Lucky Dog 1 translations 07 Ivan route 06

Part 3: Daivan

Chapter 7

Roommate

Ivan’s guys are already glued to the door to the room.  I can tell it’s them just by looking.  I think it’s probably the loose suits they’ve got on, like the one Ivan has…

Well, my suit’s no different.

Gian: Hey!  Thanks for the good work!

I stand between the two stiff guards in front of the door.  They turn their eyes to me.  There’s no hostility, but…

How to put this?  Their gazes unsettle me.  I think … even though Ivan’s men are CR: 5’s troops in name, they’ve probably only sworn allegiance to him.

…Well, whatever.

Gian: Aagh, I’m starving.

Ivan: Not my problem.

Mamma, he’s being mean.

When I glance around the room…

Gian: …Wow…  Wow, wow, and wow!

This room is definitely better than the others.  There’s a wide, open space stocked with a lounge suite, and the huge window faces out over the terrace.

There’s even a fireplace and a cabinet stocked with booze by the wall.  The bathroom’s huge, too, and the king bed’s as big as a car.  Even Marie Antoinette would be happy sleeping here.

…If only I had this room to myself, or at least shared it with a lady instead…

Ivan: Mm?  Ya say something?

Gian: Nut’in’ what-so-ever!

Ivan flops over onto the sofa the moment he enters and drifts off to la-la land like he’s got nothing to worry about … or at least, that’s completely what I thought’d happen.

Instead, though, he’s a busy bee, pacing around the room, turning everything up and over, looking over them through and through, and examining the doorway.

After he’s confirmed the location of the door and beds, he taps his men, who’re still standing outside the room, and spews off some orders.

Ivan: …Got it?  Keep a tight watch on your ass, as usual.  Don’t go parking the car in the same spots.

Ivan’s subordinate A: Yes, Boss.

…Whoa, he’s got him calling him ‘boss.’

Ivan: Also, you.  Get some hot bulls.  Usual place.  Also, some hot … and make sure it’s cool…  Be quick.

…?  There’s plenty of English words I don’t recognized mixed in.  His guys take it all in and nod.

After they run off with their orders, Ivan curses fuckity fuck under his breath before shutting the door, like something’s personally offended him.

And then … he finally heads for the bed, finally reassured by something or another.

Gian: Bedtime already?

Ivan: ‘course not, stupid.  This one’s mine, so don’t you go crawling into it.

Gian: No shit.

Gian: Hey, so, what’re we doing tomorrow?

Ivan: Mmhuh?  Mm…  You’ll find out once you come along.  If you still don’t know after that, your brain’s useless.

Gian: Harsh one, aren’t you?  …Is it something that annoying?

Ivan: You’ll find out once you come along.

There’s no use getting annoyed at him right now.

The phone in the room rings.  Ivan doesn’t get up from his bed.  Instead he signals for me to take the call.  …Damn, stupid arrogant…

Gian: Hellooo, this is the underground kingdom speaking.

Bernardo: Would you perhaps happen to have hats for sale?  …Can you leave the room at the moment?

Gian: Yeah.  They just finished some kind of clandestine meeting, too.

Bernardo: I want to give you something.  Give Ivan some random excuse and come over.

I hang up the phone and say,

Gian: …Mmm,  I’ll be heading over to Bernardo’s for a bit.

Ivan: What?!  You can’t just decide that on your own!

He suddenly throws aggressive words and glares my way.  …Even I can’t help but get pissed off at this.

Gian: What?  I can’t even go to the little boy’s room without my dear roommate’s permission?  Hm?

Ivan: …Wha—?!  …Like I care!  Shit!  Just go!

Gian: Thank.  You.

I leave the room and head to Bernardo’s room.

Gian: Whoaa, nice setup you’ve got here…!

After I enter the guarded door and step into the room … I’m met with the sight of the rubber and copper wired Lethe flowing by.  The origin of the river … is the throne of the king of the underworld, Bernardo.

Countless holes punched mercilessly into the wall overflow with phone lines that branch out and connect to the herd of phones clustered on Bernardo’s desk.

All the phones are for Bernardo’s job.  They’re connected to the public phones in Daivan, to the stores’ phones, to the city police, to the government office buildings, and even to the Boss’s house.  It’s the electric web of the new century.

And, Bernardo’s currently taking his own tools and setting up more phones himself.  …Just counting phone sets, there’s definitely more than ten.  …He looks like he’s having fun.

Luchino’s also in the room.  He’s lounging on a sofa in the corner of the room and indulging in tobacco and the such.

Bernardo: I’m sorry everything’s everywhere.  There’s still some wiring to be done.

Gian: Then I’ll just get out of the way ASAP.  What was it you wanted to give me?

Bernardo: …Oh, before that…  There’s something about him…

Two question marks appear above my head.  Bernardo sighs and sets his tools aside.

Bernardo: It’s about Ivan…  I believe you know this already, but dealing with him can sometimes be pretty troublesome.

Gian: O-Oh, you mean that?

I was about to mention that we’re already at each other’s necks, but then…

Luchino: He’s different from us.  In the end, he’s just a randagio who doesn’t understand pride in one’s lineage or loyalty.

…Luchino quietly spits out those words from beyond the wall of smoke he exhales.

Gian: Oh … uh, that…  The whole deal with him not being Italian…

I don’t really think it’s that big a deal … but there are some guys who are down tight with the whole ‘Pureblood and two Italian parents to be a capo or else!’

Luchino: When he rose to capo, there was a bit of a fuss … but I didn’t really protest.  He makes money and, despite appearances, he’s sharp.

Gian: Is that so?

Luchino: But … I don’t think he’s someone you, as the prospective next boss, should learn from.  Well, moderation is good, I suppose.

Gian: Wh-what do you mean by that?

Luchino: He has no pride or honor.  No matter how much money he earns or how strong he is in a fight, without those … he’s no different from an ordinary hoodlum.

Luchino: We … are Cosa Nostra.  Don’t forget that.  He doesn’t identify with us, which is why it’s so problematic.

Bernardo: Well … with Gian around, he may come to identify himself more as a member of the family?

Bernardo gives a small bitter smile, like he’s apologizing to me … which means … that the reason he called me here was because Luchino wanted to say this.

…For some reason, I start feeling irritated.  For some reason, it feels like we’re gossiping behind his back when he’s not around.  Not a good feeling.

Luchino: Oh, that’s right.  Speaking of which, Gian, you’re unarmed, right?

Gian: Huh?  …Mm, yeah.

Luchino: You’ll be out on the streets with that idiot starting tomorrow.  Those GD bastards might come picking a fight with you.

Luchino pulls up an attaché case from near his feet and sets it on the table.  He opens the clasps.  Lined up inside are…

Gian: Pistols, huh…

…four pieces, each shining black and lined up inside the case.  …I’ve got no idea which is what, though.

Luchino: Take whichever one you like.  …It’s just in case.  Never know what’ll happen.

I look around unenthusiastically…  My eyes stop on a slim, strange-shaped pistol.  I pick up the piece and heft it.  …Phew, it’s pretty heavy.

Luchino: What, of all of these, that one?!  It’s like the leftovers in that series.

Gian: Eh, but it’s kinda cool!  …Should I choose something else instead?

With a sour face, Luchino starts telling me how to use the semi-automatic.  The lever that’s used for loading the bullets is kinda unique.  It works like a sliding door, which is kinda cool.

…Well, I’ll probably never use it.  I stick the pistol into my belt and readjust my shirt and pants.  Now, you can’t even tell I’m packing at first glance.

Gian: Thanks, Luchino.

Luchino: Just be careful.  …I still haven’t paid you back yet.  At the very least, you have to make it as an independent capo.

…‘Paid back?’  For what?  …Ooh, he’s talking about the jailbreak.

Gian: Well, I’ll be heading back to the room now.

Luchino: Heh.  Yeah.  Work hard!

Bernardo: Have a good night.

I blow a big balloon with the gum I’m chewing and waggle it around in place of a goodbye wave before leaving the room.

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