Lucky Dog 1 translations 06 Bernardo route 05
Part 2: Escape
We arrive at our destination, Queen Quarter, at noon.
We send the cars sitting in the middle of the road flying as we cruise into the center of town with enough force to send hapless, panicking pedestrians flying.
As we step out of the car, proud, tall and striped, the bystanders that happened to be nearby leave a wide berth around us.
|Gian: Hey there! Got any idea where there’s a convenience store ‘round here that also loans money? Also, a gas stand and a gun shop… Oh, and a clothes store, too, if you would, please?|
I give a jaunty wave to one the guys close by and question him. He jumps a little out of surprise.
I kick open the door to the convenience store before heading in with Giulio.
|Gian: Yo! Excuse me, but I heard that this store here belongs to a Grave Digger sympathizer?|
In the store stands a single man who looks to be the owner of this joint. The moment he sees us, he freezes up.
|Gian: Hey Giulio, give him the thing.|
Taking the human ear from his pocket, Giulio tosses it at the store owner. When he recognizes what’s at his feet, the man gives a pitiful little shriek.
|Gian: That’s your friend, there. Couldn’t bring anything from the other guy, though.|
A light bulb flash, and I add something else.
|Gian: We were only acting in self-defense. Man, were they stupid or what. Can’t believe they thought they could take on the CR:5…|
Giulio smiles as an incomprehensible whimper escapes the store owner’s mouth.
|Giulio: What they did left them no other possible end…|
|Giulio: Perhaps … they wished to be killed. How about you…?|
|Gian: If you are a traitor, then we’ll have no choice but to kill you. I don’t think I’ve seen you before, though…|
At the sight of Giulio advancing menacingly towards him, the owner turns tail, knocking things over in his desperate retreat as he scuttles away, deeper into the store. Fool. No chance in hell he’s getting away.
Giulio trailing like a reaper, the store owner bolting frantically. I leave the two to their business as I move further into the store and come face to face with a whopping ginormous safe.
|Gian: This’ll work for settlement. Thank you!|
Don’t know if he can hear me, but that’s not my problem.
I concentrate on turning the dial. I try several times, but it doesn’t take long at all to find the right combination.
|Gian: …And bingo! He should’ve paid for a better lock.|
I throw the safe open and grab a hold of several of the suitcases stacked inside. I pop one open. It’s lined with rolls of banknotes, just like I’d thought.
Wouldn’t expect less from the countryside. This place probably also serves as a bank, so it’s stock full of cash. …Hm, I wonder if that makes this a hidden nest egg for the GD?
Either way, if this store’s under the GD’s wing, then I’ve got no problem helping myself. No pangs of conscience here.
|Gian: Hey, Giulio? Don’t take too long.|
We don’t have the time to strip him bare and check to see if there’s a tattoo. Besides, I get the feeling he’s different from the two who attacked us. No evidence, just a gut feeling.
He smells more like your average citizen than the two we killed in the forest… …It’s like he doesn’t know true darkness, has never taken a stroll through the shadowy underground before.
|Giulio: Are you thinking perhaps it would be better to leave him alive?|
After he says this, I ponder a bit.
|Gian: Suit yourself. You can kill him if you want.|
Giulio freezes for a second. He looks conflicted.
Giulio: …I shall leave it at inflicting pain…
|Gian: Thanks a bunch. From me, that is.|
Giulio beams and nods.
|Gian: Well, I’ll leave that to you.|
The moment I return my gaze to the contents of the safe, the store owner’s shrieks pierce through the air.
Ivan: Hey, pops, I’ll take a full tank of gas. You can charge it on that convenience store over there.
Store worker: Y-You’re … the Mafia fugitives, the ones they were talking about on the radio…
|Bernardo: Aren’t you lucky? It’s not every day you see something as rare as this first-hand. A full tank of gasoline, please.|
Ivan: Sheesh, you’re slow. Would you rather have all that booze you chugged leak out of the holes we’re gonna put in your stomach instead?
Luchino: That shotgun there, if you will, and every box of ammunition you have.
Luchino: Linking the clothes store with the gun shop sure is convenient. You wouldn’t see something like this in the city. Guess it’s just a rural thing. …Makes gathering supplies much easier…
Luchino: But … must all the clothes stink of rusticity, though? What kind of horrid dyed rags are these? The world truly is ending if, of all people, I’m here buying pre-made clothing…
Luchino: Hm? What’s that, owner? Don’t point the gun at you? Sorry, but please just bear with it. More importantly, could you bag everything?
Luchino: I’ll pay, don’t worry. He should be coming any second now… Ah, good, there he is.
The gun shop and clothes store are standing next to each other. I look between the two, trying to decide which to go into. After I enter, though, I see that the two are connected inside anyways.
Keeping the gun trained on the store owner, Luchino’s carrying several bags filled with the stuff he’d just bought.
|Gian: Luchino, done shopping? Let’s go.|
Luchino: I’ll leave the pay to you, Gian.
Luchino hands several of his shopping bags over to Giulio, who’d appeared after me, before hefting the rest in his hands and leaving.
I throw the suitcase I’d brought with me onto the counter. I’d already taken out the cash, so when the case pops open the moment it hits the table, its insides overflow with banknotes.
|Gian: No change needed.|
A wink to the owner, and I’m out, chasing after Luchino.
Even without our war spoils, we can barely squeeze into the car.
|Luchino: One gun each. Be careful with them.|
We start strapping on our weapons on the spot.
|Gian: Holy! This shit’s got automatic!|
I point the muzzle up and blast off a few rounds.
|Ivan: Shit, that’s loud!|
|Gian: Hahaha! Here we go!!|
All signs of pedestrians disappear at the explosion of gunshots just now, despite it being noon.
The only human movement that catches my eye … is a weak-kneed sheriff shouldering his itty bitty revolver.
You can’t make it in time, stupid.
I point the gun at him, and he frantically hides in the shadow of a nearby building. It’s like he’s trying to face us off with a peashooter.
When I aim towards the ground and pull the trigger, the sheriff disappears. Hehe, this isn’t quite like chasing off cow thieves, now, is it?
|Bernardo: Don’t play around too much, Gian.|
|Gian: But this feels soooo awesome! I think I’m getting turned on!|
|Luchino: Are you an idiot? No, you are an idiot.|
|Gian: You don’t have to say it twice…|
|Ivan: Idiot! Twice isn’t enough for you! You’re an idiot times three!|
|Gian: Whaddya mean times three?!|
|Giulio: …Ah, he means multiplication…|
|Luchino: You don’t have to explain, Giulio. Come on, let’s go.|
Laughing, we rest our asses on the seat.
Nothing’ll come from being anxious. I wave at the people peering out of their windows. At the same time, Bernardo, who’s our driver again, switches gears.
And the Alfa Romeo gallantly sets out. Destination, Daivan.