Lucky Dog 1 translations 08 Ivan route 07 best
Part 3: Daivan
Chapter 8 Best
|Gian: …Come on, don’t tell me you’re still mad?|
|Ivan: Shut up, stupid. Get a move on!|
After that, the two of us’d bought our dinner, hot dogs and apples, at a stand in front of the station before heading back for the hotel.
I’m stuck carrying all the bags, so of course I complain the entire walk.
Ivan’s men surround us as we verbally abuse each other the whole way. …Ah, right, we’re going in through the back.
As we step forward into the darkness…
Suddenly, a light flashes in our eyes – the headlights of a car parked askew across the road leading into the parking lot. A crimson red Fiat sedan.
…The fact that Ivan’s troops are bristling and standing on guard like a mob of wasps is a dead giveaway that the car isn’t one of ours.
The red Fiat slowly crawls forward before leisurely turning to the side, turning its entire quad coupé flank towards us.
Ivan: …Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.
|Gian: …Ah … h-hey?!|
Ivan rasps out the words in a low voice, like his voice’s been chafed by gravels. He takes a step towards the car, moving in front of me like he’s trying to block me. The back door to the red Fiat opens.
|Honus: Did I perhaps catch you by surprise, Mr. Fiore?|
The man who steps out is somewhere in his forties, primped up in a well-to-do suit. He’s got a nasty pot belly, but all that fat’s probably concealing some violent monster inside. He looks the type.
The light in his eyes doesn’t speak of a straight man. He’s gang.
|Ivan: Don’t you know you’re in the middle of CR:5 turf? Didn’t think you were the suicidal type, Honus.|
…?? Do you know him, Ivan…?
|Honus: I didn’t think … you’d be the type to shoot an unarmed man, am I right? I’ve been looking for you, Ivan. I just want to have a little talk.|
…He’s lying. The thought immediately pops into my head. If this were someone Ivan knows, then he could’ve spotted that blatant white car in the pleasure district from a mile away…
|Ivan: …Sorry, but I’m not gonna do business with you anymore. If you want that Mexican booze, go find it somewhere else.|
|Honus: There you go again, hahaha! You’re quite harsh! Don’t tell me … is it because I’m one of the GD?|
Someone from the GD, coming to meet Ivan…?! On top of that, to do business?!
|Honus: But, I’m not here to talk business today. Aah, yes.|
|Honus: If you’d like, we can take my car. There’s a good restaurant I know. Why don’t we talk over a meal … about that thing from the other day?|
Wh-what? What’s he talking about?
Ivan: Scram. That’s over and done with.
Ivan nods to his troops and starts moving again, completely dismissing the man from his mind. He leaves me behind for a moment…
…Shit, just what the hell’s going on…?!
|Honus: Hah! I’ll take my leave today, then. There’s still time, so think it over slowly. You’re not the kind of man to simply end here.|
He climbs into the red sedan.
|Honus: Don’t forget that your decision will be advantageous to both us and the CR:5. …We’ll meet again, Ivan.|
Ivan spits the curse out. …The word seems to fill the space between Ivan’s men standing guard around him with anxiety and confusion.
|Ivan: The fuck is this, the secret gathering of eavesdroppers?|
Bernardo: The three of us happened to be together when we received the information. …So he got away.
Giulio: …Shall I chase him down and finish him?
Luchino: Leave it. We’re talking about the GD here. They’re quicker than rabbits when it comes to running.
They … all three of them, every one of the CR:5 capos … ‘d seen him meeting with someone from the GD… I cast my eyes down, feeling like I’d just gulped down a rock.
|Bernardo: That man was one of the GD executives … right? If I remember correctly, his name’s O’Sullivan…|
|Ivan: …Heh, you know that much already? Yeah, that’s right. He’s one of the GD bigwigs. His name’s Honus, a stupid dumbass who keeps trying to sweet-talk me.|
|Luchino: And did you promise a date with the GD bastard?|
Ivan: Hah…! Although they seem to want one. Or, what, you wanna join in?
…C-Crap. The conversation’s just taken a turn for the worse and plummeted to ground zero…
|Gian: Wait just a second here! Why are you all lookin’ for a fight?! Ivan, what the hell was that just now?!|
I leave the bags with the crew and cut in between the three and Ivan… Ivan spits on the ground with a pteh before speaking.
|Ivan: I knew him from before I got tossed in the slammer. I was selling Mexican booze to some straight businesses, and … the shareholder for that deal was that asshole, Honus.|
|Ivan: They didn’t seem to know who I was at the time either. We pretended not to know each other. If it’d come out, it would’ve just kicked up a load of shit.|
With those words, Ivan glares at the other three captains like a rabid dog ready to snap. Nobody moves a muscle.
|Ivan: And then, I got pinched … and I got out. Then the bastard comes looking for me and tries to give me an offer. That’s all…!!|
|Gian: …What do you mean by ‘offer’…?|
|Ivan: …He’s giving me an invite. To their side. Come to GD, and be one of their executives. So he says.|
A murmur runs through the troops. Bernardo and the others don’t even twitch…
|Ivan: And that’s all we talked about! …So? What of it? What’re you gonna do ‘bout it?|
Ivan glares up at Luchino and at Bernardo, purposefully throwing his verbal challenge in their faces.
Bernardo: Calm down, Ivan. The fact that he came here to talk to you in the first place … means that you had turned down his offer, correct?
Luchino: If you hadn’t said ‘No’ … then you would’ve gotten in with him.
|Ivan: …Hah! I should’ve gotten in!! It’s not like I sell myself off for cheap after all!!|
|Gian: H-Hey, stop going on and on about this, you guys…!|
…I-In other words … what? Ivan was going around, carelessly doing business with the GD in the past…
…and then, some guy comes up and offers him a chance to transfer…? Hold it! So he was telling him to betray us?!
|Giulio: …Ivan. Why … did that man … talk to you in such a noticeable place?|
At the quiet yet admonishing voice, Ivan curls in on himself. Taunting laughter starts leaking from him.
Ivan: ‘cause he wants me, why else? Plus … not like some skulking thief, but out in the fucking open, too. He probably wanted to show the crew, and to all of ya, too.
Ivan: It’s like he’s saying, ‘Even if you used to be in some shit like the CR:5, we’ll take you in and you can be someone in the GD!’ They’re…
Ivan: …not like some Mafia scumbags I know who only endorse Italian fucking wops!!
|Luchino: …You bastard…!|
Ivan: Don’t you guys forget it! I’m just playing nice and going along with all your pureblood bullshit!
|Gian: I-Ivan…! Stop it, you idiot…!|
The stupid dipshit… He’s running his mouth at the worst time possible…!
Ivan: You recognize the crew I’ve got here, don’t you? All you do is spout shit about codes or honor, but, in the end, they’re all threats to keep us on the bottom in line!!
Ivan: Best part is, the Moustache Petes think they’re the shit! And we, ‘cause we’re not Italian, we’re always rock bottom!
…Out of all of the CR:5 capos, me included, Ivan’s the only one without pure Italian blood. The higher ups and the guys in the Board and the Administration are for the most part Italian.
If the Boss, if old man Alessandro hadn’t trusted Ivan, he wouldn’t have gotten the captain seat in the first place…
|Bernardo: …What are you trying to say?|
Ivan: Hah! I’m a big softie, so I’m gonna give y’all a fucking warning before anyone gets pulled in by that jackass Honus!
Ivan: That CR:5 you’re such fans of? While you’re all resting on your fucking laurels, out in the streets the crumbs spit in your face. You’re worth less than dirt! The only thing supportin’ you are the troops out there payin’ in sweat and blood!
Ivan: And wouldn’t you fucking know it, most of those soldiers aren’t Italian! …Just think over that reeeal slow. Who’s the one takin’ advantage of who here?!
Luchino: You fucking randagio…! Did you forget the debt you owe the Boss for taking a shine to you?
Snap! Something audibly breaks under the weight of all that bloodlust.
|Gian: Cut it out! All of you!! This isn’t the time or place to have a falling out!|
Luchino: I’m not doing anything. This randagio here…
|Gian: Gaah! You stupid idiot! That’s just what I’m talking about! Don’t call your friends ‘fucking strays!!’|
Ivan: …! You…
|Gian: …The troops are watching, so cool it down!|
|Giulio: …Signor Gian is correct. We should … first extinguish the sparks before they spread.|
Ivan looks at me with annoyed(?) eyes…
|Ivan: J-Just now, you said…|
|Gian: Huh? What?|
Ivan: I-It’s nothing! You fuckup!
Ivan’s words degrades into fucks and shits as he crushes an empty cig box in his fist… He looks around at all of us before nailing me with it.
|Gian: Th-The hell you doing, you asshole?!|
|Ivan: Shut up, stupid! …Aagh, fuck, I feel like shit! If I don’t go fuck some bitch right now, I’m gonna snap!|
Ivan curses and spits before snatching the keys from his driver’s hands and stomping over to the black Chevrolet parked in the lot.
|Gian: H-Hey! Hold it…!|
Th-That fucking stupid dipshit asswad idiot!! If he leaves right now, then he’s just as good as asked them to suspect him…!!
|Bernardo: Ivan, calm down. Right now, you should…|
Ivan: And I’m sayin’ I’m goin’ to cool myself down! If I don’t empty my balls, I’ll probably end up killin’ someone!
|Luchino: You’re going into the city alone. You understand what that means right now, right?|
Ivan: I’m not interested in Honus’s fucking ass. ‘though, I can’t speak for them!
This … idiot… Leaving those purposefully provocative words behind, Ivan opens the door to the Chevrolet.
What can I say to stop him…? Shit, the words aren’t coming… I know where Ivan’s coming from, the reasons behind his actions and taunts…
He turns back at my voice. I toss my box of smokes, still half-full, at his irritated face. Ivan catches it with a surprised expression.
|Gian: That’s for today’s food…! And … I … I won’t forget my wallet tomorrow…!|
For a second, he just stares at me. Then, with a smile on his hateful face, he shoots back,
|Ivan: …Heh. These are some fucking expensive smokes, shit.|
Ivan disappears into the black sedan. The Chevrolet wheels out of the parking lot with his crazy driving.
Luchino: …That stupid fool…
Bernardo: …This looks like it’s going to be troublesome.
…I can’t find any words to say to the others. …I wonder if they’re also suspicious of me…
…Shit!! Who gives a fuck about that!! That rotten fatass Honus sure tossed some nasty poison into our lake…!!
|Bernardo: Let’s head back in. Good job, everyone. Return to your stations.|
At Bernardo’s voice, the troops left behind who’d been whispering to each other with unsettled expressions scatter and disappear.
Bernardo: Gian, I need to talk with you afterwards.
|Gian: Y-Yeah. I know…|
Bernardo stands from his seat and…
…pulls up a bottle of Tennessee Whiskey sunk in the sea of wires and pours a load of it into a coffee cup before placing it in front of me.
Bernardo: …Thank you for earlier, My Sweet. The blood had rushed to my head as well.
|Gian: Eh … what’re you talking about?|
Bernardo’s eyes narrow behind those thick glass walls of his.
|Bernardo: What, that wasn’t your intention? Haha, and here I’d thought you’d taken the chance to prove yourself as the next boss. Either way, it ended up all right.|
…U-Um, excuse me?! And here I’d thought that I’d get a spotlight seat on the carpet or something worse…
Once I relax, Bernardo continues with a slightly tired voice.
|Bernardo: Among us Italian made men, it’s always about picky details. This family lineage or that pedigree or these relations or those connections or another. Only a handful can actually climb up.|
|Bernardo: If you’re not Italian, then… It’s just as Ivan said earlier… The burden falls on the heads of the great majority of the CR:5 soldiers.|
|Gian: Is … that right…?|
|Bernardo: For the moment, they’ve all sworn loyalty … but there’s no one happy with the current situation. No one can blame them for it.|
|Bernardo: It’s a problem I’ve always thought we’d have to deal with down the road … but the GD preempted us while the idea was still only vaguely taking shape.|
|Gian: How to put this … it’s a right dilemma, isn’t it?|
Bernardo: I can only say this now because the Boss isn’t here, but … sometimes, I wonder. Are we too old-fashioned? Or perhaps the very concept of Cosa Nostra itself is old…
Bernardo: If we continue like this, as an organization only accepting Italians, then we can’t win against the newer combinations like the GD. However, if the numbers of non-Italians increase, we’ll collapse.
Bernardo: The Boss, he worked to change us.
Bernardo: And Gian, you are to be at the center of all that new blood…
|Gian: …Looks like this seriously isn’t the time to have a falling out.|
I gulp down the powerful whiskey in one go.
|Bernardo: That bastard named Honus, he’s a shrewd man. He plans to sow unrest and break us apart before the war starts. …That’s why he’d pinpointed Ivan out.|
Bernardo laughs a little desolately … before saying coldly,
|Bernardo: It’s only an infinitesimal possibility, but … if Ivan does turn their way, his crew, all the non-Italian soldiers, will surely follow him.|
|Bernardo: If something like that happens … then the balance of power between us and the GD will overturn in an instant.|
|Gian: …Guess we can’t count on our loyalty to pull us out. We are the Mafia, after all.|
|Bernardo: And the men at Rockefeller don’t even have that. Loyalty to a family is as fantastical as love to them. They just bear with the status quo, that’s all.|
|Gian: Whoo, that’s cold of you.|
|Bernardo: I haven’t even been blessed with such an illusion… Being a virgin at this age hasn’t had a good impact on my personality.|
|Gian: You’re such a liar, you useless old man.|
We empty the cups of whiskey we’d been sipping at.
Bernardo: I’ll be counting on you tomorrow, too. Please, follow Ivan closely.
|Gian: Yeah… If only he’d settle down a little.|
I return the cup to Bernardo and thank him…
…Huh? I’m hit with a small wave of dizziness. Ah, that’s right, I’d thought the drink was working too good…
|Gian: …Right, we skipped dinner…|
Even so, I’m not in the mood to ask for room service or head to a restaurant. I pop some gum into my mouth…
…and head back to my room alone.