Illustrations: photos#app#goo#gl/CQ3fgLnWxHzty7AX7
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On the streets of a quiet bedroom community in a small southwestern English town, one could see a strange picture that any local man would find quite entertaining.
On the side of a wide street that ran along the same, fenced with a low fence houses, a rather tall man was walking leisurely, carrying in front of him a large, as if made for his size, plastic baby carriage of black color and rather futuristic appearance.
But that was not what attracted the attention of passersby, who by some miscommunication were not at home, sleeping off the long Halloween holidays that had fallen on the weekend this year.
Their eyes were drawn to his rather unusual attire, consisting of a long onyx cloak of the closed type, with purple and gold trim at the edges of the hood and wide sleeves. The supposed man's face was concealed by a grimacing, grinning mask of red and green, adorned with two wide sapphire lenses for eyes.
But it was the massive branching gold staff in the man's left hand, with a bowl-shaped top, in which the heads of seven elaborate gold snakes intertwined and held huge, fist-sized jewels in their wide-open mouths.
If it had been any other day, such an outfit might have caused a bit of a stir among the locals. And at the very least, some casual passerby would have wondered what kind of themed festival might have been held in the quiet country town of Wiltshire County, where such an event was, if not uncommon, then a rather publicized event. Especially among young people.
But since today was the aftermath of Halloween, there was no question about it, and everyone passing by found a single, and rather rational, explanation: the man was returning from a holiday party. And the fact that he had a child... How many single fathers can there be in the city who have no one to leave their child with? Swindon is a small town, but not so small that everyone here knows everyone else's face.
I was in the midst of a confused and curious passersby, wondering at the quality of the costume and trying to remember which character the carefully crafted cosplayer might have dressed up as similar to hers.
At the same time, Momonga tried to ignore the people accompanying him, trying to walk toward his goal.
"I think I'm lost." — After walking a few more dozen meters, Satoru sighed wearily, "How many blocks have I walked so far? Ten? Eleven?"
But his problem was that he simply didn't know the way to it.
"I could wander like this until next year." — Momonga stopped. — "I'll have to ask..."
After catching sight of the only passerby in the neighborhood who was walking leisurely in his direction, Momonga began to approach him at a brisk pace.
«Uh, sir?» — A short boy of sixteen asked in surprise as he saw a figure in a strange robe approaching him.
Momonga stopped abruptly, and shifting from foot to foot, mentally exclaimed:
"Sir? Am I in some Anglo-Saxon country?" — Surprised, he said. — "Now, when I think about it, that rat-like man also, at first, addressed me in an English manner. But I wasn't in the best mental shape then, so..."
But seeing the already slightly nervous teenager, Momonga was abruptly alarmed.
"What am I even thinking right now? I don't know any English at all!" — He lamented. — "What am I going to do now in a foreign, prehistoric country without knowing the language?" — Satoru was panicking at the top of his lungs.
But suddenly, he felt a calmness he had never felt before. It was as if all of his worries were suddenly washed away by a rushing wave, leaving behind only a cold, calculating mind.
Before he could marvel at the sudden obsession, he was suddenly interrupted by a young man who had already begun to get quite nervous.
«Sir, can I help you?» — He asked, nervously adjusting his rectangular glasses.
And you can't really blame him, because when you look at it from the outside, the picture looks rather ambiguous.
Early in the morning, when there is hardly a soul around, a tall, dark figure in a rather sinister mask suddenly walks up to the lonely, puny teenager and just starts looking at him without saying a single word.
"Do I understand him?" — Satoru wondered. — "Never mind. We need to say something urgently."
«Excuse me, please, I'm a little preoccupied. Can you tell me the way to the library?»
For some reason, this question made the boy even more nervous, which was evident in his slightly trembling legs, and his eyes running around, frantically searching for at least someone.
But a sudden child's cry from the side of the stroller, which the boy at first mistook for part of a cosplay image unknown to him, calmed his raging imagination, and he, fixing his russet bangs, politely replied:
«I'm sorry, sir, but normally our town library is closed on weekends,» — the teenager answered calmly.» — Like, in fact, all libraries in England. — «He muttered to himself.»
Momonga felt a small sense of shame for not knowing such basic things. But fortunately for him, it passed quickly.
Due to the fierce competition between the corporations in his world, the concept of "closing a place for a day off" — had long since fallen into oblivion, having lost its relevance even before Suzuki was born. Therefore, he was very surprised when he heard the young man's words.
"So, England." — Satoru thought with interest. — "My superior often liked to boast, as if unintentionally and in passing, of his travels to England. Although, as far as I heard, he had only been there once, and that was during another business trip."
«You're not from around here, are you?» — Asked the teenager. — «And by the way, very nice Halloween costume. If it's no secret, what character do you play?»
«Right, ahem,» — Momonga coughed gracefully into his fist as he contemplated his next answer. — «I only recently came to England from Japan on company business. And last night, I happened to get separated from our celebrating delegation. And what about the suit...»
"Should I say I made it up myself, or should I lie?" — He thought hard.
«Our company develops video games. This is a costume for one of the characters in our new project.» — He blurted out the first thing that popped into his head.
The words seemed to bring out an unhealthy twinkle in Nathan's eyes. The same kind of gleam Momonga could see in Perorancino's eyes when he told him about the addition to his digital collection of eromanga.
«What's the game about? When will it come out in England? Will it come out on portable consoles, or only on arcade machines?»
Momonga was taken aback by this influx of questions, not knowing how to answer even one of them properly.
«Ahem, uh... It would be a fantasy RPG.» — Momonga blurted out.
Momonga seemed to have hit the guy's sensitive spot again, as the former glare was replaced by a future flame of excitement.
«Will someone finally make a D&D game!» — He exclaimed softly. — «They are, aren't they?» — The guy asked hopefully.
Momonga had to strain his memory pretty hard to remember the meaning of that strange acronym.
"As far as I remember, it's the short name for the board game Dungeons & Dragons, the progenitor of role—playing games. Oh Kami, what kind of temporal wilderness am I in?" — Suzuki recited to himself.
"Not really," Momonga said embarrassedly as he watched the fanatical fire in the young man's eyes begin to fade slowly. — "The plot will be based on Scandinavian mythology, but a lot of D&D elements will be incorporated into the game.
«Still» — it's incredible! My friend's cousin, whose uncle also works as a game developer, said that making a game like this on today's consoles is simply impossible! And making them for arcade machines just not profitable! On what console will it come out? And in general, as it will be called?
«It would be on a console...» — Momonga thought for a while and then answered, — «Sega.»
— Sega? — The little guy was puzzled.
"Come on!" — Satoru exclaimed mentally. — "I tried to remember the oldest console I've ever heard of. And it's not even out yet?!"
The green glow enveloped Momonga's silhouette again, causing him to plan, but immediately calmed down when he noticed the lack of any reaction from his companion.
«Yes, Sega.» — Momonga repeated. — «This set-top box should be out in a few years. It will be announced together with the game.»
Momonga could see the uncommon determination in his teenager's eyes and immediately realized that in a few years, or even later, he would definitely buy it.
«Oh, and you probably need a phone?» — Suddenly the teenager woke up. — «I'm sorry I didn't offer it to you right away. I must be terribly lost in an unfamiliar country, even though I know the language. And your English is very good, by the way. You don't even have an accent.» — He said embarrassedly.
«Thank you, I've been practicing a lot.» — He said, slightly embarrassed by the undeserved praise. — I'd really like to borrow your phone. — «He held out his hand in a begging gesture.»
The surprised teenager looked at the outstretched hand for a while and then shook it embarrassedly.
«Yes, I apologize again. My name is Paul. Paul Miller.» — He introduced himself.
«Suzuki Satoru.» — He replied mechanically to Momonga's greeting, slowly remembering that at this time, cordless phones had probably not yet been invented. — «My apologies if I'm distracting you from important business.»
«Ah, that's all right.» — Paul brushed me off. — «I was just on my way back from the convenience store. Come on, I don't live far from here. It's only a few blocks away.»
そのクソ翻訳機をオフにする
"And... How do I use this?" — Momonga stammered, looking at the strange-looking device that sat on a low wooden pedestal.
The supposed telephone was a trapezoidal plastic box covered with blue paint. On the front was a metal disc with ten holes, numbered from zero to nine.
The massive telephone receiver, which was attached to the top of the prehistoric machine, was the only detail that gave no reason to doubt the sanity of the guy who had volunteered as an assistant.
«I guess you have to press here.»
Grabbing the tube, which was small for his orichal-clad hand, Momonga hesitantly held it up to his temple, reaching his right hand toward the metal disc, which suddenly froze halfway there.
Momonga unfolded his hand and began hesitantly looking at his thick, gas-pipe-diameter fingertips, occasionally glancing at the penny-pinching holes of the machine.
This was the position in which he was caught by his landlord, who was holding a small tray with two glasses of something yellow and fizzy, presumably lemonade.
«Uh,» — Momonga glanced at the new arrival with nonexistent eyes, — «would you...»
«Oh yes, of course!» — Understood Paul, walking over to the phone and placing the tray on a small, half-empty shelf of books. — «They probably don't come off easily, after all...» — He muttered.
«Dictate.» — He said, holding up his finger to the dial.
"I needed the phone for the Internet," he remembered, anxiously looking around at his surroundings.
Running a glance around the living room, Momonga noticed a large, open book lying on the table beside the couch, with numbers written in columns there.
«Zero-eight,» — he began dictating a random line, "fifty-one, forty-one.
"Uh—huh..." — He stretched out in amazement, watching as the guy began to expertly enter the number, pulling the metal dial all the way back, inserting his finger into the appropriate holes.
The first beeps sounded, and a quiet, girlish voice sounded from the receiver.
«Hello, you've reached Afflex Video Tape Rental. Is there anything I can help you with?» — came the English voice from the other side of the phone.
And Momonga was enveloped in a soothing green glow again.
"Has that weird buff run out?" — Dumbfounded, Momonga thought, immediately forgetting the pre—selected words for a plausible depiction of a business conversation.
«Oops, I must be in your way.» — Misinterpreted the silence of the guest guy. — «I'm on my way.» — The man hurriedly skulked away, already crossing the living room doorway.
"So this auto—translator only works in person." — Legally, he decided. — "Problematic, but not critical. Considering what I'm about to do."
A little, more out of habit than physiological need, Momonga cleared his throat and said:
«Konichiwa, Suzukidesu. (Hello, it's me, Suzuki.)» — Momonga muttered in his native language. — «Mishiranu machi de mayotte imasu. (I'm lost in some city I don't know.)»
Momonga, finally assembled, quickly recalled the words he had rehearsed in his head. Even though there was no point in this performance for lack of an audience, Satoru decided to play to the end.
«I'm sorry, I don't understand.» — I heard a distinctly regretful reply from the woman I was talking to. — «Maybe you have someone who can help with the translation?» — A question came up. — «I don't even know what language you speak.»
«Paul, excuse me, can you please come over here?» — Momong's voice croaked a little.
It became clear that he didn't have to raise his voice, because he immediately jumped out from around the corner, obviously not fully aware that he had just fully exposed himself.
"At least pretend," — he thought to himself as he watched him already trying, to no avail, to hide a small notebook behind his back, in which he was clearly taking notes of the whole one—sided conversation. — "Okay, his such zealous curiosity is justified." — Calmly Momonga thought, remembering that this was his original plan. — "After all, his house is his right."
«Can you please remind me the name of this town?»
«Ah, yes. Swindon, sir. The county of Wiltshire.» — Said the man a little louder than usual, apparently thinking this information was needed by the interlocutor on the other side of the phone.
"Clever boy," Momonga sniggered, shifting his attention to the phone caller. — Anata wa subete o kita. (You heard everything.)
«I'm sorry, I don't quite understand. Do you want to order delivery to Swindon?»
«Naze carera wa sudeni Ni-i-hon e no tochuu made kite iru nodesu ka?! (What do you mean, halfway to Jap-p-pan?!)» — Shouted Momonga indignantly. — «Kaeri no kokuken mo kurenakatta! (I don't even have a return ticket!)»
He could tell by the slight tremor in his voice that speaking in a high pitched tone was not something the former office worker was used to. But fortunately, the main listener of this performance did not pay any attention to it.
After a short silence on the other side of the phone, the girl, apparently recovered from a sudden tirade of a foreign interlocutor, meekly said:
«I'm hanging up.»
And then there was a long beep.
«Eh...» — Momonga sighed wearily, walking over to the nearest stool and sitting down heavily on it, which made it even creak a little with strain.
«What's the matter?» — The brown-haired man asked worriedly, pushing the second stool next to the table over to him.
«My delegation has almost arrived back in Japan.»
«And you were left behind?» — He jumped up in surprise, but immediately returned to his seat. — «How can that be? Do you at least have a ticket back?»
Momonga bowed his head slightly, answering in a low voice:
«Everyone was preparing for a tough negotiation, so the bosses didn't see fit to buy tickets for the return flight right away. But surprisingly, everything went pretty smoothly, and yesterday afternoon all the documents were finally signed. We were told that the tickets would be purchased for tonight. But apparently, while I was gone, something went wrong...»
And as if to reinforce the dramatic effect, from the corridor where the stroller was left, there was a loud baby crying.
«I-I can help you, can't I?» — Paul asked Momonga, who was already heading toward the hallway.
Shining his ephemeral eyes under his mask, Momonga answered without turning around:
«Yes, as a matter of fact. It would be nice...»
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