After careful consideration I’ve decided to archive this blog and have it on an indefinite hiatus - I’m getting swamped with work and life and there’s really no saying when I’ll be able to update this.
The archiving will take place once I finish “Robinson” since I don’t want to leave it hanging. I’ll still be part of the Greater East Asia Culture Society Discord server, where I’m considerably more active in the fandom.
This blog will also be renamed to 16012025 as I’d like to use the imayooshi name for other endeavours in the future. The translations will stay on this blog , but will only be available to view within Tumblr only.
Thanks again for all the support, couldn’t have done it without you!
Izawa listened intently as he hid behind the door.
—Nothing, not a peep.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
The soldier would never have expected this short Japanese man who was almost half his height to fling him over his shoulder.
Izawa struck a vital blow on his escort to render him unconscious and fished for the key in his pocket to free himself from his handcuffs, then proceeded to shove the soldier into one of the stalls. It would take a while before someone found him sitting on the toilet.
—Force and counter-force, and the principles of lever and centrifugal force.
Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki’s voice rang clear in his head.
A memory of Yuuki nonchalantly throwing an opponent more than twice his weight onto the tatami mat behind him surfaced.
Izawa received extensive training in unarmed combat, various weapons, and survival skills during his time at the D-Agency. Specialists were brought in for instruction, though Yuuki would see to his trainees personally at times, particularly in judo.
“That’s magic!” a student who had lived overseas for many years exclaimed when Yuuki knocked his opponent out.
The lieutenant colonel had immediately stopped speaking and turned his signature steely glare on him.
“Are you an idiot?” Yuuki bellowed. “Combat and survival are skills that can only be developed under perfectly explainable situations. If any of you dare suggest skills like these are magic or some other nonsense, I’ll have you out of my sight and out of the D-Agency. I don’t care who you are; you’d all do well to remember this.”
On the other hand, he would also mock students who became too engaged in their training.
“Skills like these are not essential assets to spies. You can’t rely on them for every occasion; situations where you are forced to fight or survive are just marginally worse than killing or suicide. Of course, it never hurts to prepare for the worst when it comes to it, so that couldn’t be neglected. Such is the way things are.”
“Never let yourself get caught.”
Yuuki would always remind them of that with a gloomy expression.
Evading capture was a spy’s chief method of keeping themselves alive. And possibly the only way.
“As long as you don’t shroud yourselves in your views and expectations, you should be able to produce a weapon from anything anywhere.”
Yuuki had presented a series of items to the trainees: an ashtray on a table, a pepper shaker, a coin, a rolled up matchbox, a pen, a leaf from an ornamental dragon’s tongue plant, an opponent’s necktie – mundane everyday items, but deadly and effective weapons if repurposed.
Izawa recalled the lieutenant colonel’s stern gaze and silently thanked him for the judo instruction. Though if he were to make it out alive, he’d best avoid conflict altogether.
Joker Game Novel Translations: Book 1, Chapter 3 [Robinson], Part 4/6
THESE TRANSLATIONS ARE FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY, NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED. PLEASE DO NOT RE-DISTRIBUTE, USE FOR OTHER PURPOSES OR REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
[Word count: 1414]
Yeah it took a while but here we are. Go nuts. Much love.
Izawa opened his eyes with a start.
Everything before his eyes were muddled and confusing, as though he were in the thick fogs of London.
His vision only cleared after blinking hard. When he recovered, he saw…
A pair of watery grey eyes scrutinizing him.
“How are you feeling?” Lieutenant Colonel Marks asked offhandedly.
“Well…not bad.” Izawa immediately replied with a smile. He felt nauseous, brow dripping with cold sweat, his own voice only a distant echo to him.
“Looks like the serum’s wearing off.” Marks muttered to himself.
(Serum?)
Izawa suddenly realized his situation at hand amidst his clouded mind.
–I’d been injected with a truth serum…
Looks like I was interrogated while I was out of it.
Marks dismissed a uniformed man with oriental features by his side with a nod. A translator for the interrogation perhaps.
How long had I been questioned?
I already lost all sense of time. No, more importantly…
What did he ask? And what did I give him?
Izawa squinted his eyes as he looked in front of him, and groaned in spite of himself when he realized what had happened.
Marks summoned another one of his men, and gave his orders quietly all the while with a smug look on his face.
“Need a drink?” he asked, turning to Izawa once again.
He only noticed how parched he was then.
Marks requested a jug and glasses to be brought.
“You see, this truth serum has a troublesome side-effect. The recipient tends to get thirsty after injection. A flaw is a flaw, there’s definitely plenty of room for improvement,” he stated casually as he poured Izawa a glass himself.
He downed it and sighed.
“So…got anything out of me?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be going over what you gave us once again, just to be safe.” Marks lit his pipe and considered him thoughtfully, before adding, “Well, I did make a new discovery.”
“A new discovery?”
“Correct. Let’s say you just told us about the little secret in those telegrams of yours. Everyone’s unique keying styles have been registered in the country, just like fingerprint, acting as another line of defense for your communications…or something along those lines.”
“It can’t be…even you…”
“Don’t be surprised.” Marks shrugged. “It’s for your own good.”
“My own good…”
“Of course, everything is for your sake.”
Marks’ tone shifted to that of intimacy.
“I would like to apologize for my harsh treatment and violating your will. But it’s only thanks to that, I am able to trust you. From now own you’ll be serving under my command.”
Izawa peered at him quizzically.
Marks’ composure was unreadable; how could he remain so calm?
“You know, this is a rare opportunity indeed, so let me tell you something.” He stole a sideway glance at Izawa as he smoked his pipe. “We never asked you any of this. You were spewing ‘Fuck, Yuuki’s sold me out’ over and over again…we can always trust a man he betrays.”
Izawa chewed on his lip and stared daggers into his eyes and scarred face.
He turned away and hung his head, defeated.
~~~~
This was the first time Izawa was uncuffed since he was arrested.
“I have a task here that I want you to undertake.” Marks returned to his clipped, cool tone, and instructed a subordinate to bring a Morse telegraph.
“Send a coded message back to Japan. That’ll be your first task.”
“A message? Back to Japan?” Izawa wearily raised his head.
“We’ve already prepared the contents of the telegram. You might think we’re putting our noses in your business, but we’ve also encoded it, and converted it to Morse code. In other words, all you have to do is to use this radio and send the message. Simple as that.”
—So this was it.
Izawa pursed his lips.
So long as the enemy accepted any false intel as truth, damage will be inflicted.
Passing on false reports of enemy reinforcements at specific locations, thus weakening their own defences in other areas as they bolster their numbers.
Or targeting their expenses and budgets with exaggerated numbers, forcing them to expend more resources and exhausting their power.
A more subtle approach would involve raising accusations of diplomats providing inaccurate information during negotiations, turning the tide for relations. In other words…
Sowing chaos among opposing intelligence forces would be the most effective solution to counter enemy agents. An especially careful hand is needed when selecting the one to send forth, a task of even greater importance than discerning whether or not the messages received came willingly or were sent by way of threat.
Each nation used every trick at their disposal for this very purpose.
Encoding messages.
Specific times in which messages were sent.
Unique wavelength frequencies.
But their enemies would always see through their methods, one way or another.
“We’ve already encoded and converted the message to Morse code” was what Marks had said.
British forces had not only been able to decipher Japanese codes, they’d also managed to get their hands on a code book. Had the D-Agency not assigned individual keying styles for each of their agents, Japan would surely be plunged into chaos by now with an influx of bad intel.
“What’s wrong?” Marks jeered from across the table, pipe between his lips. “What are you waiting for? We’ve prepared the message, you have nothing to worry about. All you have to do is send it; it’s a simple task. Unless…”
Marks let out a sinister smile.
“You’re still wondering why Yuuki’s betrayed you? Not that I wouldn’t be thinking about it if I were in your position, after all, he really is a ruthless man. But you said it yourself – he was the one who sold you out. And don’t forget, you’ve told us the unspeakable already. Even Yuuki wouldn’t take you if you go back. You’re out of options.”
Izawa wearily shook his head, every word from Marks weighing heavily on him.
He sighed, reaching for the radio in front of him.
~~~~
“Very nice. Now you’re officially one of us.” Marks nodded with approval after he checked the false report. Izawa’s keying style was there in every dash and dot.
He motioned for the young man in uniform stood behind Izawa.
“Take him for a bite to eat.” He shot Izawa a look, and added, smiling, “and a smoke.”
Izawa stood up from his chair.
“And don’t forget about the handcuffs,” Marks said without missing a beat.
“Handcuffs?” the young man returned the question, confused.
“Until we can confirm that our fake intel has done actual damage to Japan, we can’t allow him to leave. Keep a close eye on him,” he stated calmly.
The young man saluted and placed the cuffs on Izawa.
Izawa was an ally only in speaking. Soldiers dogged his steps with every move, and this one was almost weighed twice as much as he did.
He appeared to be exhausted after his ordeal, and remained quiet. He slumped his shoulders and allowed himself to be escorted to his room. He suddenly stopped in the corridor along the way, claiming that he wanted to use the restroom.
His escort nodded without a word, and started to guide him to turn right.
Izawa followed obediently, then paused and turned around to face him.
“Isn’t the one around the corner closer?”
The soldier almost nodded on reflex, suspicion evident on his face.
“How did you know?”
Izawa shook his head and gave no answer.
~~~~
“Make it quick,” the soldier said as he shoved Izawa into the restroom.
There was only a single fixed window installed solely for the purpose of letting in natural light; bars were affixed on the other side, leaving no chance for anyone to escape.
“…in other words, it’s about force and counter-force…the principles of lever and centrifugal force…” Izawa muttered as he relieved himself.
“What are you going on about!” the soldier’s voice bounced off the walls of the tight room.
He paid no attention and continued to ramble to himself as he washed his hands.
Then suddenly he screamed and pointed at the mirror in horror.
“What? What about the mirror?” The young soldier hunched over to take a closer look over Izawa’s shoulder.
There was nothing but the reflection of his terror.
Izawa threw his back hard into the soldier’s chest.
And then his reflection vanished from the mirror, just as the six-foot, two-hundred-and-ten pound soldier crashed into the cold hard ground.
Hi :D I really love Joker game hence I'm looking foward to read your next translations. I've noticed the last one had been years ago.... You're the only one who is working on this, I really hope you continue. Thanks for your attention.
Oh yeah let's go it's getting awfully quiet around here
Haha remember that 6 month period in 2016-17 when like a solid 18 of us were obsessed with joker game and everyone wrote really great fanfic and drew really pretty art for it and we all yelled and squealed at each other about it??? Where can I get me a fandom like that again ahahahahaha
Everything before his eyes were muddled and confusing, as though he were in the thick fogs of London.
His vision only cleared after blinking hard. When he recovered, he saw…
A pair of watery grey eyes scrutinizing him.
“How are you feeling?” Lieutenant Colonel Marks asked offhandedly.
“Well…not bad.” Izawa immediately replied with a smile. He felt nauseous, brow dripping with cold sweat, his own voice only a distant echo to him.
“Looks like the serum’s wearing off.” Marks muttered to himself.
(Serum?)
Izawa suddenly realized his situation at hand amidst his clouded mind.
–I’d been injected with a truth serum…
Looks like I was interrogated while I was out of it.
Marks dismissed a uniformed man with oriental features by his side with a nod. A translator for the interrogation perhaps.
How long had I been questioned?
I already lost all sense of time. No, more importantly…
What did he ask? And what did I give him?
Izawa squinted his eyes as he looked in front of him, and groaned in spite of himself when he realized what had happened.
Marks summoned another one of his men, and gave his orders quietly all the while with a smug look on his face.
“Need a drink?” he asked, turning to Izawa once again.
He only noticed how parched he was then.
Marks requested a jug and glasses to be brought.
“You see, this truth serum has a troublesome side-effect. The recipient tends to get thirsty after injection. A flaw is a flaw, there’s definitely plenty of room for improvement,” he stated casually as he poured Izawa a glass himself.
Joker Game Novel Translations: Book 1, Chapter 3 [Robinson], Part 3/6
THESE TRANSLATIONS ARE FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY, NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED. PLEASE DO NOT RE-DISTRIBUTE, USE FOR OTHER PURPOSES OR REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
[Word count: 1583]
What’s good boys and girls we’re back. Hope everyone’s hale and healthy in trying times as these, don’t forget to wash your hands and practice social distancing!
“—This is a parting gift. Take it with you.”
Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki said with a slight raise in his brow as he extracted a package from his drawer, tossing it to Izawa.
That was the day Izawa completed his training in the D-Agency, ready to make the trip to London.
Due to the nature of espionage, trainees of the D-Agency could not hope to have elaborate farewell parties like those of soldiers before they leave for foreign soil to carry out their assignments. Family of course was out of the question, and not a word was to be said even to fellow spies of the D-Agency. They embarked on a solitary journey to no one’s knowledge.
The only exception was Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki, whom the trainees called the “Demon King” in private. Of course he would know precisely about their assignments, location, and date of departure.
“A parting gift” he called it, the small package he’d tossed at Izawa who came to say his goodbyes. He returned to the paperwork on his desk, his expression indiscernible as usual. Izawa thought he would offer an explanation about the gift, and so waited for a while, but Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki simply dismissed him with the raise of his hand.
(Well this is confusing, to think it would be something interesting…)
With no one to see him off, Izawa boarded the cruise ship to England alone. He laid himself down on the bed in his cabin once the ceremonial ship launching was over, and unwrapped the package Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki had given him.
It was a red-covered book, with rōmaji that read horizontally—English perhaps. That was it. There wasn’t even a card.
Confounded, he opened the book. Izawa’s expression cracked despite himself after looking at the title.
“The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe”.
There were plenty of translated copies of “Robinson Crusoe” or “The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe” in Japan. Izawa recalled reading one of the books in the series when he was a child.
(Did he intend for me to pass the time during the long journey with this?)
Izawa smiled wryly, and began to read.
Born in York, Robinson set sail for adventure despite his father’s advice. He later shipwrecked in a storm, but was lucky enough to keep his life, and washed ashore on a deserted island. He built himself a house with what little tools he had left in possession, grew grains, and hardily lived on…
Twenty five years after Robinson washed ashore, there was an incident.
Robinson saved a young savage on the verge of being killed by cannibals on along the shore. Robinson named him Friday, for that was the day he was rescued.
After running into the “new resident”, visitors began to appear on the island. Robinson eventually returned to England after many years of hardship.
Izawa was intrigued by Robinson’s story, now that he had revisited it after many years.
That said, the protagonist was solemn and often speaks of spirituality and morality (an absolute mess from a logical standpoint), and some would find the emphasis on Eurocentrism in the story rather distasteful.
What Izawa found truly interesting was this:
Even as he was stranded on an island and forced to live a solitary life, Robinson still acted the part of an Englishman. Just like a spy.
Most would believe that those who spoke to no one and acted alone (people who live on uninhabited islands, or spies who take on false identities in foreign land) would always be on the brink of breakdown. But that was child’s play in espionage. In other words, it’s a matter of experience, just part of the job and was of no consequence.
“It’s a common skill that most people possess.”
Every trainee of the D-Agency would say, perhaps with a cold and nonchalant smile.
Actors. Frauds. Magicians. Gamblers.
They make their living through lies and false pretence, picking up acting skills along the way and blending into the audience. It is at that when they leave their “character” and revert back to their true selves.
But spies infiltrating enemy lines could never let this put them at ease. They spend every moment immersing themselves in drastically different personalities.
“Izawa Kazuo” for instance.
His name and history were tailored specifically for this assignment.
The real Izawa Kazuo learned photography in Japan, and was the nephew of Maeda Yatarō, who ran Maeda London Photo Studio. He enlisted in the Imperial Japanese Army in response to the draft, and was likely deployed to a location that had no contact with the outside world.
Izawa’s task this time was to slip into London, collect and analyze intel and deliver it back to Japan. If anyone suspected that he wasn’t the real Izawa Kazuo, his work would be immediately affected.
He had memorized all of Izawa Kazuo’s information and associates before leaving Japan, and was able to act the part of “Maeda Yatarō’s nephew, Izawa Kazuo” no matter the circumstances. Being well-versed in photographic techniques was of course essential to the part, but that was child’s play to D-Agency trainees. Truth of the matter was, minute details, such as Izawa Kazuo’s past relations, likes, and taste in food took far more effort to get a grasp on.
All it takes is just one slip-up for the façade to be destroyed.
Not unlike Robinson Crusoe, who washed ashore on an island in the South Seas alone, yet continued to uphold the values of the Englishman.
Robinson studied the Bible and prayed to God on the island.
Robinson planted grains, milled flour, and baked bread on the island.
Robinson made a pipe and smoked tobacco on the island.
Robinson tailored a suit from sheepskin on the island.
Robinson named the young native Friday, named himself master, and forced him to accept the relationship.
From a survivalist’s perspective, all these actions are meaningless. The “uncivilized”, as he called it, was the most suitable way of life on the island.
Robinson did all of this to live the English life.
Even as he lived in solitude, he did not abandon his role of the Englishman, and continued to perform.
An allegory—a metaphor for a spy infiltrating enemy territory, acting their parts, living nonchalantly and revealing nothing to the family and friends he gains there.
That is “The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe”—a spy novel.
Come to the think of it, it is hard to imagine that Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki presented him with the novel simply because he was interested in literature of that type.
Izawa carefully flipped through the pages to check for directions written in the margins, but found nothing. Each and every page was spotless, he even wondered if someone else had a flip-through before him. He even went as far as testing the pages with all sorts of chemical solutions used by the D-Agency and ultraviolet light to make sure, but found no trace of invisible ink.
He set the book before him, crossed his legs and placed his hands behind his head, trying to gauge at the lieutenant colonel’s intentions.
(Robinson was forced to live on that island for 28 years. Perhaps he’s telling me to prepare myself to spend a long time undercover…)
No conclusions came to him. When he reread the book, he gaze was drawn to the author’s biography at the end.
—Daniel Defoe was Queen Anne’s spy. [1]
This was the passage written about him.
Daniel Defoe once served as an agent of the secret service under the rule of Queen Anne in the late 17th to early 18th centuries. He was, in secret, a staunch supporter of the union between England and Scotland. He used aliases such as Alexander Goldsmith and Claude Guilot when he travelled, creating a spy network for Harley whom he was serving under, while exposing the identities of enemy agents.
Defoe was well-versed in astronomy and alchemy, and used his knowledge to construct various codes.
He was also known for his astounding skills in authorship, his works including “The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe”, “Moll Flanders”, “A Tour through England and Wales”. To Defoe, writing was just a leisurely pursuit alongside his spying activites.
(Well then, is my job in the photo studio the answer to the mystery?)
Izawa smiled wryly, placed the book aside and laid down on his bed.
He resigned from trying to solve the riddle Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki had given him.
If the lieutenant colonel intentionally gave him an unsolvable riddle, Izawa would never find the answer.
(When the time comes, it’ll solve itself.)
That was all Izawa could think.
He closed his eyes, and felt sleep overcoming him.
A thought flashed across his mind just as he was about to fall asleep.
(Right, so this is what it is…)
—But it was just out of reach.
So close to the answer…yet so far…
—Damn.
Izawa furrowed his brows, his eyes still closed.
An unsettling noise broke his concentration….was that…whistling? Schubert’s Erlkönig. A father holding his child close as he rides through the darkness of night…
The Erlkönig approaches…Erlkönig…a terrified boy…young man, that is not the Erlkönig. That’s…a shadow of the trees…no, no that’s not it. That’s…a silhouette of a someone’s profile…I see their face…that face…
—Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki.
Annotations:
[1] Defoe did not serve Queen Anne directly. He was in the service of Robert Harley, who in return served the Queen as Chancellor of the Exchequer (1710-1711). A more detailed account can be found in these articles (1), (2)
Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki said with a slight raise in his brow as he extracted a package from his drawer, tossing it to Izawa.
That was the day Izawa completed his training in the D-Agency, ready to make the trip to London.
Due to the nature of espionage, trainees of the D-Agency could not hope to have elaborate farewell parties like those of soldiers before they leave for foreign soil to carry out their assignments. Family of course was out of the question, and not a word was to be said even to fellow spies of the D-Agency. They embarked on a solitary journey to no one’s knowledge.
The only exception was Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki, whom the trainees called the “Demon King” in private. Of course he would know precisely about their assignments, location, and date of departure.
“A parting gift” he called it, the small package he’d tossed at Izawa who came to say his goodbyes. He returned to the paperwork on his desk, his expression indiscernible as usual. Izawa thought he would offer an explanation about the gift, and so waited for a while, but Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki simply dismissed him with the raise of his hand.
(Well this is confusing, to think it would be something interesting…)
With no one to see him off, Izawa boarded the cruise ship to England alone. He laid himself down on the bed in his cabin once the ceremonial ship launching was over, and unwrapped the package Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki had given him.
Will you be continuing to translate Joker Game or is it completed? :0
Definitely, they aren't complete yet and I was planning on picking it up again possibly this summer, or even before that given that COVID is upon us and I'm...stuck with not much else to do besides what I already have to do. Take comfort in knowing that despite all the pushbacks and delays, I have no intention of giving up on the translations!
The same lovely user who submitted this has also submitted this. This was submitted a while ago and I apologise for the delay, but this was an interesting read and feel free to add your own thoughts.
While some are quite clear to understand from the name, I’ve added a few words associated with the card’s meaning to all just in case they might seem confusing.
Card No.0: The Fool - Kaminaga
Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit, unlimited potential.
Card No.1: The Magician - Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki
The last three years were simultaneously the best and some of the worst years I’ve had so far. Between my education and mental health, it’s been hard juggling my promises with life and I don’t anticipate that to get easier anytime soon.
2019 was rough: university applications and exams. A dear friend of mine passed away about half a year ago and the news hit me at a particularly bad time and it turned into a huge blur as I spiralled back into a state I previously thought I’d put behind.
I’d been so sure about my future until a few weeks ago and everything came crashing down as I found out I missed my first choice of university by a single mark and was forced to take an entirely different path.
I’m happy to say that I’m in a better position now, and that I’m still determined to continue translating on this blog, though it seems that it would take...even more waiting with all that’s happened, but I hope that this small, tight-knit Joker Game community will continue to grow and never lose its passion and warmth it has always had.
