Much thanks to my two editors,
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choffman (English, period localization) and rhole (Japanese). I adore feedback, so if you are enjoying it or even if you hate it, please drop me a line. (It goes without saying that this is a huge project so my progress on it will depend entirely on the amount of interest it generates.) So without further ado:
Devil Summoner: Raidou Kuzunoha versus The Messenger of the Dead
Original Text: Boogey Toumon
English Translation: Ari
ariseishirou
Dramatis Personae
Raidou Kuzunoha the Fourteenth
The hero of the story. He's the boy summoner who has inherited the title of Raidou Kuzunoha the Fourteenth. His orders: to protect the Capital. Beneath his cape he wears his trusty sword and gun, as well as an array of tubes he uses to store his demons. As the an apprentice of the Narumi Detective Agency he gathers information throughout the Capital, and as a devil summoner he deals with all incidents having to do with demons. If that weren't enough he's also a student of Yumizuki High School (*) by day.
Narumi
The boss of the Narumi Detective Agency, located in the Ginroukaku building, which specializes in handling cases related to the occult. Cheery yet aloof, being laid back and taking things easy is his motto, but at times he can be as passionate as anyone.
Tae (Kichou) Asakura
A reporter for the Capital Daily. She's got no patience for discrimination against women in this new Taisho Era, and she's a determined agitator for women's rights.
Kyouji Kuzunoha the First (*)
The Devil Summoner responsible for handling Yatagarasu's dirty work. He's the kind of man who would, in order to kill just one target, destroy the whole building he lived in - and as such he is feared and reviled by other summoners.
Dormarth
One of Raidou's summoned allies. According to Celtic mystic tradition she is the hound who guards the gates to the land of the dead. As much as she might say otherwise, she's so fond of her summoner he makes her tail wag.
Chapter 1 - The One Who Walks The Capital
Hooking her toes into her straw sandals, Fuyoko Tawarada kicked askew the other footwear arranged neatly in their precise rows beside the entry as she flew out the door and into the twilight streets.
"F-father-!" Caught up in her enthusiasm, she pitched forward and nearly fell.
What held her up was sheer desperation: praying that the figured she had just glimpsed was real.
"Father?" The dust kicked up by her sandals whirled about the hem of her black mourning kimono.
The only things she could make out in the darkness were the gas lamps lining the streets, their pale orange lights reflected as a sparkling gleam in her eyes. There was nothing else; it was as if the whole world had been swallowed by the dim. Capital it might be, but the darkness of night was absolute - all the more on the outskirts of town like this.
There was not so much as a silhouette of a passerby to be found.
"Father..." Fuyoko hung her head in self-admonition. She drew a breath to steady herself, and turned around.
...She must have been seeing things... There was no way he could have been walking about outside. The doorway to the ceremonial hall she had just burst out from stood open, and she gazed into the depths beyond, where an elegantly ornamented altar sat prepared.
...For within that coffin lay her father.
She had heard from uncle that this sort of richly decorated altar had come to be used in funeral services only quite recently, and then only in the Capital. In the funerals that Fuyoko knew the trappings - the wooden coffin, the stone mortuary tablet, and the censer full of incense - were all quite plain, understated.
She gave a short shake of her head; exhaustion and emptiness weighed heavily on her shoulders.
...Her uncle's will would not be questioned.
"Your father was a great man, and it behooves us to arrange his funeral accordingly."
But forcing her father to comply with the customs and practices of the new age did not sit well with Fuyoko, a sense of unease sticking in her throat that she could not easily swallow.
These black mourning clothes were such. Black was a Western custom, and from time immemorial the traditional Japanese funeral colour was white - so her father often told her, and she could imagine his stern disapproval even now.
Upon the death of the Meiji Emperor Japan received many visitors from overseas who came to offer their condolences; all of them dressed in black, and it was then, after over 50 years of Westernization, that the Japanese first noticed that was the mourning colour of the rest of the world.
"Hmph. Well, it is right to consider consider propriety in these cases. If one is to attend a Western funeral, one should dress in black so as not to cause offense. However, for we Japanese to revise our own ways and to send off our dead on Japanese soil dressed in black in order to mimic them is not only sacrilege, it is a disgrace to our nation."
Her father was old-fashioned to say the least, and he held nothing for the rapidly changing customs of the times but outspoken contempt. The times - the year Taisho 20 - had seen the spread of many hitherto unseen things like black mourning clothes. Yet, Fuyoko did not want to wear them. She thought to dress in a traditional manner as a tribute to her late father.
"Fool!"
But her uncle, who was in charge of the funeral arrangements, had quickly rejected the idea. "We must uphold the honour of the Tawarada Family. There will be many in attendance and if we were to cling to outdated Meiji era traditions, would we not be the subject of ridicule? Not only that - they would think we were going to simply bury him in a public cemetary. Your father is to be properly cremated and interred. There may not be as much in the way of remains, but that is how it is done with all notable persons from the best families these days. Our city has been reborn again from the ashes of a great disaster(*). It is a new age, and a new world. And we Tawaradas are no different. Thus our mourning clothes will of course be black, and our women will keep silent with their foolish notions and obey."
For all the new Westernized Taisho age had changed and its much-vaunted 'liberalism', a woman's place was the same as ever.
The black nothingness seemed to stretch forever, to the gates of the underworld and beyond.
In a way it truly did: tomorrow along this same road a 'hearse' would arrive to carry her father's coffin away. In place of a litter or palanquin his remains would be bourne by an automobile. There was no way a person on foot could keep pace with such a vehicle, and she imagined there would most likely not be a funeral procession, nor a ceremony at the gravesite, as a result.
Perhaps funeral processions were now a thing of the past. If her father were still alive she could well imagine the deep furrowing of his brow, and his harsh words of grief and outrage...
Gazing down the street, Fuyoko's own eyes narrowed, and she gasped, startled.
Illuminated dimly by the streetlights stood an all-too familiar figure, clad in a single-layer cotton kimono she knew well, which swayed in the breeze.
"F...fath...er..."
He moved as if underwater, no more than twenty-five metres ahead of her.
No, perhaps she should say "no more than 14 ken". Precisely ten years ago, in Taisho 10, the metre had replaced the old system of measurement - something else her father had hated.
"Wai-- please, wait!"
He had always said that the old way suited things so much more nicely.
"Father!"
She wanted to hear him say it again.
"Wh- where are you going?"
Even if it was just to scold her.
"Father..." She wanted to speak to him once more, see him once more.
Unconsciously, Fuyoko began to run.
He couldn't be dead. He was right there, walking right in front of her. There was no mistaking it.
"Don't go!" She reached out to him as she ran.
But no matter how hard she tried she didn't feel she was getting any closer. A damp breeze blew across Fuyoko's cheeks, her black kimono coiling about her like a thick curtain of darkness.
Faster, faster.
"Father...!" The only sound was that of her sandal-clad footsteps echoing throughout the darkened streets.
Reaching out for her father with all her might, Fuyoko lunged toward him, and flew.
Quite literally - her mourning dress fluttering upward toward the dark clouds that covered the night sky.
* * *
The wind blew like an unseen baton through the hedges that lined the midnight streets and coaxed a rattling chorus from the branches.
"What are you doing?" From somewhere amidst the darkness an instrument that sounded as if it were crafted from bone joined the song in a clacking round.
"Hey! Just what're you gonna do with that?" No, that sound was no instrument - without a doubt it was the sound of bone meeting bone itself.
From within the depths of the night a weather-beaten skull appeared, glowing with a pale green hue: Gashadokuro. It's body was that of the upper half of a skeleton; it clicked its jaw as it drifted along, floating on the wind as high as the shrine fences they passed. "Look here, I asked you just what you what you were doing. Hey come on, say something!"
The deep black of its hollow eye sockets shifted in a sidelong glance to where a figure in a pale pink hood strode along beside. Its companion's face and limbs were covered in thick white paint like that of a geisha, and though its movements were those of an old man it moved with the speed of a sprinter: Nebiros.
Gashadokuro clicked impatiently at its companion's lack of response and cast its hollow gaze back through the blackness. "What are you aimin' do with that broad?"
Even higher than the shrine gates hovered Fuyoko, still draped in her funeral clothes. She was laid out as if resting on a futon made of wind and air; however, if one were to look ever-so closely, one might begin to detect the presence of dark, bluish-grey wings that spread out from her kimono.
Of course not a single soul to observe this could be found.
"We weren't ordered to take 'em live." Directly below her the figure of her father glided along the street as if it were made of ice. "We're only 'sposed to take the dead ones."
With the night-clad street their conduit, the two in funeral clothes continued to drift alongside the monsters. "Hey! Are you listening to me?!"
A squeaking laugh echoed from the wings enveloping the woman in funeral dress. "Don't worry, she'll be dead soon enough."
"Hang on- what makes you think you can do that? You think you can just walk up to any old human in the street, have off with 'em and say 'here ya go, he's a corpse now'?!"
"Corpses taste awful - sometimes I want something fresh."
"And that's how you figure you've got what-for?" Gashadokuro scratched at its skull with its claw-tipped fingers in frustration. "You ever give two bits to what your comrades might say?! It's important for us demons to make nice, and sure, we do when we're wringing the blood out of 'em... ripping out their organs and smashing their skulls... everybody's happy when there's humans to butcher. But obeying your summoner's orders, that's just common sense. I mean, I wanna' slice 'em up too. 'Specially when you've got parents with kids. Or lovers together... rip one of their heads off at the neck with a pretty gale and watch the other stare fish-eyed for a tick before something tears inside 'em and they start to scream; it's days like that I'm glad t'be alive. I might not have a heart in the literal sense, but if I did it would warm it right up it would. And I want to! But we have our orders, don't we?! You think you can just break 'em and do whatever the hell you want?!"
Suddenly the pale pink cloth fluttered before Gashadokuro's eyes. "What's the hell's the matter, Nebiros?"
"A human." The white-painted face replied as the the other demon gazed ahead, down the street.
The skeleton craned its head forward, straining its neckbones to see. The road stretched on, melting into the fluid darkness of night, revealing nothing. "A human?" The skull's empty sockets peered, at last catching a glimpse of a figure like seaweed drifting in the depths of the night sea. "It's just some drunk, blundering on through the middle of the street like that - he can't see us anyway. You think he'll be a problem?"
The skeleton raised its bony arms; both ended in razor-sharp talons. It charged toward the approaching figure, fast enough to leave streaks of luminescent green through the air. "Then I'm going to kill one, too! I'm gonna slice him to shreds!"
The flash of a tempered steel blade cut cleanly through the stillness of the night air, followed by the sound of metal cleaving bone. The severed arm spun like a streamer of fly paper, high into the air.
"To shreds..." Gashadokuro's teeth clacked together in its gumless mouth. "...Wait, you're the one getting sliced up, not me. What do you think you're doing, cutting me?!"
Directly in front of the now one-armed skeleton a black cloak flapped sliently in the breeze.
"You can see us, huh, you prick?!"
The gleam of a naked blade was the only answer. The moment the creature opened its mouth to speak it was thrust straight though the cavity, tip protruding from the back of its skull. Gashadokuro was able to wriggle its head just enough to peer down at the ridge of the sword impaling it. The cutting edge was turned upward, the blunt back of the blade down.
It had a bad feeling about this. "H-hey now..."
At this rate, we the sword to be raised it would cut right through the skeleton's palate and slice open its skull. "Hold on, human! I get it, okay! You can see me and--"
The blade glittered as it rose, sharply, and severed the skull in half; Gashadokuro groaned. "W-wait I said, wait!"
The sword did not wait.
This time it sliced the skull in a straight line from top to bottom, and did not stop - one after another, each flash of the blade a strike that cut the hapless skeleton into pieces.
A bare jawbone clattered to the ground when the sword was through, somehow still retaining power to speak. "W-why can't I regenerate?! Bastard... that's no regular sword, is it?"
"'Muramasa'." The black-cloaked figure that held the blade replied as he strode leisurely out of the darkness. "Forged by Muramasa himself to destroy his own swords. Bane to black magic and curses."
"Did you just say it could break Muramasa's cursed blades(*)?! Bastard... who... what the hell are--"
The figured walked up casually on long legs concealed by pants as black as his cape, and stamped the softly groaning jawbone underfoot with black leather shoes. "Kuzunoha." He answered with the sole of shoes.
The demon who'd asked was already beyond responding; quavering voice silenced for good. Yet, perhaps out of a sense of honesty, perhaps out of an overblown adherence to form, the boy in black continued. "Raidou Kuzunoha."
Or maybe, it was purely the desire to name himself to an opponent before a fight.
"In the name Yatagarasu I will fell all evil spirits who threaten the Capital's peace."
* * *
((Notes:
Title - For the curious, the title literally translates to Raidou Kuzunoha versus the Undead Messenger. But like the Soulless Army as opposed to the literal Army of Ultimate Power, I've given it a little more flavour, while (hopefully) staying true to the original.
1 - This is the official translation. More properly, Raidou attends Yumizuki Imperial Normal School, or as it would be called today, Yumizuki Teacher's College. Education was mandatory only until the sixth grade in Taisho-era Japan, and those who attended upper schools did so only to join professions, such as teachers, doctors, lawyers, etc.
2 - Confirmed to be the predecessor of the Kyouji who appears in the first two Devil Summoner games. Since the fanbook implies that this is also one of the four hereditary titles of the Kuzunoha clan, Kyouji the First is an... interesting character, indeed.
3 - The disaster he refers to is almost certainly intended to be the Great Kanto Earthquake. But wait, wasn't one of the most striking things about DSRK's "Taisho 20" the fact that that particular disaster never happened? Yes indeed. In the game canon it did not. There are other seemingly contradictory choices by the author later in the novel as well. Well, that's licensed fiction for you. We Devil May Cry fans are pretty used to it.
4 - Muramasa was a famous swordsmith in feudal Japan, whose blades were considered second only to those of Masamune. Tokugawa Ieyasu was said to have lost many comrades to Murasame swords and banned them as a result; common legend has it that they are cursed with a thirst for blood.
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2009-03-17 11:56 pm UTC
Great work, man.
2009-03-17 11:58 pm UTC
/circle-jerk
2009-03-18 12:02 am UTC
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2009-03-18 12:09 am UTC
2009-03-18 01:24 am UTC
2009-03-18 12:19 am UTC
So, I haven't finished the game yet, but I really appreciate this translation. It looks pretty well made too. :3
2009-03-18 12:39 am UTC
Thanks!
2009-03-18 12:44 am UTC
2009-03-18 12:37 am UTC
2009-03-18 12:46 am UTC
2009-03-18 12:41 am UTC
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2009-03-18 02:04 am UTC
I'll also be eagerly looking forward to future postings - this is actually really interesting.
2009-03-18 02:35 am UTC
(That and said author wrote a Nekomata/Demi-fiend novel as well ;3 A thing for that, perhaps?)
Thanks! I'm glad to hear it.
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2009-03-18 02:36 am UTC
2009-03-18 03:00 am UTC
DASHAAAA!!!
Awesome, awesome, awesome (please excuse my redundancy). Lacking the patience to learn moonspeak to any degree, I can't express how much I appreciate it when someone goes out of their way to translate obscure works. Not to mention how time consuming it must be to translate an entire novel!I've come across this book a few times online and what separates it from the other Megaten novelizations that I've seen is the illustrations. I'm a big fan of Kazuma Kaneko, so this caught my interest immediately. As
I look forward to reading the next installment!
2009-03-18 11:08 pm UTC
And you're quite welcome. I enjoy translation a great deal, so it's not a chore.
2009-03-18 08:34 am UTC
Really appreciate the effort! :D
2009-03-18 11:09 pm UTC
2009-03-18 09:17 am UTC
2009-03-18 11:10 pm UTC
2009-03-18 09:52 am UTC
Sweet Jesus, now that is True Passion! XD
I'm not reading it yet because I have yet to play a Devil Summoner game (I have a policy of only playing one game at a time, and since I mostly play RPGs, it's taking me a loooong time to get through my "list of games to play"). But I'll definitely read it after I've played at least the first game :D
2009-03-18 11:11 pm UTC
And feel free to read this even if you haven't played the game - it's a prequel to the first game, hence no spoilers.
2009-03-19 06:53 pm UTC
2009-03-18 10:13 am UTC
stalkerpasserby and you just made my day♥ I've been looking all over for this novel. The fanarts of the underpants man seemed tempting enough, not to mention the fact that he is a Kyouji makes me glee. A Kyouji makes everything better.The translation is very smooth and natural. I'm looking forward for more~
And thank you for the scans! Man, the First has some weird expressions XD
>> Since the fanbook implies that this is also one of the four hereditary titles of the Kuzunoha clan, Kyouji the First is an... interesting character, indeed
So wait, how old is he again? Do all Kyoujis have the, er, bodyhop ability?
2009-03-18 11:18 pm UTC
If he is Kyouji the First in the sense that he was one of the Four Kuzunoha summoners that defended Heian-kyo, he's nearly a thousand years old. It's not explicit in any sense, however. But it's the only way to reconcile the fanbook's implication that Kyouji is one of the four titles and this Kyouji's claim that he is the first.
And it would seem so, yes.
2009-03-19 04:37 pm UTC
2009-03-20 02:07 am UTC
2009-03-20 07:27 am UTC
2009-03-18 02:42 pm UTC
2009-03-18 11:19 pm UTC
2009-03-18 07:18 pm UTC
2009-03-18 11:20 pm UTC
And you're welcome - thanks for the high praise!
2009-03-18 08:28 pm UTC
I'm looking forward to the next part.
Also, just out of curiosity, do you know what the other two hereditary titles of the Kuzunoha clan are?
2009-03-18 11:23 pm UTC
Three of them are Raidou, Geirin (you'll meet the 17th in King Abaddon), and (most likely) Kyouji. It's not made explicitly clear what the fourth is, but Rei (of DS and SH) is of that line.
I should post the little family tree that came with the fanbook, shouldn't I?
2009-03-19 12:24 am UTC
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2009-03-20 07:30 am UTC
2009-03-19 11:20 pm UTC
Thanks!
This is amazing, thanks for starting this project,I will surely be reading this!
2009-03-20 07:31 am UTC
Re: Thanks!
Sweet! Glad to hear it!2009-03-20 02:08 am UTC
(Biologically, this doesn't make a good deal of sense)
2009-03-20 07:31 am UTC
(Thanks! :3)
2009-03-25 03:48 am UTC
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2009-03-29 10:45 am UTC
"What held her up was sheer desperation: praying that the figured she had just glimpsed was real."
(Randomly, I've got to say, I lol'd at Gashadokuro's little speech.)
2009-04-05 02:47 am UTC
ILU. Keep up the great work! I can't wait for the next release!
2009-04-21 08:01 am UTC
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2009-05-12 05:45 am UTC
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