K (karanguni) wrote in 1931, @ 2008-04-22 16:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | translations |
Tagging updates + Translation bit
Asylum news: Because I am a dork, I only recently realised that I could niggle the asylum into letting people tag their entries with whatever they want. 8D Now that that's done, everyone can tag their stuff as they like it - sorry for the inconvenience up till now. *sheepish*
To make it up to everyone, here - have the first part of the epilogue to 1932: Drugs and the Dominos.
Runorata Family
Outskirts of Newark, New Jersey.
'And after?'
An old man was standing on the lawn, there under the clear, bright sky. Behind him was a younger man - one of Gustavo's subordinates, in particular the one who usually ran the reports.
'Miraculously, Gustavo managed to survive. We don't know how it happened, but his carotid was hurt. The rest of the members were ruled as having acted in self defence. As for his throat injury, they say that it was a result of him having acted while mentally unsound.' In the face of his true boss - Baltoro - the subordinate delivered his report swiftly and without preamble. This was totally unlike his oft-terrified reports to Gustavo. 'Additionally, the police have pinned the deaths of the Genoards on him. His arrest is now just a matter of them; we've already settled the necessary cover-up. The government agents I spoke to said that the issue is still wide open, so we'd best wash our hands of him while we can.'
'Oh?' Baltoro nodded his head slightly, murmuring to himself as he watched the sky. 'Might as well. He's lucky.'
'Excuse me?'
'The other Families want me to bring him forward for their "judgement".' Baltoro spoke as if he were simply discussing business. 'Gustavo's done some "pretty" things in his time. It would've been best if he managed to take hold of Gandor territory, since I'd struck a deal with the Five Families and agreed to hand them the Gandors' turf should we succeed. They wanted Gustavo's head if we failed. But since it ended up being done on neutral ground, none of the Families can act without stirring up more trouble than it's worth. Gustavo's lucky. We'll receive compensation for this.' That said, Baltoro stopped, sighing at the ignorance of his underlings.
'The world's changing. Whether it's disposing of traitors or taking revenge for your brothers, nothing can go forward anymore without the approval of "parliaments" and "senators".'
After Lucky Luciano's revolution, the world of the mafia was hurtling towards a more… modern systemisation. Politicians were becoming more powerful, and even significant groups like the Jews and the Irish mob were suffering changes. The Runoratas had to keep up with the tide. For the sake of cutting the losses and avoiding violent encounters, it was best to choose the path of "co-existence". Only - only Baltoro had wanted to continue operating independently.
'Reggie Luciano is a powerful man. He has no real hold over his organisation - but he brought about changes the system that made it more political. He knew that if he ended up the nucleus of his organisation, the man who'd fall first would be no one other than himself. With the new system, anyone can become a leader. Aah, it could all have been his for a little while.'
In a brief moment of weakness, Baltoro let his subordinate see a flash of emotion as it worked its way across his features. 'Perhaps what'll come will be the some of the harshest times yet. Whether we are able to work together and stand against those who'd rather see us gone… I wonder.'
The subordinate blinked in surprise. 'But what about the Gandors?'
'We've already signed a ceasefire agreement. From now we aren't enemies - we coexist.'
'And we let it drop just like that? When a tiny family like that has some sort of weird connection with the assassin "Vino"?'
'You understand nothing!' In that flash of a moment, Baltoro'd regained his icy exterior. He pinned his subordinate with a bespectacled glare. 'In our world, it's all or nothing. Should we be enemies or allies? Can we even coexist? You have to go one way or the other. No one in our world tolerates "weakness". No one can afford to assume that their opponents are weaker than they are. And after that, you have to keep going -- in that sense, Gustavo and I share like thoughts. But I made the Gandors out to be all, Gustavo made them out to be nothing. That's all.' That said, Baltoro waved a hand in the direction of his villa. His young grandson was running towards him.
'When my grandson grows up, will the Gandors be his enemies? Or his neighbours? I wonder.'
Baltoro walked forward, saying to his subordinate as he went: 'Keith Gandor. Now there's an enigmatic man.'
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Gandor Family. 1932, January the 5th.
Ka-cha.
Keith silently hung up the phone, and put on his coat in preparation to head home. It'd been a month since he'd been back; it didn't sit well with him.
'I hope Miss Katie's doing well!'
Keith smiled a silent smile, nodding slightly before he left the room.
-- Keith'd said quite a bit on the phone, hm.
Whether or not he knew what Berga was thinking, Keith stayed silent as he walked away, as if words just cost too much.
The Gandor Family's headquarters had resumed its normal operations. Only Luck was there, lying on the sofa with a heavy heart.
'There's nothing to do…'
(ed: something about Gustavo here that I'm unsure of - left it out)
'You can't do that, amigo! You can't use scissors to cut vegetables!'
'Ah - but it tastes good when you do it like this. Hey, what does "amigo" mean?'
'It means "friend"!'
'Uwaahh, it's the first time I've been called a "friend" by a girl!'
From the office's kitchen came the sounds of Tic and the Mexican girl engaged in cheerful conversation. It was the first time the girl'd been to the offices, so all the members of the family looked -- astonished.
'Tha-- Luck-san, that girl --'
'Please don't take any notice of her.'
'But --'
'If you have to take notice, then pretend that you haven't.'
'Huh?'
Luck stared at the ceiling as the members began to leave one after another. He sighed.
-- Kei-nii, Kei-nii. It was something that only men and perverts like Tic should do, but you still let me cut one of those bastard's hands off.
(ed: Kei-nii: elder-brother Keith. Luck was using the term on purpose, I think, and it sounds better in the Japanese, so I kept it.)
No point dwelling. It was past now. And it looked like they had another impressive talent added to their ranks now. And who knew where Claire ("too little exercise on the train last night", indeed) had got to. Probably off to look for the girl he was going to marry. Such as he was, that capricious guy.
But the Gandor family member who was probably most capricious, most bored and most aimless right now – Luck stared up at the ceiling, sighed, and thought back to what had happened earlier that week.
-----------------------
'Miss! M-m-miss! I'm very sorry – because I, Benjamin, have not been paying attention, I've let you get entangled in this very dangerous situation!'
Eve didn't let either Benjamin or Samansa continue with their apologies.
'Mister Benjamin, Miss Samansa, I, I—'
She felt two gentle knocks against her head. Looking up, Eve saw Samansa smiling gently. 'Don't worry. It's all behind us now.'
Just as Eve was about to leave the room, Luck limped slowly towards her.
'Ah....' Eve was at a loss for words. This was her brother's mortal enemy – a man who'd openly said as much, a man who'd openly declared that he'd done all those kinds of things – but even so, it'd been Luck who'd saved her.
If it'd only been her and that gun, Eve was sure that she probably wouldn't be here talking to Benjamin and Samansa. She'd been saved by that man more than once, and yet she hadn't said a word of thanks.
And even then, even after all Luck had done for her – she still wanted to save Dallas, wanted it from the bottom of her heart.
How on earth was she supposed to talk to this man?
Luck passed Eve a piece of paper, before saying: 'When the time comes that you think that the pain I feel for the men I've lost has been assuaged by your brother's suffering, do what you like with that. I'll leave that decision in your hands.'
That said, Luck turned and made to leave the room.
There was a map of the Hudson drawn on the piece of paper, and a marking over one of its points.
'This – Mister Luck!'
'Don't say anything. I don't care if you want to swear at me or thank me. I'll just get angry either way.'
Watching as Luck moved away, Eve could only hold the piece of paper tightly against her breast.
-----------------------
If what he'd done got leaked, then it'd probably be his brothers who'd sink him into the river. And then what would he have to say to his murdered friends?
If it were Firo, he'd probably shrug and say that "since they're dead there's nothing to explain to them anyway". Firo was likely colder than Luck was, in that sense.
But he couldn't work that way. Even though they seemed to invite death in this line of work, no one actually wanted to die. In that sense, they were all exactly like the average man on the street.
Except for one point. We're evil men. Yes – evil men.
He couldn't forgive Dallas any more than he could feel compassion or sympathy for Eve. Thinking that he could was just an act of complacency.
-- at the end of the day, it wasn't possible. Even knowing the Dallas' location – it wasn't possible to pull him up out of the river.
They'd sunk Dallas and his friends into the very bottom of the deepest part of the Hudson. It was still possible to attempt to use cranes and lifts to dig them out, but that was definitely beyond Eve's ability to do.
He'd only done that to give the girl a temporary respite. Since he'd told her what she wanted to know, she wouldn't have any more need to interact with people like them, or to hate herself. Dallas would probably just continue to suffer at the bottom of the river.
The situation was in hand. There was really no reason to worry.
Yet Luck couldn't put himself at ease.
If he'd really not wanted to forgive Dallas, then he could've just given her a fake address. Why did he give Eve a chance to save her brother? Why didn't he just lie to her? These thoughts kept bothering Luck.
Claire was right. I'm not suited to this life at all. But now my hands are already too dirty – and defending this territory is both my duty and my life. It's about upholding this family's honour and name. Or, if I put it another way --
It's my entire world.
- or could it be...
He recalled the expression on Eve's face when he'd been fighting Gustavo. The look in her eyes, what she must've felt – it was something that Luck wasn't even capable of anymore. That feeling of throwing one's self forward completely and utterly, of believing so totally.
Could it be – that I'm jealous? Jealous of that girl's innocence, jealous of how intensely she must still be able to feel. I know I can't feel that way myself, anymore – because I no longer have any real consciousness of death. Never again. Not ever again.
With those thoughts in mind, Luck picked up a book, and quietly started to read.
-------------------
Billionaire.
'See you again tomorrow!'
'And next time, Firo should join in!'
Inside the Alveare were a few huge wine barrels. They were dry, and filled to the brim with domino tiles. Sitting on top of them were Isaac and Miria, the two swinging their legs back and forth as they spoke.
'I refuse,' Firo said shortly, sighing as he regarded the both of them. 'But just let me ask - are they really that much fun? You're putting in hours of work for something that gets toppled in less than a minute.'
Isaac grinned like a child and said, 'But it looks fun, doesn't it?'
'… yeah.' Firo had to agree with that. Even though it was still completely stupid, even he had forgotten all about his lunch and stopped to watch when the dominos had started to fall.
'It is fun! When we topple those tiles, we feel happy…'
'And the people who watch are happy, so it's like killing two birds with one stone!'
'We could earn big money from this!'
'We're happy, they're happy, the whole city's happy!'
Watching them, Firo couldn't help but laugh.
-- your lives are like that too, he thought. The both of you are exactly like these dominos. Always moving, always experiencing something different, always pushing down the barriers between between. These two people influence everybody - even people like Ennis and me.
The two of them lived exactly the way they wanted to live, loved to live.
'I get it, I get it. I'll help out next time. If I'm free.'
'Great! Now Firo's a domino companion too!'
'Or a domino man! Which one is better?'
-- tell me, how are those two even different? Firo thought as he put his head in his hands.
If there were just more people like them, the world would be a better place. Until then -- even if there were many who'd be influenced by Isaac and Miria, what a pity that few would ever think of becoming like the two of them.
-- I'm thinking too much.
Firo chuckled at his own absurd reasoning, and ran his fingers through the dominos.
Small question: once this one is done, would anyone be interested in a translation of the sixth novel? It's set in 1933 and follows up on this novel; also contains flashbacks to 1925 (young Luck!). :D I can get on it if you guys want~