Lucky Dog 1 translations 07 Ivan route 07



Part 3: Daivan

Chapter 7

Another Side to Ivan

Gian: Papaaaa, I’m home!
Ivan: What, back already?!  And here I thought I’d finally get a good night’s sleep alone.
Gian: Well, too bad.  Even Arabian princes don’t get that luxury all too often.
Ivan: …

…Ah, there he goes.  When he sees my snickering face, his mood takes a nosedive and he irritably says,

Ivan: Just shut up, dickhead!

I take a glance … and, there, Ivan has a towel laid out over the low table, and on it he’s got a pile of shining black, oxidized silver, and steel…

He’s doing maintenance on his gun.   …For some reason, this catches me by surprise.  I thought he’d get frustrated and tired of stuff like this.

Gian: ‘s that your gun?  An auto pistol?
Ivan: Shaddap.  Zip it.  You’re gonna screw me up.
Gian: This one’s mine.  Ain’t it somethin’?

Careful not to startle Ivan, I flip open my jacket and show him the piece stuck in my belt.

Ivan: …A Ruger?  Not bad, you’re one of the big boys now.  That’s not a bad gun, kinda like an expensive watch.  It’s a spirited thing, but once you get used to it, I hear it’s amazing.

…Too abstract.  No idea what you’re talking about.

Gian: What’s yours?
Ivan: Good shit, yeah?!

Ivan rebuilds the piece with a flashy snap before talking.

Ivan: It’s the new 45 the armies use.  It packs a huge punch!  One shot, and bang!  Even an elephant’s down in one.
Gian: Mrrgh.

There’s a knock at the door.  It’s a bit of a slapdash sound, but the fist’s definitely a large one and from a guy.

Gian: Mm?  Ain’t that one of your men?

Instead of getting the door after I say this, though … Ivan freezes.  Only his eyes turn towards the door.  Nothing else moves.

Gian: Hey…?

Just as I say this … this time, a guy’s voice comes from beyond the door.

Ivan’s Subordinate B: …Excuse me, Boss.  I’m back.  Sorry for being late.

…Ivan … still hasn’t moved a muscle, not his body, not his eyes, nor his mouth.

Then…

…there’s knocks.  Three times, knockknock, knock.  And then, finally, Ivan moves.  …I only notice now that Ivan’s finger’s finally left the trigger.

Ivan: …Come in.

Finally, the door opens and his subordinate comes in.  The man’s carrying numerous paper bags.

Ivan: Sigh, and here I thought I’d get to eat all this myself.

Ivan sends the guy away before briskly rubbing the hand that’d been holding his gun and putting the bags down.  …I smell oil and meat and onions and ketchup…

…and a pungent amount, too.

Ivan: Dig in.  It’s on me today.

Gian: …Don’t tell me, this is dinner?

Ivan: Does it look light outside, stupid?

…That’s not what I meant.  This is one of the best hotels in Daivan, right?  The top floor, right?  A suite, right?  We have the money, right?

Gian: No, I mean, why don’t you just call room service?
Ivan: Then why don’t you call some for yourself?

…What’s with him?

I bristle with irritation … but even so, I remind myself that I got myself into this mess, so I reach for one of the paper bags.

There’s a long bun inside, sliced in half.  Stuck in the middle’s a daringly thick sausage covered in ketchup and drowned in a mountain of onions.

When I take a huge bite, the mustard hidden under everything stings and causes tears to well.  …Mm, not bad.

There’s a bottle of beer each, and the two of us pull out the cork as we’re still chewing.  I wash the food in my mouth down before talking.

Gian: Hey, just wondering, but…
Ivan: Huh?  What.
Gian: …you wouldn’t happen to have taken my portion into account too, would you?

Ivan looks at me with a face like he’s found a pebble in his chow before turning unpleasantly away.

Ivan: Mm, I was already getting mine, so it’s nothing special!  Just finish eating, stupid!
Gian: …So?  Why no room service?

He scowls, one eye twitching, as he crunches more hot dog between his teeth.

Ivan: …I’ll just lay it out right now.  I don’t trust the guys in this organization either.
Gian: …You think the hotel’d drug your food?  No way.
Ivan: There’s nothing wrong with being careful.  ‘sides … the cooks in this fucking hotel are all wops and all they’re serving’s mush that’s gotten some higher up’s patronage.
Gian: What about it?
Ivan: …Think about it.  Who’d wanna eat that?

I remember the whole incident with the knocks just now.  …I see.  Ivan’s…

Is it his appearance?  Or maybe his first impression?  Whatever it is, I realize that the vibe I get from him is completely at odds with the fact that he’s actually really careful and cautious.

Gian: I get why you won’t use room service.  But, then, how do you know this shop hasn’t poisoned its food either?

Ivan makes a face at my words, like he’s drawn the best hand in a game of poker, as he answers.

Ivan: I sometimes make the guy who bought the food eat it right then and there.

Gian: I see.

Ivan: ‘sides, my men are different from the others.  They’ve got balls.

…At first glance, he just seems like an idiot who never thinks things through, but he’s … unexpectedly … hmm … careful?  Cowardly?

Gian: Guess you can’t judge a book by its cover.

I pick up another hot dog … no, wait, what is this?  …Some sort of huge fried thing?  I bring it to my mouth, and…

     

…Urgh, it’s fish.  And it’s sour and spiicccyyyyyy!!

Gian: Ngggh … but, you know, you don’t haveta go that far?
Ivan: Who knows?  The Boss’s on the lam and hasn’t shown himself, and there’s a swarm of rats infecting the family, too…
Ivan: …The other captains stink, too.

Ivan empties the beer in one go.

Ivan: The CR:5 and this family probably haven’t got very long.
Gian: Whoa, there…

…It’s because he says stuff like this…

Ivan: Well, this’s got nothing to do with me.  Unlike certain other people, I can do just dandy without the CR:5 billboard standing behind me.  In fact, might even earn more for it.
Gian: …Is that right?

Ivan: Well, even so…  I do owe Grandpa Cavalli and the Boss one.  I won’t get my spit on their floors…

Ivan: …yet, that is.

…You don’t have to keep talking like that.  I’ve got no plans of passing what he says on to Luchino and the others, but it feels like he says this expecting to be tattled on.

…This stupid idiot … is completely incorrigible…

Ivan: Well, that’s just how it is.  You get what it means to stick with me, now?  If you’re not careful, you’ll get kicked outta the bosom buddy gang.
Gian: I don’t remember signing up for anything like that.
Ivan: Now’s your chance to decide.  Stick with me and prepare to slog through filth and scum, or…
Ivan: … you can take a U-turn and high-tail it outta here.  Be a good boy and get your room service.  You can choose whichever you want.

…Jeez, he just keeps saying whatever the fuck he wants…



Gian: …I can’t back out after all this.  It’s already been decided in front of everyone, right?
Ivan: I see.  So that’s how it’s gonna be?  …Well, careful you don’t get a knife in the back.

…And again, he says whatever he wants, the bastard.  How to put it … I suppose he’s the kind of guy who makes enemies without any effort.

Ivan: Now, then!

Ivan scatters the empty paper bags and scraps and the bottles across the clean table and sinks down deep into the luxurious couch.

Ivan: Yaaaaawn!  Man, being a freeloader is so hard in some ways.
Gian: Just what I was thinking.
Ivan: Shut up, dipshit.  …Now, then.

Ivan cracks his neck and heads for the bed and, just like that, climbs into it.

Ivan: You hurry up and sleep, too.  If you get up late ‘cause you stayed up jerking off, you’re dead.
Gian: Who the fuck’d jerk off in a double with you, jack-off!  …At least take off your shoes before you jump into bed…
Ivan: Oh just shaddap.  Making the bed’s not your job, is it?!  Like I said, I…
Ivan: …don’t trust ’em.
Gian: …Thanks for the hard work.

Ivan wriggles under the covers.  …He’s not even gonna go take a bath?  …Well, I guess that means I don’t have to either.

That’s one good thing, at least.

I throw myself onto the sofa.  …Now that I think about it, the food, the door knocks, and the shoes to bed…

All of those are signs of Ivan’s foresight.

He has the guys he trusts randomly buy food around the city to avoid poisoning…

The knocks or the way the knocks are made are some sort of way to communicate enemy invasion or if something weird is going on.

…I wonder why he showed them to me…

I turn off the huge main lamp before saying,

Gian: Hey, Ivan?
Ivan: What d’you want?  Just shut it.
Gian: You’re not who you seem.
Ivan: Whuh?
Gian: How to put this…  You’re kinda cautious, and I didn’t expect you to be smart … so I’m a little shocked.
Ivan: …In other words, up until now, you thought I was a complete douchebag?!
Gian: …
Ivan: Don’t go quiet right there!  I’m gonna fucking kill you, shithead!

I’d just been given a glimpse of the world he’s been making his way through.  I’d thought he was just some hot-blooded gangbanger, but I was wrong.

I hear the sounds of someone sinking deeper into the mattress.

     

Ivan: …There’s…
Ivan: …There’s something I have to have … before I die…
Ivan: …There’s just that … one thing…
Ivan: …There’s…

<< Back to Chapter 7 – Roommate

Onto Chapter 8 – White Noise >>

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Li
    Mar 18, 2012 @ 13:18:34

    [In fact, might earn more for it.] <– 'In fact, I might earn more for it.'

    Like

    Reply

    • terracannon876
      Mar 24, 2012 @ 23:51:36

      I’m interpreting mine as slang. You’ll find I often omit words, with the subject being the most common victim, so yeah, it’s meant to be grammatically incorrect.

      Just as a forewarning, you’ll find this pretty common as the translation goes on. Ivan is not known for good grammar, and he doesn’t instill it in Gian, either.

      Like

      Reply

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