Passion (BL Novel)

Jeong Tae-yi stared intensely at the white hand, even though he knew hands couldn’t reveal someone’s age. However, he didn’t want to delve into anything personal, so he shifted the conversation.

"With the way you’re talking, you must look very similar to that older brother of yours who deals in weapons."
"Hmm, I haven’t really been told we look alike, but still, my older brother and I aren’t twins, you know. There’s quite a bit of age difference between us."
Jeong Tae-yi, who was about to give a sharp retort about how age doesn’t matter when it comes to resemblance between siblings, waved his hand dismissively.
At that moment, the man hesitated. He turned slightly, as if someone was coming from behind him or there was a sound. Jeong Tae-yi wondered if the man was perhaps living a peaceful life with his family, helping out with the family business.
"Suddenly, but I’ll have to leave now. Let’s meet again later."
"Eh? Oh, okay. But, what about the matter with my uncle?"
"I’ll call back later. Bye bye."
The white hand waved lightly. With that, the call ended, and the monitor dimmed again.

Jeong Tae-yi sighed and pressed the lamp again. Instantly, the surroundings fell quiet.
Tap, tap. Just like the white hand had done earlier, Jeong Tae-yi sat quietly, tapping the desk in silence, as if he were a statue. His mind was getting muddled. But, thinking about it, it wasn’t like there was any need to be overly complicated at this point.
"Ugh... I don’t know. I’ll just live in a world where wars are happening. Not like I’m going to join any peace movement."
Right. Even though I’ve stopped, there are plenty of professional soldiers in the world. Those guys have to make a living too, Jeong Tae-yi muttered as he threw himself onto the bed.
With a thud, he accidentally kicked the corner of the bed with his foot. It hurt like hell.

As expected, everything was a complete mess.
Before regular duties even began the next day, Jeong Tae-yi was called in by Instructor Golding of the second martial arts training session. When the roll call was being taken after the regular session ended, one of the guys who had been gone for more than 30 minutes to change was missing, so it was no surprise. In fact, Golding had called him separately right after the evening roll call, but Jeong Tae-yi had just rolled over and sprawled out on his uncle's bed, stubbornly refusing to move.
And so, the price for that stubbornness came the next morning before regular duties began, where Jeong Tae-yi was called in and dragged around for a good while. By the time he entered the morning lecture, exhausted and stumbling, his mind and body were both worn out.
The combat simulation was scheduled to occupy the entire morning.
The lecture room, with a large screen installed, wasn’t very spacious—about the size of a seminar room. The team members were already sitting quietly, maintaining a solemn silence.

When Jeong Tae-yi entered, the instructor glared at him fiercely, but perhaps because he had already been briefed by Golding, he didn’t say anything.
Jeong Tae-yi slid into an empty seat, and next to him, Tow grinned.
"So, did you enjoy your date with Golding? You were called in first thing in the morning, seems like you're getting pretty close."
"Yeah, it was hot... so hot I almost burned out."
Jeong Tae-yi gave Tow a grumpy glare and shrugged as he noticed the instructor glaring at them from the front. He lowered his head, and Tow pretended to look straight ahead, ignoring him.

"As you all know, our joint training with the European branch is just around the corner. So today, as part of personal analysis, we’ll go over the records from the last training session. Here’s the footage from last year’s joint training."
As Jeong Tae-yi poked Tow in the side, the instructor pressed a button on the controller. The dark screen lit up, and a video began to play. The quality wasn’t great, but it was enough for them to make out the footage.
‘This guy... That hurts!’
Tow, sitting next to him, muttered under his breath with a scowl, but Jeong Tae-yi ignored him and kept his focus on the screen.
‘Quiet and watch. It’s the joint training records.’
Jeong Tae-yi said coolly, and Tow, who seemed to want to retaliate, reached his hand out but was stopped when Carlo, sitting behind them, lightly kicked Tow's chair. There was a soft clink, and the instructor’s cold glare shot toward them. The screen froze with a beep.

"Do you want to watch it separately during your free time after the regular duties?"
The instructor’s icy voice cut through the room, and Tow immediately sat up straight, replying solemnly.
"No, I don’t want to do that at all."
"I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet."
It was best to keep your head down in situations like this. Jeong Tae-yi had learned this lesson just this morning. Of course, Tow, who had been around longer, knew this well.
Instructor, assistant instructors, and then team members—no one could afford to underestimate the role of an instructor. Even in the UNHRDO, instructors were respected figures, and in other organizations, they were usually promoted to high-ranking positions.

The instructor, his hair graying, gave them a sharp look before taking the controller back into his hand.
"If you want to keep your life, you can’t neglect your studies. Watch carefully."
As the instructor’s words ended, the video resumed.
The footage from the joint training with the European branch last year began to play. It wasn’t the entire footage, but rather segments that had been edited to show the relevant parts. The scenes were broken up, making the footage seem like it had been carefully cut.
At ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) the beginning of the video, the lecture room was silent, but as the video progressed, people started murmuring quietly. They were watching the footage intently, occasionally exchanging brief words with their teammates. It was more like casual discussions than serious debate.

Jeong Tae-yi, who had never experienced joint training before, listened in on the murmurs around him as he focused on the screen.
"So, with less than ten days left, do you think we can pull this off after seeing this?"
Tow leaned over and whispered quietly. Jeong Tae-yi, resting his chin on his clasped hands, didn’t take his eyes off the screen as he responded.
"It feels like a well-structured fight. The goal is to team up with allies and beat down the opponent with everything we’ve got. But... I’ll still need to watch my back. I’m not sure about this."

In the video, there were some familiar faces among the men fighting. Some of the team members who were sitting in the lecture room appeared in the footage, but their expressions were unfamiliar. They looked like they were truly standing at the crossroads of life and death—if they lost, they would die.
No lethal weapons were used. The guns were paintball guns or air guns. The knives had their edges dulled, so they couldn’t kill. It was all just training in a formal sense.
But no one here was naive enough to think that such things couldn’t still be deadly.

"Ha, looks like Tow got caught doing something foolish."
Jeong Tae-yi chuckled and pointed at the screen. Tow, sitting next to him, scowled as he saw himself in the video. He had tried to land a clean blow on his opponent, but he had stepped on someone who was already down, losing his balance. As a result, his punch didn’t have any real force, and of course, his opponent countered.
Tow muttered, cursing under his breath, "Why did they have to show that?" But Jeong Tae-yi simply stared at the screen, silent.
"Why do they only show the failures? It’s embarrassing to see all our team members making mistakes."

"Well, it’s hard to shorten your lifespan with a basic mistake like that."
Tow, clearly annoyed, rolled up his sleeves, looking ready to take action, but the room suddenly went cold. A sudden silence settled over the group. Tow, confused, turned to look around, while Jeong Tae-yi also looked ahead.
A new edited video was now playing. Even though it was edited, the main parts of the footage remained intact.
In the video, there was a man.
His face was deathly pale, lacking any color. He was tall, seemingly lost in thought as he gazed down at his feet. The man’s appearance didn’t seem to fit the scene at all. He looked like he belonged in a fashion magazine shoot, rather than in such a video.

"...He looks like someone who’d be cute if he smiled."
But his face was completely drained of color, and Jeong Tae-yi muttered sympathetically. He glanced at Tow, whose expression was one of horror, as if he had just seen a ghost. Tow’s gaze met his, and so did the shocked stares of the other teammates who were sitting nearby, clearly astonished—maybe even glaring at him.
Jeong Tae-yi, unfazed by the collective stares, met their eyes and turned back to the screen.
The man in the video didn’t have any weapons. He was empty-handed, with only black gloves on his hands. His outfit was simple, fitting him perfectly without any unnecessary accessories.

"Did they put the wrong video on? No, but the background is definitely from our branch."
With his chin resting on his hand, Jeong Tae-yi rubbed his lips with his fingertips, staring at the screen in confusion. In the next moment, his eyes met those of the man on the screen. When those dark eyes, like glass, turned to look at him, he felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach.
The man, who had probably been looking at the camera mounted high on the wall, blinked once and then gave a faint smile. As the smile spread across his previously emotionless and dull eyes, Jeong Tae-yi realized that this man might actually be younger than him. His age was difficult to guess, but the faint trace of youth remained in his smile.

The man tilted his head slightly and moved closer to the camera. He reached out his hand. The screen was soon filled with the image of his black gloves.
But just before the screen was completely covered by the black light, the man paused. Through the hand retreating back, another man appeared behind him. This man was taller than usual for an East Asian.
Someone nearby whispered, "Kiyomi," upon seeing the new man. Jeong Tae-yi tried to recall where he had heard that name before, and it soon dawned on him that this was the same man who had been injured in the last training session and had been hospitalized for recovery—his room's previous occupant.

Kiyomi was holding a knife. It was a blade with its edge dulled so it couldn’t kill but still looked menacing. Kiyomi, despite his pale, terrified face, didn’t retreat and glared directly at the man. He seemed to be saying something, but no sound was recorded in the video.
The man approached Kiyomi calmly, walking neither too fast nor too slow, but without hesitation. As he moved forward, Kiyomi’s face tightened with tension.
Seemingly having made a split-second decision, Kiyomi twisted the knife around, positioning the dull edge downward, then closed the gap, swinging his elbow from the outside in an attempt to strike. At the same time, he raised his knife hand, ready to strike.

The man slowed his pace. Then, placing his hand against the wall beside him, he pushed off with his fingers, propelling himself sideways. No, it was more accurate to say that he himself was the one who flung himself sideways.
Jeong Tae-yi stopped rubbing his lips, as he noticed something strange.
The white wall the man had touched now bore a black mark where his fingertips had made contact. It looked as though something had leaked from the gloves, staining the wall.
What is that?

Before Jeong Tae-yi could contemplate further, Kiyomi’s elbow struck the man’s chest. It was a blow that would have easily cracked ribs. However, the man only slightly furrowed his brows. Despite that, his hand reached up and grabbed Kiyomi’s wrist, then glanced at the dull knife Kiyomi was holding and smiled faintly.
The man twisted Kiyomi’s wrist. A muffled scream erupted from Kiyomi’s mouth, though it couldn’t be heard in the video. The dull knife fell heavily to the floor.
The man, after being struck in the chest, lightly tapped his chest a few times, as if checking for the pain. But his face, with its tilted head, remained expressionless, like a mannequin.

Jeong Tae-yi involuntarily clenched his fist. A cold sensation began to spread in his chest. There wasn’t a sound in the surrounding area. Everything was eerily silent.
The man holding Kiyomi’s other arm placed his large hand around Kiyomi’s neck. Kiyomi’s neck easily fit inside the man’s hand, covered by a black glove. The man gently caressed Kiyomi’s neck for a moment.
Again, there it was. Another black mark where the man’s hand had passed. This time, it trailed up Kiyomi’s neck.

Jeong Tae-yi frowned, staring intently at the marks. It didn’t seem like mud had soaked into the gloves, but what exactly was that?
Then, it suddenly clicked.
It wasn’t black—it was a deep, blood-red color, so dark it looked black. The gloves themselves may not even be black, Jeong Tae-yi thought. The bright red hue, soaked into the gloves...

A chill ran down Jeong Tae-yi’s spine. At the moment he realized the true nature of that color, the man on the screen quickly twisted his thumb at the base of Kiyomi’s neck, right above the collarbone, then forcefully pressed down.
“No way...”
Without meaning to, the words slipped from Jeong Tae-yi’s lips. But he couldn’t finish his sentence. The horrifying reality unfolding before his eyes froze his tongue in place, and the cold sweat creeping down his back made him unable to finish his words.

The man’s fingers slowly withdrew from Kiyomi’s neck. His fingers were now stained an even deeper shade of red.
Kiyomi, his eyes dimming, convulsed briefly before slumping forward, lifeless. The man discarded Kiyomi’s body without a second glance, then rubbed his chest once more, his expression sour. He shook his head slightly before turning away.
Once again, he faced the camera. Jeong Tae-yi was staring at his lips, which had turned pale. The man’s face remained cold and calm, still giving no indication that he had just pierced someone’s neck. The smile that had briefly appeared on his face seemed almost out of place, making it all the more chilling.

The man looked up at the camera and gave a soft chuckle. His gloved hand moved slowly and covered the screen once more, cutting off the view. The footage ended.
Another video began immediately after, showing other men struggling and fighting, but the last image of the man’s faint smile remained imprinted in Jeong Tae-yi’s mind. His chest remained frozen with coldness.
"What was that?"

It was more of a whisper than anything else, barely audible, but Jeong Tae-yi muttered under his breath. Then, a soft voice responded beside him.
"That’s that crazy guy from the European branch. He’s notorious even there. No one can deal with him, that man, Rick."
Tow’s face had turned pale, his voice laced with disgust.

"It’s not just the European branch. He’s already infamous at HQ and all the branches as someone you can’t touch."
A heavy voice came from behind them.
"Rick from the European branch. They also call him Madman Rick."

"Rick..."
"That guy nearly killed Kiyomi. He was lucky to survive after being treated quickly."
Jeong Tae-yi, still staring at the lingering shadow of the man in the footage, frowned slightly and looked back at the others.

"They’re just letting this happen without taking any action? Even with footage like this?"
Carlo chuckled bitterly.
"Hey, Tae-yi. What you saw is just ‘training.’ Besides, that’s the ‘counterattack of an unarmed trainee’ against ‘a trainee holding a weapon.’ What you saw was part of the training process, okay?"

"What... even so, it’s obvious that he intentionally killed him. He doesn’t even try to hide it. He must’ve been in and out of the punishment room multiple times already."
Tow, muttering as he remembered, pointed at the floor with his finger.
"Oh, the punishment room is on the 7th underground floor. Once you’re locked in there, you come out a complete wreck. I guess it makes sense if you’re trapped and tortured for days or months."

"With that guy, though, I wonder if the instructor ended up a wreck too while taking care of him."
Jeong Tae-yi, half-listening to their conversation, rubbed his chilled arms. As he thought about the situation, he couldn’t help but feel disgusted. Before thinking about tearing that guy apart, he wanted to tear apart the mouth that had just said the guy looked cute when he smiled.
He thought he had a pretty good eye for people, but this situation was definitely a failing grade.

Now, he understood the reactions of the others. Jeong Tae-yi kept rubbing his arms. His chest was still cold. His heart, still unsteady, hadn’t settled. The dark eyes, the white face, the black gloves. The traces of blood-soaked red leaking from those gloves.
"..."
"Alright, everyone, did you get it? I’ll go over some key points again, so pay attention."

The instructor lightly tapped the desk, and the footage started again, this time paused at intervals. Jeong Tae-yi felt his heart settle just slightly as he took a deep breath. He quietly watched the video once more.
And with that, Jeong Tae-yi came to the conclusion that the best strategy was always to run away first.
The library on the 5th underground floor was always quiet. Because of that, sometimes you could see people lying down between the bookshelves, hiding their faces with books as they slept.

As usual, Jeong Tae-yi went to a corner bookshelf and crouched down to read. There was a large six-person desk, but whenever he sat there reading, someone he knew would come in and bother him. So, he had gotten used to hiding in the corners to read in peace, and when he got tired, he could easily nap.
Jeong Tae-yi flipped open the book he had picked from the shelf and started scanning the pages quietly.
But the peaceful reading didn’t last long. He was interrupted by someone he knew, who had come to the corner to find a book.

"Oh."
At the short sound, Jeong Tae-yi glanced up. It was Wen Ho. Behind him, there was also Qing.
Wen Ho stepped up to him, grabbed the edge of the book Jeong Tae-yi was holding, and tilted it slightly.

"What are you reading? ...The Art of War? You’re always reading these strange books. What good is that going to do you in a real fight?"
Jeong Tae-yi answered bluntly, shaking the book.
"You don’t think there’s another book that neatly sums up the thirty-six strategies?"

Wen Ho waved his hand as if dismissing the idea, stepping back with a frown.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can keep reading, I guess. When the instructor discusses strategy, I’m sure he’ll be impressed."
Jeong Tae-yi briefly thought of his uncle, who was in charge of strategy, and then inwardly scoffed. His uncle wasn’t the type to favor the model students. If anything, he had a habit of showing interest in slightly eccentric people. Even he himself wasn’t quite ordinary.

"But why suddenly the thirty-six strategies?" Wen Ho continued. "What, planning to run away somewhere?"
"Hm, remember the training video from yesterday? After watching that, I realized the only way to save my life is to do exactly that. If I can’t win in a fight, I’ll have to run and survive for just one more day."
Jeong Tae-yi muttered calmly, and it seemed Wen Ho and Qing thought it was a joke, as they laughed.

"Well, you know, there are opponents for whom that won’t work. You can’t just run from anyone."
"Well, sure. But I think I’d survive even if thrown into the wilderness."
Qing nodded in agreement, and Wen Ho followed suit.

Jeong Tae-yi thought about how his image had dropped so drastically in just a few days, but he didn’t feel like denying it, so he just shrugged. Maybe his uncle’s intuition was about this kind of thing.
In a brief moment, he could make a decision. What was the best way
to act? What was the most efficient thing to do with the abilities he had? What to give up, what to gain? It was easy to figure out once he measured the situation and the people involved.

But when facing a crazy monster of a person, the best option was still to give up your pride and take the practical route. In other words, run away as soon as you meet them.
"But still... there’s nothing in the thirty-six strategies about how to run away the best way."
Jeong Tae-yi muttered while flipping through the book. Tow and Qing laughed again, probably thinking it was just a joke.

Watching their smug faces, Jeong Tae-yi considered slapping them lightly with the book he was holding, but just as he looked back and forth between their faces and the book, he was interrupted by the sudden vibration of his pager in his pocket.
He closed the book and pulled out the pager, squinting at the unfamiliar number. It was an internal line, but he didn’t recognize the number. He had gotten used to the instructors’ numbers by now.
"Number 07... where is that?"

Jeong Tae-yi asked seriously, staring at the pager. Tow peeked over at it, his curiosity piqued.
"07? Hmm, let me think... the seventh floor above ground? That would be the office."
"The office? Why would they call me there...?"

Jeong Tae-yi muttered with raised eyebrows, but then suddenly fell silent. He stared at Qing, blinking his eyes. Qing, noticing the intense gaze, shifted uncomfortably and backed away slightly.
"Why are you staring at me like that?"