Copyright
BACCANO!, Volume 5: 2001 THE CHILDREN OF BOTTLE
RYOHGO NARITA
Translation by Taylor Engel
Cover art by Katsumi Enami
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
BACCANO!, Volume 5
©RYOHGO NARITA 2004
All rights reserved.
Edited by ASCII MEDIA WORKS
First published in Japan in 2004 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.
English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Yen On
1290 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10104
Visit us at yenpress.com
facebook.com/yenpress
twitter.com/yenpress
yenpress.tumblr.com
instagram.com/yenpress
First Yen On Edition: September 2017
Yen On is an imprint of Yen Press, LLC.
The Yen On name and logo are trademarks of Yen Press, LLC.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Narita, Ryōgo, 1980– author. | Engel, Taylor, translator.
Title: Baccano! Volume 5, 2001 The Children of Bottle / Ryohgo Narita ; translation by Taylor Engel.
Other titles: 2001 The Children of Bottle
Description: First Yen On edition. | New York : Yen On, 2017.
Identifiers: LCCN 2015045300 | ISBN 9780316270366 (v. 1 : hardback) |
ISBN 9780316270397 (v. 2 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316270410 (v. 3 : hardback) |
ISBN 9780316270434 (v. 4 : hardback) | ISBN 9780316558662 (v. 5 : hardback)
Subjects: | CYAC: Science fiction. | Nineteen twenties—Fiction. | Organized crime—Fiction. | Prohibition—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.N37 Bac 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015045300
ISBNs: 978-0-316-55866-2 (hardcover)
978-0-316-44226-8 (ebook)
E3-20170825-JV-PC
February 2003In a certain place
Hey.
You people look like you’re enjoying yourselves.
Even if Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, those are some pretty weird duds. Wearing bells all over… You’ll drive yourselves nuts.
Huh. So that’s why you’re dressed like that. That’s pretty optimistic.
Y’know, you remind me of that guy.
Happy Ending. That was his nickname. You could stick a Mr. in front of that, or maybe make it The Happy Ending. Just trick it out somehow so that it sounds cool. As long as you’ve got Happy Ending in there, he’ll probably be satisfied.
Yeah, he’s a weird one. The only thing on his radar is other people’s happiness… And he doesn’t care whether the person seeking happiness is a good guy or a bad one.
What about him? If you’re asking whether he’s happy or not… I bet even he doesn’t know. If we’re dividing people into good guys and bad ones, though, he’s definitely bad. No doubt about it.
That’s a contradiction? No it isn’t, not at all. It’s not as if people who wish for happiness are always good guys.
…You want to hear more? More of this drifter’s idle talk?
Ha-ha. Say, thanks.
Let’s see. I’ve got some time before my friends get back, so I guess I could talk until then.
It was… Yeah, it was about three hundred years ago now, on a certain ship…
PROLOGUE
SMILE JUNKIE
1711 On the Atlantic Ocean The Advena Avis
“Dammit! Wake up! Wake uuuup! Everyone’s gonna die! We’ll all be killed— Aah! AAAAAAAAAAAaAka-ka-kaaaAAAAh! AAAAAaaaah! AaaAaaah! Aaah! Aaah…”
An uproar engulfed the ship.
In the darkness…all they heard were screams.
The alchemists had left their homelands and were bound for the New World.
And on that ship, at long last, they’d successfully summoned a demon.
With that, they’d achieved what was generally considered one of alchemy’s ultimate goals: immortality.
However, that immortality had a troublesome restriction…
There was one way for them to die: Find another immortal and have that person place a hand upon their head. Then the other simply had to think, forcefully, I want to eat. By doing this, they could give all their knowledge, memories, and experiences—and sometimes even their personality—to the other. They could deal death to themselves and allow the other to inherit all the accomplishments of the life they’d left behind.
However, naturally, some of them had thought about this from the other direction. In fact, the restriction made more sense when considered in that light.
One could inherit all the others’ experiences and become an immortal king.
On the next night after the demon had been summoned, a man plunged down that road toward everlasting solitude.
He ate the companions who’d studied alchemy alongside him, throwing the ship into infernal pandemonium.
The man’s name was
“It’s Szilard! The filthy old bastard—he’s betrayed us!”
“That wretch… Stop him! Somebody stop him! No, I don’t care who does it—eat him!”
“Where did he go?! He must still be on the ship!”
“Careful! He’s already eaten more than five of us! He won’t move the way he did before!”
As angry roars filled the ship, one shadow was attempting to hide in the hold.
She was a bespectacled girl with silver hair, sixteen or seventeen years old. She seemed clearly out of place, and…
Scared, I’m scared. Hide—I have to hide somewhere.
Him too… I know he’s hiding somewhere, too. I have to find him—
Panicked by the abrupt crisis in the dead of night, she simply fled from the noise without any sort of plan. She’d meant to go down into the ship’s hold and hide until the situation had resolved itself, but—
The instant she reached the bottom of the stairs into the depths of the hull, a wrinkled hand covered her head.
Her eyes went wide with terror. Reflected in them was the grim smile of the old man who was the cause of the uproar.
“To think I’d get to eat a young woman in a place like this. My carnal impulses died long ago, but despite my years, I’m excited.”
Then the right hand he’d set on her head tensed.
…But nothing happened.
The eyes of the old man—Szilard Quates—widened slightly. His expression suggested he couldn’t understand the situation, but after a moment, realization dawned.
“Sylvie, you witch… You didn’t drink it, did you?”
“……Ah…… Aaaah…”
Pinned by Szilard’s coldly gleaming eyes, the girl he’d called Sylvie was petrified, unable to answer.
He’ll kill me.
In the instant that certainty hit her, Szilard’s right arm abruptly left her head—and fell to the floor with a thump. The old man’s arm had been severed partway down, and blood pulsed vigorously from the cut surface.
The blood splattered on Sylvie as well, but each drop immediately began trembling, then gathering like a swarm of small insects, and then each was drawn back into Szilard’s arm of its own accord. The severed surfaces were joined together. As if the blood between them had been changed into rubber, they writhed toward one another, attempting to regenerate.
“Gkh… UoooOooogh!”
“Apparently we feel pain, even if we are immortal. I am pleased I was able to experiment on you.”
The two heard an arrogant voice from beside Szilard as he desperately bore the agony.
When Sylvie searched for the source, she found a brown-skinned young man. His right hand held a blade that looked like a Chinese cleaver, and his face was suffused with a quiet rage.
“Nile… You cur!”
“I am incredibly angry at the moment, but allow me to express this thought: I will kill you.”
Szilard’s arm had completely regenerated, and the man called Nile raised his knife.
“While there is absolutely no need to say it, let me inform you: Die.”
The thick blade bore down on him with enough force to cleave his skull. Evading it by a hair, Szilard slipped past Nile and dashed toward the stairs leading upward on the opposite side.
Nile didn’t try to go after him. Instead, he spoke to the girl, who’d fallen to her knees and was trembling like a leaf.
“Hmm. Are you all right?”
Just as Sylvie got to her feet and was about to say something…
“Hi there, you two. You okay?”
As Nile offered his haughty consideration, from above his head they heard a voice that was completely wrong for the situation.
“Guess I didn’t even need to check; you look fine. That’s great, that’s really fantastic. Sylvie and Nile… That’s wonderful. All right, I know this is abrupt, but c’mon and smile. Show me your teeth; give me a big ol’ grin.”
When the pair looked up, they saw a man whose beaming face didn’t betray the slightest sense of danger.
The guy, who’d poked his head in from the top of the stairs, had hooked his fingers into the corners of his mouth and pulled, forming a big grin.
“Goan, aiuhl, aiuhl. (Go on, smile, smile.)”
“Elmer. Does this look like an appropriate time for jokes?”
When Nile reproached him, the man he’d called Elmer responded by shrugging. The smile on his face showed no sign of fading. However, strangely, the expression didn’t strike him as sarcastic, so Nile made no attempt to force him to stop.
“I’m not joking. When you’re panicking, for starters, it’s better to smile. Smiling will cool your head.”
“You are the only one foolish enough to smile in this situation,” Nile replied. “If you can hide, you should do so immediately.”
At that, Elmer quietly shook his head. “No, I’m going to try to talk old Szilard down, so you two wait here.”
He had said the words pragmatically. However, Sylvie and Nile objected, eyes wide, as if they couldn’t believe their ears.
“Let me just say this: It’s useless. Even supposing you did manage to talk him down, Maiza would never be satisfied with that,” Nile insisted. “If he’s going to die anyway, the rest of us will take less damage if we kill him immediately.”
Elmer shrugged. “If that happens, I’ll try to talk Maiza down, too.”
“How naïve can you possibly…”
“Yeah, I agree that it’s naïve. That’s why I’m gonna talk him down first. If I fail and get eaten, then the rest of you can do whatever you want.”
Elmer spoke as if he were merely going out for lunch, and in spite of herself, Sylvie cried out:
“You can’t! You’ll never stop him! He—when he tried to eat me, he smiled! As if he was really enjoying himself—! There’s no way you’ll get through to a man like that!”
However, when Elmer heard that, his answer was even stranger:
“So old Szilard was smiling? I see… In that case, it’ll work out somehow.”
“What…?”
Ignoring the young woman’s mystified expression, Elmer grinned. “C’mon, Sylvie, smile! You have to smile!” he called down enthusiastically from the top of the stairs, only to laugh as he withdrew his head from view.
Sylvie and Nile were left behind, and before long, the young woman fearfully asked a question.
It wasn’t about Elmer’s abnormal personality. It was about something Nile had said in their conversation, something she hadn’t been able to understand.
“Listen…Nile? You said Maiza wouldn’t be satisfied… What did you mean by that?”
“Hmm…”
Nile’s face clouded.
“It… It can’t be… Can it? No, it couldn’t possibly…”
As if trying to confirm something, Sylvie shook Nile’s brown arm fiercely.
“Tell me it isn’t; say it isn’t that! Nile, please!”
Before the tearful Sylvie, Nile only kept his silence.
“Dammit, where did the old man go?!”
“Found him! He’s up on deck!”
“Heeey, Old Man Szilard! Over here, look at me, listen to me!”
“What’s that? Is that Elmer?”
“Wh-what…is…he…do…ing? Why…is…he…up…there…?”
“Aaah, look out—!”
“Elmer!”
A splash. Then silence.
Elmer’s mind was enveloped in infinite darkness.
And then…he heard a voice.
At the sound, Elmer’s consciousness began to return, dimly.
He felt a strange sensation, as if he’d lain down in midair. Opening his eyes a crack, he saw a man’s vaguely familiar face. Aside from that, there was nothing except endless blackness.
That “Well, never mind”… Of course. I remember. This guy’s the demon.
The demon who’d given them immortality. Elmer had just assumed he’d gone away. What was he doing down here? Even as Elmer fuzzily pondered, the demon indifferently continued.
The demon asked his question quietly, looking at Elmer as if he were some sort of strange life form. After giving it a little thought, Elmer spoke with a smile that didn’t go past his lips.
“I thought it might be. After all, Sylvie said Szilard smiled.”
“…If you can smile, that means you’re still at least a little human. Even if the smile belongs to a murderer right after he’s gratified his desires, I’ll never say it doesn’t count. No matter what shape it takes, as long as someone’s able to smile, there’s still a chance that you can resolve the situation by talking it out. Maybe wars are different, but this case is still about the feelings and wants of individuals. No matter how small the possibility is, I want to try.”
“Even so. It felt like eating Szilard immediately wasn’t the happiest ending for that situation. Letting him get away would have been worse. Talk the old guy down, have him give a genuine apology, then make him atone for his sins through eternity until, someday, everybody else forgives him.”
“The dead don’t smile anymore. They don’t feel joy or anger either. That’s what dying means. If there are ghosts in thi
s world…well, you can’t say they’re really dead, as far as I’m concerned. Anyway, I think it’s important to respect the dead—but they don’t really interest me.”
After a brief silence, the demon’s voice echoed directly into his brain.
At that, the demon made him an unbelievably tempting offer.
“You’re like an Arabian djinni.”
With an ironic expression, the demon shook his head slightly.
After thinking for a little while, Elmer smiled and spoke:
“I’ve made up my mind, demon.”
The voice in his mind sounded surprised.
Then, with no hesitation, Elmer named the power he wanted.
“Listen, demon, I—”
“Hey, Elmer! Are you all right?!”
“Oh, he’s awake!”
“Good, that’s great.”
At the sound of someone smacking his cheeks, Elmer realized his view was flooded with light.
When he looked around, he saw that he was on the deck and that the rising sun was warmly shining down on him. Putting the facts in order, he pieced together that after he’d fallen into the sea, someone had pulled him back out.
“…What happened to old Szilard?”
“Huey and Denkurou cornered him, but he threw himself into the ocean and got away.”
“I see…”
Hearing the outcome from his companion’s lips, Elmer responded with a brief murmur.
Complicated thoughts filled him, and although he’d begun to sit up, he lowered himself to the deck again and gazed at the sky. The morning sun shone into his eyes, but stars still gleamed in the highest part of the heavens.
2001 The Children of Bottle Page 1