V1: The Rolling Bootlegs ch 3 pt. 5
Barnes and Szilard are really dull... but the next two weeks make up for it =9


Day 1 - part 5

“That’s why, use the oil like this… apply it to the leather glove. Then, bring the match close…”

On a road in East Village [5], a skinny man’s right hand was engulfed in a blue flame.

[5] East Village: a neighborhood in the borough of Manhattan in New York City (source: Wikipedia)

“Oy, stoppit! Your hand will be burned off!”

The one who said this was a round, fat man, who watched anxiously from one side.

“Didn’t I say before, s’all right… See, I just need to press my hand against the wall.”

The skinny man pressed his hand against the wall and, because the oxygen supply was cut off, the fire extinguished instantly.

“See?”

“Ooh… That’s really amazing.”

As members of the Martillo family, “Ghost” Randy and “Meatball” Pezzo were busy preparing for tonight’s celebrations.

Because they bought too much oil, the two had opened a bottle and were gleefully playing a dangerous game.

“Aah, there’s still a lot left… it’d be okay if we didn’t open bottles freely.”

“But what’do we needta buy next?”

“Good point… We’ll get some fruits for dessert.”

Where was the closest fruit store? Just as Randy was musing over that, Pezzo opened another bottle of oil.

“Oy Pezzo, what’re you doing?”

“Oh, no, I just wanted to play that burning hand game again. You see, this can be highlight of tonight’s show, right?”

“Idiot! Why’d you open a new bottle? There’s still plenty left in this one!”

“Ah it’s all right. Since we’ve still got so much left anyway.”

Crammed in the paper bag Pezzo was cradling were over ten cannisters of oil. And perhaps as part of the store’s service- inside were also quite a few can openers.

“I really can’t stand it. Oil aside, what’s with all these can openers… It’s all because you bought too much, Randy.”

“Can’t be anything done about it. The more you buy the cheaper it gets. After all, with the economy so bad now it’s best to buy as much as you can while you can.”

“Honestly… If not for me you would’ve spent all our cash on oil.”

Pezzo said laughingly, and pulled out an oil cannister from his own bag.

“Randy, give me a light. I can’t with this paper bag in my hand.”

“Can’t be helped…”

Randy struck a match. As there was still a residue of oil left on his own gloves, he kept the match as far away as possible from his hands the instant the match caught fire.

“Watch.”

Just as Randy was about to hand over the match to his companion, he noticed something he had overlooked earlier.

(This guy’s glove, is it made out of cloth--)

But it was already too late. The moment the match touched Pezzo’s huge glove it was engulfed in flames, making a ‘gougou’ sound as it burned furiously.

“Woah, this wouldn’t burn through, right?

Seeing a fiercer flame than he expected, Pezzo panickedly pressed his hand against the wall.

Although this extinguished the flames around his palm, other areas that didn’t touch the wall were still enveloped in blue flames.

“Hey! Didn’t you say that’ll extinguish it!”

“Aaaaah--! You idiot! There’s also oil on the back of your hand!”

As soon as Pezzo’s hand left the wall, the extinguished areas resumed burning.

Pezzo hurriedly flapped his hand, but the flames showed no sign of wanting to extinguish. A lot of oil had seeped into the cloth, so Pezzo’s hand became like a huge candle’s wick. The paper bag was thrown far away, and oil from the opened cannisters splashed against the woodwork of the white wall.

“Ouch! It’s become hot!”

“Calm down! Quickly take off your glove!”

As per Randy’s instructions, Pezzo tore off the glove panickedly and waved his hand around frantically.

Besides some small blisters on the back of his hand, there wasn’t any serious injury.

“Aaah… I thought I was gonna die there…”

“Honestly… sorry I almost roasted your hand.”

“Not at all.”

“Haha…”

The two gave a sigh of relief, and were about to pick up the fallen cannisters…

They froze.

The discarded glove had landed right into a puddle of oil… What burned was not just the oil, but also the side of the wooden building. But the difference was that the blue flames had turned red.

Randy quickly surveyed the surroundings, confirming that there was no one else around.

Pezzo swept up the paper bag that, by pure luck, hadn’t caught on fire yet, and stuffed the oil cannisters back in.

In perfect synchrony, the two-man combi exchanged silent looks…

-- They nodded furiously at the same time, then departed from the scene like the wind.


<==>


Finally, finally, my greatest wish is about to become reality…

Eternal life. When I heard of similar things in myths and fairy tales, I always snorted contemptuously and dismissed them as the same old stories. But now that I think about it, it was what I thought of myself then… at that time, I ridiculed myself shallowly for fantasising about things impossible to realise.

But the sight of this‘reality’ makes me elated, however ridiculous it seems.

Lying on the table is a small, white rat. And within its body is the dream I am pursuing.

This species of rat is a ‘seed’ for experiments, created using Master Szilard’s alchemy. It has an alarming reproductive ability, but only possesses a lifespan of seven days.

But the one before my eyes has already lived for 15 days, and it stopped growing the third day after it drank the concocted ‘wine’. If what was drunk was the ‘incomplete product’, then the rat would not only grow, but also ‘age’ until it died. So from this perspective, the wine I concocted should be the ‘complete product’.

The hammer is savagely swung down. A piercing shrill sounds, and at the same time crimson scatters over the table.

I silently look at the splattered remains of the rat. No matter how many times I’ve watched this happen, the wait for the instant the miracle occurs always feels indeterminably long. If one knows the miracle does exist, then every extra second always feels like a waste.

Although in reality only tens of seconds have passed in silence, but, to me, they feel like hours… No, I’ve been waiting for this day for decades.

The scattered drops of blood on the table, as though they’re sentient, begin to move one by one. Even the blood that had seeped into the woodwork of the table creep out like bugs drawn to sunlight. If this doesn’t count as miracle, then what can?

The army of blood begin to head towards its destination… to where the hammer fell- the coagulated mass that is the dead rat.

This scene gives one the mistaken feeling of time flowing backwards. No, time is reversing for the ‘death’ of the rat on this table.

To be able to alter the flow of time is truly a miracle, an act that can only be performed by god or demons. I too have finally waited till this day.

That’s right… if such a miracle had occurred to the Master by my side, then he was already part of this‘miracle’ 200 years earlier.

20 years ago, it was he, Master Szilard, who sucked me, only a real estate agent at the time, into becoming a ‘member’.

At the time I was somewhat famous in the world of real estate, but now I think back on it, it was a boring label. Such a common label was only a prop needed in preparation for achieving this miracle.

When I met first Master Szilard through an introduction by an old friend, a Congressman (obviously a member), I didn’t believe a single word they said. That was, until Master Szilard cut off his own finger.

The sight of Master Szilard’s regeneration before my eyes reignited my dream of immortality.

And on that day, I finally obtained the ‘Wine of Immortality’. Although this was called an ‘incomplete product’ by Master Szilard, but it also granted me an indestructable body. But there was an exception, and that was death through old age. When comparing that and the ‘complete product’ that could overcome this weakness, what I drank was indeed an ‘incomplete product’.

At the time, I, who had drunk the ‘incomplete product’, was ordered by Master Szilard to recruit a brewer for making the ‘completed wine’ and to manage related matters. I questioned the decision to make someone as unfamiliar with alchemy as I the manager, and Master Szilard responded that, if he were to let a skilled alchemist to take over, he was not able to trust such a person. Although I still don’t understand the Master’s words, but as long as it was Master’s Szilard who said them, they shouldn’t be wrong.

For the next 30 years, I repeated the same routine daily- issuing orders to the brewer, testing the ‘wine’ on the rats- everyday was as thus. Because there was poison in the ingredients of the recipe, there was no need to worry that the clueless brewer would secretly try the experimental product. And the truth was that the lab rats which didn’t drink the completed wine would die immediately… Just like the rats which drank the ‘incomplete product’, which quietly waited for old age to catch up with them. No matter which one it was, the ending was always the same.

Although the work was painstaking, it was at least tolerable- what made the work most demanding was that damnable prohibition act. Although it was a pointless law made by a bunch of useless guys, it posed a significant problem. Just as the word ‘wine’ in the experimental product’s name suggests, this medicine needed to be disguised as alcohol. But with the damnable prohibition act, we couldn’t openly operate a large-scale brewery, or purchase large quantities of one of the ingredients, alcohol; everything became incredibly difficult.

But now, all that pain is but sweet memory. It looks like changing the brewer every once in a while was a brilliant plan. Of course, once everything of use has been extracted from a brewer, they would die from a convenient accident.

The current brewer who completed the product- perhaps because he had still some value left after producing the product, or because Master Szilard still had some other plans in mind for him- he was granted for the moment his life as a reward.

I never saw him as someone cared about money, but then I heard he lost not only his money but his life when he encountered a robber.

Ah well, he’s just a guy like that.

It doesn’t matter anymore, as I already grasp the fruit of our work in my hands. All that’s left is to show it to Master Szilard.

The fully restored rat starts struggling from the pain of the large iron pins binding its paws. What a lucky rat. To receive the power of ‘eternity’ one step earlier than even me.

A little jealous, I raise the hammer again.

The piercing shrill persists. At this moment, coming from the ceiling of the basement… which is to say, from the floorboards of the surface, comes a knocking sound. Aah, this is the code between us ‘members’. I quickly press a switch, which means the light on the ground floor should be on.

After a while, there is another knocking sound on the floorboards.

Aah, could it be Master Szilard has finally come? If he saw the three dozen bottles of the completed product, I really don’t know what he would say to me. Then afterwards, I can finally be freed from the fear of ‘dying of old age’.

Heart pounding with anticipation, I climb to stairs and slowly open the floorboards.

Immediately, I feel a wave of hot air rush over my face as I emerge from below the floorboards.

What’s this?

Seeing the source of knocking noise shocked me.

By the wall, he collapsed sections of the shelves make the knocking sound as they hit the ground one by one.

And the other side of the room is painted a brilliant red by the fire in here.

Why. Why is it always now? Why must it be now of all times that a fire starts!

There’s nothing on the floor that’s flammable!

The wine… I must take the wine out… I hurriedly descend the stars, and lift up the crate of the ‘complete product’… I can’t! It’s too heavy, it’s impossible for one person to carry all out by themselves!

Although I have now obtained immortal flesh, but there has been no change to my strength.

Just a little… Just that little bit and I can complete my own, unique evolution… The evolved me is precisely this… A tiny, insignificant speck who can’t even lift 36 bottles of wine!

--aa --- someone-- someone come-- someone --!

-

“Ah… Can you come here for a second, Mr. Maiza?”

On hearing Firo’s shout from the outside, Maiza peeked out of the fruit store.

“What is the matter… ah!”

Above the roofs of the houses, just across the road from the store, rose a column of grey smoke. The distance between the store and that place wasn’t far. It looked like they were only two streets apart.

“I’ll go take a look.”

“Aah, it’s best if you don’t stir up trouble. If by any chance the police come…”

Held in Firo’s hand was the illegally-produced wine just bought from the black Mikeet. Although they were mixed in with other goods in the box, if the police… especially Edward, discovered it, then the result would be unthinkable.

“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything silly.”

Firo didn’t look the slightest bit concerned, and walked in the direction of the incident while waving at Maiza.

“Aah, aah, this aspect of you needs to be changed after the ‘ceremony’…”

Maiza gave a faint, bitter smile, even as he headed towards the incident.


<==>


“How can this be…”

Ennis got off the car, and when she saw the dense smoke billowing into the sky, she almost though she went the wrong way. But now she wished she really had been mistaken.

But the tragic reality was that the sign on two-storey building burning before her eyes read “Barnes Company Granary”. The cool expression on her face when she was facing those old men was gone. She never thought something this serious would happen.

“Just what happened… How is Master Barnes…?”

The young driver pushed aside the spectators to stand in front of the crowd. Although all the people were irritated by the driver’s actions, their attention was immediately drawn back to the fire, so no one stopped her, or even complained.

The collapse of inner structure of the building could be clearly seen from the outside. Even from a distance, it was obvious quite a few places on the ground floor have caved in. However, if as usual the ‘complete product’ was kept in the basement, even if she were to rush inside now… it wasn’t possible to retrieve the product.

Utter despair. How was she supposed to report to Master Szilard? Even if she was not the slightest bit responsible for what had happened, her heart could not be heavier. Master Szilard would definitely not have an angry expression, but it was certain he would show his displeasure. And in addition to the above, those old men were certain to despair many more times than she did, making her heart ache.

“…-iss, miss!”

When she felt the hand on her shoulder, Ennis came out of her reverie.

Standing before her eyes was a young man, who was around the same age as her or possibly younger by a little.

“Are you all right? Your face is pale…”

Ennis understood that this young man with mature speech was worrying about her.

Was she really so shaken as to reveal her feelings so openly? Ennis hurriedly sorted out her emotions and answered as though there was nothing special,

“Ah… No, nothing’s the matter… Thank you for your concern.”

After she said these words she turned to push through the crowds and squeezed out.

Perhaps Barnes escaped. When she thought of that she felt the need to search the surrounding streets, and so quickly picked an alleyway and disappeared within.