Passion Novel - Volume 6 - Chapter 139

Only then did he finally realize he had been dreaming. The dream he had right before waking was incredibly vivid.

“Ah…” Jeong Taeui sighed, or stretched, it was hard to tell which, as he sat up. He swept his dishevelled hair back, his eyes still half-closed from sleep, and reached out to grope beside him. His hand found the glass water bottle on the bedside table.

He lifted the bottle, put his mouth directly to its spout, and drank. In a corner of his blurry mind, he thought, ‘If Rita catches me doing this, I’ll get an earful.’ Then, as his mind slowly cleared, he reassured himself, ‘But Rita’s not here.’

He slowly swallowed the water, taking three or four sips, and felt a little more awake.

And only then did Jeong Taeui remember that the voice he had heard in his dream just now wasn’t just a dream.

Shall we leave, Taei?

Those exact words, without a single syllable off, Jeong Jaeui had said to Jeong Taeui.

“……”

In the end, they didn’t reach a single conclusion. Without explicitly concluding anything, they met the complete darkness there. They continued to talk about something until the stars above seemed to crackle and spill down.

It seemed to be completely irrelevant, trivial conversations. Just like before, when it was just the two of them. It was a calm time, somewhat nostalgic.

Jeong Taeui scratched his head. He placed the glass water bottle back on the bedside table and remained sitting blankly for a while. Then, feeling movements outside, he got out of bed.

The time was slightly earlier than usual. The hazy air of dawn had not yet fully receded. But it wasn’t so early that the refreshing air characteristic of morning wasn’t already seeping into the dawn air.

Jeong Taeui, having left his bedroom, stood in the corridor where the dawn and morning air mingled, and gazed blankly at the central garden. In the middle of it, the pond’s water lay still, without a ripple. On its surface, yellow and red flowers floated like lotuses, one by one. They looked as if they had just been placed there.

The diligent staff who worked here always floated flowers on the pond, changed the flowers in the vases, and cleaned all areas except the bedrooms in the early morning before Jeong Taeui woke up.

Jeong Taeui himself wasn’t usually one to wake up late, unless there was a special reason, but here, everyone else was always awake before him. Though ‘everyone else’ only amounted to the Arab man on guard duty, the young man assigned to him, and a couple of women in white clothes who moved almost invisibly, tidying the house but sometimes seen passing through the corridor.

“Indeed, if you’re not diligent, it’s hard to work under a proper person,” Jeong Taeui thought as he passed by the vase in the corridor, which clearly held freshly cut flowers.

Perhaps because he had heard Jeong Jaeui’s voice even in his dream, his footsteps naturally led him towards his bedroom.

He didn’t particularly have anything to say, but it might be better to clarify yesterday’s topic.

“Jaeui hyung, I’m coming in.”

Jeong Taeui, having reached Jeong Jaeui’s bedroom, called out from in front of the shutter and opened the door. From a distance, his eyes met the Arab guard who stood tall at the end of the corridor, looking this way. “Good morning,” he mumbled in a voice too low to be heard by the guard, and gave a slight wave. The stoic Arab man showed no particular reaction today either, but he nodded slightly as if he understood his words.

Jeong Taeui chuckled and entered the bedroom. That stern-faced uncle wasn’t a bad person either. He couldn’t understand human speech—not that he was slow-witted, but he didn’t understand the language—and he was in a position to guard them, but he wasn’t as irritating as his master. Soon, after breakfast, if nothing unusual happened, that man would come again. And what he would say was obvious.

“To put it nicely, he’s persistent, to put it badly, he’s stubborn…”

Jeong Taeui, mumbling to himself as he entered the bedroom, took a couple of steps then stopped.

The bed was empty.

“Oh,” he muttered, tilting his head. And he turned his head to look out into the corridor. But the face he was looking for wasn’t there either.

Jeong Jaeui, who usually woke earlier than Jeong Taeui, would often sit by the pond in the corridor in the early morning, gazing at the brightening sky. But when Jeong Taeui came out of his bedroom, there was no one in the corridor, so he naturally assumed Jeong Jaeui would be in his room. But the bedroom was also empty.

“……”

Jeong Taeui tapped his cheek with his index finger, staring blankly at the empty bed. Then he tilted his head and turned to leave.

Today, the start of the day seemed a little different than usual. But there was nothing particularly surprising about it. He wasn’t necessarily bound by a fixed routine, and sometimes Jeong Jaeui would move in unexpected ways.

Anyway, wherever he went, it would still be within the detached building. If he wasn’t in the corridor or the bedroom, then the only other places were the courtyard, the study, or the bathroom. It wasn’t mealtime yet, so he wouldn’t have gone to the dining room.

Jeong Taeui turned his steps towards the study. On his way, he poked his head out through the small outer door to check the courtyard, but there was no one there either. So, he was either in the study or in the bathroom.

Jeong Taeui, arriving at the study with a leisurely pace as if enjoying a morning stroll, found Jeong Jaeui there.

“You were here.”

Seeing Jeong Jaeui sitting at the desk, Jeong Taeui smiled and approached him. Jeong Jaeui, who had been busy writing something, glanced at Jeong Taeui, said “Oh, you’re awake?” in a brief greeting, then returned his gaze to the desk.

His voice seemed somewhat subdued compared to usual. Not just his voice, but his face also looked weary.

Jeong Taeui tilted his head, checked his complexion, and then slightly frowned.

“Did you perhaps not sleep?”

“Hmm…”

Jeong Jaeui mumbled vaguely. Jeong Taeui tilted his head quizzically and approached him.

Jeong Jaeui often pulled all-nighters even before. He was the type to forget to eat or sleep when deeply focused on something. There had been many times when he had stayed up all night reading books or lost in thought. So, it wasn’t just once or twice that Jeong Taeui, waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, would stumble into Jeong Jaeui’s still-lit room with a disheveled face and mumble, “Still not sleeping?”

However, he hadn’t done that since being in this detached building.

In this small paradise, isolated from the world, Jeong Jaeui had lived a peaceful and regular life. It wouldn’t be terribly surprising for him to pull an all-nighter now, but still…

“Why did you stay up all night again? Was there something you were so engrossed in?”

Jeong Taeui went behind Jeong Jaeui and lightly patted his shoulder. At the same time, he glanced over his shoulder at the desk. Any papers Jeong Jaeui would be absorbed in all night would be completely incomprehensible to Jeong Taeui, but Jeong Taeui liked seeing the traces of Jeong Jaeui’s profound thoughts densely written on the paper.

However, seeing the dozens of papers spread out on Jeong Jaeui’s desk, Jeong Taeui fell silent.

The incomprehensible drawings, abstract and unrealistic, like those drawn by a three or four-year-old, gradually became more discernible as the papers accumulated. And the unknown equations and symbols written on each sheet became increasingly detailed as the papers increased, filling the margins with more complex parts becoming even more complex, and simpler parts becoming even simpler.

“This…”

Jeong Taeui knew almost nothing about Jeong Jaeui’s work, but he quickly understood what the drawings and writings were. He had seen something similar a few times before. Although at the time, he hadn’t thought it would actually be a marketable item.

“Did you stay up all night because of this yesterday?”

Jeong Taeui picked up the most precisely drawn paper among the drawings and murmured.

The drawing itself was crude and childish, but the content was clearly discernible. The drawing, which clearly depicted only the basic internal framework, was an anti-tank gun.

However, Jeong Taeui soon tilted his head slightly.

No, perhaps it wasn’t an anti-tank gun. The drawing was different from the anti-tank guns he knew.

First, the barrel was excessively thin and short. He didn’t know what kind of power the weapon was expected to have, but considering the length needed to adequately support a shell, this weapon’s power wouldn’t be very significant.

It might be lightweight or portable, but this would violate the most basic requirements of a weapon. No, but that wasn’t the problem right now. Rather.

“Hmm… it’ll be done with a little more work. Just wait a moment. I want to finish it before breakfast.”

Jeong Taeui looked at Jeong Jaeui, who was murmuring indifferently, his face devoid of expression. No matter what, this was absurd. To devise a weapon and even draw up its basic design in just one night, that was impossible.

“Jaeui hyung… you really were a genius…”

However, Jeong Taeui, who had been momentarily stunned, quickly regained his composure. While “immunity” might sound strange, if he thought about it, Jeong Jaeui had accomplished many unbelievable things before. Even so, to this extent, it seemed excessive.

Jeong Jaeui glanced at Jeong Taeui’s dumbfounded voice. And, as if embarrassed, he frowned slightly awkwardly before dropping his gaze back to the desk. And he continued to move his hand as he spoke.

“No. I had already thought about it before. I’m just writing down what I thought and making a few adjustments, so it’s not that big of a deal.”

“……”

Jeong Taeui rustled the paper in his hand, then put it down. And he went to the chair by the window and sat down, staring blankly at Jeong Jaeui.

—Shall we leave, Taei?

He remembered Jeong Jaeui’s quiet words from the central garden yesterday. He must have intended to do this from the moment he uttered those words. As long as Jeong Taeui didn’t say ‘I don’t want to leave,’ he had decided to leave by any means—even if it meant retracting his words and bending his will.

Jeong Taeui quietly pressed down on his right hand, which longed to grab his shoulder. It was a hand that wanted to grab his shoulder and tell him to stop, that it was okay.

—If you want to leave but think you’re staying here because of me, then I, too, want to leave here for you, even if it’s not what I desire.

Those words were definitely Jeong Jaeui’s true feelings.

In that case, Jeong Taeui stopping him would actually go against his wishes. He seemed to understand his feelings. Jeong Taeui would have done the same if he were in his position.

Jeong Taeui quietly bowed his head. And he looked down at his right hand, pressed by his left. Slowly, he released his left hand. His right hand hesitated for a moment, but then relaxed.

“…The design is unusual and cool… Can it actually shoot?”

Jeong Taeui said to Jeong Jaeui’s back. He spoke softly to him, who was probably still aware of Jeong Taeui’s presence. Jeong Jaeui seemed to pause his hand for a moment. But soon he started moving his hand again, and without answering Jeong Taeui’s question, he wrote something more for about a dozen seconds, then finally put down his pen. And he turned to look at Jeong Taeui.

He stared blankly at Jeong Taeui for a moment, then at some point, he smiled faintly, as if drained of strength. From his face, Jeong Taeui realized that he had been concerned about Jeong Taeui’s well-being, and nothing else.

Jeong Jaeui picked up the paper he had just been writing on, scanned it, and said.

“It can shoot. It’ll be easier to shoot than most equivalent cannons. In terms of power, there’s nothing particularly special; it’s average, but since it’s a portable, rapid-fire type, it should be quite useful.”

“Huh?”

Jeong Taeui frowned. He stood up and strode towards him. And he looked over his shoulder at the drawing.

“This is a rapid-fire anti-tank gun?! Where would you mount the shells? With a barrel this length, mounting would be unsuitable.”

Jeong Taeui glared again at Jeong Jaeui’s crude drawing. Did he draw it too shabbily for me to recognize? He tilted his head and examined it again, but sure enough, the structure couldn’t be rapid-fire.

“Hmm. So, this cannon needs special shells. I already have the design formula for those, so we can use that. It’s a standard-sized warhead of this size, and it can fire three times in rapid succession, or up to five times if the power is slightly reduced. …My stomach hurts… Should I go eat breakfast? It’s almost done anyway.”

Jeong Jaeui said nonchalantly, indicating the size of the shell with his hand, then rubbed his stomach as he stood up. And he picked up the almost complete blueprint and pen, and headed for the dining room.

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at his retreating back, then shook his head and followed him.

It seemed he had underestimated Jeong Jaeui. He knew his brother was a prodigy of the era, but he hadn’t fully grasped it because Jeong Jaeui often laid out papers that Jeong Taeui couldn’t understand.

To complete something like that overnight—even if he had thought about it before—and with such a calm demeanor, it seemed he didn’t even consider it a big deal.

“Indeed… he’s impressive enough to make organizations desperately search for him. I’d want to kidnap and exploit him too.”

Jeong Taeui sighed and mumbled.

Jeong Jaeui, still with his calm expression, remained lost in thought even while eating in the dining room, occasionally looking at a paper, deleting or adding notes. By the time he finished his meal, he closed the pen cap with the words, “It’s done.”

Jeong Taeui chuckled with a jaded expression. He knew Jeong Jaeui was the kind of person who could pull all-nighters when focused, but he still gazed intently at Jeong Jaeui, whose face showed signs of fatigue. Then, he lowered his head, took his last spoonful, and finished his own meal.

After finishing his meal and leaving the dining room, Jeong Jaeui, unlike other times he pulled an all-nighter when he would go straight to bed, walked to the study again. Jeong Taeui followed him, asking quizzically.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? Aren’t you tired?”

“Hmm. A little. But this is fine. When Raman comes, I’ll give him this and we’ll leave right away. I need to pack my things for that. Since I didn’t bring anything in the first place, I hardly have anything of my own to take out.”

Jeong Taeui slightly slowed his steps. He frowned and asked him.

“Leave right away? This morning?”

Then Jeong Jaeui looked at Jeong Taeui as if he found it strange.

“You have someone you want to meet, don’t you? Didn’t you want to leave as soon as possible? If we’re going to leave anyway, it’s better to leave quickly.”

Jeong Jaeui, speaking calmly, immediately began tidying up as soon as he entered the study.

He gathered the scattered papers, sorting out the necessary ones and bundling the rest into the trash. Besides that, he arranged other messy items back to their original places, and even dusted off the cushion of the chair he had sat on, straightening the fabric.

Jeong Taeui watched his impeccable tidying, leaving no trace of his presence, and helped with simple tasks like putting books back on shelves. He hadn’t forgotten, but it had been a long time since he had experienced it up close, so he was a little surprised. But it wasn’t surprising.

Jeong Jaeui was always calm and quiet, allowing himself to flow with time and space. However, he acted without hesitation in matters he chose or decided. Unlike rushing impatiently, he disliked wasting time against his will.

He hadn’t known he was so proactive, but his tendency to finish decided matters quickly was something he had always done.

Jeong Taeui sighed, placing the last book, which had been in a different spot, back on the shelf. Jeong Jaeui was also putting the last pen on the bookshelf into a drawer and closing it.

Clatter, the drawer closed, and the tidying was complete. For a moment, silence hung in the study.

There was no trace of Jeong Jaeui left here. Perhaps because he had nothing of his own in the first place. Or, perhaps, because this was not his place. Without a single item he cherished as his own, this study was merely ‘borrowed.’ The books he had requested from Raman, the records, and other items—they were not his. He didn’t think of them as his.

Jeong Taeui briefly looked around the empty study, then asked.

“In your room… in the bedroom, is there nothing to pack?”

Jeong Jaeui shook his head. He said, ‘There’s nothing of mine there either.’

Indeed, come to think of it, Jeong Jaeui had been kidnapped and dragged here in the first place. There would be nothing left that could be considered his property.

“Right, same for me, so I guess we just need to leave with what we have,” Jeong Taeui mumbled, nodding his head. Come to think of it, his passport and money were all left in his backpack when he came here, they would probably still be there when he returned.

Suddenly, he felt a sense of lightness.

It was a place he had stayed for a while. A space he liked, and perhaps even loved. How much time like this, in such a secluded and peaceful place, would come again in the future? In a place so close to paradise.

He felt a little regretful thinking about leaving. But he wasn’t sad. This was never their place to begin with.

“Alright, then… …Wait. But what about our passports?”

Jeong Taeui suddenly voiced the question that had popped into his mind.

Jeong Jaeui didn’t answer. He just opened his eyes wide, as if just remembering, and stared silently at Jeong Taeui.

“…Now that you mention it, we don’t have them.”

“Where did you put them?”

“I had it until Varanasi, but I forgot about it after losing consciousness there and waking up here.”

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at Jeong Jaeui, who mumbled, “I didn’t think about it at all because there was no reason to leave.”

Then, he let out a “Hmm,” sighed, and shrugged.

“Raman will take care of that much. He also promised ample compensation commensurate with the weapon if you just give it to him.”

Jeong Taeui’s “ample compensation commensurate” that the man spoke of so confidently would certainly be substantial. Arranging a passport wouldn’t be a problem at all. As Jeong Taeui tried to recall his belongings to see if he had forgotten anything, Jeong Jaeui murmured nonchalantly to himself.

“Ample compensation commensurate… I don’t really need it. If he gives me another oil field, it’ll just be a hassle.”

“Hmm,” Jeong Taeui nodded at Jeong Jaeui’s words, then stopped short. He frowned slightly and tilted his head. He felt like he had just heard something strange.

“Give you what?”

“An oil field. I received one before. …Ah. Come to think of it, I have the deed for that. …Taei, do you perhaps need an oil field? I’ll give it to you.”

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at Jeong Jaeui, who spoke casually, as if lost in thought for a moment before finding it bothersome. He didn’t even blink.

An oil field. An oil field, that must be it. That black gold gushing forth in the Middle East.

“…You received that, Hyung? From whom?”

“From Raman. He gave it to me, saying it wasn’t a huge one, but quite useful.”

Jeong Taeui was speechless. And he stared intently at Jeong Jaeui. Jeong Jaeui said, “Tell me if you need it later. I don’t need it,” but the words didn’t register.

This is why I develop prejudices against those born with a silver spoon…