man, considering their trapped situation.

Raman took a step back. This time, he seemed truly about to leave.

“As you must have heard, Jeong Jaeui only needs to make one weapon. Then I will immediately release both you and Jeong Jaeui from this place. So, I hope you will persuade Jeong Jaeui.”

“I don’t want to force my brother to do something he doesn’t want to do.”

Raman raised an eyebrow. But he shrugged and said, “As you wish,” then continued.

“At any rate, you’ll have to stay here until then. Let me know if you experience any discomfort. …Ah, right. I would also appreciate it if you refrained from visiting the Baheb night market for a while.”

He said that calmly, with a polite smile, then turned and walked away.

Jeong Taeui stood rooted to the spot, watching him walk towards the western corridor and exit through the door at its end. Through the briefly opened door, he could glimpse short trees, possibly garden shrubs. Through the trees, a glimpse of a wall plastered with grey stucco.

“…Tch. This isn’t enough to even get a sense of where I am.”

After the opened door closed again, Jeong Taeui sighed and slumped to the ground.

No more water droplets fell from his soaked hair. It was still damp, and his hands felt wet when he touched his hair, but it wasn’t dripping onto the floor. It seemed to have dried a bit while he was talking to that man.

“I hate that guy. Raman—Abid—Al—Saud. I hate that guy. Damn it. Why don’t ghosts just take people like him away quickly?”

Jeong Taeui mumbled, articulating the name with force, syllable by syllable. Perhaps sensing the familiar name, the guard glanced back, but Jeong Taeui didn’t care. Let him tell on me if he wants. If he understands Korean, that is.

—Yesterday morning, a friend who visited this residence for a vacation went out and was apparently accosted by someone named Riegrow. He was looking for me, they said.

“…”

Jeong Taeui flinched, retracting the hand that had been resting on the floor. His fingernails scraped the stone floor.

He was looking for him. Riegrow. Raman. …Me.

Suddenly, his chest ached.

He could almost see the expression on his face. Jeong Taeui felt he knew what expression he would have worn when he caught someone.

He was looking for him.

That fact, which he had long suspected, somehow drummed hotly in his ears.

“Oh…”

Jeong Taeui raised a hand to his hot ear. But his hand, warmed by the sun-baked stone floor, offered little relief.

Jeong Taeui lay down. And as he slowly crawled towards the pond by his head, he submerged his head in it again.

He wanted to leave here. As soon as possible.

Jeong Taeui stayed submerged in the water for so long he almost fainted, and didn’t move until the guard, who had been watching him from a distance and found it odd, approached and tapped him.

How can I get out?

Jeong Taeui sat by the pond, staring blankly at the guard who had scanned him as if he were insane before returning to his post by the door.

But no solution came to mind.

What should I do? How can I get out?

It would be great if there was some way to secretly sneak out of here.

“It would be difficult.”

Jeong Jaeui answered without much thought.

“Oh… right? There isn’t anything? Like, maybe Islamic architecture has some kind of secret escape route in case of emergency…”

“While you might expect such things in a fortress or a building of a certain scale, it’s unlikely to exist in a simple villa like this, and even if it did, it wouldn’t connect to this annex.”

The owner of this place isn’t foolish enough to confine someone in an annex with an escape route, Jeong Jaeui added calmly. Jeong Taeui mumbled, “Right,” disappointedly, and resumed wiping his hair with a towel, which he had stopped doing. Jeong Jaeui, observing Jeong Taeui’s expression, asked quietly.

“Do you want to leave here?”

Jeong Taeui didn’t answer his soft question.