Jung Tae-ui asked suspiciously. The sudden appearance of an unexpected figure made the whole situation feel very implausible.
Was this man really the person I came looking for? What had Kyle said about this Christina? Surely—
Just as Jung Tae-ui was about to recall, a sedan that had been parked just below the main mansion’s front steps left, and another car followed, the same one with the young men he had seen earlier near the iron gate outside.
They handed the car keys to the butler and got out in a group. They looked at Jung Tae-ui, the young man, and Richard standing facing each other with some confusion, but then approached threateningly.
“Forgot where the riding course is after coming back so long, huh?”
“If you don’t know, don’t block the way here and go play in the stables.”
Their hostility was no longer aimed at Jung Tae-ui. Instead, they looked up at the young man sitting upright on the horse and spoke with sneering contempt.
Beside Jung Tae-ui, who silently observed the tense atmosphere, Richard slightly frowned.
“Stop it.”
“But look, ever since that guy came back, the mood’s been messed up. Why’s someone who’s got nothing to do with us sneaking in here?”
One of the young men stepped forward—the one who had been driving. Probably their eldest.
The atmosphere here wasn’t good at all. Not good.
Jung Tae-ui watched from across the river like a bystander, hoping that the fire of conflict wouldn’t come his way. It didn’t seem like these tensions had just formed overnight.
Among the young men, one of the younger ones approached and lightly kicked a horse. His glance briefly passed over Jung Tae-ui.
“Now that I think about it, what was it again? Christina? Ha, well, the outside is half and half, so maybe you can call him Christina. Christina—”
Then.
The young man sitting coldly on the horse stared hard at him and spat out,
“You guys must have forgotten who I am after such a long absence.”
He ended his words casually, not even looking angry.
At the same time, a sharp sound cut through the tense air with chilling clarity.
Clack!! — a dry noise behind. Red drops of blood splattered on the ground.
It happened in an instant.
Without even a scream, the young man whose flesh was torn by the whip seemed stunned, clueless about what had just happened, just feeling his face.
Before he could regain his senses, two more dry strikes rang out. This time accompanied by screams.
The young men, unable to fight back, stared wide-eyed as flesh was torn from their faces, blood flowing down their necks soaking their shirts.
“Even after 10 or 20 years, there are things you shouldn’t forget, but it’s been less than 10 years since I left this house, and you’re already forgetting how to use your head. Yeah, call me by that name once more. Who did you say?”
The young man muttered calmly without anger. His slow tone almost bored.
Gasp… Jung Tae-ui quickly covered his mouth. That name must have been a taboo.
Kyle should have told me that earlier! I almost lost flesh to that whip!
Fortunately, at this moment, the young man seemed not to plan to punish Jung Tae-ui, thinking, Come to think of it, you did call me that earlier, didn’t you? He jumped lightly off the horse and landed on the ground. He made a familiar gesture of roughly tying the whip to the saddle.
Then, perhaps one of the young men tried to retaliate. “Perhaps,” because though he tried, the young man easily dodged, and his fist cut only through empty air.
“Not only your head’s useless… my goodness.”
He sighed in disbelief.
The young man, seemingly having lost all will to fight, put his hands in his pockets and kicked the young man’s knee without mercy.
A horrible sound echoed. Watching a human skeleton twist unnaturally right before his eyes, Jung Tae-ui silently shut his mouth. Still, the young man didn’t even twitch an eyebrow. Find the original chapter at NovelPing.
That’s right. Kyle said about this person, that he was Illay’s childhood friend and a comrade from the old T&R Mobile Unit days.
Suddenly, Jung Tae-ui realized. The last time he saw this young man was at the cathedral. At that time, this young man was on his way back from Kyle’s house, carrying the book.
His mind went blank. Life was like an obstacle course.
Thinking how truly someone who could knock people half-dead without a hint of excitement was a true friend, Jung Tae-ui was lost in thought until another harsh scream snapped him back.
Even if it was someone else’s family matter, he thought he should at least intervene. But why was no one coming out while this half-killing was happening right in front of the main mansion’s front door?
Embarrassed and approaching them, Jung Tae-ui stopped abruptly.
Richard had caught the young man, who was delivering blow after blow, from behind.
The young man flinched and stopped. His eyes, which had been nonchalant while beating the others, suddenly flashed fiercely.
“Let me go?”
He growled at Richard like a beast ready to bite his opponent’s throat.
Richard calmly released his grip, stepping back two or three steps with open hands as if to face a wild animal.
The young man glared at him ferociously, nervously rubbed the arm Richard had held as if trying to tear off the flesh, then cursed loudly.
“Before you stop me, manage the guys under you well, Richard. Otherwise, I’ll kill these idiots every time they do something stupid to me.”
“Remember that well.”
Richard quietly nodded in response. The young man glared harshly one last time before turning abruptly.
He strode toward the west wing without even looking back and shouted at Jung Tae-ui,
“You there. Follow me.”
Jung Tae-ui clicked his tongue looking at the bloodied bodies on the ground, then silently followed. On the way, he passed Richard and gave a slight nod in greeting.
Christoph Tarten.
Christina, Christoph—what the name was no longer important.
Jung Tae-ui had never imagined the mysterious dangerous figure closely connected to Illay would be a man like this young man.
He knew he was extraordinary, but not to look extraordinary just by appearance. Had he been a huge man raised by wolves deep in some mountain, it might have been easier to believe.
That face and appearance matched Illay—this felt like some kind of scam.
“…The main mansion has offices, reception rooms, and halls. The east wing is where the old men stay and where guest rooms are for visitors. Those in the west wing are my blood relatives below my generation, or their guests. You won’t need to go to the main or east wings, so just know the west wing layout. The first floor has— …are you listening?”
Without sighing, Christoph kept rattling off details while quietly turning to look at Jung Tae-ui, who stood frozen. Jung Tae-ui smacked his lips and muttered,
“I’m listening… but hey, do I really have to stand here? Can’t I come inside?”
“Were we close enough that you could come into my bedroom?”
“You’re standing right outside my wide-open bedroom door, watching me change. That’s close enough.”
Christoph paused his hand, which had been pulling a new shirt from the closet, and looked at Jung Tae-ui.
Blocking Jung Tae-ui at the bedroom threshold while telling him not to come in, Christoph kept explaining as he got dressed.
Buttoning the shirt over his skin, he said,
“I forgot to tell you first: you can watch and talk, but don’t touch.”
“What?”
“Don’t touch me. Or my things unless I say so.”
“...Are you obsessive-compulsive?” You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“Not at all. I’m not bothered by dirt or mess. I just hate contact with others.”
“You were lucky to be in the Mobile Unit. You must have had to deal with people.”
“I was never assigned to those tasks in the unit. …What else have you heard about me from Kyle?”
“Well… that you’re Illay’s friend?”
Jung Tae-ui frowned slightly. Christoph frowned as soon as those words left his mouth.
“You don’t think I’m stupid enough to be friends with such a madman, do you?”
“...”
It had been a long time since Jung Tae-ui wanted to defend Illay.
When he meets Illay again, he thought, he should tell him he met his friend Christoph. Though somehow, Illay would probably not care about words like friend and would ask how they met by chance.
“But still, do I really need such a detailed explanation of the house just to get the book and leave quickly?”
Jung Tae-ui asked as Christoph buttoned the last button of his shirt. Christoph gave him a strange look and pulled out pants from the wardrobe without even looking, neatly lined up among others.
“Then tell me. Until you get the book, do you plan to spend your time here without knowing the house layout, where you sleep, eat, or what you do?”
Christoph retorted.
No wonder Kyle said he wouldn’t be easy to deal with.
“When will you give it back?”
“When I’m sick of it.”
“...So, what’s on the first floor of the west wing?”
Jung Tae-ui sighed resignedly and asked again. Christoph’s eyes narrowed slightly. Only then did he look at the pants, remove a small speck from the hem, and put them on.
“First floor has a dining room, hall, and reception room. There’s also a hall in the basement with games like chess and billiards, but there are too many idiots there, so better not go. Sauna too. The second floor has a private study. Third and fourth floors are bedrooms and private rooms as you see.”
After putting on pants, he put on a tie, belt, knit vest, and finally a wristwatch.
Christoph noticed Jung Tae-ui’s admiring gaze and asked with a curious look,
“Why? Dressed like this, I look like some noble’s young master.”
Jung Tae-ui scratched the back of his neck and said, then realized his nonsense and clicked his tongue. He really was a noble’s young master, not just ‘like’ one.
Speaking of which, here comes another character likely to reinforce the stereotype of diamond spoons.
Christoph suddenly scanned Jung Tae-ui from head to toe. Jung Tae-ui, who had only put down his luggage in the room Christoph pointed to and stood here, was still dressed exactly as when he left Berlin.
“...Why? Do I have to change my clothes too?”
“No… I was just thinking about Rick’s warped aesthetic sense.”
At that ambiguous remark, Jung Tae-ui grumbled, “Yeah, that’s true…”
“And dinner is at seven.”
Christoph walked toward the bedroom door and said. The wall clock in front of Jung Tae-ui pointed exactly to seven.
Following him down the hallway, Jung Tae-ui sighed.
Somehow, he still felt like nothing was settled. Moving without properly understanding a situation always brought vague anxiety. The feeling of not belonging anywhere yet.
Though he had been thrown into unfamiliar places many times, this one felt particularly uneasy.