“Excuse me?”
Without realizing it, Jung Tae-ui suddenly uttered a strange voice.
Illey speaking Korean? That was news to him. He had never seen Illey studying Korean or even looking at anything related to Korea. Surely Illey wouldn’t have had some thoughtful—and very inefficient—idea to try speaking Korean just to accommodate Jung Tae-ui.
“No way.”
When Jung Tae-ui flatly denied it, his uncle shook his head with a smile growing darker and more suspicious by the moment.
“I had a call with Rick the other day. Just before hanging up, he suddenly asked me, as if remembering, ‘What does “Mang-Hal-Nom” mean?’ And his pronunciation was perfect.”
“Huh? Mang... what...?!”
Jung Tae-ui stared blankly at his uncle.
For a moment, the words made no sense; his mind emptied, then suddenly a heavy, sharp pain hit him. At the same time, a dreadful premonition swept over him like a storm.
Illey had no reason to be curious about Korean. No place to have encountered Korean either. Except Jung Tae-ui himself.
And rationally, as far as he could remember, Jung Tae-ui had never uttered any curse words in Korean, German, or English directly to Illey’s face. He simply didn’t have the guts for that.
Moreover, recently he’d only muttered Korean to himself or in situations close to it. Now, sometimes he even dreamed partly in English, occasionally catching himself talking aloud in English to no one.
In other words, the chance that Jung Tae-ui, in a near-losing-his-mind state, muttered curses in Korean aloud—and that Illey happened to be there to hear it—was extremely limited.
The kind of scenario flashing through Jung Tae-ui’s mind was—
“...So... what did you say...?”
Jung Tae-ui muttered with his face pale as death. His vision blurred, dizziness striking as if some sudden fatal illness had taken hold.
Despite seeing that ghostly pallor, his uncle smiled smoothly without concern for his nephew’s health and replied,
“I softened it by telling him it meant he wasn’t good enough yet and needed to try harder.”
His uncle added something about it being inappropriate to tell someone it was a curse word outright, but Jung Tae-ui didn’t hear the rest.
His vision blacked out. He really must be dying. It was the first time he felt relieved at that thought.
His uncle cheerfully turned and walked lightly toward the bedroom. Leaning weakly on the sofa, Jung Tae-ui felt an overwhelming murderous intent from the light footsteps, but all his strength and blood drained away, leaving him unable to move.
The thought briefly crossed his mind that Kyle, sitting with a similarly pale face right in front of him, must be making the same expression.
A radio was playing news somewhere.
Coming out of the shower, towel drying his hair, Jung Tae-ui clicked his tongue hearing reports of unrest between Lebanon and Israel.
The region was perpetually unstable, but such news had become increasingly frequent lately. Now, even minor disputes barely caught attention.
Some areas in that region had frequent troubles, others were oddly peaceful. Trouble breeds more trouble everywhere.
...Well, someone had thrown a stone into a calm country once. No one knew where that person was now or what they were doing.
“Surely, they’re not running wild over there...”
Jung Tae-ui muttered, glaring at the radio.
After a moment, he concluded it was unlikely and plopped onto the sofa. Drops fell from his still-damp hair.
It was strange, but hearing such news without trouble showed his German must be improving.
Now, maybe he could tell Kyle, Rita, and the others who used English for his sake that it wasn’t necessary anymore... But Rita was strict about grammar, so better to pretend ignorance for now.
Jung Tae-ui nodded to himself.
As the ten o’clock chime ended the news and a music program started, he set down the towel, closed his eyes, and listened quietly without wiping the water droplets rolling down his neck.
Today’s program seemed focused on choir pieces.
The blended voices of people were even more lovely than instruments.
Jung Tae-ui breathed comfortably and opened his eyes.
Then—a faint phone rang.
“...?”
He turned his head. The ringing came faintly, barely audible, from Illey’s room across the wall.
There was definitely a phone in that room. But it never rang, seeming more decoration than function. Most people contacting Illey used cellphones.
It was rare, but unfortunately, the phone’s owner had been absent for two months—and still no sign of return.
The ringing stopped. Before Jung Tae-ui could turn back, it rang again.
The sound was faint and small enough to ignore, but after a moment’s thought, Jung Tae-ui got up.
He was puzzled why someone was calling a long-absent person, and part of him was just whimsically curious.
He hesitated opening the door to the empty room but entered upon seeing the phone’s flashing lamp through the slightly ajar door.
No need to turn on the light, he thought, and stepped into the dark room.
He checked the unfamiliar number on the screen and picked up.
“Hello?”
‘Yeah, I knew you’d pick up.’
“...”
Jung Tae-ui stared intently at the face on the screen.
There was the owner of the room.
Behind Illey—probably leaning on a bed—hung a large oil painting on the wall.
“Hey... long time no see.”
‘Looks like you’re doing well. Your face is lively.’
“Thanks to you.”
Except for a few words, he answered, meaning “Thanks to your absence.” Illey caught the omission well and laughed.
“Why call this number? The room’s empty anyway.”
‘I thought you’d pick up. The phone rings, after all.’
“Then why didn’t you call me directly?”
‘This isn’t a video call, so I can’t see you.’
“...”
Jung Tae-ui looked carefully again at the face on the screen, wondering if it might not be the person he knew. But that faint smile was definitely familiar.
“What? Something like documents or items you need to check visually?”
‘Ah. Just wanted to see if you were alright. Thought maybe you’d gone somewhere else. …Were you showering? Your clothes are wet.’
“Where would I go?”
Jung Tae-ui muttered as he rubbed his neck and shoulders. Water was still dripping from his half-dried hair.
“What’s up?”
‘Sit down.’
Illey nodded toward a chair. Jung Tae-ui eyed him suspiciously but sat silently. After two months of no contact, what was this all about?
“There’s news about trouble in Lebanon. I wondered if you might be there, but it seems not.”
Illey muttered, eyeing some expensive-looking decorations behind him. Jung Tae-ui smiled faintly without replying.
“...Where are you?”
‘South of Berlin... hmm. Is it cold there?’
Jung Tae-ui frowned at the sudden question. Illey couldn’t have forgotten the weather here after two months away.
“It can’t be cold here at this time of year.”
‘Really? Your nipples were hard, so I thought maybe climate changed.’
“...”
Jung Tae-ui glared awkwardly at the screen. Maybe because he just got out of the shower and was feeling tense from the AC, it might have been a careless remark. But why did it sound so ominous coming from that mouth?
“The air conditioning must be too strong. Is it subtropical there?”
Jung Tae-ui rubbed his chest and muttered sullenly.
‘Subtropical, huh. Maybe you came for a solo vacation? Why rub yourself over your clothes? I’ve seen hard nipples plenty of times, so why the sudden shyness?’
“You say such things on the phone after a long time... sigh. Alright, alright, whatever.”
Grumbling, Jung Tae-ui tore off his T-shirt in frustration, no longer surprised.
“Now, what’s the matter? You called after all.”
The man who had disappeared for two months without a single word suddenly called, only to talk about nipples.
‘Well. Just wanted to check in after a long time.’
“Don’t lie.”
Lately, Jung Tae-ui had been hearing strange things. The term “childhood friend” from his uncle about Illey was peculiar, and now a call from Illey.
‘You’re so blunt. Too harsh... move your arm. It’s blocking my view of your nipples.’
“...Anyway, these days, all I hear are weird things. Maybe I’m the one who needs a tonic.”
‘Weird things? Who’s talking nonsense?’
“No, I heard you have a childhood friend.”
‘Ah... who said that?’
Illey’s voice slowed, almost imperceptibly.
Ah... so that’s why he suddenly called.
Whatever the reason, that was what Illey wanted to hear.
Jung Tae-ui kept silent for a moment. Then he realized Illey noticed he’d caught on. His eyes narrowed.
“What do you want to know?”
‘I wasn’t that curious, just calling to check in... but now I think I might be curious. Who says I have a childhood friend? Is it you? …Move your arm.’
He thought it’d be nice if Illey took off the rest too, but he sheepishly moved his arm.
“My uncle stopped by. We were talking about someone named Christina. Said she was your childhood friend and colleague.”
‘Ha... that guy came by? Must’ve had a good time meeting family after a while. Yeah, he said you’re doing well.’
“Oh, he’s fine. Soon there’s a joint training with the European branch. He said it’s easier without the lunatic.’
It was easier to speak freely about someone not there. But Illey didn’t even blink at that.
‘Haha, that’s something to celebrate. What about the others?’
Jung Tae-ui kept silent again and stared. Illey smiled faintly with narrowed eyes.
“...What are you curious about? Just ask clearly. Don’t ask about things that don’t fit.”
‘Well, what could it be?’
Illey spoke vaguely, tilting his head. The sound of bones cracking came through the phone.
‘By the way, Tae, how’s it been spending two months alone at home? Not bored? Aching? I feel unusually heavy today.’
At “unusually,” Jung Tae-ui saw something he shouldn’t have.