MaruMA:Volume16:Chapter 4

Chapter 4

On the boat that’s rocking along on the canal waters, Murata speaks up,

“I remember there’s also a saying that ‘the first to run is the first to win’—”

His tone isn’t stern, and there’s even a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Didn’t I say it before? Why must we run? Doesn’t running prove we’re guilty? I obviously didn’t steal anything, I was framed. Why on earth would a victim have to run?”

We’re riding on a small boat that can move smoothly even in a narrow canal, known as gondolas in Venice. But the guests sitting on the boat aren’t here to sightsee, and neither is there robust singing coming from the stern.

Even if it’s not wide enough for them to send extra guards, there are still soldiers in full arms in front and behind us, keeping watch. Add that to the fact that Lord von Voltaire demonstrated a bit of his skill, and the local soldiers are even warier of us.

Since we’ve already decided to protest our innocence with the local authorities, we have no intention of escaping, hiding or resisting, but we can’t gain their trust with words alone.

Although this is a canal for gondolas, it’s a water transport route that draws water from the sea. Logically speaking, there should be sea creatures swimming around in the water, and as though reading my mind, a few of them jump out of the water on cue, splashing water everywhere.

I wonder what happened to that sardine boy.

Although we always hear about shepherd boys, it’s still rare to hear about sardine boys after all, Besides, I don’t think he’s old enough to be called that yet. After all, all I saw was the back of his curly golden-brown hair, so even if I have the chance to see him again, I’m not confident I could recognize him.

“If I have the chance to see him again… it’s probably impossible, huh?”

I can’t help but say self-deprecatingly at my own naïve thoughts.

I actually imagined that the boy might show up at the police station or court one day, and prove our innocence.

“What’s the matter?”

Gwendal asks, from where he’s sitting in front of me and leaning against the side of the boat.

“Nothing.”

His hands are tied behind his back, and he almost can’t move his upper body freely at all. As for the harmless Murata and I, all we have are our hands tied in front of us. They think Lord von Voltaire might be a little impressive, so they restrict his freedom severely.

The truth is he’s not just a little bit impressive, he’s so impressive that even if you people sent fifty men to attack him, they still wouldn’t be his match. Seeing him tied up all obediently like that, makes me feel really sorry for him.

He probably feels really discontent with it.

“Speaking of which… Gwen, don’t you feel uncomfortable?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“I mean, don’t you guys get dizzy on human land because of houryoku?”

His hair is plastered onto his drying face and forehead, so I push it away with my index finger in case it tickles him. It’s also my fault that he can’t even push away his own hair now.

“Weren’t you uncomfortable last time as well? When we went to Sverera to find the Demon Flute.”

“Ahh.”

That’s right, that time we were also handcuffed and thrown into a detention center, and he sure suffered a lot as he was spun around in circles. I’m not sure if it’s because we just happened to think of the same thing, but we instantly fall silent. Looks like whenever he goes on a trip with me, nothing good ever comes to Lord von Voltaire.

“Wolf’s condition is more obvious. Because his face would immediately turn white, but your resistance is stronger.”

“I don’t feel any particular change, maybe because this land has weaker houryoku.”

“That’s good to know.”

Maybe it’s because my body is MADE IN JAPAN, but I rarely feel dizzy even on human land. Even if I stumble a bit, I recover quickly too, and then I can live normally like a regular person. This must be because I adapt very well, huh. No matter what kind of soil I’m on, I never lose my appetite, and I can sleep fine even after changing pillows, though maybe it’s because I’m denser than others.

“But thank goodness, Gwen didn’t use his sword. If he were to really fight with the soldiers back then, we definitely won’t be treated as mere thieves.”

“Even if he wanted to use it, he doesn’t have a sword.”

Murata finally talks again after quite a while of silence. As expected of the brainy type, he notices even such tiny details.

“Eh, is that so? Now that you mention it, I just remembered that just now while we were hiding under the shirt, there was nothing stuck at his waist.”

“Which idiot in the world would bring a sword while diving into the sea to save a drowning person.”

“You’re right, that would make him more likely to sink.”

Speaking of sinking, those missuses did say some things I couldn’t help but notice. I think they said ‘how should we continue living before this country sinks?’

Don’t tell me this country is in a recession? That’s why a boy not even ten years old has to resort to stealing pickled plum stones.

“But Lord von Voltaire sure gave me a shock, pushing Shibuya to me like that. You wanted me to protect Shibuya, was it? It’s the first time in my life someone asked me to protect another.”

“Eh!?”

I really can’t pretend I didn’t hear that.

This may even be the first time Murata and Gwen talked to each other normally. In order to let them understand each other better, to be honest I shouldn’t interrupt. But even though I know I shouldn’t, I subconsciously interrupt anyway,

“You said ‘protect’… Was that what the movement meant? No way, it should mean, ‘go, run’, right?”

“Eh—Shibuya, back then that is what Lord von Voltaire’s gaze meant—”

“Wait a sec, does Murata look stronger than me? Gwendal, tell me honestly, do I look that useless to you?”

“It’s not that either.”

“I’m so happy—It feels like I finally passed my Bruce Lee-Level One Certification. I just leveled up recently, y’know!”

“What--!?”

Seeing the eyes behind those lenses narrow in delight, I feel a little upset. To think I look even more useless than my brainiac friend, then doesn’t that mean there’s no point in me choosing to learn judo at all?

By the way, the reason I didn’t choose to learn kendo is because whenever I hold a stick in my hands I’ll swing it like a baseball bat; and the reason why I didn’t choose tennis is because whenever I see a ball, I have the urge to hit it to the moon.

Those are all basic human instincts, so I can’t control them. After all, everyone wants to be a hard hitter at least once.

“That’s why I said it’s not like that.”

“…Too late, I’ll try my best to train up my muscles more.”

“But thanks to that, I really understand Lord von Voltaire’s thoughts now.”

The person who just passed the Bruce Lee Level One Certification pushes his glasses up with his tied-up hands, closing one eye as he says,

“For example what his priorities are.”

“You don’t have to confirm stuff like that at a time like this, right? Gwen’s number one priority has always been Shin Makoku, he would jump into burning hell for the mazoku. He’s a lot more reliable than I am, isn’t that right?”

Gwendal doesn’t reply, just staring off into the distance.

Soon, we see many buildings of different sizes ahead of the intricately criss-crossing water routes. Compared to walking on the stone roads, it is indeed much faster to use the water routes with gondolas.

“Speaking of which—” I say with a sigh,

“Just how far have we been thrown off? Come to think of it, we don’t even know the name of this country.”

If I asked the soldier sitting in front, there’s a chance he wouldn’t even answer me. But in a manner of speaking we’re the victims here, so I don’t want to have to ask the guys who tied us up either.

“Could we make a deduction from the time difference?”

“That’s related to the size of the stars as well, it’s impossible to tell if time is going fast or slow, so we still can’t deduce anything.”

Murata says that, and then continues,

“But could this be the country called ‘Darco’?”

“Eh, you know where we are?”

The intellectual nods hard,

“Since the version of the map in my brain is really old, I wouldn’t have a clue without knowing what ocean we’re at. It was the name of that ‘Sea Grape’ stone that made me remember.”

“Is that so? I always thought that was a tasty dish.”

“Darco, huh—”

Even Gwendal can’t help but mutter to himself,

“Why did we end up so far away, of all places.”

“Eh? Is it really far? Speaking of which, you should have a world map in your head, right? Where is Darco? Approximately? Which is closer, Shimaron or Seisakoku?”

“…Neither is close, Darco is opposite to Shin Makoku.”

I can’t help but ask my friend,

“Uh—When you say opposite direction, if say we’re in Japan, where would that be?”

“Brazil, I guess?”

“Brazil! The one with the Rio Carnival, that Brazil!?”

That really is very far, nothing like the distance between the Sapporo Dome and the Fukuoka Dome, huh.

Lord von Voltaire stays silent for quite a few seconds, and I get a bad feeling.

“Darco has no diplomatic ties with us.”

“How could that be? Gwen, aren’t there too many countries we don’t have diplomatic ties with?”

“You’re probably right.”

This makes me, the rookie Maou, ashamed to meet people.

The gondola shakes violently, and the three of us sway accordingly. By the way, the sun that had been hanging high in the sky set at some point, and the afternoon sky is starting to approach evening.

“But Shibuya shouldn’t reprimand him either, right? You weren’t king for that long, were you? That’s why he… Lord von Voltaire also only recently came into power.”

“You. Are. Exactly. Right.”

“Okay, okay, just work on it next time, work on it next time.”

Of course I know that, and I had no intention of scolding Gwen.

After all, I don’t have any knowledge or tricks up my sleeve, so compared to me, he’s a few times, no, maybe even a few hundred times better. No, I think just comparing myself with him is an insult to him.

Me, whenever I get scolded I’ll just rely on Lord von Voltaire’s abilities, throwing all the administrative duties to him, so I have no right to complain.

But what I’m more concerned about is how Murata is suddenly saying such things to suck up to Gwen. Could it be that he was that happy to receive the Bruce Lee-Level One Certification? But that sound like a shady correspondence course.

Forget it, as the saying goes, ‘it’s a good thing to improve relationships’.

I convince myself with those words, and then start collecting the intel I need right now.

“Then what kind of a country is Darco? We can understand the language here, and everyone speaks really politely, so I’m kinda surprised.”

“It’s that thing, the thing called geographical differences. For example on Earth, if an American heard a British person speaking English, they would think that person is pretentious as well, right?”

Their politeness is so weird I suspect ‘is it really just that degree of difference?’, but my friend’s theory does have a certain persuasiveness as well.

“But geographically speaking, rather than Britain, it’s more like Venice, right? It’s just, how is the political situation on the city on the water like? You know, whether they often have restriction orders or warnings about leaving the country.”

The truth is we were hauled onto shore by a fishing boat, and even caught by the army who are equal to police, so I think there’s no way for us to gather any intel now.

“Even I don’t know what kind of a country it is now.”

“What did you say? Don’t you know the name and culture of this place?”

“I can’t help it, my soul was on Earth for more than 3000 years. So all I know are things from before that. As for the way the world is now, you should know better than I do. Wait, but it changed drastically because of you as well, right? Changed for the better, I mean.”

“Yes…”

Even I don’t know if I should say, ‘No, what are you talking about’ to refuse it, or scratch my head and say, ‘Is that so~~’ After all, my hands are tied up and can’t move. But from what I can see, I see Gwendal’s expression with the corners of his lips lifted slightly, throwing my mind into a blank.

He’s laughing at me, right?

I can’t figure out any other reason for his reaction, so I immediately change the subject, hoping to hide this awkwardness,

“B-but you’re really impressive too, staying there for 3000 years? Then you should know who founded the Kamakura shogunate, right?”

“It’s Minamoto no Yoritomo.”

“Waa—Not Ashikaga Takauji?”

“It was written in the Japanese history textbook. I say, Shibuya, I’m telling you this now, because it’d be very troubling if others misunderstood me. Even if I have memories of the past, I can’t possibly know who killed Kennedy. Because I wasn’t in America back then.”

Although he’s not replying in tandem, Lord von Voltaire sure is listening with interest.

On the other hand, the soldiers watching us aren’t listening to our conversation at all. Maybe they realized that we have no intention of running, so they’re busy doing their own thing, be it pulling out the little thorns on their nails or checking their blades for nicks.

To them, it’s no longer important what we prisoners are saying.

Thanks to these soldiers’ nonchalance, we’re very grateful for the treatment we’re getting.

“Listen carefully, all I experienced in the past is other lives. And the only reason those memories have lingered in my brain, is just because they’re the things the previous owners of my soul saw or heard before.”

“Of course I know that.”

Something jumps up again beside the boat, and this time I can obviously see it’s a fish. That’s a little red fish that a child’s palm can easily scoop up, its appearance and size similar to goldfish on Earth, only it’s a fancier species, more like telescope eye or lionhead rather than wakin.

“Three sirs—”

That intolerably polite speech comes from the stern again.

“We have arrived.”

All we can see at the end of the canal is a sprawling white and blue-gray building. Although I don’t know if it’s a police station or a courthouse, it feels obviously solemn and dark in this easygoing port city on the water. Putting aside the fact that it is a long rectangular shape with no decorations whatsoever, its extremely few windows also gets on my nerves.

That side of the wall facing the port and the sea is the direction where the sunlight comes in during the daytime, too.

But I immediately know the reason—because that is a place that does not need windows.

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