01 August 2010

The Ironic Light Orchestra (Chapter 1) [unfinished; updated 3 december]

(Chapter One: Son of a Witch)



(Year 1705, Summer, Lotto Valentino)


Naples is one of the major cities of Italy.

However, at this time, "Italy" is still a peninsula with a different name; Naples started in southern Italy as "Naples Kingdom" during its time of growth, due to the conquest of the Aragon Kingdom, after which passed a series of events. It is now Spain's neighbor territory, and has been ruled by a governor-general sent from that land.

This land governed by him was in the northwest.

The city of Naples's suburban area is located along the coast, which is this area.

Lotto Valentino.

Population of 50,000.

The area is one with many slopes and stone buildings that line the sea. Other places do not have this sort of scenery, and tend to have a more solemn appearance.

There is a defined trade route of Naples that extends through this small town, which is also influenced by the Mediterranean Sea's warm climate, something that helps when it comes to the suburbs' practice of growing fruit.

The Mediterranean Sea tends to be affiliated with the Tyrrhenian Sea now, and still reflects that vivid blue color as a warm breeze gently blows from it through the streets.

As it is now, the townscape of Naples is somewhat of a compact scene; however, that doesn't mean that it is very famous; this is because, with the exception of the comings and goings of traders, it is not a particularly noticed area.

Though, one thing-- this is with the exception of those entering and leaving the "library."


Several libraries have been established in the town of Lotto Valentino.

As merely a small harbor town with under ten percent of Naples's population, the amount of libraries there would even be considered top class in Spain. This area had been borne by the country of Spain for a period of 200 years, and for some reason during this history, each of the noble families, in competition with each other, constructed libraries; the people who live here do not mind this, and simply accept their existence.

Simply, when it comes to the amount of libraries, this area is prime for putting a great deal of effort into learning-- the libraries are filled with a quiet sort of atmosphere.

This library, for one-- has a noticeably large archive here.

Simply named "the third library," the funds for building this library were amassed by the ancestors of a noble from Prussia's northern territory, and several years ago, after Prussia's creation, the family continued to offer their support.

Most people do not know about these details-- at first glance, it simply seems to be a large and plain library, and for that reason, it was used by everyone.

The surrounding area was obstructed by the building; one cannot get to the library archive without passing through the courtyard.

At a glance, it seemed to be an isolated place, but in actuality, many people frequently came and went, something that could not be seen from outside.

Despite their varying appearances, almost all of them were relatively young boys and girls.

These people gathered on the second floor of the library archive.

This area was divided into several rooms-- and "he" was in one of these.


As the library archive's name suggested, it certainly had many books.

On the four walls of the room, excluding the locations of the doors and windows, there were shelves, and books piled everywhere.

However, in the center of the room was a large open space, in which several figures of people could be seen quietly reading.

Seven boys and three girls were in the room, seated around three large tables.

Everyone in the room seemed to be around 15 years of age. Though all of the boys that were reading were facing the desk, there seemed to be an obvious polarization as to where they sat.

On the sides of the large desks facing the entrance and middle of the room, there were four people seated at each-- as for the sides facing the windows, only one person was seated at each.

Furthermore, of the two people sitting at the edges of the desk, the girl was relatively close to everyone. The boy was at a window seat that was quite removed from everyone else.

Though he was separated from everyone, he was still sitting at the same desk as other boys and girls from the class.

The girl had long golden hair, and was looking in the direction of the boy every now and again; the emotion behind that gaze was visible in her expression. However, the boy did not notice the girl staring at him, because, as usual, he was silently absorbed in reading a book.

As the black-haired boy's golden eyes followed the words, without rest, without accident, he continued to turn the pages.

At a continuing pace of turning the page each second, it didn't look like he was reading so much as checking the page for mistakes.

However, it was true that the boy was actually reading all the words, something that all the people in the room knew. Despite the amazing act of speed-reading, no one in the room praised him for this. And he didn't want anyone's praise.

It seemed that there was an obvious distance between this boy and the others; though the boys in the room would sometimes engage in idle chatting, this one would never join in, instead remaining silent and continuing to read, as usual.

Without any change in this situation, time continued to pass.

The sun passed from its position at the top of the sky, and the bright sunlight shone through the window near the boys' table.

“…”

To defend the dark room from the harsh rays of the sunlight, one of the boys closed the wooden window covers.

That portion of the room became dark, especially near the boys' table, but despite this, that boy's reading was not affected.

The melancholy-looking boy was inside the area where the shadow fell, but he didn't move elsewhere, and ignoring the suddenly gloomy environment, continued to turn the pages.

As if acting in agreement with this action, with a creaking noise, the door to the room opened, and an adult entered.

"Alri~ght, everyone, good morni.....aaaaaah!?"

The way her foot got caught could either be considered very impressive or very clumsy, and with a shout, that adult— that glasses-wearing, glamorous woman— was lying on the floor.

“Are you okay, Miss Renee?”

The boy sitting nearest the entrance called out to her, not looking particularly surprised.

The other people in the room also referred to her with a sense of familiarity, but the woman named Renee didn't seem to be troubled by this.

At that time, the boy sitting, isolated, by the window did not even glance in her direction, still reading at the same pace.

"Ow, ow, ow...isn't this an interesting result? To be able to trip myself up like that, I mean. I wonder if Paracelsus or Faust would have even been aware of the fact that it could happen?"

Hiding her embarrassment, the glasses-wearing woman rapidly muttered about that matter while standing up again, and, as if nothing had happened, began walking towards the center of the room—

Her smiling face held a hint of innocence, and the glasses-wearing woman raised her voice.

Cheerfully, cheerfully.

"Well then, today's lecture will now begin!"


This library archive was, so to speak, only part of the place referred to as the "private school."

In this town, though not a lot of effort was generally put into studying, the schools in general had various types of children who were able to learn there, from nobles to common people.

However-- at the library archive, the children who gathered were there for certain reasons, reasons for which they would not attend the regular schools

The reasons varied among the students, but they all had something in common, which was "learning" something, that could be said to be for greed.

The library archive's lecturers did not make these lessons mandatory. However, this kind of knowledge and wisdom, or perhaps, this art, required something that could not be gained by attendance at the official schools, and for that reason, this school was opened.

As for why such lectures were hidden in the library archive room, there were two reasons.

For one, they could not receive public training largely because it would become detrimental if they wanted to continue living in the town. If their identities became exposed, these lessons would be banished from the town, as well as the children learning. To the youths, who were from various other countries, this was clearly understandable; they were committing a crime, and so, they had to keep it a secret.

And so, another.

The greatest reason that this private school hesitated to open itself to the public.

There is a certain reason for the boys and girls to use these tactics; this "private school" taught something that other schools did not include in their lessons.


Alchemy.


That is, an old teaching.

That is, a relic of the times.

That is, the possibility of evolution.

That is, splendid deception.

That is, a transient dream.

That is, imitations that baffled humanity.

That is, the potential of science.

That is, dreamlike myths.

That is, faith.

That is, heresy.

The product of desire.

The devil’s art.

Alchemy is something that many people hold prejudice against.

――Alchemy.

The studies of which originated in Ancient Egypt, its existence came into being along with civilization.

These people were called alchemists, people about whom various legends came into being.

Incidentally, the name was taken from the fact that they wished to make gold from base metals; also, at a certain time, they wished to create life, independent from the gods; in the end, they pursued eternal life.

However, their wish was, in the end, for something nonexistent. For the purpose of that impossible thing, they worked every day; if it happened that it came true, it would be something "possible."

In truth, that had already faded, and a new ultimate wish started. Naturally, in reality, from the beginning, that "ultimate," to create gold, seemed unreasonable.

They made it their goal to make that impossible dream come true, this wish coming about because of their desire for knowledge, or possibly because of their sense of duty.

Already, at this period in time, the alchemists were already facing difficulties because of those surrounding them, and though at times they were popular and looked upon with envy, various arts that were being pursued were also suffering discouragement.

However, this act was by no means futile.

At the same time, the alchemist, Sir Isaac Newton, discovered universal gravitation, and other alchemists began making contributions to modern science as well. Alchemy was, by no means, a phony system of science.

Many religions denied alchemy, persecuting it, so an "art" was born and it spread throughout the world.

However, at times-- the cause of this persecution, things like black magic and the divine arts, as they were called, there was a line between these and science which created a great distance between the two for those who dabbled in these.

Typically, alchemy and black magic were seen in the same light; however, essentially, they were truly different.

Among some of the alchemists, such black magic and prayers were seen as "unscientific reliance upon others" and futile; still, there were certainly some who positively reached out to those who used such methods.

When it came to black magic and demons and the like, if their existence could be verified as "a possible thing," that would become a tool with which the deadlock of alchemy's "impossibility" could be broken.

Naturally, this private school taught everything from classical alchemy to the latest theories, an extremely wide range of teachings. At other schools, much of the time was devoted to general studies, while at others, the fine arts teachers took initiative for instructing students.

Nonetheless, this land was ruled by Spain, and the Catholic Church was the cornerstone of the country, so even if it was just sometimes, teaching children alchemy was an act that was not very welcomed.

And so, a portion of the alchemists mutually kept in contact, and for "certain reasons," gathered children, raising the next generations in a consistent flow; this private school was established for this, as well.

Originally, this library was donated by a Prussian feudal lord who seemed to tolerate alchemy; knowing about these circumstances, the aid still continued.

Among the children residing in the library archive, many of them were there as library assistants, so that their constant presence did not seem unusual.


Inside that room, that woman called Renee was someone who specialized in teaching both alchemy and history, and met with her pupils every day.

"Let me see, well then, today we're talking about the new theories brought about by the invention of aqua regia...yesterday, Jabir ibn Hayyan was our topic of discussion, yes?"

Already, Renee's spirit had recovered from her amazing fall, and she spoke in front of the class with dignity—

One of the male pupils, frowning, was looking at her.

"How should I put it, Miss, we did that lesson yesterday."

"Whaaaaaat!?"

"Today, our talk was concerning the transformation of amalgams into gold and silver..."

"H-huh? Now that you mention it, that's...true.”

Behind her glasses, the teacher's eyes swam with tears, and some of the students, shocked, gave a strained laugh.

They looked at her with some anxiety; the children's opinions of her was by no means a bad one; because of her glamorous body, she was the most popular lecturer among the boys.

There was only one exception, the boy who seemed to have entirely no interest in this and had continued reading.

Renee, while sitting down near the central desk, looked over the room restlessly, and saw the boy at the window who had said this in a rather carefree tone.

"Well then, Huey? Will you please stop reading for just a moment?"

In response to those words, the boy called Huey quietly opened his mouth to speak.

Where he was looking, and his actions; nothing changed; simply, while continuing to turn the pages of the book, he spoke.

"It's fine, Miss. I can perfectly hear the lessons."

"If that's the case, it's fine!"

Renee clapped her hands together, and as if nothing had happened, continued her lesson; clicking his tongue, the boy completely returned his attention to his book.


Huey Laforet.

This boy, who was turning fifteen tomorrow, among all the rest of the merry children, he was notably isolated.

When talking to people, he would reply with a thin smile, and from him, many would say that it seemed empty.

One could see that he blatantly refused relations with others, and so, because of his nature, the opportunity for him to be greeted by others decreased.

While in class-- save for the composed attitude with which he would always read-- at a glance, he had the impression of a good honors student; this, coupled with his appearance, meant that he was never unpopular with the girls in his class.

The only other person that sat at the same desk was a girl, and as the boy read as usual, she would watch him with a sidelong glance, every now and again.

Having naturally chosen such isolation, he even did the minimum work in classes-- thinking things like 'ah, I already know this,' ignoring the lessons and concentrating on reading.

"...In short, because of Mr. Guericke's discovery of repulsive force, stemming from this amber, a secret kind of energy comes out; repulsive force and magnetic force come together simultaneously to make this happen. Is your heart beating a little quickly? If we were able to freely control this energy, the world would change on a large scale. The steam-utilizing Savery engine, as well; I wonder which of the two would really gain control of the world first. It's interesting, isn't it..."

'Today, weren't we supposed to be talking about working with amalgams?'

Though he noticed the strange but quickly-flowing derailment of the lesson, Huey didn't correct her.

'Well, at any rate, it's already in my mind.'

As if in a daze, most other people would have simply listened to Renee's lecture, not noticing the absurdity of the material being taught.

However, as far as Huey was concerned, he had no connection with the way the other boys were, and he simply continued to read, the words engraving themselves in his mind. Though he was engrossed in the book, it didn't seem like it was something enjoyable; one could get the impression that he was merely driving this information into his head out of some sort of duty-- moreover, with the exclusion of that young girl who was watching him, not a single person seemed to notice.

And then, though it seemed that the class would continue as normal on this day—

Immediately following the end of the lecture, Renee seemed to remember something, and raised her voice again.

“Oh no! I forgot!”

In reaction to that loud voice, the students inside the room simultaneously turned towards her. At that moment, Huey also looked away from his book, quickly turning his concentration to the teacher.

"Friends! That's right! Tomorrow, there'll be a new friend for everyone!"

In response to Renee's joyful words, the boys and girls in the room looked excited.

Because of the precise nature of the school, it was rare that new people would join them. Because there were already 30 students studying in that special room, something like a new person would create completely new connections.
In a sense, it was something that would be wished for by everyone, that should not have been wished for.

"Well, that's right, that is the case! Tomorrow, a new student is coming here; everyone, it'd be no good to not get along, right?"

'What; something like that.'

Quickly losing interest, Huey returned his gaze to the book.

When it came to the wall that he'd built, the addition of a new person would probably have nothing to do with it.

As usual, if he was spoken to, a forced smile would be his reply, and this new person wouldn't be any exception to that. That much was true.

Therefore, his attention to the subject at hand was only as much necessary—

"Huey, could you please help me with something?"

When he heard Renee's voice and noticed the fact that she was looking at him, his hand, which was in the middle of turning the page, stopped.

"...why, me?"

Wearing as mild an expression as possible, Huey asked her this.

However, Renee, reading the atmosphere, replied, overflowing with self-confidence.

"Well, Huey is very similar to this boy! Surely you can make friends with him?"

With a chuckle, Renee smiled childishly while saying this; Huey thought over it for a short while.

'Similar to me?'

'How? In appearance? In personality?'

On the other hand from Huey's pondering, from a while ago in the other direction, the girl with the blonde hair seemed to be lost in thought, still staring at him as he remained silent.

While not noticing the existence of the young girl-- taking the boy's silence as a positive answer, Renee rolled up a piece of parchment in her hand and,

"Well, then, please look forward to tomorrow!"

And, wearing an happy expression, she left the room.

“Ah…”

Huey tried to ask something, but before he got the chance, Renee had already left the room.

Though he hoped he could hear a more accurate reason, as before, his eyes returned to the book, not particularly bothering with what was said.

‘Is that so. Even if we weren’t that much alike, I don’t really care about it.’


'Even if I could be compared to that other person, I...can't do anything about that.'





(Evening, local food marketplace)


With class having finished, Huey was walking home with several unread books tucked under his arm.

A fresh breeze was blowing through the street, and the clear blue sky peeked out from between the buildings of white stone.

Through the cooperation of the library, he currently lived at the storehouse of a trader. That trader was not related to him by blood, but instead, their relationship was more like that of an adoptive family's. By way of his personal boat, he traveled abroad, and was only in town for three or four days out of the year; as such, neither of them really remembered what the other looked like.

For the time being, "managing the storehouse" seemed to be how he received living expenses, but it was really part of an agreement with the library's alchemists. However, Huey also understood that it didn't mean he was particularly cared about. With the exception of his personal effects, the storehouse was empty, so there wasn't much to manage. Early on, he disliked the fact that he was treated with pity; though one may have simply accepted that, he intended not to, believing that he had no reason for being treated in such a way. And yet, he felt that it would have been foolish to feel anger over what was, essentially, a formal contract.

For that reason, Huey quietly accepted the way things were.


‘This world is, worthless.’

That was Huey's conclusion.

Though many adolescents seemed to pass through that way of thinking at some time or another, in Huey's case, he took it a step further, arriving at this warped way of thinking.

‘It's worthless, and I have no place here.’

He hated the world.

Even including himself; anything and everything about it.

‘To say nothing of myself, no one has any place here.’

There was no fury to these thoughts; he calmly, calculatingly, hated the world, as well as himself.

If he'd seen the world as nothing more than a dream that he was having, he would have been able to hold such beliefs that once he died, he would completely disappear, and so he would not have hesitated to commit suicide.

‘This world is kind to no one.’

This warped conclusion brought up thoughts of another, a belief that slowly began to eat into his mind.

‘It's useless, and yet...why is it...so horrible?’

If he thought about it, it would only cause him to think more on this unfortunate conclusion.

Furthermore, when he considered his own death, he knew that after he died, the world would continue to go unchanged; therefore, that choice was immediately eliminated.

He did not despair because of the world, but simply, hated it.

However, Huey didn't think that he would be able to do anything about it.

‘I am, powerless.’

And yet, after that conclusion, more would always follow.

‘Still, not yet.’

‘Still...it's still not enough.’

'Knowledge and wisdom and experience and power and money and influence...'

‘I don't have enough.’

‘When there is, then that's it.’

‘I'll show them myself, everything everything everything will be completely crushed.’

‘I'll make everyone feel the same pain and despair as my own—‘

"Oh, here's your change."

"Right...thank you very much."

The old woman's voice broke into his thoughts, and without faltering, Huey smiled back at her.

While his mind was occupied with those childish, yet dangerous thoughts— as if those plans belonged to another mind completely-- he'd continued shopping in the town marketplace.

As was often the case, his expression reflected not even the slightest bit of what he was thinking, and so the old woman, thinking him to be a rather polite child, had, without him noticing, given him an added bonus.

Though Huey did truly notice that she'd done this, he pretended that he hadn't seen anything, and left the shop.

The next time he came here, he would thank her, though the fact that he had to speak so humbly to others bothered him somewhat.

And so, as his mind once again filled with those dangerous thoughts, he pushed his way through the crowd of people at the marketplace to get to the next store.

Because he didn't make use of the storehouse by renting it out, it could be said that Huey was somewhat of a freeloader, though with no family, he ended up taking care of all of the miscellaneous matters there by himself.

And, once he'd finished shopping for food, on his way back, he purchased the ingredients from the daily lesson.

Though it was small, it was still a trading town. Lotto Valentino's town market was full of a great variety of items, and from the street, a wonderful kind of energy was practically visible.

The colors of people's skin and hair were all different; it was known that those of many races came here, though some foreigners were clearly not present, such as those from Asia or Africa. Originally, Italy was a place where there were many races mingling together: Romans and Celts, Greeks, Arabs, Germans, Phoenicians, and those from many other lands, all jumbled together.

However, by no means could one say that all of these people were equals; Spain's rule, and the strict feudal system that had been in place for the past two centuries had caused this present state of things.

The energy of the town marketplace, though, was such a reality that something like that could be left behind for the time being.

Throughout the whole town, goods were being transported; horses and cows were continuously coming and going, and many mountains of items for trade also moved through the streets.

While Huey watched these people, he once again became a captive to his dark thoughts.

‘That’s right. People are equal.’

‘White people and black people. There aren't any differences. People are all the same.’

‘Their true nature is the same. Even now, those Spanish nobles rule this place as if they owned it.’

‘In the end, their differences are only superficial, nothing more than what's on the surface.’

‘So, they’re all worthless.’

‘Me, the people on this street, people in distant lands, the person following me—‘

‘All the same. Nothing changes. If a wind were to blow, they'd just float away like trash.’

‘Ah, if only I had the power to cause that... right now, to blow away this world!’

In a sense, he truly did seem like a fourteen-year-old while thinking that; Huey tsked softly to himself.

Then, he slowly began to climb the slope of a back alley, and only after making sure that there was no one else around, turned around and said:

"...so, what do you want, Monica?"


He'd already turned around, and was now looking at the young girl whose blonde hair fluttered in the wind.

"Wh-what? How did you know?"

"It was easy. Your hair stands out, and I kept seeing it in the corner of my vision."

The facial expression that Huey wore was not an indifferent one, as he'd worn when speaking to Renee, but rather the kind of smile that gave a gentle impression.

Monica Campanella.

The girl who, in the classroom, had been staring at Huey; and now, surprisingly, she was this close to him, by herself.

That closeness was practically a tangible thing—

"About that answer, from the other time...I'd like a little more time to consider it."

"Eh? Ah, yes! E-e-e-even if I have to wait forever, it's fine! Really! I don't mind at all...i-i-it's f-f-f..."

Her cheeks were colored a bright pink, and she'd started trembling; Huey's attitude, on the other hand, hadn't changed at all.

"I'm sorry. It was the first time I'd received any sort of confession, so that's why."

Huey quickly spoke these words, and the girl let out a small shriek in response.

"S-s-s-so that's it! Th-th-there isn't anyone who's asked...!"

Already, that shade of pink that tinted her cheeks had become a deep red color, though Huey continued on in the same disinterested tone.

"It's fine. Except for us, there's no one here."

"Th-that's true, isn’t it..."

Monica's eyes seemed to be spinning, but she quickly came to her senses, shifting her focus to the current situation.

"That's right! It's dangerous over here, isn't it? Recently, there've been a few dangerous people...the "Mask Maker" and the "Bad Eggs" group!"

"Ah...is that so?"

And so, nodding, Huey slowly began to return to the town center.

The "Mask Maker" was a recent subject of talk in the town, because of the horrible murders they were committing.

However, the fact that the mask was used made such happenings difficult to understand; the witness accounts were also rather suspicious, to an extent, and so Huey doubted their validity.

According to the newspapers, these happenings usually took place in locked rooms, with no evidence left behind, so that it seemed like nothing should have happened; the fact that the faces of the victims were covered with those masks was especially impractical. In the first place, if one wanted to cover the face of their victim, doing something such as wrapping a dark cloth around it would have been much more effective.

Or maybe it was the sort of killer who took pleasure in their crimes, Huey thought, and let out a quiet sigh.

On the other hand, there were the "Bad Eggs," a juvenile delinquent group who, ever since the town's public order, which they seemed to consider wrong, was invoked, had been appearing at random.

There'd been young men without jobs there for quite some time, but for the past several years, the adults without jobs were able to search for work in the army, leaving the younger men behind to end up delinquents. Over the past few years, they'd formed a vicious group of sorts, referred to as the "Bad Eggs," among other things, and stole and blackmailed. They even attacked traders and their ships during the night, much like pirates.

Though the people of town thought very little of them, the truth was that they had yet to do anything truly damaging, so nothing had been done to get rid of them, and the arrests of individual perpetrators had ceased.

The name of "Bad Eggs" seemed to be a rather self-deprecating one at any rate, Huey thought, but decided against questioning it any further. As far as that was concerned, it suited them well enough.

Either way, any ordinary person would probably feel as though the alleyways weren't very pleasant places.

Huey only seemed to be taking into consideration what she was saying as they returned to town.

For the time being, Monica seemed to be working at a baker's place as a maid, and would only show up at the school after she'd finished the morning preparations there.

For a girl of only 14, it was rather difficult work, and she still managed to care for the other students from the classroom, such as when she brought sfogliatelle (a shell-shaped pastry; a famous product of Naples) for all of her classmates. However, she had to steal them from the shop, though when she came in the next day with no sign of bruises or scratches, it seemed that nothing had happened, so everyone was relieved. From the start, everyone except Huey seemed to be interested in talking to her.


Her abrupt confession to Huey only took place five days ago.

"W-w-w-w-well, um, please go out with me-- I-I-I like you, so, is it fine?"

Due to the way she was speaking, it was hard to understand what she'd said, but he was able to understand enough that it seemed like she'd confessed to him. Because it sounded slightly suspicious to Huey, he looked a bit troubled for a moment, but then-- "I'll think about it," he'd replied quickly.

For a few seconds after, he wondered about this— 'How does she even mean that she likes me?'— but shortly after, decided that it may not have been a bad thing, and then, as usual, returned his attention to his book.


From then on, Huey simply recognized her as "eccentric," at least putting her on the same level as the lecturers, Renee and Dalton.

Though as far as the fact of him hating the world went, there was still no change.

Even now, the girl walking with him was no more than the smallest particle, as far as he was aware; 'those masked homicides must take some kind of skill that surpasses our own, right?’ and other trivial things were what he continued to think about.


Certainly, the boy named Huey detested the world and everyone on it.

Still, humans had continued to survive, in great quantities, throughout the ages.

He kept those gloomy thoughts to himself while among everyone else, and so it seemed that Huey generally lived a happy life.

If one thought about it, as things were with Monica and her feelings, that in itself would have normally been enough to allow someone to choose the path of a life of happiness with ease.

Huey was well aware of that fact.

But, he did not choose that path.

Though he perfectly understood this fact, he continued refusing to walk that path.

That was the way of life of the boy named Huey Laforet.


Forcing an insincere smile, easily giving a deceitful answer to Monica's confession, he walked that path, as usual.

And so, things continued on as they normally did.

Until that day came.

'For now, it's fine. Now, even if I don't fully understand, it's fine.'

While thinking this, Huey silently continued walking home, but—

Earlier, Renee had talked about a new student joining them, and much like that announcement, the scene in his field of vision was "different from usual."

It seemed slightly as if the crowds they walked through were more numerous than usual, and a great deal of noise could be heard.


At first, all that could be seen had, with a great commotion, rolled into the center of the town street; the figure of a girl.

She looked to be about the same age as Huey and Monica, maybe a bit older.

She had natural chestnut-brown hair, and wasn’t on the ground for long; a group of boys came up to her from behind, grabbing her by the nape of her neck.

"Hey, get up."

The boys looked to be delinquents; three of them, pulling the girl along, seemingly kidnapping her away to somewhere.

Although the people around looked doubtfully at this scene, no one would help the girl.

Maybe they were members of the "Bad Eggs," or simply just random delinquents. Either way, if they were not going to receive any sort of punishment from God as this happened, everyone else should simply keep their words to themselves; closing their eyes, closing their mouths, covering their ears.

And now-- as far as Huey was concerned, he should do the same.

"...let's go."

"Eh?"

In response to Huey's expressionless mutter, Monica unintentionally raised her voice.

For a moment, she didn't know whether he meant 'let's go help her' or 'let's leave this place.' But when Huey turned away from the tumult of what was happening before them, she finally understood.

As for Huey, he wasn't afraid of those young men, but instead, from the bottom of his heart, had no interest in them; rather, he felt that to do anything would be a foolish waste of time.

Besides, if he made it seem as though he was going to try to escape, Monica may not have been disillusioned and raised her voice like that.

Of course, Huey's overly-optimistic belief was quickly crushed, so they should have left as quickly as they could—

"Hey, hold up. You there, boy."

Trouble seemed to be heading their way, forcibly yanking his consciousness back to what was happening.

"Looks like you're leaving behind that girl you're with, huh? You're a pretty cold guy, huh? Well?"

"She's real pretty, though, huh?"

'Ah, I see.'

Though he didn't understand why he'd suddenly been grouped in with her for this, he then became aware of the way that the young men were staring at Monica, and quickly grasped the situation.

'As I thought, it's never good when other people get involved.'

He sighed, and considered forgetting about Monica and leaving, himself, but he figured that would cause his situation at the private school to become rather poor. If he were to be accused of causing a problem like that, he wouldn’t just be isolated, but the students would become hostile towards him.

In the first place, they knew of Monica's situation, which wasn't a very good one (because they went to the same private school, that sort of situation, which would naturally make people feel a bit bad for her, was clear); also, he had almost completed his lessons there. Even though the other students there weren't worth thinking about, he wanted to avoid a situation where he would have been unable to obtain the knowledge he needed.

He thought about grabbing Monica by the arm so that both of them could escape, but one of the delinquent boys had already almost reached them, so that now, even if he did choose to escape, he would have been easily caught up to, and so it would have been futile.

Frowning slightly, Huey slowly turned to face the other boys.

'Damn... as I thought, this world really is unkind.'

"Oh, he's determined, huh? This guy."

'For me, as well.'

As usual, the people around them looked as though what was happening was of no concern to them, though Monica looked nervous, now that they couldn't get away.

'Same for that brown-haired girl.'

The girl with the chestnut-brown hair had been caught by one of the delinquents, who was holding her by her hair, so that she, too, was unable to escape.

"What's that rebellious look, huh?"

The hoodlum made to strike at him; Huey once again breathed a sigh—

'And it's the same for these guys.'

And at the same time, started to move.


"Huh?"

In that instant, Huey started to move, and in that instant, the boys were taken aback—

In the next instant, the delinquent felt a sharp pain in his eyes.

Still looking completely disinterested, and without faltering at all, Huey thrust outward with his thumb and index finger, stabbing that thug in both eyes.

"Gaaaah!?"

Huey didn't have the strength to actually gouge his opponent’s eyes out, but his eyesight was gone for close to ten minutes after.

Taking the opportunity he had while his opponent was still in shock, Huey kicked upwards with all his strength between the other man's legs.

"----------!"

He was unable to voice the pain he felt, and all he could do was collapse forward.

And then, still with that same lack of expression, Huey grabbed the man by the neck.

Slowly, surely.

Then, strongly grasping the his opponent's neck, he made to crush the man's Adam's apple.

“…! …!”

Not only was the delinquent's voice cut off as a result of this, but his breathing was, as well.

To watch this chain of events-- this scene felt overwhelming, far too overwhelming.

Monica was a short distance away, and as if the lines between bad and good here were clear, was simply watching Huey's violence.

But-- to Huey, himself, the world was never good.

That sort of beginning came completely as a surprise. After that, the other two hoodlums advanced on them, pulling Huey away from their ally.

"You bastard! Die!"

"Guh...!"

As this was being said, the thugs came forward, kicking him, and he clumsily fell to the ground.

Huey didn't have much fighting strength, but at the same time, had no mercy or hesitation. Because of this, he was able to overturn that one-against-many situation, even though he was in possession of neither fighting skills nor any kind of special technique.

And so— with his lack of mercy and hesitation, he was able to change the course of the fight.

It still seemed that the rest of the surrounding people continued to ignore what was going on, still believing it was of no concern to them.

Although many people were coming and going, they only kept up a pretense of not seeing what was happening and simply averting their eyes, and it was very effective.

It was a strange scene, but Huey couldn't say anything about it because he understood that way of thinking. But, instead of saying nothing—

Huey meant to forcibly involve those people.

After he'd fallen, he attempted to search for something nearby, and as his hand moved, trying to find it, his attention shifted to a nearby potted plant.

Naturally, he grabbed that potted plant, and forced himself to get up, ignoring the pain, in order to throw it with all of his strength.

"Hey, watch out!"

"Take this, you idiot!"

The thugs thought that was his last stand, and smiled unpleasantly, slowly shuffling up to him.

And then, from behind, they heard the furious neigh of a horse.

"Ah?"

"Huh?"

With the exception of the delinquent that was already in the ground, moaning in pain, that neighing sound caused them to reflexively stop moving, and naturally, they turned to look behind them.

And then, what was there—

When he had grabbed the pot, tossing aside the dirt in it, some cattle had become restless, and had broke into a run, as if searching for who'd done that.

And of course, they were all pulling carts.


After that, the marketplace fell into a bit of a panic.

Because the cattle suddenly became violent, the crowd of people began rushing around frantically.

If they continued like this, the high piles of trade goods would end up unsteadily swaying. And if those piles fell onto the heads of the crowd below, there was no way this could finish without injuries.

And yet, there was an upside to the way that the horses and cows were now all acting; the crowd now no longer felt that this wasn't for them to deal with.

Everyone was now rushing around the marketplace, and everyone was pushing others and being pushed.

Those delinquents were also caught up in the waves of people, as the wagons rolled through that scene of panic.

Huey managed to endure the pain from the blow he'd taken, and stood, looking over the scene of panic before him. He began weaving through the crowd, trying to look for Monica.

And there, he managed to catch sight of her blonde hair, which stood out among everyone else; she was pulling on the chestnut-haired girl's hand to help her escape.

While calmly making his way through the chaos, Huey silently followed them.

The hoodlums that he'd gotten involved with had already been swallowed by the crowd, and they couldn't be seen any longer.

If they hadn't been trampled underfoot by the people and horses, it would seem they'd already escaped.

Just in case, Huey took caution to avoid the main streets, dashing into an alleyway, and he found that Monica and that girl were already there.


"A-ah, Huey! You're safe? Are you alright!?"

He affirmed that the person over here, whom he'd hastily rushed up to, was indeed Monica.

Next to her was the figure of the chestnut-haired girl they'd rescued, who stood there with a gloomy expression and her gaze fixated on the ground.

"Yeah, even though they'd kicked me with all of their strength, it seems they didn't break any bones. ...what about you?"

He asked this of the girl with the chestnut-colored hair, who quietly shook her head in response, not even trying to meet Huey and Monica's eyes.

"I'm...fine. ...sorry."

"Really? If that's the case, it's good, but...oh, what kind of people would do that!"

Already, Monica was expressing her anger about those thugs.

However, across from Monica, the girl continued speaking in that voice that sounded as though it was about to disappear, still hanging her head.

"Thank you... But, really, you shouldn't have bothered with me."

"Eh?"

Monica suddenly shifted her attention to what the other girl was saying, in that expressionless murmur of hers.

"Soon...I'm going to be killed."

"!?"

"If you stay with me...you, too, will be killed."

"By those delinquents?"

Huey's interest was captured by this disturbed way of speaking, as he, surprisingly, cut into the ongoing conversation.

"By the Mask Maker, who will steal my face and kill me."

'Mask Maker?'

The name of the suspect in the serial murders, for some reason, had come forth.

Already, she'd said that those hoodlums had no connection with this, but instead, that it was only one person.

The girl continued speaking indifferently, in response to their doubt.

"I should die very soon. I will be killed."

And then, her breathing stopped for a moment, and as if she'd remembered something, trembling—

"Even though...I only saw that mask by accident..."

"Ah..."

Monica seemed as though she wanted to ask something for a moment, but suddenly, from the other side of the alley, a violent shout resounded.

"Niki! What are you doing in such a disgusting place!"

The three of them turned around, and there was a stout, fat, bald man, who, in addition to those peculiarities, was wearing a uniform, and drawing a lot of attention.

"...the town police?"

Monica muttered doubtfully.

The town police were, in this small town, something of a vigilance committee, working to maintain the public order. They differed from the Spanish royal family's military police, because they were originally composed of people from this town.

The main difference between this town of Lotto Valentino and the other towns in the area was, to some extent, a hidden symbol of this city; in this situation, the people saw the military police, the regular police, and the vigilant corps as having no great distinction from each other.

The bald-headed man, himself, was not part of the city police, and as he pointed at Huey and Monica, he raised his voice to the policemen behind him.

"It's them, it's those guys. They were the ones who tried to run off with the employee of my workshop!"

"Eh?"

“…”

At this sudden false accusation, Monica let out a surprised cry, while Huey remained silent and expressionless.

The policemen began to advance on them, but the girl that the bald man had referred to as Niki raised her voice in a shout.

"Please wait! These people are--"

"Be quiet!"

Unfortunately, she was unable to defend them.

The bald man clenched his fists, and then struck her in the face with all of his strength.

As if her body were like a small chip of wood flying through the air, she was thrown into the wall of the narrow alley.

"Aaah!"

Seeing this, Monica shrieked, but the policemen ignored what was happening.

"Keep quiet."

Without looking behind them, the officers silently pinned the two down.

During this, the bald man was kicking Niki's fallen body as hard as he could.

"You, I was going to get enough money to cover the fees of three people, but when it came down to it, you tried to run away, and thanks to you, I've been completely disgraced! How are you gonna repay me? Huh?"

“…”

The girl called Niki was silent, even as the bald man continued kicking her.

Without particularly resisting, Huey listened to what was being said.

"Kid...do you understand just who it was that you've harmed by doing this?"

“…”

As he continued to do and say nothing, the officers mercilessly beat Huey in the back of the head.

In the end, though he didn't mention those thugs, he did have one specific belief regarding them.

Perhaps, they were of Spanish descent, of relation to the noble class.

Back then, the man that seemed to be the owner of the girl with the chestnut-colored hair had said something, which had caused him to guess this—

As Huey was being taken away, he muttered to himself, in a near-inaudible voice.

Like the center of a candle's flickering flame, the air grew hotter, as if boiling.


"Society today is absolutely sickening."





(Within the city, northeastern part)


Due to its distance from the sea, the town of Lotto Valentino was on a swiftly-rising slope.

From the sea, one could see the stately mansions where the nobles sent from Spain lived, at the height of small mountains.

The largest among these, a mansion that had been built here, was naturally quite ostentatious.

Though it had only been built recently, it already seemed quite intimidating when compared to the lower part of town. With that much extravagance created by some unknown person, it certainly seemed to be some kind of a palace.

The Spanish rule over the southern part of Italy by no means meant that the area was economically prosperous. The people of Naples and other areas, having to deal with the limits of the feudal system, had rebelled against this multiple times.

However, the nobles who lived in these stately mansions did not feel the effects of these hard times.

Among them, this particular mansion had a certain kind of impressiveness about it, which affected the rest of the town.

The color white seemed to be the core of the design here, and at a sloped gate that wasn't particularly large was a beautifully-landscaped garden, harmonizing with the rest of the scenery, causing people to be overwhelmed twice-over.

Petals and blossoms completely covered the garden area of this white fortress.

On the grounds were several employees of the house working to make food, and their friendly-seeming activity also served to make it seem more favorable.


There, on the second floor of the mansion.

In the doorway of the balcony stood a man, who spoke to the person busying himself with some strange task before him.

"U-um...my lord."

“…”

Though the man in the uniform of the town police had called out to him, addressing him as "my lord," he continued staring at the flowers in the balcony's planters, grumbling something under his breath as he knelt there.

"My lord?"

The second time he was addressed, the man noticed this, and slowly stood up.

"Hm? Ah. You're here. It's good that you came. Yes, it really is. Thank you."

This man was definitely dressed in the clothes of a “count.”

He did not even seem to be in his mid-twenties yet. His clothing was formal and French in design, atop his head was some kind of exceedingly showy jeweled ornamentation, and on the back of his clothing was a large character of some foreign language.

For someone who understood that language, they would have known that the character was the one for "fire." However, those that did not know would simply see it as a simple flowing pattern of sorts.

He wore an unusual noble's wig on his head, similar to the kind that had become popular among European nobility, though he didn't wear the same clothes, or have the same type of beauty marks. Instead, he wore a showy tri-corner hat and under his wide, owlish eyes, instead of creating the beauty marks, he'd drawn small stars in ink.

The area beneath his eyes was bordered with some sort of shadow, drawn there on purpose to make it seem as though he was lacking in sleep, though no one could say why this man, though smiling, had done that. His face was somehow childish, almost like a wood-carved puppet.

If he were to get rid of the makeup, his looks would have been able to be seen much better, but just why he chose to look like that, no one knew.

As the man in the black uniform—the town police's chief—thought about this, the "count," with a large smile, cracked his neck audibly.

"Calling me something like "my lord" is too formal, you don't need to do that. Use something easier, like Espe, or Boro. Or, do we have the kind of relationship of two people fighting for the affection of a woman, instead?"

Facing the smiling nobleman who had just said all of this, the police chief timidly began to ask:

"Uh...isn't this the first time my lord and I have met?"

At that, the count's eyes widened even more, staring motionlessly at the police chief—

"Hm? Ah, is that true, is that really true? Yes, it really is. I hadn't remembered...you weren't tricking me, were you?"

"Wh-what!? Don’t be absurd!"

"I was joking, just joking. It was just a joke. Calm down. It's hard to tell whether I was being insulting or not, but I didn't mean any ill will by it. You can pay me back for the insult, but since it was a joke, smile. Yeah, that's easy to understand. That's good. If the world has more jokes, it'd be good. I know it'd be good for me."

While muttering these odd words, the man called the "count" continued to wander around the plants in their pots.

"Um...my lord, may I ask what it is you're doing?"

"Ladybugs."

"L-ladybugs, you say?"

"Mhm, the ladybugs stay on the plants here; the potted plants are really wonderfully beautiful, I think. But it's difficult. When it comes to developing a bond with these insects, I still have a lot more studying to do."

As he continued to mutter stranger and stranger things, he continued his disinterested-seeming observation of the ladybugs.

Before long, the ladybugs flew from the planters, and once they were seen off with some disappointment, the atmosphere surrounding the count quickly changed.

He seemed taller, his voice somehow colder, and asked of the man before him, whom he was meeting for the first time:

"So, who are you?"

"Ah, I-i was late introducing myself! I'm the city's new chief of police, and had hoped for my lord's support. My name is Ralph Hancletia."

Following Ralph's respectful introduction on bended knee, the "count" let out a short breath, and began speaking in a smart tone.

"Is that so...that's right. Of course, the previous chief took the blame for the corruption scandal...he suddenly lost his mind over all that money— well, that investigation has been left to the rest of you. Ah, don't be so formal. After all, my title is only decoration. If there are no vessels of the king, no one can be used in a military sense. From the start, I was going to give you that support, because I, in particular, haven't been asked for anything yet. But, you mustn’t forget to perform your professional duties."

In a different situation, his smile would have seemed to be somewhat self-deriding, but the chief of police's inner thoughts trembled as he bowed once again.

How surprising, saying that so directly...

Despite that clearly-strange outward appearance during their conversation just now, he couldn't help but doubt whether or not the man was truly an eccentric.

That is, the unexpected and direct thing he'd spoken of.

The truth was, on the other hand, it was terrifying.


Esperança Boroñal.

Part of the Spanish dynasty controlling the area of Naples, he was a noble holding the title of "Count."

As the young noble in control of this small town, his uniqueness had caused him to be called "Count Oddball," something he'd accepted happily. Though this area would have normally been under the control of the Governor of Naples, there were special circumstances, allowing the Count to have special control. Rumor had it that due to the Boroñal family's trouble back home with getting rid of some sort of nuisance, they'd been sent here.

Or, at least, so Ralph had heard.

Tying together his many traits, he seemed to be an ordinary show-off, but that was only on the surface. Beneath that strange appearance, he had all the traits of a noble. What happened was like an optical illusion crashing down.

Perhaps that appearance was some kind of camouflage; if people had tried to approach him, thinking they could easily get information from him, they would not have expected to be caught in such a trap.

And while he spoke, his eyes were wide open without moving, and the change in his expression had come from little more than a small movement of his mouth.

Though his speech was mild one moment, in the next, it was as humorless as a sword being unsheathed. That man had, before his eyes, created a completely unbelievable feeling of tension.

"By the way..."

Straining to see through the chief's attitude, the count shook his head quietly.

"As usual, that mask guy hasn't been caught yet, right?"

"Y-yes. Relying on the eyewitness reports, we've been attempting to search in many directions..."

"Hmm...right. If all possible power is being poured into this, then it's fine."

Because the chief was hanging his head, keeping his face hidden, he didn't notice the way that the count's eyes, which had been wide-open, were narrowed into mere slits.

"Even girls will be killed, don't you think?"

"Y-yes."

"As it's our first meeting, I'll say this."

With his shoes making a sound much like the scraping of a sickle, the count once again turned back to the planter, and, as he'd stated, made his declaration.

"I am an admirer of women."

"Ah. ...Huh?"

"Yes, it may be surprising to hear it from a noble, but to me, there is nothing in this world more important than women. They're more important than my own life. I like everything about them."

With a scraping noise, the count advanced, continuing to speak.

"The softness of their limbs gives one the impression of the round lines of the horizon, don't you think?"

Scrape.

"To listen to their voice is like listening to the chirping of birds, causing everything else to simply wash away."

Scrape.

"I'm sure you can understand that what I mean is, all of these women should be allowed to keep on living."

Scrape.

"That...I can say with confidence, though it may be embarassing-- women's hearts, bodies, voices, their past and future, their love, eccentricities, the peace of angels and their devil's smiles, all of it, all of it, all of it, I like it all."

Scrape.

"Sometimes I think that if I were to completely entrust myself to them, if they were to take all I own, if they were to betray me and kill me, it would still be okay."

Scrape.

"That is how much I like them."

Scrape.

"I love them!"

Scr…

"I'll say it again! I love women! I'll do it three times! I...love theeem!"

With both feet planted, with both hands outspread, he shouted this with all his might. The chief, suddenly meek, broke into a cold sweat.

He's got to be a lunatic.

Until now, he had watched this act of declaration happen with great self-confidence, but he now succumbed to a new feeling, that of cold fear.

"Hey, chief. New chief."

!?

Before he knew it, the count was kneeling before his own sitting form, eyes open. Next to his ear, quietly, he spoke.

"For that reason, I won't allow it."

“…tch.”

"Whether it's some sort of creature, or something else, even girls who haven't seen half their lives gone by, for young girls to be killed— it's something I can't forgive. A guy like this continuing to do as he pleases in this town, if he continues to ruin these girls— I...I won’t let that happen at all."

Inside those words was the awareness that they had been completely unable to catch that criminal— the chief, once again, felt fear fill him, and his body trembled.

The count's hatred and anger and sadness mingled together to create this heavy, constricting atmosphere— the pitiful chief was easily overwhelmed by it.

However-- the chief did not notice the last utterance of the count, not a threat-- but his true wish, his voice blending into the air.

"I'm begging you."


"...please...protect everyone."







(T/N: The group name "Bad Eggs" is basically a pun in Japanese that doesn't quite translate so well into English. The alternate meaning of the group name is something close to "Spawn of Corruption.")

12 comments:

  1. Again, thanks for translating! I've been looking forward to Ironic Light Orchestra with Huey and Elmer. And a page a second? Wow, just wow, Huey. Wish I could've done that with my AP Bio textbook.

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  2. aw man, you are awesome! seriously, thx so much for this. and i second the above: dying to see elmer, lmao. but man, monica makes me so happy. ilu.

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  3. Thanks for the update! Never knew Huey to be so badass. And Monica is so sweet.

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  4. thank you for translating ironic light orchestra!
    I am always curious of huey and elmer's story^_^

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  5. Beyond excellent! Though if I had one measly inquiry it would be to please add the small tabs for the drawn pages that coincide with text, similar to whats been done on spores blog. I'm a visual fag =P

    link- http://anonspore.blogspot.com/2010/03/baccano-2001-children-of-bottle-chapter_29.html#more

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  6. totally awesome!!! XD i'm a huuuuuge fan of Baccano, so when i found the translations of the light novels i was like 'OMFG'. i can't wait for the next update! thank you so much for translating!!!!

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  7. thank you so so so very much. i've been looking all over the internet for this.
    but oh, it seems i'm a bit too late. it's been a long time since the update, huh? i do hope you'll update very soon. cheers for you, though! you're awesome.

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  8. I just read the new part! Thank you so much! Esperança Boroñal reminds me of Chikage from Durarara. Both love women. :)

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  9. I'm always so excited when I find a baccano translation I haven't read yet. Thank you so much!

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  10. Hello from Nov. 28 2011! Keep up the great work! Am I allowed to be selfish?

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