Lucky Dog 1 translations 09 Giulio route 02 best

Part 3: Daivan

Chapter 9

Mad Dog

We have the taxi park some ways from our target.  We leave the car and set off down the filthy streets.  There’s the huge factory buildings.  Between them, a small community of dwellings.  And a path crossing through it…

Steam wafts up from the sewers dotted here and there all along the ground that’s eternally soaked with puddles of sewage, polluting the air that’s already murky on the best of days.

Gian: This is downright awful, this place.  Yet, people still live around here, even like this, eh…

Giulio: The neighborhood in this area was only recently inhabited.  It is likely there are many illegal immigrants.

He drops the bluntly brutal words like it’s nothing as he continues on.  Plus … I’d been feeling some unsettling stares on my back or rather creeping down my neck for a while now…

It’s the stares coming from the people living in the area, from within the cardboard-like homes, the apartments on the verge of collapsing.  From the crevices between the steel ribs of the factory.

None of them come into the open.  Maybe they’d seen the GD settling in last night and had holed themselves up out of fright…

We go in a bit further and reach the factory Bernardo’d indicated in his orders.  If I remember right, it’s the industrial park for a sheet metal factory that makes springs for cars.

Suddenly, Giulio’s moves his lips, barely and nothing else.

Giulio: Please do not turn around…  We are being followed…

I almost stop my feet and say something, but just barely I catch myself and continue onward without a hitch.

Gian: …Is it GD?

Giulio: They are wearing riveted shoes.  …They are not factory workers or unemployed workers.

…I see.  So this is their “Please welcome to our humble abode”?

Gian: What’re we gonna do?  Preempt ‘em?

Giulio: They are probably carrying guns…  Let us … go somewhere open.

I give a small thumb’s up within Giulio’s vision.  Plus…

Today, I’d brought this baby.  I pet the steel of the pistol jammed into my belt, the one I’d practically forgotten about, and rein in my jumpiness.

Giulio:  ….Heh…  …Hehe…

…?  …Huh?  Giulio’s looking down … and his expression…  His eyes…

At some point in time, the stuffed, mounted dog had disappeared, nowhere to be seen.

…And in its place, gleaming rabidness.  The Mad Dog…

     

Then, it happened, just as we’d moved into where the sunlight hits a corner in the alleyway.

Right there, in front of my eyes, is an old collapsing warehouse, entrance gaping wide open with its door missing .  Then…

Bam.

Gian: Gh, whoa!!

The roar of gunshot crackles from behind.  I pull my neck in by instinct and my feet freeze.  Giulio beside me doesn’t even blink…

…as he stops just a little behind me.  …Why … wasn’t he scared?  …Did he know the bullets weren’t flying this way?

GD Soldier 1: …Don’t move, fucking macaroni bastards!!

Click.

From behind, the harsh insult-laden shout echoes through the alley.

Me, to the right.  Giulio, to the left.  We shift so that we’re back-to-back.  There’s three bastards tailing us.

And from another road, another five carrying leather blackjacks and a hunting rifle.  Looks like they’re trying to surround us.  …So they have a grasp of the terrain already?

GD Soldier 2: Don’t move!  Don’t ya move a fucking muscle!!

GD Soldier 3: Just two?  The fuck ya think you are?!

GD gangsters … I think.  Mixed in with them here and there are brats who just look out of a job.

All of them are packing weapons, inching forward.  Surrounding us.  Then,

Max: Hey, take care of their luggage.

From behind the shadows of the wooden crates lying abandoned in the warehouse lumbers up a brawny, solid ox-like man.  …Oh.  GD and sickle tattoo on the arm!  Nice and clear.

As another revolver points in our direction, numerous trembling hands reach towards me and Giulio and ruffle through our clothes.  I raise my hand slightly, and Giulio…

…Usually, this’d be a completely hopeless situation, but…  I shoot a glance at Giulio.  His face is calm, like he’s listening to a record…

…No, that’s not it.  A smile, with a tint of blood.  Standing there’s the Mad Dog.  I push a grin forward onto my face.

Gian: That’s a mighty pricey piece you’ve got there!  Make sure you don’t drop it.  Don’t think you could afford it with the jobs you’re pulling off here.

GD Soldier 1: Shaddap!  …Huh?  …Boss!  This wop’s not packing!!

The young hoodlum checking Giulio raises his voice.  …?  He didn’t find the knife?

Max: What’d you say?  You…  Ain’t ya Daivan Mafia?  Think ya’re gonna fuckin’ raid us empty-handed, doncha?!

GD Soldier 2: Hehe, d’you think they just come to buy some girls?

GD Soldier 3: Or maybe they’re on a date together?  Whoo!

The thugs jeer at us something vulgar, trying to get their ox-man boss to laugh.  I shift my eyes and eyes alone and count the number of people around…

There’s probably two pistols…  Mine’s stolen, so that’s three…  Then there’s one rifle…  The rest’ve got clubs and knives.

Max: How the fuck d’ya sniff us out here anyways?  We just got in yesterday.  Still need t’squat and take our first shit here.  Whatever.  Why don’t we sit ‘n have a chat?

In his hand’s grasped an adze, the kind used to chop up firewood.  It’s an old ax, stained with something rather suggestively unpleasant…  The dull blade doesn’t even shine as he turns it towards us.

GD Soldier 2: But, Boss, no way the two of ‘em ‘d come ‘n raid us with nothin’ on ‘em.  They’re probably just some hoodlums got lost here.

GD Soldier 3: Were ya lookin’ for someplace to jerk each other off, kiddo?

…These guys … they’re underestimating the CR:5’s reconnaissance.

…Huh?  …The one who’d given us the orders here … was the Bondone old man.  …The fuck’s going on here?!

How’d that grandpa know about them if they’d just got here…?!

Max: Hahaaa!!  Too scared t’say anythin’, eh?  Ever heard of GD’s Hatchet Max?  That’s me, hear?

Max: Ya know, I use this baby here t’hack up bodies into chunks.  Maybe you’ll feel like talkin’ after all the fingers’re off your hand, eh?

Gian: Who knows ‘bout that…

I respond in accented English.

Gian: We here’ve got some education, y’know.  Unlike you, we know how t’count to ten without our fingers, so that little threat of yours?  Nuh uh, sorry.  Try harder.

Two seconds pass.  Realizing the meaning of the insult, the Max guy’s face turns from arrogant to beet-red, scowling and beast-like.

Max: B-Bastard!  Ya wanna die?!

It’s then Giulio speaks up, voice cold like the wind leaking through a crack in the wall.

Giulio: …Signor Gian, I will deal with the guns first.  Do not duck down.  Please … stay standing as you are.

Giulio’s voice was blunt, void of anything and everything – of hostility, of excitement, of fear … like he’s saying nothing but “Please eat your pasta before your bread.”  I return a small nod.

Max: Say something, fuckers!!

The stupidly bullish musclehead shoves aside the other thugs and stretches an arm towards me.  An instant later … something flashes across my vision.

     

     

GD Soldier 1: …!  Fucker!  Don’t mo—!

     

     

Max: …Guh?!

     

GD Soldier 3: …U-Uh…  Geeeaaaaaah?!  Aaaaaagh!!

GD Soldier 2: W-Wah?!  The fuck?!

Splurt.

By the time I hear the whistling of the knife, his blade had already seized its next victim.  A hand still gripping the rifle clunks to the floor.

And the hatchet-bastard reaching forward to grab me…  All the fingers on his hairy-backed hand, other than his thumb, are missing.

Max: Wh-Wh-What—?!  Gaaaaah!!

Thunk, the axe to the floor.  Max curls in over his deformed left hand and howls like a beast.

GD soldier 3: Eeeeeeeghhaaaaeegh!!  M-My!  My haaaand!!

     

…Giulio…  When?  How did he do that…?

GD Soldier 1: B-Boss?!

GD Soldier 2: F-Fucking assholes!!  The fuck’d you do?!

Click.  Click.

The panic-stricken gangsters, all reason gone from their eyes, point their guns our way, along with the remaining pistols.

I prepare to leap towards the rifle that’d fallen with the hand.

But…

     

…before countless muzzles can point my way…

     

     

…Giulio’s moved.  He’s fast, but it’s not that I couldn’t see him.  …I did see it.  Just, by the time I’d noticed it was all over.

GD Soldier 1: ………

GD Soldier 2: …Buh…!

Giulio: …Tsk…

     

All the ones about to shoot us all, everyone … dies.  Simultaneously, instantaneously, before I could even count to “one”…

Gian: Wh-Whoa…

The three men holding guns have a cut sliced through their neck.  Dead in an instant.  As they’re still swaying on their feet, blood gurgles from their cut carotid, spraying about before they crumple onto the grimy floor.

     

     

Max: U-Uhhh?!  What?!  Reinforcements?!

A despairing shriek from the macho, still not comprehending the situation.  The remaining gangsters hesitate, panic in their eyes – Run away?  Run towards their Boss?  Kill us?

GD Soldier 5: B-Boss!  I’m gonna go call—  Eeeeh…!

     

One of the hoodlums tries to escape.  The moment he turns his back to us, a perfectly horizontal red line appears on the back of his neck … and he pitches forward and falls.

Giulio: …Do not run.  More…

     

Clink, the knife clatters within Giulio’s hand.  At the same time, the man whose wrist had been sliced off with the rifle, who’d been rolling about in the dirt, becomes still.

     

A red geyser shoots from his back like a hose.

GD Soldier 4: U-Uwaah!!  Eeee!!

Click.

The brat who’d snitched my gun points the muzzle up towards me … but pulling the trigger only causes an empty clack clack.  Well, of course it would.  I hadn’t loaded the gun yet.

GD Soldier 4: U-Uwh?!  Fuuuck!!

I reach out and snatch the pistol back from him.

Thunk.

The man who’s honestly scared as a brat falls when I whack him with the pistol grip.  In the corner of my eyes…

     

…Giulio’s shadow blurs.

     

     

And … it’s over.  …I’d only managed to pathetically knock out one.  …The other seven are bodies stretched out in the dirt.

Squelch.

I step down hard on the dirt-turned-sludge.  The raw stench of blood, after all this time, finally reaches my nose.

Gian: …Amazing…

Giulio gazes down at the bloodstained knife and red leather glove, his eyes flashing with blood-drunk madness and feral grins.  No hiding it now.

I … was mistaken this whole time.  It’s not that Giulio leads the strongest troops in battle.  No, he himself is the CR:5’s most powerful troop.

Well, even if I’d heard this from others, I wouldn’t have believed it without seeing it with my own eyes.

Max: G-Guuugh…!  Y-You bas’durds…  Jes…?

Kneeling in the bloody slush is the whatever-his-name macho face, groaning.

The blood oozing from his fingerless hand stains his arm red up to the elbow.

Max: Wh-Who’re you?!  Why…?  They’re … ev’ryone’s dead…  Shiiiit!!  Fuck!  I neb’r heard a thing ‘bout this!!

He’s probably got no idea what just happened…  …I’m in the same boat.

Giulio checks our surroundings for any remaining enemies, finds none, and heads closer to the kneeling macho-face.

Max: Fuck…!  That’s not what he…!  U-Uaaagh?!  Guh…!!

Like ripping up grass from a lawn, Giulio seizes the man’s bangs and jerks his head up, exposing his throat.  Just when I get what’s about to happen…

Gian: Hey, wait…!  Let him talk—!

     

Max: G-Guah!!  …Ee…

The blade scrapes roughly against the man’s throat, splitting it open.  Air leaks out through the mouth, through the throat, with fresh blood jetting out like a ruptured fire hydrant.

Giulio: …Heh … haha…  Haa…

Gian: Ungh…

Here comes the nausea…

     

Giulio: Haa … huuh…  …Ah.  Signor … Gian…

Giulio’s eyes slide over, staring at me.  The color, the madness blazing within, makes me step back.

…He’s gonna kill me.  …The thought seriously goes through my mind.

Giulio: …What is … the matter…?

The color of blood staining the ground and the madness disappears from the eyes looking at me.

Gian: ‘What’…?  Why’d you go and whack him?  We could’ve made him talk…

Giulio: …The order … was to kill … everyone…

I can’t find the words…  Speechless, that’s what it is.  One of the corpses covered in bloody mud at our feet groans.  Starts crawling.

GD Soldier 4: G-ghngh … Uah…! Hah!  Hee…!!

It’s the kid I’d smacked.  He drags himself through the blood and grime, slithering like a bug or a toad, trying to get away from us.

Just when I catch onto what’s happening … Giulio’s left hand’d already grabbed the ax – the adze that’d been in hand of that Max-guy…

     

Gian: Ah!  …You idiot…

Even I start getting annoyed and glare at Giulio.

Gian: Why…  Why’d … you even have to off the kid, too?!

Giulio: …It was … the order…  Grandfather … had said, ‘Kill them.’

Gian: …!!  Still…!!

‘So you won’t listen to my orders?!’ … was what I was about to say when I swallow the words.  …Are they words I can really say as I am now?

And … suddenly, I notice…

Gian: H-Hey…?!

Giulio brings up his hand and knife, gleaming with blood, holding them out under the sun…  His tongue catches a drop of red dripping off.  …Like an awkward kiss, he brings it to the blood coating the knife…

…and licks.  Puts the blade between his lips.

Giulio: …Mm…  Huu, hah … hah…

Chuffling, like breaths leaking out.  I’ve seen Giulio’s smile, his awkward smile countless time, but…

…This is the first time I’ve heard him laugh…

Gian: …Giulio…!  …Hey!  What’re you—?!

Giulio: …Gh…  Aah … haa…

Gian: …H-Hey…!

Giulio doesn’t see me.  It’s true his eyes and face’re turned this way … but his pitch black eyes don’t see me.

Giulio: Haah … haa, heh…  Haa….

Giulio laps at the blood soiling his knife and leather glove…  No, he … savors it…  I push down the desire to run far, far away, and instead…

Gian: H—!  …Hey!  Giulio!

I snatch Giulio’s hand a bit roughly and wrench him over to face me.  Giulio’s face and eyes tremble violently, sway…

Giulio: …Ah…  Oh … Signor … Gian…

Focusing on me, the madness again snuffs out of Giulio’s eyes … and is replaced by something akin to fear.

Gian: Why’re you…?!  …Blood?!  That’s just…!

Giulio: …A-Am…  Am…

Giulio’s eyes are like glass marbles.

Giulio: …I dirty…?

Gian: …

---

Gian: Stop it with that…!

I grasp Giulio’s hand.  My hand’s dirty with blood now, too, but still, I give him a strong shake.

Giulio: …Signor Gia—

The glass marbles waver and emotion, like a liquid, drains back into them.

…Emotions of fear and anxiety.

Giulio: A-Am I … dirty…?

…At first, I don’t understand what he’s saying.  …Because he’s got blood on him?  Or because he’s licking the blood?  …Or…

Gian: You’re not dirty or anything…

I just noticed.  The only places Giulio’s got blood on him … are his hand, knife, and lips.  And also the bottom of his shoes.

There’s no blood splatter on him at all.  The same goes for me.  My clothes are spick-span clean … even though so much blood’d been flying about everywhere…

Did Giulio calculate the whole thing at the speed the whole slaughter’d gone…?  And make it so no blood got on me either?  …It’s getting harder and harder to believe…

Gian: B-…  But … something’s a bit off with licking blood, I think.

Giulio: …My … a- … -polo- … -gies…  I…

Gian: Why do you … that?

Giulio: It is … strange, is it…?  Seeing this…  I become … wrong…

Giulio’s voice falls silent, like it and his body have just about almost vanished into the bloody swamp.  I take a deep breath to calm down … and choke on the scent of blood.

Gian: Just … look at ‘em!  They’re no-good thugs!  They’re no illicit maiden virgin love affair Dracula’d whisked away!

Giulio: …But … the blood … is the same…

Off-kilter again…

Gian: I mean, guys like them, they might have some disease or something!  You get sick from licking their blood, that’s not even funny!

Giulio: …I understand…

Gian: You get a sex disease as a virgin, even crying won’t fix it, got it?

Giulio stares down at the bloody muck practically burying his shoes … and pulls a handkerchief out from his pocket – a pure white one, expensive and made of silk – and dabbles it around his mouth.

As I’m thinking up ways to skedaddle from this place, his voice reaches my ears.

Giulio: I must … be clean…

Gian: Huh?

Giulio: If I do not … even Signor Gian … would become dirty … from staying with me…

…Hahaha, yeah, he’s twisted.  …He’s a killing machine, gets excited off corpses and blood, and yet, he’s standing there like a scolded kid…

Gian: You’re not dirty.

Giulio: …Is … that true…?

Before I can reply, Giulio’s hand, slightly trembling and still dirt black from the dried blood clinging to the glove despite the handkerchief, stretches towards my face.

Bathump.

Gian: …Giulio?

I know, but my hand shudders.  He won’t hurt me.  I know, but…

It’s like having a blood-covered road roller come flying at 55mph at you and coming to a stop just inches from your face.  That’s what it feels like.

Giulio’s fingers gently catches both my cheeks, cradles them like they’re carrying a glass vase.  His hands tremble … from nervousness?  Awe?

Giulio’s anxiety-filled face and eyes approach…

     

Gian: Giulio, h-hey…

Giulio: Mm, haa…

Gian: …Nngh … mm, uh…

A direct but slow kiss, gentle as kneeling before a statue of the Holy Mother, seals my mouth.  …Here, in the middle of the sea of bodies, a festival of red.

…I’d expected to taste blood, but I don’t.

…A chill, then warm lips…

Giulio: Ah … haa…  Signor Gian…

Giulio’s face and hands leave me, moves away in the same trajectory, with the same speed, the same movements with which they’d come.  I scratch my hair a bit…

Gian: …Jeez, that was sudden…

Gian: Let’s get going.  I’ve gotta make a call to Bernardo somewhere…

Giulio: …Let us leave across there, from where they had come.

Giulio and I weave around the bodies, avoiding them…

Suddenly, my eyes stop on one of the corpses lying prostrate on the ground.  That’s…  If I remember right, that’s the boss, Max or something.  His body’s…

There’s something sticking out of the back pockets of its crimson-stained chino pants.  A wallet and … some kind of memo…?

Giulio: …What is it?

Gian: Might be something useful.  Maybe some super GD secret?  …Probably not.

I quickly stuff the memo into my own pocket.  Giulio and I take off, dashing out of the alley with the warehouse.

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