77
Brother, I’m Sorry
When I first met Richard Schnieke, who is now my father, I was twelve years old, couldn’t speak English or Ro(tman) language, and was a twisted child soldier. I remember when I first met my father. He looked at me quietly, then smiled for a moment and spoke in my native language. “Hello, boy. I’m Richard.” That was our first meeting. It was ordinary, if anything. What was unique was the location. I had been captured and tortured to the point where I couldn’t open my eyes, and we met in a dim, dusty interrogation room. Father tried to smile at me, but my appearance must have been quite rough, as I saw a tear fall from his eye. He was wearing something like a black coat, befitting a priest, and later, when I became his son and asked him hesitantly in Ro language, he told me the name of that clothing was a cassock.
My father was still wearing his cassock and fascia (waist sash). After beating me for quite a while and preaching with all sorts of Bible verses, emphasizing that ‘one must be faithful to family’, he was now elegantly drinking tea. Naturally, we were all sitting at the table, or on the floor, or on the sofa, or leaning against the wall, drinking something. Some were drinking tea, some coffee, some carbonated drinks – it was a variety. I was drinking sparkling water while watching my father’s reactions.
“So, you’re getting engaged to a third-generation chaebol?”
At my father’s words, my siblings’ gazes pierced me. Jochen spoke for everyone:
“Isn’t it a scam?”
The youngest is always like this. He’s got guts and not a shred of patience. Everyone glared at Jochen for his question. Their looks clearly said, ‘How could you say that out loud?!’ Their thoughts were too transparent.
I laughed, dumbfounded.
“What kind of scam could the eldest son of Chairman Riegel possibly pull on me?”
“You work for some security company, so maybe he needs that kind of information or something.”
Officially, I’m an employee of a security company. I can’t reveal that I work for the Security Bureau. I chuckled at Jochen’s mumbling words.
“Wouldn’t it be faster to bribe the CEO?”
“It might not be that Riegel Group son! I searched the internet and couldn’t find a single proper photo of him!”
“You’ll see when the rest of the family comes tomorrow, right?”
Then, the guy leaning against the wall asked:
“They’re coming?”
It was Stefan, who had already become independent and was working as an accountant. Judging by his fierce eyes, he must have looked into it as much as he could.
“They will.”
Given that I refused to have them meet just our family, they will definitely attend the engagement party. Above all, their family seemed to get along incredibly well.
“If the family doesn’t attend… regardless of the reason, we need to consider the possibility that he’s a con artist, Armin,” Stefan said seriously.
Your brother is from the Security Bureau. He won’t fall for identity fraud…
Unable to say this, I just nodded. In this situation, what if Sebastian Riegel turned out to be fake? What if there was another real Sebastian Riegel? Then this Sebastian would truly be an unprecedented scoundrel. Someone who fooled the entire Security Bureau, including the director, and even pulled off a Canaris – he’d be instantly hired by the Security Bureau.
For a moment, a sweet fantasy of Sebastian becoming my subordinate floated through my mind. Ah, that would be nice… Of course, Sebastian is a good person, but if he became my subordinate, I could use my authority to shut him up whenever he acted cheeky! Wow, that would really be sweet.
But such a life would never come, so the fantasy quickly faded.
Then suddenly, I realized that my father hadn’t said anything about Sebastian’s identity. Wondering why, I looked at him.
“You’re wondering why I’m not worried?” Father asked. As always, his perceptiveness is uncanny.
“Of course, because that man must be Sebastian Riegel himself.”
All my siblings looked at Father with surprised eyes. Receiving looks that seemed to ask how he could believe that, Father shrugged.
“The sudden trip to volunteer in Irica must have been influenced by Riegel. Well, when they suddenly offer to remodel the orphanage and church and ask for promotional videos in return, how many people could move such large sums of money? Plus, a trip to Irica with all the children? With a huge security detail? The tail is wagging the dog, but at that scale, it must be Riegel himself.”
I laughed, and Father glanced at me.
“What I’m curious about is why Riegel suddenly moved me and the children all the way to Irica. …Did something happen, Armin?”
“What could have happened-”
“Your company does security, but it deals with quite important matters, doesn’t it?”
My eyes widened involuntarily at Father’s words. I was flustered by his tone, which seemed to know something. How did he know? No, what does he know? Seeing my confusion, Father smiled and approached me. Then he hugged me and patted my back.
“Armin, I’ve traveled through conflict zones for a long time. I can tell just by looking at those people. How could a father not know what his son does?”
My body stiffened. I don’t know what to say. The son that Father took in, betting his life as a clergyman, kills people. I’ve killed many. Why? Simply because I received orders. I wasn’t a son worthy of Father betting his life on. Because I…
At this moment, I realize. The reason I’ve avoided looking at Father for some time, the reason I kept putting off contacting Father even with the engagement approaching, was because of the guilt inside me. He was the father who gave me life, and I had an obligation to live a shining life as he wished, to prove that his choice was right. But I couldn’t do that. I chose a profession that kills people and fell in love with a man. As I remained silent, Father sighed deeply and tightened his arms around me.
“God does not judge. He only pities, and that is the heart of a parent. You need not worry about anything before me.”
I closed my eyes, and Father’s voice flowed in. Through my ears, to my heart.
“Just be happy. That is your only duty and my sole wish.”
People say there is no God. But sometimes I hear God’s words. Through my father. With a full heart, I murmured.
“Amen.”
Ah, of course, I’m not religious.
And more than half of my orphanage siblings are not religious. Father always laments, “How can this be!” but we’re not really interested in religion. And the strangest one among them is that bastard.
“Namu Amitabha, Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva.”
That bastard who was abandoned in front of the church, grew up in the church orphanage, and then converted to Buddhism.
People seem to think that if there are child-related facilities within a church, it infringes on the children’s freedom to choose their religion, and there might be such places, but Father always strongly objects to this. He says, “One of my sons is a Buddhist monk!” That one sentence settles everything. Of course, it’s not about drawing conclusions based on one rare case, but rather the priests hastily changing the subject with “Let’s talk about something else…” because Father looks so pitiful.
“Where have you been lately?”
The one who became a monk, Oliver, was the one I was closest to. His blue eyes sparkled.
“Urnan.”
“Ah.”
“The country where you were born, brother.”
Oliver and I were alone on the balcony, the wind was cold, and there was a bitter taste in my mouth. There was a cigarette left by someone, so I put it in my mouth. As I was looking for a lighter, Oliver lit it for me.
“Ah, I had quit.”
I started smoking again when I burned Layer’s yacht, and this was the second time. They say you don’t quit smoking, you just endure it, and it’s true. Usually, I refrain from smoking out of consideration for Sebastian, who’s a non-smoker, but without him around and all, I quickly give in.
Wait a minute, come to think of it.
“Do you smoke?” I asked, exhaling smoke. Oliver shook his head.
“No, but carrying a lighter around is quite useful.”
“For what, if you don’t smoke?”
“Ah, the temple where I stay uses firewood.”
I see, I thought as I exhaled the last puff and stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray. Then Oliver smiled.
“You’re not surprised.”
“What? About the firewood?”
“That too. But when I said I wanted to become a monk, you were the only one who wasn’t surprised, I think.”
Ah, everyone else was in an uproar then. Oliver was an excellent student, and the teachers had high hopes that he could go to Fates. After joining the company, I found out that all sorts of people were graduates of that university, but back then, I had never met anyone who graduated from Fates University.
“Well, everyone has something they want to do.”
“Did you do what you wanted to do, brother?”
“Maybe?”
It wouldn’t be wrong to say I did what I wanted to do, since I didn’t forcibly study something I didn’t want to, and I did what I was good at.
“You work so hard and spend most of the money you earn on us… Don’t you feel empty?”
“We’re family, aren’t we?”
Oliver laughed at my words.
“What family are we, brother? We’re just abandoned scraps living together. Are homeless people who live together a family?”
The tone was scathing, but what it contained was self-deprecation. I don’t understand what this guy, who’s nearly 190cm tall, muscular, handsome, good at studying, and who became a monk because he wanted to, living the life he wanted, is talking about. For a moment, I almost clenched my fist in anger. I thought responding to this nonsense with fists would be best, but that’s a childhood thing, and it’s awkward to hit this bastard who’s already grown up and independent.
I stood still for a moment and put another cigarette in my mouth. I could see the cigarette’s owner gesticulating at me from inside the window far away, so I flipped him off and got up from my seat to look down at Oliver.
“First, no matter what you think, I consider all of us, including you, family. It’s overstepping for you to say that I should think the same way as you, whether you consider us scraps or not. Second, speak for yourself about being just abandoned scraps. Everyone is working hard to live. Why? If we’re abandoned scraps because we don’t have parents, then wouldn’t everyone eventually become abandoned scraps? Because they don’t have parents? Oh, are they different because they weren’t abandoned? We all eventually abandon someone and are abandoned by someone as we live. Still, it’s manners to try to overcome being abandoned and pretend not to have abandoned others. It’s ugly to shout that you’re abandoning me now, like you’re doing. Third, who says homeless people don’t consider each other family? Do you think they were born homeless? They were all once shining members of society and are just going through hard times now. And some of them might consider each other family. At least, they might not abandon their brothers right in front of them like you are. Don’t you think?”
Speaking like this seems to be Sebastian’s style, which I must have picked up. Anyway, the taste in my mouth was so bitter that I didn’t even want to smoke anymore. I threw the half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray and was about to leave when Oliver called from behind me.
“Brother.”
“I thought we weren’t family.”
I replied coldly, not even wanting to turn around. Then Oliver said, crying,
“Brother, I’m sorry.”
Bang―
A gunshot rang out.
