Lucky Dog 1 translations 10 Ivan route 02 best
Part 3: Daivan
Chapter 10 Best
The phone starts ringing off the hook amidst all the awkwardness. Everyone jumps and looks at it. Bernardo reaches for the receiver.
|Bernardo: It’s me. …Whose? …Huh? Understood. Patch it through.|
Bernardo covers the mouth with his hand and looks this way with an expression like he’d found sand in his sandwich.
|Bernardo: It’s from Counselor Cavalli. I wonder what he’s calling for…?|
|Luchino: It wouldn’t be the Board raising a ruckus again, would it?|
|Ivan: Fucking geezers. Just stuff arsenic up their asses and be done with it.|
|Bernardo: Quiet. …This is Bernardo. What’s wrong?|
Bernardo talks into the receiver. His face… Immediately, it pinches into something bitter, like he’s swallowed castor oil.
|Bernardo: …Really…? But that’s too dangerous…|
…What’re they talking about? Bernardo and the Gramps don’t really reach a conclusion, arguing back and forth like they’re caught in a heated question-answer session.
|Bernardo: …Understood. If we to assign some guards to protect and monitor him, then… Give my regards to the directors… Yes.|
He hangs up. Bernardo ruffles his bangs back and forth before giving a long, long sigh.
Bernardo: …First off, Ivan. You have permission to leave.
|Gian: Eh…? What’d you mean? We’re off the hook?|
Bernardo: No, unfortunately not. …It’s more … an order to head out rather than permission to go out. Ivan – and you too, Gian – hurry and get ready.
Bernardo: From here, you’re heading to Counselor Cavalli’s mansion. You’ll … be enjoying a dinner party there. Have fun.
Ivan: Whaaa?! The hell?! What the fuck’re you talking about?!
|Bernardo: On the surface, you’re going to the Counselor’s house to receive direct disciplinary action from him as the elder of the family. In reality, you’re going to the mansion to enjoy dinner and a pleasant conversation.|
|Gian: Ah … don’t tell me…|
In my mind, an image of a sailor-uniformed chipmunk with little wagging pigtails that swayed as she walked popped up with a bling in my mind.
Bernardo: …This is because Miss Rosalia is back for the weekend… Understand, Ivan? It seems like she has something ‘very important’ she wants to talk to you about.
|Luchino: Oh, is that what it is…? The little Miss is at the age where she dreams big dreams. Must be hard being such a lady-killer, Ivan.|
Ivan: Sh-Shut up!! What the hell?! The fuck’s going on?! You’re telling me to go to a dinner party when fights’re going down all over my turf?!
So the other captains know about the existence of a granddaughter… Well, I guess it’s not really something you can hide.
Ivan: I’m not going! No way in hell I’m going!!
|Bernardo: I’m also against letting you out right now…|
|Bernardo: …but it’d be worse if you rubbed the Consigliere, who’s also the head of the elders, the wrong way. …Will you go, Ivan?|
Ivan: Fuck that! Screw the Counselor! Screw the ‘little Miss!!’ If you wanna take me there, then cut my head off and send it there!
If there’s such a thing as inspiration, then that’s exactly what the spark flashing through my mind at that moment was. I subtly stomp on the whining fool’s foot.
|Ivan: I’m— Erk, ow!!|
|Gian: We can’t have the Gramps leaving our side, too, after all! If you get the lady all mad, then you get on Gramps’ bad side, too, right? …I’ll keep watch over Ivan.|
|Ivan: H-Huh?! Hey, don’t go deciding things on yo—|
This time, I give him a strong kick. …Ivan finally realizes that I’ve got something up my sleeve.
|Gian: Let’s get going, Ivan. Bernardo, will there be an entourage?|
Bernardo: Of course. Oh right, your evening formal… …I suppose you’ll just have to borrow clothes from one of our men with a similar size and change there.
|Gian: ‘K. Counting on you.|
I show Ivan, who’s staring at me with gleaming eyes like he’s spotted prey, a little smile at the corners of my mouth…
…Somehow, it feels like it’s been a super long time since I’ve left the room. Ivan follows me to the elevator.
When I’d looked out the hotel window, I’d thought the sunset was still resting on the tips of the buildings…
…but down below, in the chasm between the buildings, the sunset was dark enough that it was like it was almost night. Countless headlights zip around in the dark as cars zoom by.
And in the midst of some hastily moving black sedans, a Mercedes slowly rolls its colossal white body into view.
|Gian: Let’s go. The sun’s almost set.|
|Ivan: Shit, this’s so annoying…! Why do I have to go protect the brat…|
I hurry the idiot muttering complaints under his breath along towards the Mercedes. The driver and the guard look to be Bernardo’s men.
Ivan and I slide into the backseat which is actually more like a leather-covered sofa than a car seat, when…
The massive engine raises a roar and the Mercedes zooms into the night street as though sliding on ice.
In front and behind us are two pitch-black Chevrolets each. It feels more like an escort to the police rather than an entourage, and the image sticks with me.
The sun starts sinking and the streets start getting congested.
|Gian: Don’t have to be in such a hurry.|
I nonchalantly throw these words up to the driver and guard in the front seat. The two of them’ve started checking their watches over and over again while quietly cursing at the bad traffic.
Grampa Cavalli’s mansion’s in a bunch of hills on the outskirts. Once we’re out of the city, it’s a straight drive there…
There’s only one chance. It’s all or nothing…
The car stops at the signal at the intersection. I give Ivan’s foot a small kick.
|Ivan: Why you…! Quit it already…!!|
I signal with my eyes the road to the left and then the pistol crammed in my belt to Ivan. The idiot only responds with question marks appearing all over his head.
|Ivan: Huh…? …Ah. Seriously…?|
…A little late to the party, stupid. I smirk…
|Gian: Hey, Mr. Driver.|
The driver turns a little back towards us. My grin stays on.
|Gian: Don’t move. Same goes for you.|
I point my piece at the driver’s neck.
Bernardo’s Subordinate B: Wha—?! Wh-What are you doing?!
|Gian: I’m really sorry. This is what you’d call a “hold up,” I guess? Both of you, get out while the light’s still red.|
Bernardo’s Subordinate B: W-We can’t…! We can’t do something like that…!
|Gian: There’s not ‘can’t’ or ‘fucking won’t’ when I’ve got a gun trained on you, is there? Please get out. This is a request from the future Boss. If the signal turns green, I’m shooting, and it might be for real.|
I give the driver a little poke with the gun, still warm from the heat from my stomach.
Bernardo’s Subordinate B: U-Understood…
Smack in the middle of a belt of congested traffic, the Mercedes’ doors open.
The two men in the front seat roll out into the street. …The cars following us’ve probably figured out something weird’s going on.
|Gian: Ivan! Let’s go!!|
|Ivan: A-All right!!|
Ivan swaps seats, flailing all the while as he sinks into the driver’s seat. I just open the door, get out, and get back in shotgun like a normal person.
The instant the door closes…
…the engine howls and the car’s body shakes a little as the white mass slides out of the lanes of traffic.
Ivan gives a shout, lips bared back. He jerks the wheel impossibly hard. The tires screech horribly against the road … and still, the car swerves.
The Mercedes glides into a back alley, the two walls on either side so close they’re almost scratching the paint, before he accelerates. The boxes and carts left in the way are demolished.
|Gian: H-Hey! Don’t go overboard here!!|
|Ivan: That’s my line! Never thought you’d hijack the car from them!|
I look and see several Chevrolets milling about the entrance to the alley reflected in the back mirror. …Operation Entourage was a failure. …I’m sorry. Seriously, I really am.
|Ivan: Haha! Fuck that was close! That was so close!! I thought my breath and piss were gonna get so clogged up I was gonna die!!|
|Gian: Same here on the right!|
The colossus sprints down the dark alley stupidly fast, lighting the way up with powerful headlights like a shining through Martian’s ray gun.
|Gian: Hey, aren’t you going a bit fast?! Wait … you’re over 50 miles per hour here!!|
|Ivan: I could do this in my sleep! You’ve seen nothing yet!|
|Gian: …So? Mr. White-Knight-in-Shining-Armor, we launching a “Let’s go!” to the princess?|
|Ivan: No fucking waaay!! First…!|
The Mercedes’ tires raise a cry as Ivan turns the right angle down a signal-less crossroad.
|Ivan: I owe you one!! Thanks for getting me out…!|
|Gian: You wanna thank someone, thank the chipmunk! After that … the only thing left is to get a hold of Bernardo later! …He’s probably gonna be really pissed.|
|Ivan: Just leave that to me.|
I finally figure out where the car’s heading.
The giant of a Mercedes heads towards the station warehouses.