Lucky Dog 1 translations 11 Ivan route 02
Part 3: Daivan
Suddenly, Ivan takes a few steps away … and says this with his back to us. And just like that, he tries to get into the elevator, alone.
|Ivan: Looks like I can’t go with you guys. …Sorry.|
|Gian: H-Hey?! Ivan, don’t tell me you’re planning on—|
|Luchino: You’re planning to take their bait?!|
Ivan: Not like I can do anything else. The only fucker who’d do something like this is Honus. It’s my responsibility for not finishing him off the first second I could.
|Cavalli: Ivan … Y-You’ll … save her…?|
|Bernardo: Stop this, Ivan. Even if you go, there’s no way they’d release their hostage. It’s impossible. Do you plan to throw your life away for nothing?|
Ivan: If we just leave her, they’ll just spread rumors about how the CR:5’s full of spineless cowards who leave their women to die.
Luchino’s just about to say something when the words get sucked back into his mouth. …It’s true. They’re the kind of people who’d say stuff like that…
Giulio: …Ivan, do you know where it is?
|Ivan: Yeah … I have a hunch.|
Giulio: Then I could take my men and launch an attack there—
|Ivan: If the head of the raid himself skips out of the attack, what’re you gonna do about the golf park? That’s the goal in all this. …I can take care of things there alone.|
|Ivan: …And even if I fuck up, that’s still fine. As long as I go, they can’t say fucked shit like how we ignore our women or whatever.|
Bernardo tries to argue, too … but his words also get stuck.
Luchino: But … Ivan! If you’re not there … then the mixed bloods … the American troops won’t make a move.
Ivan: Don’t worry about that. I’ll give them all a good talk. …Right, Gian?
He suddenly calls my name and I – pathetic ol’ me who can’t think of any reply or any order to give – jump and turn my face towards him.
Ivan: You got that, right? I’m gonna go settle this shit with that bastard, Honus. All of you head over to that Whatever Park … and take care of the Boss.
|Gian: W-Wait! Alone…?! You can’t! You’re just gonna get yourself killed!!|
Ivan: If that happens, then it happens. …Well, I’ll do my best to stick to this world, though.
|Gian: ‘If that happens, it happens?!’|
I want to punch this moron. Give him a piece of my mind. But … what other way is there?! There’s no time…
|Gian: All right … if I make the decision?|
|Bernardo: Please. We can’t be wasting any more time.|
I… If I could, I’d spend a whole night pondering over this … before shoving the whole problem off for someone else to handle.
|Gian: We’ll go with the attack as planned. Ivan, take care of the chipmunk … of the Miss.|
Ivan: Yeah! Even if I’ve gotta lend Honus my ass, I’ll get her back here safely.
…Truthfully, I want to go, too. …I don’t want to let this idiot head out there alone… …But … I’m the CR:5 boss…
Bernardo: So it’s settled. Let’s go. We have to move the troops.
Bernardo herds us into the elevator that’s been stopped for us the whole time. The airtight bottle of an elevator starts moving.
…we step out into the battlefield.
The number of soldiers that’s gathered’s grown. I think there’s around 50 people here? …And, like I’d thought, Ivan’s Americans make up most of it.
After a while … Bernardo slides into place beside me and talks into my ear in a low voice.
|Bernardo: I’ve told them our target. …There aren’t many who know that you are the next head. I’ll give the orders for now.|
…When Bernardo pulls his face away … I think I see a tiny smile and one of his eyelids sliding shut-and-open for an instant. …What…?
…Don’t tell me…
With the prospect of blood ahead of them, the soldiers are busy shuffling about. Ivan…
…like he’s one of the soldiers himself, walks into the crowd … and leaps onto the table with a thud.
Ivan’s Subordinate A: …Boss?
Ivan’s Subordinate E: Bro!
All the eyes of the guys who look like they belong in a gang focus on Ivan in an instant.
Ivan: Now then … you bastards aren’t kids anymore. Even if I’m not here, you guys still know how to fight, am I right?
Ivan’s Subordinate A: Eh…?
Ivan’s Subordinate E: Bro … what’re you talking about?
The soldiers shuffle about when…
Ivan: I’m headin’ over to take care of one of those GD porkers, one on one. …They’re the ones who brought the challenge to me, so there’s no way I can take you guys with me.
Ivan: So, got it, you bastards?! Even if I’m not there, give ‘em hell like we always do!!
Ivan gave the men his appeal … and the soldiers… They nod, and they say yes, but it’s like they’re stuck on something.
Ivan: The fuck’s this?! Are you assholes little stinkers who don’t even know where the exit is without me around?! Upper-class prissy-pants who can’t even walk out on the street without Mama holding your hands?!
Ivan leaps down from the table…
Bam! Punch! Thud!
…and grabs a hold of several guys. Punches them. Goes on. …He does this even though they’re his men … even though they’ve got threatening, ferocious expressions on, and, on top of that, guns. He just takes them, one after another…
Ivan: All’a ya! What’re you?!
Ivan’s Subordinate A: …We’re your men!
Ivan’s Subordinate E: …We’re the Mafia! We’re your men—
Ivan: What’re ya?! Pimps?! Delinquents?! Sharks?!
Ivan: What’s yer job?! Punch out the crumbs and threaten ‘em?! Scrounge out money from the girls?!
|Ivan: That’s right!! You’re not!! You’re Mafia!! You’re CR:5 soldiers!! And what’s a soldier’s job?!|
Ivan’s Subordinate A: To kill!!
Ivan’s Subordinate E: To kill them all! Stick those GD pigs on a stick!!
Soldiers: Kill!! Kill!! Kill!!
The men … transform into something different. Something not human … but more animal.
Ivan: You fuckers are all soldiers!! The CR:5’s beasts!! It doesn’t matter if you’re Italian or mixed, if you’re white or black!! You guys are the worst of the worst hitmen!! You’re soldiers!!
Ivan: Slaughter those stupid boneheads who thought they could pick a fight with us!! Don’t let a single one of ‘em go! …Even if they try to lay low in hell, we’ll just run ‘em down and make ‘em suffer there!!
Ivan’s Subordinate A: Yeaaaaaaah!!
The atmosphere … the very air becomes charged, shivering with something. I … no, even Bernardo and Luchino and the others are awed by the sight.
Ivan: …I gave ‘em a talk. You think that’s good ‘nough?
|Luchino: …That has quite the punch.|
|Bernardo: …That’s enough. It’s more effective than some subpar drugs I’ve seen.|
Bernardo cuts through the soldiers, enthusiasm practically swirling around the troops, and gives orders to their leaders.
Bernardo: …The commanding officers of all divisions, gather here! I have important orders for you!!
In the parking lot behind the hotel, countless more dark shadows and headlight beams have gathered since earlier. The big box-like shadow holds Luchino’s truck regiment.
The truck’s headlights turn on and the engine growls softly, stirring up the air.
|Bernardo: …It’s one hour by car to the golf park. It looks like we’ll be able to start this before sunrise.|
In the backseat to the Ford that serves as the commander’s vehicle sits the commander for this assault, Bernardo, who’d spoken these words to his guards in the front seats.
Bernardo’s Subordinate A: The vanguard has left. We’ll be leaving now, too.
Under the driver’s hands, the Ford departs. The front window is lit by the headlight of the sedan that will lead the troops up to the golf park…
Bernardo’s Subordinate B: …Captain Fiore … has also left.
A beam of light slices through the dark of the night as the enormous body of the Mercedes glides forward like a white swan. …Only that car is heading in a different direction.
|Bernardo: …Looking the other way is a hard thing to do.|
Bernardo says this with a whisper and a dry laugh.
The guards … and everyone else continue to pretend they don’t notice that there is no one sitting in the car next to him…
The Mercedes turns its headlights towards a different exit than the one the truck troop’s heading for. Crawling forward in low gear, it slowly dodges around the lines of cars…
…I run. I zip forward with everything I’ve got … and plaster myself to the passenger side door.
|Ivan: ..?! A-Aagh!!|
|Gian: …Phoowhee! Just barely made it.|
|Ivan: B-B-Barely my ass!! The fuck are you doing here?!|
|Gian: I’m already in! …So let’s get going. The princess and the evil magician are waiting for us.|
|Ivan: Wh-What the hell’re you talking about, you idiot…?!|
|Gian: Oh just get going already. You’re clogging up the road behind you, you know?|
One of the cars carrying Bernardo’s detachment forces comes up from behind the Mercedes, crossing headlights with it.
Ivan clicks his tongue…
|Ivan: Shit, you idiot…!|
He shifts the gears and steps on the gas, moving the Mercedes forward again. Ivan switches between looking ahead and me and somewhere out there before saying,
|Ivan: Why the fuck’d you come…?! Just me’s enough! …Get off! Sit your ass back in the hotel room!|
|Gian: Fuck no, I’m not playing caretaker for Grampa Cavalli! ‘sides … if you go alone, you’re getting whacked, the end, for sure.|
|Ivan: If you come along they’ll just have another body to take care of!|
|Gian: But whyyy? …So you were planning on dying there.|
A choke, and Ivan starts growling. I sprawl out on the seat and blow a bubble from the bubblegum I’m chewing, as though to declare to the world I’m not moving another inch.
|Gian: …You’re the moron for trying to take this all on alone. You should lemme in on the bet, too.|
|Gian: It feels like the GD and that fucking Honus are getting pretty panicked. It doesn’t matter if they’ve gotten wind of our all-out attack – it’s all so sudden there’s no way they can counter.|
|Gian: That’s why they’re purposely going out of their way to pick you outta the loop, ‘cause you’ve got the most pieces out of all of us. …And we can use that to threaten ‘em and turn the tables.|
|Ivan: …You think things’ll go that nicely?|
|Gian: It’s a lot more constructive than sending you off to a dog’s death alone, doncha think? Well, to be honest, I’m not all too sure about it either.|
|Ivan: What’s the point then?!|
|Gian: That’s why I said it was a ‘bet!’ …A bet that the Lucky Dog’s not just for show. You’ve seen it yourself quite a few times, right?|
Ivan groans, choking on his words again. He whams the steering wheel, whacking it a few times as the Mercedes slides out onto one of the main streets in the night.
|Gian: ‘sides, I really love drives. Especially if I’m in the front seat but not the one doing the driving.|
|Ivan: What a lazy ass. …Whatever happens, it’s not my fault!|
Ivan complains up a storm. He sticks his hand into one of his pockets and pulls out a blazingly colored lollipop and shoves it my way.
|Ivan: Unwrap it and gimme.|
I pull off the paper, lukewarm from body heat and sticking to the lollipop … before sticking the candy in my mouth.
…Ack, milk caramel…?
|Gian: Urgh. This candy sucks balls.|
|Ivan: Ah! Why the hell are you eating it, dipshit?!|
I pull out the candy, sticky from my mouth, and shove it into Ivan’s angry maw. His eyes go wide before he starts chewing the thing…
|Ivan: Uwah, you idiot! That’s dirty!|
|Gian: Don’t say something’s dirty after all that perverted shit you’ve done already, stupid.|
|Ivan: Wh-Wh—?! Th-That’s got nothin’ to do with this!!|
|Gian: …So! Where’s this ‘place’ the card talked about?|
At the sudden change in topic, Ivan turns red in the face and chomps his candy some … before talking, turning his angry mug out front.
|Ivan: …The port. We went once, remember? The warehouse down by the Rockfort ship scrapyard.|
|Gian: And … Rosalia’s there? The card said it was a ‘place of memories.’|
|Ivan: Back … when I did some trading with Honus without knowing who the fuck he was … I was graced with his fat cock-sucking face for the first time there in that warehouse.|
…I see. So that’s why it’s the “place of memories”… Rockfort Port … is pretty close to here. We’ll be arriving before Bernardo’s forces reach their destination.
I sink into the seat and blow the gum some more… Given the time, I’m not surprised at how sparse the streetlights and window lights and headlights are as I lazily watch them pass by.
…Just sitting still like this…
…is scary. Tell the truth, I’m freaked out. In all honesty, I’m jealous of those fervent soldiers from back at the hotel ground floor and of their courage and foolish wholeheartedness.
…anything’s much, much better than letting this guy, than letting Ivan go out alone … and regretting it later, alone.
The car pulls out of the sparsely lit main street and heads down a road leading into downtown.