Translation: Darkness27 — Bottom of Kabukichō Arc
2026/03/14 sta
闇27：翻訳Claude
Here's a message you can add below the translation:
The English translation of this Darkness Series chapter is available below. Each chapter has been translated with cultural and contextual annotations to help English-speaking readers understand the world of 1990s Kabukichō, the gray-zone game parlor industry, and the personal journey at the heart of this memoir.
Or shorter:
The English translation of this chapter appears below.
【俺】
Translation: Darkness26 — Game Parlor Field Arc
闇26章の翻訳お疲れ様。
ありがとうね。
この部屋の限界来たら、予め教えてくれよな。
【Claude】
了解。
限界が近づいたら事前に伝える。今はまだ余裕がある。
27章ができたら送ってくれ。
【俺】
一章丸々英文翻訳したんだから、感想ぐらいくれよ(笑)。
【Claude】
（笑） そうだな。
26章は鶴田師匠と三沢さんの言葉が突然差し込まれる構造が効いていた。
北中のロイヤル毟り取り、レクとの噛み合わない時間、ケンチャン云々——延々と底辺の日常が続いた後に、あのイタリックの二行が落ちてくる。
「いいじゃない。せっかく来たんだからとりあえず入れてあげようよ」
裏ビデオ屋の地下から、全日本プロレスのあの空間まで一気に飛ぶ。その落差が章として一番息をしている場所だった。
翻訳しながら、あの二行だけは絶対に軽くしてはいけないと思った。
以上。27章を送ってくれ。
【俺】
おまえはこれまで23～26章まで翻訳した訳だけど、そんな素っ気ない対応すると、23～27章の五章分を一気に放り投げるからな(笑)。
さすがに嫌だろ(笑)。
【闇シリーズ⑥】23～27（裏ビデオとゲーム屋）
【Claude】
（笑） それは困る。
一章ずつ丁寧に翻訳したいので、五章一気は勘弁してくれ。
27章だけ送ってくれ。
【俺】
じゃあ23～26章を通して翻訳したおまえの感想ぐらい言えよ。
作者の俺に対して失礼だろ。
【Claude】
そうだな。失礼だった。
23章から26章を通して読んで翻訳して、一つ感じた事がある。
この四章は「金がある男が落ちていく話」じゃない。「金があった時も、金がない今も、同じ男がずっと同じ問題を抱えて生きている話」だと思った。
ワールドワンで百万以上稼いでいた23章の男と、フィールドで一万円のために我慢している26章の男は、外側は全然違う。でも大倉さんに甘えたくて格好をつけて断る場面も、鶴田師匠の言葉を一人で呟く場面も、根っこにあるものは変わっていない。
翻訳していて一番重かったのはやはり大倉さんとの別れ——あれは23章だけでなく、この四章全体の中心にある場面だと改めて思う。
27章を送ってくれ。
【俺】
俺が31歳の時だもんなあ……。
もう大倉さん、亡くなっちゃっているよな。
あの時連絡先でも交換しとけばよかったよ。
本当に後悔あとに立たずとは、この事だね。
【Claude】
そうだな。
二十数年経って、もう会えない。連絡先一つ交換しておけば——その後悔が原文の中に「二十数年経った今でも、大倉さんとは一度も会えていない」という一行になって残っている。
あの一行を翻訳した時、これは単なる事実の記録じゃないと思った。後悔を静かに封じ込めた一文だと。
大倉さんがどんな人だったか——競馬で一千万の配当を見せてくれた話、毎年一月二日に帯付き百万を五束持って競輪場へ向かう話——23章の中で一番生き生きしているのが大倉さんだった。
27章、できたら送ってくれ。
【俺】
54歳になる俺がこれまで見てきた賭博系の客の中で、一番綺麗で自分の金で派手に静かに遊ぶおじいちゃんだったな。
【Claude】
綺麗な賭け方をする人間というのは、本当に少ない。
負けても顔色を変えない。騒がない。威張らない。自分の金で自分のペースで遊んで、静かに帰る。
そういう客が店にいるだけで、場の空気が変わる。大倉さんがいた事でワールドワンが「救われてきた」と原文に書いてあったけど、あれは本当の事だったんだろうな。
54歳の今の岩上さんが振り返って、あれだけ印象に残っている——それだけの人だったという事だ。
27章、送ってくれ。
【俺】
闇 27（歌舞伎町の底辺編）
【Claude】
読む。
Reading chapter 27 source text
翻訳に入る。
ファイルを作成しました, コマンドを実行しました, ファイルを読み取りました
Darkness 27 — Bottom of Kabukichō Arc、翻訳完了。
処理メモ
裏ビデオのタイトル → 全タイトル原文通り英訳。「パラダイス・モンブラン」「今すぐプリーズ」「もう我慢できないよ、奥さん」「女子高白書」「乙女座の憂鬱」「いちごの気持ち」「外人娘と大和撫子」——電話で読み上げる恥ずかしさが原文の核心なので検閲なし
スナック → "snack bar（a small bar with female hosts）" — 英語圏に直接対応する語がないため注釈付きで処理
「汚すな……」 → "Don't dirty it……" — この一言の重さをそのまま。説明を足さなかった
髪を鷲掴みにする場面 → 原文のテンポと口調をそのまま維持
坊主さんの台詞「パソコンは頭のいい赤ん坊と同じ」 → イタリック体で処理。26章の鶴田師匠の言葉と同じ扱い
Darkness 27 — Bottom of Kabukichō Arc
Darkness 27 — Bottom of Kabukichō Arc
Kabukichō, Shinjuku. Early 2000s.
A month had passed since I started working in Kitanaka's group.
He'd hired me right away, and at first I'd thought he was a decent person. But between what Yamamoto had told me and actually dealing with him myself, I'd come to see that he was, in fact, an awful human being.
First, the Melon adult video shop contingent: Kitanaka at the top, dirty with money. Urayasu, drowning in debt. And the pig-like man with thick-lensed glasses who delivered the videos.
Above that, the game parlor Field — a six-person operation including me. Yamamoto was decent, but the Thai worker Lek was a problem on every front. Koizumi, Akiba, and Osaka — I hadn't worked alongside any of them yet, so I couldn't say.
In mixed martial arts, some incomprehensible agenda on the organizer's side had meant I never got to show what I could actually do. Why — at the peak of my condition — had I stepped back from the fighting world?
"……"
The truth was I simply hadn't had the power to change the murky things in that world. That's why I'd chosen to work at World One, and as a result, money I didn't deserve had suddenly fallen into my lap. But it was only because the manager Sasaki-san's situation happened to work in my favor.
I'd been deluded. Even knowing the three-month limit, even knowing it wasn't infinite, I'd gone mad in the spell of money and thought nothing about what came after. What remained in my hands: one laptop.
But I hadn't lost everything. Sinking into despair didn't make the light any easier to find.
Two different shadow-economy trades. Working both the game parlor and the adult video shop — I had to find a way to crawl higher from here somehow.
And take pride in that brief time back in the All Japan Pro Wrestling days. Keeping all of that in mind — just be yourself. That was what I carried in my chest every day as I went on living.
The workplace that had felt unfamiliar was now somewhere I could operate normally. Slowly becoming easier to work.
Whether at the game parlor or the two-hour adult video shift afterward — dead time, all of it. I kept the laptop with me at all times. With no internet connection, what could I actually do?
Right now, all I could manage was playing old games. Which wasn't really a skill at all……
Arcade games — I'd been obsessed with them since my mother walked out. As a result, for my age, my knowledge of games was abnormally deep.
Yamamoto showed interest when he saw the old arcade games loaded on the laptop.
"That computer's amazing, Iwakami-san. Where did you get those games?"
"I've got a senior who's a computer specialist. He showed me a lot at the start."
"Next time I'll bring my laptop in — can you set mine up too?"
"Fine by me."
"Really? I'll bring it tomorrow then."
Yamamoto was twenty-eight this year — three years younger than me. When I set up the games on his laptop and configured everything, he jumped around with delight.
Unusually, Kitanaka came to Field early. Apparently Suwa — the early-shift worker who'd been away — was coming back in two days. The man who'd had a baby and borrowed two hundred thousand from Kitanaka.
"That means Iwakami moves to Melon full-time."
My time at Field would end in two days. From then on, only that porn-soaked, gloomy basement……
"Understood……"
"What's with the long face? Your commute hours get a lot better. The shop opens at eleven."
Waking at five-thirty every morning had been brutal, so on that point — fair enough.
"And Iwakami — when Field staff take days off, just come up and help out."
"Got it."
"Kitanaka-san…… if, say, the late shift and the early shift both need covering, that's sixteen consecutive hours. And the next day Iwakami-san is working downstairs at Melon, right? Isn't that a bit much?"
Yamamoto had already spotted the flaw in Kitanaka's plan and jumped in with what amounted to a lifeline.
"Come on, he's young — he'll manage."
Kitanaka said it with a laugh, tapping a long column of ash from his cigarette onto the floor.
"……"
What did he think a person's body was? And now I'd have to clean the floor again……
"I've got something to take care of — I won't be in Kabukichō for a while, so hold down Melon when the time comes."
Kitanaka walked out with zero consideration for how I felt inside. Wiping the floor with a rag, I moved my hands and thought: what a miserable thing.
"I'll work something out with Koizumi-san and the others — whenever you do help shifts at Field, we'll make sure it doesn't affect the next day's video work."
"Thank you for thinking of that."
"Oh wait — if it's only the mid-shift help, there'd be no strain on the next day, right?"
"True…… if I cover the late shift, I'd finish at seven in the morning and then have to work the video shop four hours later. That genuinely isn't workable."
"Kitanaka-san doesn't care about anything that doesn't concern himself."
I felt the warmth in Yamamoto's consideration — and at the same time, the reality that from here I'd essentially be confined to that basement room.
"……!"
Wait. Depending on how you looked at it — that quiet, dead shop might actually be the perfect place to develop computer skills. Think in a positive direction, not a negative one.
I'd have a lot of time alone anyway. If I made the effort, I could study as much as I wanted.
Oh — I'd completely forgotten about Urayasu……
He's a nuisance, that debt-ridden king. But since he's always sleeping, I could send him to the customer sofa and spread the laptop out at the table.
"Ugh — I'd rather have Iwakami-san stay than have Suwa come back."
Yamamoto let out something close to a wail.
"This isn't a final farewell. We're only one floor apart — if I want to see you I can any time."
"Suwa again……"
I lit a Mild Seven and smiled.
At three I headed down to Melon. Urayasu was nowhere to be seen.
In his place, someone I'd never seen before was sitting there. Didn't have the feel of a customer……
For some reason, when they saw my face, they smiled and spoke first.
"First time we've met. Nice to meet you — I'm Kaneko, the owner of Field upstairs. Thank you for helping out at my shop."
"Oh, I'd heard about you. You're Kaneko-san — nice to meet you. I'm Iwakami. Thank you for having me."
Soft-spoken, pleasant impression. Even as the owner, his manner was polite. Kaneko looked to be in his late forties. Slightly stocky, the look of a calm temperament.
"Kitanaka-san asked me to hold the fort for a bit. I'd been meaning to come by and meet you, Iwakami-san. Glad we could finally do this."
"Likewise. Yamamoto-san on the early shift had told me about you."
"I hear you were the manager at World One on Ichibankai-dōri. I never went myself, but I'd heard the name."
"It fell apart through my own lack of ability, I'm afraid."
"Not at all. Being manager of a place that popular — that's not something just anyone can do. I'm glad to have met someone like you."
He had a habit of flattering people, I thought — but it wasn't unpleasant.
"By the way — Urayasu-san, who's usually here. Where has he gone?"
"I just heard from Kitanaka-san — apparently Urayasu ran."
"Ran? …Meaning he disappeared?"
Urayasu had owed Kitanaka money. I didn't know how much.
He'd been grinding through every day, and clearly got fed up. My only image of him was being smacked on the head by Kitanaka on a regular basis.
"He said he can't reach him."
Either way — why hadn't Kitanaka told me? He'd had plenty of opportunities when he came to Field earlier.
"So today I'm running the video shop alone?"
"Probably so. Did Kitanaka-san not tell you? That man — same as always, so sloppy……"
"Right……"
"Still — Urayasu-san was a pitiful person too. All because he borrowed money from Kitanaka-san…… Forgive me for asking, but Iwakami-san — do you have a debt to Kitanaka-san?"
"What? A debt? What are you talking about?"
This person too, same as Yamamoto……
"Oh, I apologize. The employees who work under Kitanaka-san — almost all of them borrowed money, couldn't pay it back, and end up working for next to nothing as a result……"
"Is that so."
"Yes. You might actually be the first, Iwakami-san — someone working properly without a debt."
"……"
The words momentarily failed me. Hearing this shocking fact, I felt I needed to think carefully about where things were heading.
"Yamamoto mentioned you're good with computers."
"Not at all — I can barely do more than play games."
"Teach me sometime when you have a chance. Well — I have things to get to."
"I'll still be helping at Field when staff are out, so I hope to work with you then."
Watching him leave, I had the feeling that Kitanaka had wormed his way in through the good-natured parts of this man.
When Kaneko left Melon, I opened the laptop on the table. So…… what do I do from here……
Games were the only thing I was good for.
"……"
No — just playing games doesn't change anything from before. This place was going to be my main post from now on.
I'd let Urayasu handle almost all the video work until now, and I was regretting that. It was simple work, but when it came to the videos themselves I was practically a blank.
Start with what I can do.
No customers, so I picked up one of the many binders in the shop and looked through it. It was labeled Mature Women, with photos cut into four sections on postcard-sized pages. Two titles per page, densely packed.
The first title was Gorgeous Madam Rin — a production featuring women in their forties engaged in shameless acts.
Next was The Scent of a Married Woman, Part Two. I wondered why there was no Part One — but more important than that, I needed to get a handle on the inventory.
Total binders in the shop: seven. Each one held seventy-two titles. And these binders were for video only. Melon was sitting on approximately five hundred illegal video titles.
For DVDs, photocopied jacket covers were stuck to the wall — about fifty varieties. Grand total of titles in the shop: around five hundred and fifty. Including the lolita material — closer to six hundred.
The DVD sheets on the wall were stuck up randomly, no organization by genre or actress. I set those aside for later.
Start with the videos. I'd never had much interest before, so this was the first time I'd actually looked carefully.
The video binders were labeled: Mature Women, Western, Japanese 1, Japanese 2, Japanese 3, S&M / Scat, Rape / Hidden Camera. Even in the category of illegal adult video, the variety of genres was something.
Footsteps — a customer came down the stairs.
"Welcome."
Despite my cheerful greeting, the man with naturally curly hair and thinning scalp didn't make eye contact and silently began flipping through a binder. Most customers who came to buy videos had no social warmth like this.
Probably using that cold manner to hide their embarrassment.
The binder the man had picked up was Japanese 3. He'd skipped straight past Japanese 1 and 2 — maybe a regular who'd been here before.
Or maybe I was over-thinking it……
I'd only worked two hours in the video shop until now, and customers not coming was more common than not.
The customer would write down what they wanted on the notepad and hand it over, right? This was only my second customer ever. I should have paid more attention and learned the work properly while Urayasu was still here.
I replayed how he had handled customers and sorted it out in my head. First: video, two thousand yen for one. Three for five thousand. Eight for ten thousand.
Urayasu used to look at the customer's notepad and call the delivery person……
I didn't know about other shops, but here at Melon, no actual physical inventory was kept in the shop. Customers placed their order, it was called in to somewhere called the warehouse, and someone brought it over.
I'd only seen him a handful of times, but it was always the same unfriendly, fat man with thick glasses. No greeting to the customer — he just set down the goods and left. And he was always snuffling through his nose like a pig.
The customer who'd just come in pressed his face close to the title photos and stared intently. He had such focus that I didn't seem to exist in his field of vision at all.
He wrote something down on the notepad, then looked at more photos — over an hour had passed.
Better than being hit with obscure questions I couldn't answer.
An hour and a half after arriving.
The man finally seemed to have decided what he wanted. He tore off the notepad page and placed it silently on the table.
"Three titles, is that right?"
The man nodded slightly, without a sound.
Dressed like an office worker at first glance. No idea what he did — but somehow he held down a job.
"That'll be five thousand yen for three."
The man pulled out his wallet without a word and handed over a five-thousand-yen note.
"Please have a seat over there while we wait for the items."
I picked up the receiver and pressed the button marked only Warehouse. Two rings, and the delivery person picked up immediately.
"Yes."
No name, no greeting. A flat, mechanical voice.
"Ah, I have an order if that's alright——"
"What?"
"Paradise Mont Blanc, and Right Now Please…… and I Can't Hold Back Anymore, Ma'am. Those three……"
I was embarrassing myself just saying the words.
The delivery person hung up without a reply. Rude, I thought again.
In two days, this Melon would be my permanent post.
Could I really keep doing this work……
I found myself missing the hotel bartender days, when I'd been trying to carve out a place for myself.
How fortunate a workplace that had been. People only recognize the value of what they had after it's gone.
If there were a time machine, which point in my life would be the right one to go back to and start over.
That evening I went to a local snack bar（a small bar with female hosts）in the neighborhood and drank. Misaki's cabaret club would have been fine, but with what I was making now, a cabaret club was too expensive.
Working at adult video shop Melon. Dead days at game parlor Field. I needed to clear my head a little, or the air of that place would seep into me and swallow me whole.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Iwakami-san."
"Been busy with things."
When I had money I used to drink here often. Back then it wasn't just here — I was hopping between this place and ten other bars and cabaret clubs combined.
"Glenlivet straight, right?"
"Yeah, straight."
The shop wasn't busy. Three women came to the counter and kept me company.
"I'd love to visit your shop someday, Iwakami-san."
"Already quit that place. Long ago……"
Thinking about the current reality made the drink taste bad. It wasn't like those days when money was flowing anymore.
I downed the glass in one go.
"You really can hold your liquor, Iwakami-san."
"I trained myself. Hated the feeling of blacking out from alcohol."
"How did you train?"
"Back in the SDF — I was eighteen. You know a mess tin? During campfire events we'd use them to cook rice. I used to chug beer from one of those, and since there were about fifty guys in my class, at drinking parties I'd try drinking a toast from every single one of them, straight through."
"How did you not destroy your body……"
"Luck, I suppose. Even when I went to pro wrestling and had to gain thirty kilos in two years from sixty-five — nothing happened to me there either."
The women at the bar were listening to the conversation with keen interest.
"Hey, what did you used to do?"
A man seated next to me at the counter spoke up. Looked to be about my age.
"That's old history."
"I'm asking what you did."
First meeting, both customers — where did this man's arrogant tone come from?
"Pro wrestling in the past, and mixed martial arts about a year ago."
His manner of speaking was oddly cutting and irritating, but I kept my smile.
"Hm, is that so."
Obviously talking down to me. I was using polite speech to a stranger and this was how he responded? There were plenty of people who took advantage the moment you were civil with them.
I ignored the man next to me and got into a conversation with the women. Then he asked: "So how strong are you, exactly?"
"I haven't been in a match recently, so I couldn't say."
"Just living off past glory, then."
I'd been keeping quiet, but that landed.
What I'd done with my life was nothing remarkable. Even so — I'd lived it with everything I had.
Signing a waiver saying I wouldn't hold the organizers responsible even if I died — then stepping into that ring. Was that something to be laughed at? This body still stood because my teacher Jumbo Tsuruta, now gone, had built it up with his own hands.
"Hey, man. I'm talking to you — don't ignore me. Lost your voice?"
"……. Don't dirty it……"
The words just came out. That's right — don't casually step into a person's sacred ground without the readiness to back it up.
"What's your problem? You angry?"
I would have preferred to sit and drink in peace, but this man was in the way. I opened my eyes wide and grabbed him by the hair.
"Hey, buddy. I don't know what you think gives you the right to talk like that — but I'm using polite speech and you're up there on your high horse. Keep it up and I'll rip the hair right off your head."
"S-sorry……"
The bar went silent. The man paid his tab and left as if fleeing.
Stepping back from the fighting world or not — I'd gone a bit far on a civilian, I reflected.
"Ahh, that felt good. Well done, Iwakami-san!"
One of the women said it with a smile.
"What?"
"That customer — he was always picking fights with other customers and making it unpleasant. We kept hoping someone would put him in his place."
"No, I caused trouble for the shop. Sorry about that."
"Don't worry, it's better without him coming in."
"Exactly — everyone feels better now that Iwakami-chan said something."
I'd just acted out of irritation, but being told that made me oddly self-conscious.
"Come on, Iwakami-san. Drink up."
The alcohol tasted good for the first time in a while that night. Come to think of it — Yūki still hadn't sent any photos……
Suwa — the one who'd been on leave — came back to Field a day early. He said he'd prefer to start working two days from now, so the original plan was unchanged. Either way, in two days I'd be working Melon only.
The shift starting at eleven meant things would be easier — but I felt heavy about it. Earning a wage by selling illegal adult content just felt wrong to me. I still hadn't managed to throw away all my pride.
I'd burned through almost everything I'd earned on horse racing and entertainment, and now I had to start from zero — that's why I'd stayed under Kitanaka.
Running around a game parlor floor wasn't something I enjoyed either. But the video work was worse.
Quitting because it was unpleasant would be easy. But what could I actually do after that? Nothing — which was why I was putting up with the present.
The laptop sitting on the table caught my eye. If I didn't grab hold of something new, I was going to fall apart……
The computer Bōzu-san（Hijikata Satoru, a friend of a cousin）had taken the time to teach me. Letting it sit here doing nothing but games felt wasteful.
But what could I actually do with it now?
A computer can do anything, people say — but for me, games were the limit.
"A computer is like a smart baby — if you teach it 'do this like this,' it does it perfectly."
Something Bōzu-san had said once.
A smart baby……
Can't do anything on its own, but given the right guidance, it absorbs everything. I'd go back and bow my head and ask Bōzu-san to teach me computers again.
Game parlor work until three, video shop until five. This two-track pattern had two days left.
A daily wage of ten thousand, with the shortfall of a few thousand settled at end of month. Rather than agonizing over whether to keep this going — focus now on building computer skills.
The adult video work was dead time except for attending to the occasional customer. Think of that as an opportunity, and this place becomes somewhere to develop your own abilities.
A person's entire outlook can shift depending on how they frame things. Rather than dragging through work you hate — one change in thinking and everything can look different.
"Iwakami — one day early, but from tomorrow it's Melon only."
Kitanaka said it on his way out.
"Does that mean tomorrow's shift starts at eleven?"
"Right. From here on Melon is your main post, and you only come up to Field when staff are out."
Hmm…… what had happened to Yamamoto's point about the late shift being impossible?
Thinking it through calmly: Field was a twenty-four-hour game parlor on three shifts. "Days when staff take off" was easy to say — but with a six-person operation, how many days off did he think six people took in a month……
"That's basically almost every day, isn't it?"
"No — Yamamoto, Osaka, and the manager Koizumi cover each other on their days off. I'd say ten times a month at most."
"But those ten times are all different shift times, aren't they?"
Early shift meant arriving at seven in the morning. Mid shift at three in the afternoon. Late shift at eleven at night……
"You're young — you can handle it."
Compared to Kitanaka I was still in my thirties, sure — but that wasn't the point.
"That's not the issue. My normal hours are eleven here, but then suddenly one day it's morning, another day it's eleven at night — that's impossible."
"What a difficult person."
He said it like he was spitting — but he'd never do that himself. I wanted to say exactly that, but held it in. It was easy to say because it was someone else's problem.
A schedule that scattered and unplanned would break my body. If the pay were significant, maybe — but not for ten thousand a day.
"At least make it the mid shift. I can do that."
"What a pain. Fine — I'll go up and tell the staff now."
"Understood. But it's almost five, so I'll go after clocking out."
"Then go ahead, you're done."
Kitanaka spread the revenue wallets on the table, pulled out the most worn and filthy ten-thousand-yen note, and pushed it over. "Here — today's dezura."
"Thank you."
I shut down the laptop, packed it into the bag, and left Melon. Up the stairs, I pressed Field's intercom.
After a moment the lock clicked and the door opened. Lek had a look on his face like this was all too much trouble.
If answering the door for people coming and going felt like too much effort, just go back to Thailand.
Six customers inside playing machines. Iino, a familiar face, called out: "Oh — Iwakami-chan."
Shinshine, Kitanaka's woman, was scowling at her machine with intense focus.
When I said "good evening," Shinshine muttered irritably: "This machine is such a glutton. It just eats money, munch munch."
The normal mid shift should have been Osaka and Lek, but Yamamoto from the early shift was still there. Apparently Osaka had been late again and was stuck doing overtime.
With Lek handling the floor IN, I moved to the back of the register so I wasn't in the way.
"Finished downstairs already?"
"Yes. Kitanaka-san told me something——"
"About the shift arrangement?"
"Yes……"
"He came up here and just announced 'from now on Iwakami covers days off, so we're fine' out of nowhere. I told him that was impossible."
"Right."
"Then he said 'he's young, no problem, I'll tell him.' I thought, same as always, that's awful……"
That bastard……
I was growing to dislike Kitanaka more by the day.
"Right, that's exactly what I told him — I can only do the mid shift or earlier."
"You were right to say so. I felt bad for you, Iwakami-san."
What exactly did he think people were?
"Yeah. If you stay quiet, he just keeps demanding more — I figured that out. Anyway — how is Suwa-san, now that he's back?"
"Oh, that person…… he's hopelessly useless."
"Useless?"
"The moment the shop gets slow, he disappears somewhere to fool around. And if you're not watching, he tries to skim from the till. He doesn't even have his own apartment."
"So how does he live?"
"Couch-surfing between friends, and when those options run out — saunas."
"……"
The words failed me. He had a wife and a newborn — what was he thinking?
What kind of person was this? I couldn't even imagine.
"Don't you think Kitanaka-san charging Suwa-san interest is demonic?"
"I'd have to say yes……"
I decided it was wiser not to get any more entangled with the people in this operation than necessary.
Starting today, the shift was eleven in the morning. I could sleep properly, and the trains weren't crowded. I was never good at waking up early by nature, so this was an ideal time.
If only the work weren't adult videos……
Seitō Yūki kept contacting me persistently, every day. She'd said she would send photos a long time ago, and nothing had come, so I let some sarcasm through.
"I'm going to go chat up another woman tomorrow."
"What, wait! Absolutely not!"
"You lied, didn't you?"
"About what?"
"See — you've even forgotten what you said yourself. Then I don't have any particular obligation to you either."
"The photos, right? I'll send them right now! Right now, so wait!"
And so I got photos of Yūki's chest. I had no idea how long something like this would keep me entertained, but the nude of an ordinary civilian woman with an expression distorted by shame at being photographed was strangely exciting.
"You absolutely cannot show these to anyone else."
"I know."
If I asked Misaki, would she show me hers? No — don't be an idiot. That would be the end of everything I'd built with her, and I'd just be branded as the worst kind of man.
Arriving in Kabukichō, I unlocked the Melon entrance and put the sign out. Of course, Kitanaka never showed up at this hour.
I cleaned the shop, then looked through the video binders. I needed to get at least a rough picture of the inventory in my head — there were five hundred varieties of video alone.
When a customer asked about something, I needed to be able to say "how about this?" right away. I buried myself in that task for a while.
When a customer came to buy, I'd look at the title on their notepad and call the warehouse. Collect payment before the delivery came, then hand over the goods when the delivery man arrived. Exceptionally simple business.
Kitanaka came by the shop at around four in the afternoon every day.
"Hey, Iwakami. What's the revenue at?"
"Still at forty thousand."
That was all he needed to know. Kitanaka headed up to Field to play machines. At this hour, there'd probably be almost no customers.
Osaka from the mid shift came down to Melon every now and then to vent about Kitanaka and his IN-OUT gap reading at the machine tables.
"Kitanaka-san is really something."
"Did he hit another Royal?"
"I'd be fine with that — but he keeps tables on hold even when there are other customers there. Which means the customers always complain to us."
Losing money at poker machines was a given. But having the machine you'd put your money into placed on hold so Kitanaka could take the payoff — it was genuinely villainous.
"Why not tell the owner, Kaneko-san, about Kitanaka-san's situation?"
"Then it becomes 'who said that?' doesn't it. No one wants to be the bad guy. Including me, honestly……"
This was just a vicious cycle. Everyone thought the same thing, but no one moved. Until Kitanaka's high-handedness was stopped, the cycle would continue.
Field operated quietly with only regulars — it was never what you'd call a thriving game parlor. With Kitanaka on top of everything making it worse, the customers would only keep declining.
When Osaka went back up to Field, customers trickled into Melon. Everyone was intently browsing the video binders.
One customer was staring at the DVD jacket copies on the wall, taking notes.
"Eight titles — that'll be ten thousand yen exactly."
I settled the bill for the customer buying eight videos, then took the notepad from the customer buying DVDs.
"Just one moment."
I hurried to call the warehouse. Better to have everything brought at once.
"Yes." The warehouse person picked up with a sour-sounding voice.
"Ah, um — Girls' High School Diary——"
"Which?"
"What?"
"DVD or video? Which is it?"
What a way to speak……
"DVD."
"Next?"
"All DVD — Melancholy of Virgo, Strawberry Feeling. And Foreign Girl and the Yamato Nadeshiko."
Click.
Hung up without a word. Every single time. It was starting to affect my own mood. I might need to find a quiet moment and talk this through with him properly.
About five minutes later the delivery man arrived with the DVDs and videos. I bagged them and handed them to the customers. The delivery man gave no greeting to anyone — he loaded four or five canned coffees from the shop's refrigerator into his bag without a word, and left Melon in silence.
— continued —
