Suikoden Short Stories - TRANSLATION - Richmond (1)

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CarmenMCS
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Joined: Tue Aug 19, 2014 11:32 am

Suikoden Short Stories - TRANSLATION - Richmond (1)

Postby CarmenMCS » Tue Aug 19, 2014 11:44 am

Hello, this is Carmen. I've seen some people posting translations around so I want to contribute!!! I am sure this isn't the best format but I've been wasting so much time trying to make it look better ha ha ha. Sorry.

Find all the fan-traslations we’ve got in this masterpost http://carmenmcs.tumblr.com/post/75642305861/a-suikoden-main-series-masterpost-for-the-fans

If someone doesn't know what I am talking about: there are a number of OFFICIAL Genso Suikoden Novels and Mangas. They were never released overseas, except for the Suikoden III manga which is available in English in the USA. So some of us fellow fans are trying to -slowly- translate more for everyone to read, especially now that the Suikoden Revival Movement is on fire! We understand this may be a bit “illegal” but given these books are very old and difficult to find first hand, no money is being lost on Konami’s part, we think. We feel this would help a lot get the fandom more excited and educated on the Suikoden lore that was always so inaccessible to most of the western fans.


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In this post we bring you:

- From "Genso Suikoden Short Stories nº 4" (ISBN4-8402-2106-5)

- A short story about Richmond, Bianca and detective times!

*** Japanese scans -all of Richmond’s chapters- (by CarmenMCS http://carmenmcs.tumblr.com/) ---> DOWNLOAD http://www.mediafire.com/download/8vi77616hjos1fk/Book+4+-+Richmond.rar

*** English translation of Richmond Chapter 1 (by Rachael http://rachaellikespink.tumblr.com/)





RICHMOND’S SHORT STORY


CHAPTER 1



“What was that noise just now?”

Meow.

“Oh, this? It’s a kitten meowing. It’s a little weird, but…” The girl picked up the round ball of fur in her lap and showed it to me.

To be sure, it had four legs and two eyes, but because of its long, tufted fur, one could not be certain whether it was a cat or a dog. Well, if she said it was a cat, it must be a cat.

“Hmmm, what’s its name?” When I stood before the girl and held out my hand, the cat stuck out its neck and sniffed my fingertips.

The Lavender Village Murder Case

When I stepped onto the ground from the stagecoach, Radat town was bathed in the warm red color of the setting sun that was sinking into the mountain range in the distant horizon.

When had I last come to this town? It must have been about a year and a half ago. Neither the forest that expanded around the town nor the river that ran parallel to the east side had changed since than.

“Well, here we are. It’s been a long trip.” The driver stood at my side and spoke in a loud voice to the remaining riders. “I’ll be here until tomorrow afternoon, so favor me with your patronage if you’re returning to South Window. Heh heh heh.”

He wore a fur vest and loose trousers, looking for all the world like country-dwelling old man. When he forced a smile on his face, I could see his uneven teeth, dyed orange by the setting sun.

A public stagecoach regularly passes between South Window and Radat. The regular coachman wouldn’t have had such a half-assed manner. He wore his uniform properly and had a steady manner. But now, due to the civil war happening in the nearby Scarlet Moon Empire, the horses had all been collected as an emergency supply for the state army. At Mayor Granmeyer’s discretion, farmers with horses could, for the time being, volunteer to run the stagecoaches instead.

This was far better than traveling such a long distance on foot, but this driver made me sick. He didn’t have a lick of manners and was persistently ogling the women riding with him.

“Thanks. Are you travelin’, sir?” The driver turned to me and held out his hand, which was covered with a dirty working glove. He was requesting payment for the stagecoach. I jangled the change in my coat pocket and was about to put it into his hand. The lightly soiled working glove had holes in the middle finger and palm.

The driver’s forced smile changed into a persistent one. That scheming expression got on my nerves.

“Yeah, I am,” I answered curtly.

“If you’re traveling alone, I know of a good shop. How about it? Tonight. I’ll guide you there, heh heh.”

“Oh? Have you also been working as a tout lately?”

The driver rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, I’m glad I started working as a driver, but with that ‘liberation war’ going on, there’s been a lot of travelers lately. If I don’t do anything else, my earnings won’t increase at all.”

“You’ve got a passion for business. But did you know?” Before his eyes, I flipped a coin, making it dance in the sky. The coin sparkled in the sunset. “It seems the great Mayor Granmeyer strictly punishes those who solicit and carry out other such insolent actions within this territory. By the way, the Public Order Department’s director is an acquaintance of mine.”

“Eh!? No, this is, this is…”

The coin fell onto the tip of the panicked driver’s nose. I grabbed it back and spoke over my shoulder as I headed into town. “I’ll stay quiet about this. In exchange, I’m keeping this.”

The driver groaned with a voice that sounded like the snore of a napping pig, but I ignored him and left that place. The fact that the driver was going so far as to work as a solicitor was a sign that we’d fallen on hard times. I, who had already been carrying such an unbearable feeling in my heart, became even more depressed.

But it didn’t really matter. It was to free myself of this depression that I came to Radat, after all.

I walked along the path that ran between the trees in the town’s direction. The hustle and bustle of the downtown area was gradually growing closer. By the time I reached the main street, the sun had set and night had fallen. But on this road, where so many people were coming and going, neither the sun nor the moon had any effect. Thanks to the paper lanterns hanging from the eaves of the restaurants and bars, the area was as bright and lively as at midday.

I surrendered myself to the crowds and headed north along the main street. As usual around mealtime, young fishermen and boatmen, having finished their business negotiations, were strutting along the road with their companions. Now and then a messenger boy with tucked-up trouser cuffs or a barmaid wearing an apron would run by.

This was it. Indeed, if Radat weren’t this way…Little by little, my shoulders began to relax. I jeered at hawkers at the food stalls and bars as I wandered about, and when I reached the northern outskirts of town, I turned around and retraced my steps, back toward the south. Before I knew it, my spirits were uplifted. Being among people who were engrossed in their lives, I was able to feel relaxed. I continued to walk through the town as I pondered this trifling matter.

I live in South Window City, the capital of the vast territory of South Window in the southern part of the City-States. But I like the “quirky” Radat even more than the large city where I’ve lived for so long.

There were the occasional skirmishes with the neighboring Scarlet Moon Empire, but thanks to the good government laid down by Granmeyer, South Window was usually an easy place to live. That was a good thing, but as good as public order was, the people couldn’t help but look like they were spending their everyday lives without any sort of vigor. They’d greet their neighbors with the same smiles as yesterday, have unstimulating conversations, and go home to play with their bonsai trees.

To me, it was boring and inconsiderate. Especially since I had put up that suspicous-looking sign, Richmond Detective Agency.

In that regard, Radat was different. On the east side of town, there was a river that flowed from Dunan Lake to the neighboring country’s Toran Lake, and trade moved freely to and from distant places. That alone brought all different kinds of people from every land. Compared to South Window, there wasn’t much in the way of public order, but the people here were lively. In the streets, people were as lively as though their souls were exchanging ideas, and the burning smell of humanity produced by that friction drifted about.

I loved immersing myself in that smell, and when I felt boiled down, I would often come here from South Window. I’ve also thought about living in Radat. Well, since that’s how I am, I can’t help being told by women, “I can’t follow you anymore.”—whoops, now I’m talking to myself—but anyway…

Maybe I really should move my office here. As I was thinking this, my feet stopped, and I found myself in the outskirts of town with little pedestrian traffic and few buildings.

I looked around at the trees that stood quietly in the gloomy darkness and suddenly felt troubled. It was fine that I’d come here while intoxicated in the atmosphere of the town, but I hadn’t thought of any plans for tonight at all. I could just drink some sake and put up at a cheap inn for the night, but when I tried to bid farewell to this dark feeling, I suddenly wanted to do something fun.

Then, what should I do?

There was one answer. According to my internal clock, it was well past suppertime. I took out the coin I kept in the bottom of my pocket and flipped it. Heads, I’d go to a famous bar, warm up with some hot pot and go to sleep. Tails, I’d have some boiled fish at a small—

But as the coin danced in the night sky, it didn’t return to my palm. I heard it from the forest that expanded outside the town—a man’s scream, so terrible it could make the stars in the sky tremble, and my body stiffened so that I was unable to catch the coin.

“What was that?”

I quieted my breathing and checked the area for signs of something amiss. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw that deep within the forest, a light was burning. I knew that my heart was pounding. Deep within my body, the sleeping detective spirits were awakening. I happily gave my body up to that feeling, picked up the coin that had fallen to and was still spinning on the ground, and ran in the direction of the light as fast as I could.

In a clearing in the forest, a two-story western-style house leapt into my vision. Under the eaves hung a sign with “Lavender Village” written on it. The name was over-the-top, but it was an inn, after all. I stopped for a moment and looked around the inn and its surroundings. Light was on in all the rooms of the first floor and only two of the second, and all the windows were closed.

There was nothing unusual outside. But the scream was inside the inn. When I walked into the entryway, the narrow lobby was lit up by the lamp’s dim light. The stairs that led up to the second floor in front, the front desk to the right, and a dining hall and bar to the left.

In the dining hall were four or five men. I spoke to the man closest to me, who appeared to be a fisherman. “Did you hear that scream just now?”

“The scream was on the second floor. The owner here went up there.”

At the same tim as the man’s answer, I heard a woman’s shout similar to the scream from the second floor. I hurriedly ran up the stairs, where the second door from the beginning of the right hallway was open.

I ran into the room without hesitation. It was tidy, there was a sofa in front of the main window, and beside the door that probably lead to the bathroom hung a landscape painting. It was a typical interior, on the bed near the right wall was an unthinkable scene.

The body of an attractive, silver-haired gentleman, about 40 years old and wearing a yellow nightgown, was lying on the bed. The gown’s breast was all cut apart, as though with a sharp knife, and fresh blood was splattered all over the area.

“This is terrible,” I muttered, and turned my attention to the two characters next to the bed.

“Milan, Milan!? Hang in there!! Did something happen!?” One of them was a woman around 40 who was wearing a pink one-piece dress, with glittering, blond, disheveled hair, clinging to the man and paying no mind to the blood that was getting all over her. It was her voice that had come down the hall. The other person was was a middle-aged man who was walking around the room, confused and groaning with his balding head in his hands. When I looked at his aproned potbelly, I figured he must be the inkeeper.

The two of them were perfectly stunned. They hadn’t noticed that I had entered the room. I grabbed the owner’s shoulder and shouted in a loud voice.

“Hey, what are you doing!? A doctor, call a doctor!! We don’t know for sure that he’s dead yet!”

“Huh? Ah! I see!!”

The owner snapped out of it and flew from the room. I immediately threw off my coat and approached the injured man. I slapped his cheeks several times, but he was already unconscious.

“Damn! He needs first-aid treatment, help me!”

“Yes, sir!”

I scolded the woman and had her take off the man’s gown. In the meantime, I quickly tore some folded sheets.

“Don’t you have any medicine? Some medicinal plants to stop the bleeding, anything’s fine, if you’re traveling, you should have some, right?”

“Y-yes, we do!”

“All right, good!!”

At the woman’s answer, I had a moment of hope. But as soon as I turned my gaze to the man’s open chest, that hope died. It was far more severe than I’d thought. There were several sharp wounds on the side, as though he had been slashed over and over again with some sort of cutlery. It was so bad that I could see his white ribs in the sea of blood that flowed from his wounds.

Praying that his wounds weren’t too deep, I put my hand to the back of his neck and felt for a pulse. It was weak, but it was definitely there. Next I wiped away the blood and put my ear next to his chest. There was no sound of air escaping and it didn’t sound like there was a hole in his lungs, either. Then the only problem was blood loss.

“Um, is my husband all right…?”

When I looked up, I saw that there were tears in the corners of the wrinkled woman’s eyes, and her blue eyes had become colored with despair. I answered her slowly.

“I see. So this man is your husband. Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be all right!”

I took a hemostatic agent from her trembling hand, hurriedly covered the wound with it, and wrapped the torn sheets around the wound. When I finished my temporary treatment, I was just feeling relieved when the woman covered her face with her hand and started to cry. The pure and sincere tears of this woman who loved her husband trailed down her white cheeks.

The hemostatic agent wasn’t working yet, and beneath the gloomy light of the lamp, the blood was sinking into the previously white sheets. And her sobbing was slowly spreading into my heart.

Finally, that feeling inside me changed to anger. “No matter what the reason, I couldn’t forgive the act of hurting someone,” my completely awakened detective spirits were shouting in a loud voice.

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