Lucky Dog 1 translations 03 Ivan Route 14 alt
Part 1: Prison
Ivan Visit 3 alternate
I invite Ivan over into my room with a few beckoning gestures.
On his way, he gets some guys he knows by face to clear out the area. Ain’t he the meticulous one.
|Gian: Hey, are you on good terms with our other captains?|
Ivan: Huh? What the hell brought this on? You turn parole or something?
|Gian: Nono, just getting a feel for the PR. You know, as the future boss and all.|
I continue on, ignoring Ivan’s unhappy expression.
|Gian: I figured, ‘Hey, you’re dead last, so maybe you’re feeling a bit lonely.’|
Ivan turns redder and redder as I watch on. It doesn’t take a genius to see he’s snapped.
|Ivan: Don’t you… …You’re the one who’s dead last!|
|Gian: For now. …Well, if you count backwards, we’re first, so as the two top captains, we should get along!|
I pat Ivan on the shoulder a few times while projecting a friendly atmosphere.
…I change the topic before Ivan can explode, though. Can’t overdo it here.
|Gian: By the way, I’ve been wondering … why’d you get pinched in the first place? The words ‘assault and battery’ were in the charge somewhere. Don’t tell me you couldn’t even get out of that one?|
Bitter expression on, Ivan rests his hand on his hips.
|Ivan: I was patrolling with my guys at night when we ran into some crumb who couldn’t fucking read the situation… We got into a scuffle, and he got a little beat up.|
|Gian: And that became “assault and battery?” You could’ve just shut him up and be done with it.|
You’re not being very gangster-ish here, Ivan.
|Ivan: It was some dude who didn’t give two shits about threats or the shit-crazy amount of reparation money we’d offered. Couldn’t keep it out of court.|
|Gian: Wow … that’s really stupid…|
|Ivan: Shaddap. It was a set up. He set it up so that I had to hit him back.|
He clicks his tongue and sticks a hand into his pants pocket.
Ivan: More importantly, I got what you wanted before. Here.
|Gian: Whatcha got?|
I stick out my hand and take what he’s holding. I peek into the small cloth bag … and in it are countless wires and a sheet of metal shaped into tweezers. Substitutes for a lockpick set.
Ivan: Took me quite a bit of effort, you know. I couldn’t get it all at once ‘cause that’d just attract attention, so I had to carefully put it together piece by piece.
I put on a troubled expression. I scrutinize each one separately.
They’re pretty accurate. But, the problem is, I already have something equivalent at hand.
Ivan: What’s wrong? Be happier! Is there something wrong with ’em?
|Gian: …No, just that I already have some.|
I take out similar items from my pocket and show them to him. Ivan looks taken aback by shock and horror.
|Gian: Um, I wasn’t really counting on you, so I thought I’d at least pick these up myself…|
|Ivan: …Is that how it is…|
He mutters this disappointedly before quietly slipping out of the cell with gloomily scrunched eyebrows.
Aw shit, I cracked his glass heart.