The man sprawled on the sofa in a relaxed pose that felt completely out of place given the sharp, wrinkle-free lines of his uniform. He paused mid-motion and shot a glare at Jeong Tae-eui when he heard his words.
"No? When is he coming back?"
"I don't know. He left four days ago and hasn't contacted me since. Did you come to Korea just to see my brother? Then you've come all this way for nothing."
"Is there any way to reach him?"
"If it were that easy to get in touch, it wouldn't be Jeong Jae-eui we're talking about. You know how he is."
Jeong Tae-eui responded nonchalantly as he took a seat on the stool across from the man.
His older brother, Jeong Jae-eui, usually led a relatively stable life. When he planned to be out for a day or two, he typically mentioned it in advance. However, there were times when he disappeared without warning and didn't return for days. This was one of those times. Sometimes he came back after three or four days; other times, there'd be no word for over two months. So this time, there was no telling when he'd return.
But Tae-eui had a feeling this time might stretch even longer. Four days ago, just before leaving, his brother had muttered something cryptic and walked out the door.
"It's boring to live life only being lucky. I guess I need to go through a little bad luck too."
Jeong Tae-eui drifted into thought, recalling the image of his brother smiling vaguely as he said those strange words. His brother had always been difficult to understand, and even now, reflecting on it, Tae-eui couldn't make sense of what he had meant.
But still...
"Hm, I don't know…"
He looked at his uncle, who sat there mumbling and tapping his forehead with his fingertips. Jeong Tae-eui murmured under his breath. Wanting to experience bad luck—what kind of person vanishes just in time, as if dodging misfortune before it even arrives? Like this. His older brother was someone who probably wouldn't see a true taste of misfortune for the rest of his life.
---
Jeong Tae-eui had an older brother who had been born on the same day, at the same time.
Though they were said to have come from the same root, his brother resembled him no more than a stranger might. Frighteningly intelligent, Jeong Jae-eui was a genius—so much so that words barely did him justice.
If his brother hadn't been so laid-back and indifferent toward ambition or external success, he might have accomplished things that would change the world. He had the potential to blow a continent off the map.
The United Nations Human Resources Development Organization once tried to recruit him, recognizing his unmatched talents, which spanned across the humanities, sciences, technology, and even the arts.
By contrast, Jeong Tae-eui was ordinary. Slightly above average, perhaps. No matter what he did, he never fell below the median. In some areas, he was even considered excellent.
But when Tae-eui was praised, it was due to effort. He worked for his accomplishments—unlike his brother, who outperformed everyone else with only a fraction of the effort.
Still, Tae-eui never envied his brother's intellect. He found it admirable, maybe even convenient, but he didn't desire that kind of genius.
What he truly envied was his brother's luck.
Jeong Jae-eui's fortune was unparalleled—so much so that even his extraordinary brain seemed average in comparison. His life felt as though it had been scripted under the most auspicious star imaginable.
He could survive catastrophic accidents without a scratch. He never even needed pocket money as a student. Not because he didn't like money—though he had few material desires—but because whenever he needed it, fate delivered.
If he found himself short on cash, he would borrow coins and buy a lottery ticket. That ticket would, without fail, win him exactly the amount he needed.
That's how his life was.
While Jeong Jae-eui lived in a reality where absolute luck was a given, Jeong Tae-eui slogged through life with a normal mix of good and bad. He'd be lying if he said he didn't sometimes envy his brother.
When he was younger, he envied him so much it gave him stomachaches. As he grew older, it faded into a more casual kind of envy—the kind you feel for the rare and wonderful things you know you'll never have.
That was the only thing Jeong Tae-eui ever truly envied.
He could be jealous at times, sure, but he still liked his brother.
This so-called "unlucky" person—with a brilliant mind, incredible talent, and unbelievable fortune—wasn't even all that unkind. He was odd, unpredictable, and hard to understand, but to Tae-eui, he was still just a decent older brother. Even after 20 years of living together, his brother remained somewhat of a mystery—but perhaps all geniuses were like that.
Still, maybe his brother didn't feel the same affection in return.
The night before he left—four days ago—had been quiet, like any other.
As usual, Jae-eui was hunched over a blueprint filled with incomprehensible diagrams, scribbling chemical formulas and molecular structures in the margins. Jeong Tae-eui glanced at the paper, but none of it made sense to him.
Thinking, "He's diving into some unknown world again," Tae-eui had curled up beside him on the sofa with a humanities book he could actually understand.
It had been a peaceful night.
Eventually, his brother grew tired and pushed the papers aside, lying down on the floor with a dazed expression, staring up at the ceiling.
Perhaps it was then that a sigh escaped his lips.
Suddenly, he sat next to Tae-eui on the sofa, grabbed his little finger, and said, out of the blue:
"You know, this place..."