PASSION Chapter 3 Part 6

Chapter 3 Part 6

"It's not easy to lose your life to such basic mistakes."

As Tou started rolling up his sleeves at the openly grinning Tae-ui, the atmosphere suddenly chilled. Confused by the sudden silence, Tou turned his gaze, and Tae-ui also looked forward.

An edited clip was playing on screen. Though edited, it was footage with just the unnecessary parts before and after cut out, with the key parts fully preserved.

There was a man in it.

His face was so pale it lacked even blood color. Tall in stature, he seemed lost in thought as he stared blankly at his feet. The man, who seemed perhaps melancholy, had such a neat appearance it didn't suit appearing in footage like this. He would have fit better in a model's photo shoot.

"...Looks like he'd be cute if he smiled."

But his face is completely white, poor thing, Tae-ui was muttering when he suddenly met Tou's eyes as the latter glanced at him like he was seeing a ghost. That wasn't all. Colleagues sitting within earshot stared at Tae-ui with eyes so wide they might pop out, shocked—or perhaps glaring.

What's wrong with all of them, thinking this as he met their gazes directly, Tae-ui tilted his head and turned his attention back to the screen.

The man in the footage wasn't even carrying a weapon. His hands were empty. He only wore black gloves on those hands. He didn't seem to be hiding any other weapons either. His shirt and pants that fit his body perfectly showed a simple appearance without anything cumbersome attached.

Did they put in the wrong footage? But the background is definitely our branch.

While uncertainly rubbing his lips with his fingertips as he watched the screen with puzzlement, Tae-ui's eyes met the man's in the next moment. His heart felt like it dropped when those pitch-black eyes looked this way like glass.

The man, who had probably been looking at the recording camera mounted high on the wall, blinked once and smiled faintly. When a smile spread across his previously expressionless, melancholy eyes, Tae-ui realized this man might even be younger than himself. Though his appearance made it difficult to guess his age, when he smiled there remained very faint traces of youth.

The man approached the camera slightly tilting his head. And reached out his hand. The screen was filled with his black gloves.

However, before the screen was completely covered in black, that hand paused. Beyond the retreating hand, another man appeared behind him. He was quite large in build for an Asian.

Someone nearby whispered "Kiyomi" at seeing that newly appeared man. Searching his memory for where he had heard that name, Tae-ui soon realized this man was Kiyomi who had been injured in training recently and was now recuperating, the previous owner of the room he was currently using.

Kiyomi was holding a knife. A knife with the blade dulled so it couldn't cut people. Though his face was deathly pale, Kiyomi didn't back down and glared straight at the man. He seemed to be saying something but no sound was recorded in the footage.

The man approached Kiyomi calmly. As he approached without hesitation at a pace neither slow nor fast, tension flowed across Kiyomi's face.

Kiyomi seemed to make a sudden decision, flipping the knife half way to hold it blade down before stepping right up to the man. Then while swinging his other elbow to strike the man from the outside, he raised his knife-wielding hand. Whether the man was hit by the elbow or bent his waist or dodged to avoid it, an opening would appear.

The man slowed his walking pace. Then he reached out to touch the wall beside him, and using the rebound from his five fingertips on the wall, he bounced. Or more precisely, he himself bounced sideways.

Tae-ui stopped the finger that had been rubbing his lips. His gaze had caught something strange.

On the white wall where the man's fingertips had touched, black marks remained. As if black dye had leaked from the black gloves and stained the wall.

What could that be?

There wasn't even time to think about it.

Kiyomi's elbow struck the man's chest. It was a blow that could have broken ribs.

However, the man only slightly furrowed his brow. Even while doing so, the man's hand had grabbed Kiyomi's wrist as it plunged down with the dulled knife, and seeing that knife he smiled slightly.

The man twisted Kiyomi's wrist. In the silent footage, an unheard scream burst forth. The knife he had been holding fell heavily to the floor.

The man seemed to feel the pain in his struck chest only now as he lightly tapped his chest a couple times. However, his face as he tilted his head was as expressionless as a mannequin's.

Tae-ui unconsciously clenched his fists. A chill ran through a corner of his chest. Not a single breath could be heard in the surroundings.

The man who had grabbed Kiyomi's other arm wrapped his hand around Kiyomi's neck. Kiyomi's neck fit amply in the large hand wearing the black glove. The man caressed Kiyomi's neck briefly as if stroking it.

Again. Again, black marks trailed where the man's hand passed. Across Kiyomi's neck.

Tae-ui frowned and glared at those marks. It wasn't like they had been rolling in mud making the gloves soaked with black dirt, so what could this...

Then he suddenly realized.

It wasn't black. Those marks were such a deep red they appeared black. Perhaps even those gloves weren't black. That bright red that thoroughly soaked those gloves...

The color drained slightly from Tae-ui's face. The moment he realized what that bright red substance was, the man holding Kiyomi's neck set his thumb perpendicular right above the collarbone and instantly pressed down hard.

"That's imposs--!"

Those words unconsciously escaped his lips. However, he couldn't finish the sentence, both because the undeniable reality was unfolding before his eyes, and because his tongue had frozen as his spine turned cold.

The finger that had pierced through the middle of the neck slowly pulled back out. That finger was stained an even deeper color.

Kiyomi's eyes rolled back whitely as he convulsed briefly before going limp, and the man discarded him on the floor without attachment. After rubbing his chest area, the man frowned in displeasure but soon shook his head and turned around.

Again he stood facing the camera straight on. Tae-ui rubbed his chilled lips with his fingertips. His eyes met the man's in the screen. Still a white and calm face. That face looked nothing like one who had just pierced someone's neck, which made it all the more chilling.

The man who had been looking up at the camera for a moment suddenly smirked. Eventually just as before, black gloves approached to fill the screen, and that edited clip ended.

Footage of other men fighting followed, but burned into Tae-ui's retina was that man's final smile. His chest felt ice cold.

"What was that?"

In a voice too faint to even be called a mutter, Tae-ui spoke. Then a quiet answer came from beside him:

"That's that crazy bastard from the European branch. The madman that no one can handle even within the European branch, Rick."

Tou's voice answering was strained and his complexion had hardened.

"Not just the European branch. He's already established as someone untouchable at headquarters and all branches."

Carlo's heavy voice came from behind.

"Rigrow from the European branch. Also known as Mad Rick."

"Rigrow..."

"Because of that bastard, Kiyomi had tubes stuck in his throat fighting for his life. We should be thankful he survived just because it was dealt with quickly."

Tae-ui had been staring at the man's afterimage in the footage where other people now appeared, but he slightly furrowed his brow and turned to them.

"And the organization takes no measures even with something like that? Even with such clear video evidence?!"

At that, Carlo laughed wryly. A bitter and fierce laugh.

"Look, Tae-ui. That was 'training.' Moreover, it was a 'trainee without weapons' countering a 'trainee with weapons.' What you saw was the process of 'training,' okay?"

"Well... even so this bastard's deliberate intent to kill shows too obviously. He doesn't even try to hide it, so he must have been sent to solitary many times."

After muttering following Carlo, Tou seemed to remember something and pointed at the floor while adding:

"Ah, there's solitary confinement on basement level 7. Once you go in there, people come out looking like skin and bones. Well, that's natural after being locked up and tormented for anywhere from days to months."

"...In his case, wouldn't the instructor in charge end up more skin and bones during that time?"

While half-listening to them muttering seriously among themselves, Tae-ui rubbed his goosebump-covered arms. Before tearing someone apart, this would tear me apart. No, first I want to tear apart my own mouth that earlier said that man would look cute if he smiled.

So much for thinking I had decent judgment of people - complete failing grade.

Now he understood his colleagues' reactions. Tae-ui kept rubbing his arms. His chest still felt cold. His anxiously excited heart wouldn't calm down. Those pitch-black eyes across the screen. That snow-white face. Those pitch-black gloves. The black-dark red traces they left behind.

"..."

"Now, did everyone watch carefully? I'll play back some key points to note again, so watch closely."

The instructor spoke while lightly tapping the desk. Then he began replaying the footage they had just seen, this time stopping at points in between.

Tae-ui felt his mind settling slightly as he quietly took a deep breath. Then he carefully watched that footage again.

As a result, Tae-ui reached the conclusion that running away was the best option.

***