Passion Novel - Chapter 92

The headache wasn’t going to subside on its own. At this rate, it would only get worse, and he didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep easily. He wanted to go to his room and rest. But clearly, Jeong Taeui had something to confirm. Although he vaguely knew and didn’t want to confirm, he had to address it.

“Let’s go to my room. I stocked the fridge full of beer this afternoon.”

“…Shall we?”

He didn’t know how much was stocked, but he might as well empty it all out. Jeong Taeui gave Ilay a resentful look, then followed him towards the elevator, letting him lead the way this time. Even beer didn’t appeal to him much.

He thought about stopping by the infirmary for some headache medicine before going to his room later, then remembered the late hour, and clicked his tongue. If he went to the Adjutant’s room at this hour asking for medicine, he’d undoubtedly get an earful.

He could only hope the conversation wouldn’t make his headache worse. Jeong Taeui didn’t say a word until they got on the elevator and reached Ilay’s room on the first basement floor. Ilay glanced at Jeong Taeui but didn’t bother to speak. He just chuckled. It was natural that seeing that expression wouldn’t improve Jeong Taeui’s mood.

“…It’s like watching a sulking child.”

As Jeong Taeui grumbled unpleasantly next to Ilay, who was taking out his keys, Ilay subtly raised an eyebrow. Jeong Taeui realized after speaking that his words themselves were no different from a sulking child, but the words were already out.

“Not at all. A sulking child usually feels better after a night’s sleep, but you don’t seem like you will. Though you do tend to cheer up on your own.”

Jeong Taeui fell silent. This was why you shouldn’t get off on the wrong foot. It was bothersome to get angry, and if he just let things slide with a “what’s good is good” attitude, it became an expected behavior in other people’s perception of him.

He sighed inwardly. Because what he said wasn’t entirely wrong. Even if something made him incredibly twisted up and furious, how many days would it really last? When he was angry at someone, his own energy was drained even more severely, so he could never keep up with it, always just burying it with an “oh well.” But it wasn’t that he forgot what he was angry about, or what bothered him.

“It seems you did something to upset me…”

Jeong Taeui muttered to himself. The conclusion he had reached after being in Eoryeong all day pointed to almost one thing. It was a deeply displeasing conclusion.

Ilay didn’t answer this time. He simply opened the door and gestured for Jeong Taeui to enter.

Jeong Taeui stepped into the silent room, stood for a moment, then went to the chair in front of the desk and sat down. Normally, he would have perched on the bed, but now, he didn’t feel like doing even the smallest thing.

“…Uncle?” Jeong Taeui asked.

Ilay shrugged, tossing his jacket carelessly onto the bed. “If you mean Instructor Jeong Changin, he’s in Canberra.”

“That’s not what I mean. He didn’t answer his phone this morning, so is he answering now?”

Ilay chuckled. From that laugh and brief silence, Jeong Taeui realized that his uncle not answering the phone was no accident. And Ilay knew that Jeong Taeui had realized. He didn’t feel the need to answer and went to the refrigerator, taking out beer for both himself and Jeong Taeui.

“Alright then.”

Ilay said, lightly tossing a beer to Jeong Taeui. Jeong Taeui didn’t feel like drinking, but he fiddled with the beer in his hand for a moment before tearing open the tab. The moment he tore it, foam boiled over and splattered onto the floor. He clicked his tongue, set the can on the desk, and shook his hand dry.

Since he hadn’t really intended to drink it anyway, he didn’t pick up the beer.

Ilay, watching Jeong Taeui with amusement, took a sip of his own beer, then leaned against the wall and tilted his head.

“Shall I tell you the cause first, or the result?”

“Only about my uncle.” Jeong Taeui said curtly. He had thought and thought all day, but that was the most important thing.

Ilay watched Jeong Taeui for a moment, then laughed and suddenly asked, “You said you were Instructor Jeong Changin’s son, didn’t you? …Ah, genetically.”

Ilay added, as if he thought it might be misunderstood. Jeong Taeui frowned slightly. He quickly understood what he was talking about. It wasn’t exactly a secret. But it wasn’t a story someone outside the family would likely know either.

“…Uncle must have said so.”

What he said didn’t really mean anything. It didn’t matter to Jeong Taeui who had passed down his blood and flesh. His father was in heaven, and his uncle was his uncle.

“He never said it directly. I just happened to find out. …But you really don’t resemble him. Well, neither does Jeong Jaeui, but your personality is completely different from his.”

Ilay chuckled as if it were amusing. Jeong Taeui sighed, slowly tapping the armrest of the chair with his palm.

“You seem to know him very well. So, you and Uncle teamed up for this?”

Ilay laughed and waved his hand. “No, no,” he said, shaking his head.

“You’re making it sound unpleasant, ‘teamed up.’ Of course, it’s not entirely wrong. …It’s true that he and I know each other well. More accurately, he and my brother know each other well. We do several things together, so among the instructors, I suppose we could say we know each other best. But when it comes to this particular matter, I was merely his assistant. I just slightly helped him with what he wanted.”

Ilay showed a very small gesture with his fingers.

Assistant.

Jeong Taeui smiled bitterly.

“So, you knew beforehand that I would see that file and make such a mess of things?” Jeong Taeui spoke immediately, not wanting to hear any more. Ilay was silent for a moment, then shrugged indifferently.

“More than half the probability. But I also fully considered the possibility that it wouldn’t turn out as perfectly as I wanted.”

“If that had happened, were you planning to drag me in with you and trip up McKin?”

Ilay chuckled softly. “Taei, you’re already dragged in. Although this particular matter will be known by the guards and reported to other branches or headquarters, it’s a dirty secret that shouldn’t be widely known, so it won’t spread much and will be handled internally. But you’ll most likely be held responsible, in some way or another.”

Jeong Taeui silently watched Ilay, who said, “Don’t worry too much. I’ll make sure it doesn’t lead to your expulsion.” That didn’t matter. The original deadline he was given was almost up anyway.

Suddenly, he wondered if his uncle had set the deadline that way because of this. Jeong Taeui leaned his head weakly against the chair.

“…So, the result?”

His voice was tinged with fatigue. Ilay emptied his beer, tossed the can into the trash, and went to sit on the bed. Then he shook his head dismissively.

“Nothing special.”

“What?”

“Nothing special. This incident is just one of ‘various unpleasant events caused by Jangtil and those under Jangtil’s management.’ This one thing alone won’t cause significant damage. This is, in fact, superficially an ‘impossible accident’ but practically an ‘unluckily exposed incident.’ Just like anywhere else. Of course—McKin will have to give up on promotion. Depending on how you look at it, leaving UNHRDO might even be better for him.”

Jeong Taeui listened to him silently, and when he paused, he quietly said, “It’s not just McKin, is it?”

“Hmm…?”

“Uncle also helped with this. Whatever you call ‘practicality,’ Uncle helped McKin. Or rather, did McKin help Uncle?”

And I, like a fool, danced like a puppet. Jeong Taeui smiled bitterly.

Then, suddenly, Ilay burst into laughter. It was a cheerful laugh, as if he had heard something incredibly amusing.

“Ahaha, hahahaha, that’s right, McKin and Jeong Changin were definitely holding hands one way or another. You could gather as much evidence as you wanted. But you know, Taei,”

Ilay, still with a lingering smile on his face, suddenly lowered his voice.

“Instructor Jeong can’t quit UNHRDO. He’s an absolutely essential person.”

“…To Vice Director General Maori?”

He hadn’t intended to sneer, but it came out that way. Ilay shook his head.

“Wrong. He’s essential to UNHRDO.”

Hearing those words, seemingly casual yet tinged with a subtle light, Jeong Taeui let out a long breath.

He had felt like he was being led in circles for a while now.

Yes, this wasn’t it.

Whether his uncle was Maori’s man, Gentil’s man, or neither, Jeong Taeui didn’t care. How the internal situation unfolded was also none of Jeong Taeui’s business. What he wanted to know wasn’t how this situation would progress, or how the power dynamics would shift.

Jeong Taeui simply wanted to know that his uncle hadn’t considered him someone who could be roughly cut off if need be. That was all he needed. That alone would be enough. His headache was getting worse. His head throbbed, making him nauseous. Jeong Taeui clenched his fists.

Just then.

As if tearing through his headache, a mechanical hum began to fill the quiet space. The phone was ringing.

Ilay raised an eyebrow, glanced at his watch, and murmured, “Ah.” He chuckled, as if he knew who it was, then got up from the bed and approached the desk. He checked the caller ID on the phone screen next to Jeong Taeui and gestured to Jeong Taeui. Jeong Taeui looked at the screen. After the international dialing code, the numbers 61-2 followed. Canberra. At this hour, there was only one person who would call from Canberra. Suddenly, the color drained from Jeong Taeui’s lips. Biting his lip nervously, he picked up the phone.

“…”

He tried to say, “Hello,” or something, but the words wouldn’t come out. So he just held the receiver silently, and after a moment of similar silence, a voice came back from the other end.

‘Rick?’

“…It’s Taeui, Uncle.”

‘Ah. It’s Taeui. Why are you there? Did I dial the wrong number… no.’

The voice briefly moved away as if checking the number, then returned. It was nonchalant. His uncle was no different from usual. He called Jeong Taeui’s name as casually as ever. Perhaps his uncle didn’t know. No, perhaps it wasn’t his uncle’s intention from the start.

Jeong Taeui knew it couldn’t be, yet he desperately clung to the sudden thought.

“When are you coming? I’ve been stuck here all day, you know.”

Like a child whining, Jeong Taeui grumbled softly to his uncle.

His uncle chuckled over the phone.

‘Did Ilay tell you the story?’

His uncle said. His voice was as calm as it had been on the phone earlier. But the moment Jeong Taeui heard those words, the expression vanished from his face. He bit his lip nervously once more.

“…Uncle. Was it like this from the beginning?”

Jeong Taeui asked quietly. His uncle paused for a moment and then asked back, “What?” It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what Jeong Taeui was saying. It meant, “Regarding what aspect of this situation?”

Jeong Taeui fell silent. As he slowly inhaled and exhaled several times, no sound came from the other end of the receiver either. His uncle would know. There was no way he wouldn’t. Not only the current situation, but even that it would come to this, he must have already anticipated. And he knew how Jeong Taeui was feeling right now. The moment that thought reached him, a fiery lump surged up in his chest and choked his throat.

He was so angry he could barely breathe. The desperate hope he had felt just moments ago had all turned into resentment. It was such a small thing he had wished for from his uncle. Perhaps his uncle had also wished for something small from him. But what they each considered small was different.

“From the beginning.”

‘…’

“…Why didn’t you just say so from the beginning? That you wanted to create a difficult situation for McKin or Gentil, or whoever. You could have just said so from the start. Do you think I would have interfered with your work? No matter what means you used, do you think I would have hindered you? Why do you make a person feel like this—”

Words burst out like an explosion.

Anger surged. His heart ached terribly. The headache pulsed wildly in his head.