他们俩，还有崩布里尼 The Boys and Bombolini

作者：Jared Rosen

比尔吉沃特形形色色的海运仓库里，大多充斥着腐锈的匕首和人类手臂一样长的食肉硕鼠，但也有一个仓库是例外。仓库的所有者，是一位亲戚遭遇了谋杀案的皮尔特沃夫军火商（他的亲戚被人剥皮抽筋，大卸八块，分挂在码头边的阴森宅院里）。仓库装运的商品主要是大宗高爆炸药——包括黑火药和海克斯炸药，发往世界各地的战争狂人。其中最值得注意的，是艾欧尼亚境内的诺克萨斯人、恕瑞玛境内的诺克萨斯人、德玛西亚境内的诺克萨斯人，偶尔还有，诺克萨斯境内的诺克萨斯人。而最后提到的这位买家，最近送来了一封信，放话要“宰了你这个下贱杂种，看你的炸弹还敢不敢漫天要价。”

There existed, among the multitude of disgusting Bilgewater shipping warehouses filled with rusted knives and arms-length carnivorous rats, one Bilgewater shipping warehouse devoid of such things. Owned by a Piltovan arms dealer whose relative was recently murdered (and skinned and stuffed into a dockside horror house), it was primarily used to ship large quantities of high explosives—both powder and hex—to various enemies of peace across the continent. Most notably, the Noxians in Ionia, the Noxians in Shurima, the Noxians in Demacia, and, very occasionally, the Noxians in Noxus—the latter having recently sent a letter threatening to murder “the cheap bastard who was gouging them with their bomb prices.”

摊上事的这位皮尔特沃夫商人，或者说杂种，琢磨着要是继续跟着这些歹毒的殖民者蝇营狗苟，可能会因此丢了性命。于是雇了一支加强武装的“碧蓝大道”佣兵团看护他的仓库，同时又雇了另一支加强武装的佣兵小队，计划在碧蓝大道的眼皮底下劫走全部货物。军火商在这批货上押了不菲的保险金，万一在理论上可能发生的激烈枪战中造成连锁爆炸，他就可以稍微挽回一些损失甚至还有赚头。而另一个商业决策更可谓是未雨绸缪，他雇佣的抢劫团伙，则是臭名昭著的欺诈艺术家崔斯特·菲特，还有臭名昭著的邋遢汉马尔科姆·格雷福斯。

Said Piltovan owner-slash-bastard, deciding it was no longer safe to be the consigliere of colonial evil, therefore employed a group of heavily armed Azure Way mercenaries to guard his warehouse while simultaneously hiring a different group of heavily armed mercenaries to steal the entire hoard from under the first group’s noses. A great sum of coin was spent insuring this hoard so that in the event of a colossal chain explosion during a violent, hypothetical gunfight, the owner would walk away an ever-so-slightly wealthier arms dealer. A forward-thinking business decision, considering his heist crew consisted of notorious con artist Twisted Fate, and notorious bath-avoider Malcolm Graves.

要的就是连带损害。

Collateral damage was intended.

“这水到底多深？咱是被人摆了一道啦？”马尔科姆·格雷福斯正躲在仓库二楼的悬梯后，壮硕的身躯勉强被一根粗壮的柱子挡住。他猜得八九不离十。暴雨般的枪火从下往上飞射，从他身边擦肩而过，一边蚕食着他背后的掩体，一边在周围的货箱上留下密密麻麻的弹孔——货箱上面原本画着的苦瓜脸小人标志，已经被毁得面目全非。

“What the blue hells is this? Some kinda setup?” Malcolm Graves correctly guessed from behind a second-floor catwalk, his large, meaty body only barely concealed by a double-wide pillar. Gunfire rained upward all around him, chewing away thick pieces of his cover and punching holes into nearby shipping containers—many of which displayed prominent illustrations of a frowning cartoon man being blown apart.

“看来是的。”蜷缩在一旁的崔斯特·菲特回了一句，指尖翻弄着一张卡牌。每翻一次，牌面的色调都会按照蓝色、红色、金色的顺序变化。不过每当他特别紧张的时候，顺序都会乱。这可不妙，因为红色的能制造喷火的大爆炸，金色的能制造闪光的大爆炸，而蓝色的在眼下的情形里没什么用。

“Seems that way,” Twisted Fate replied, crouched nearby as he flipped a playing card over in his fingers. With each turn, its hues shifted from blue, to red, to gold—though when he got especially nervous, he couldn’t get the order right. This was a problem, considering the red ones caused large flaming explosions, the gold ones caused large glittering explosions, and the blue ones were not really that useful right now.

“你倒是想办法呀，你个混蛋？我连开枪的机会都没有！”格雷福斯喊道。他举着一人高的霰弹枪，扣着扳机的手指蠢蠢欲动。他并不介意跟人对射，但前提是他有还手之力。

“Why aren’t you doing anything, ya jackass? I can’t even take a shot!” yelled Graves, his finger twitching over the trigger of his human-sized shotgun. He didn’t mind being shot at as long as he could return the favor.

“他们都躲在火药桶后边。”崔斯特瞪了他一眼，用下巴指了指满屋子从地板堆到天棚的烈性炸药。“不想和冥渊号一样沉掉的话，最好想出个备用计划来。”

“They’re set up behind a crate of gunpowder,” Fate snapped back, motioning around the room that was stacked floor to ceiling with volatile dry-pack explosives. “Unless you want to go down like the Dead Pool, we might need to figure out a plan B.”

“我可不想！”格雷福斯哀怨道，没说清他是不想死还是不想动脑子。“太倒霉了！我们为什么总接奇怪的活儿？”

“I don’t wanna do that!” whinged Graves, not specifying whether he meant dying or thinking. “This sucks! Why do we always gotta pick the weird jobs?”

“因为报酬高。”崔斯特回答，语气透着用不合时宜的冷静，“我们总是不长记性。”

“Because they pay the best,” replied Fate, perhaps more nonchalantly than the moment called for. “Ain’t a reflection on us.”

“哈！你这么说我就明白了。”格雷福斯仔细琢磨着现在的处境，是让他的烟雾弹引燃地板上撒漏的黑火药，直接把他俩炸死，还是等一秒钟以后，让楼下某个眼瞎的半鱼人不小心打爆炸药箱。第二个选项好像还不错。很不错。非常非常不错。

“Huh. Makes sense when you say it like that.” Graves pondered their predicament, wondering if his smoke bombs would cause the pair to immediately die by igniting some stray black powder on the warehouse floor, or if they’d die half a second later when one of the blinded fish-men accidentally fired his gun into a crate of dynamite. The second option sounded good. Really good. Really, really good.

“我想到一个非常非常非常厉害的计划！”格雷福斯大声说道，信心十足地掏出一颗手雷。他瞥了眼货箱上的苦瓜脸小人，说道，“不能怨我。”

“I’ve got a really, really, really good plan!” Graves announced, confidently holding out a live grenade. He glanced at the tiny frowning cartoon man on the boxes in front of him. “Don’t judge me,” he told him.

“你要干什么？”崔斯特惊恐地瞪大了双眼，想要阻止他，只见格雷福斯已经扬起手准备扔了。他脑海中浮现出两人随屠宰码头的建筑物一起灰飞烟灭的画面——或格雷福斯一个人灰飞烟灭。即使是后者，在他看来也挺麻烦的。“马尔科姆，你要干什么？”

“What are you doin’?” Fate protested, his eyes widening in horror as Graves’ arm arced back for the throw. In his mind, he saw the two of them disintegrating along with a good portion of the Slaughter Docks—or at least Graves disintegrating, which would be inconvenient at best. “Malcolm, what are you doin’?”

“等等！”楼下传来一个洪亮的声音。“别扔！”

“Wait!” boomed a voice from below. “Do not throw that!”

格雷福斯虽然泄了气，但同时也很感激密集的枪火突然开始消退，于是他放下了烟雾弹。崔斯特在慌乱之中忘记了手中卡牌的颜色，他抓到了一张红色的，如果不小心发动，就可能误杀仓库里的所有人。

Graves, somewhat disheartened by the order, but equally grateful the gunfire had suddenly ebbed, lowered his smoke bomb. Fate, who in a state of panic had forgotten the color of the card he held, gripped a red one, which would have accidentally killed everyone if he’d mistakenly activated it to try and escape the warehouse.

这对搭档交换了一下眼神，看了看各自手中的爆炸物，又看向对方。

The partners locked eyes for a moment, looked at their respective explosives, then back at each other.

“我的更好。”格雷福斯得意洋洋地说，“更安全。”

“Mine was better,” gloated Graves. “Safer.”

楼下那个喊话的声音愈发歇斯底里，慌忙命令其他佣兵也停火，别打中房子里堆满的炸弹，尤其咒骂了一个叫盔饴的家伙，说他“闯过一次祸还是不知轻重”。被点名的枪手嘟囔了几句，表示不满。或者说是咕噜了几句，呼噜了几句，具体取决于他长的是什么样的鱼头。

The voice from below, now near hysterical, busied itself commanding the other mercenaries to stop firing wildly into a warehouse stuffed with bombs, specifically lambasting someone named Kouign who “should know better after last time.” The gunmen grumbled in turn. Or burbled, or blubbed, depending on the size and configuration of their prominently fishy heads.

趁着那个发号施令的声音四处移动，于是崔斯特赶紧凑到格雷福斯身边，指了指他大衣的内兜小声问：“上次我给你的那张蓝牌，还留着吗？”

As the unseen voice in charge moved about, Fate leaned over to Graves, pointing at his interior coat pocket. “You still got that blue card I gave you?” he whispered.

“啊？光明哨兵给的那个？留着呢。”格雷福斯回答道，音量丝毫未减。

“What, the one from the Sentinels? Yeah, I still got it,” Graves answered at a normal volume.

“小点声。咱们把这群杂鱼炸上天，自己逃出去怎么样？他们现在都乱套了。我们可以神不知鬼不觉地出去。”

“Quiet. Now what say we pop that sucker and get out of here? These guys are distracted. They’ll never know we left.”

“不行，你都说了这单生意肥得流油。我能眼瞅着肥肉不吃？还有一张吃饭的嘴等我养活呢——我的嘴。”

“Nuh-uh, you already told me what all this is worth. You think I’m just gonna leave a score that big on the table? I got a mouth to feed: mine.”

“现在这情况，我们可能死过千遍万遍了。赶紧止损保命吧。”

“We shoulda died at least a hundred times already. Now’s the chance to cut our losses.”

“身为帅气的主人公，我永远不会死。大家都知道。”

“I’ll never die, because I’m the handsome protagonist. Everyone knows that.”

“知道个屁。只要有一颗子弹打歪，我们就都成了葬礼上的遗像。”

“Everyone knows squat. One stray bullet, and we’re all portraits at a funeral.”

“你才上葬礼呢。我打败了佛耶戈，所以我是男主角。”

“Your funeral, maybe. I beat Viego. That makes me the male lead.”

“还男主角？我可真是受够了你的鬼故事了！”崔斯特一声怒吼，吸引了整个屋子的人的注意。

“The male lead? I am so tired of this damn story!” yelled Fate, immediately attracting the attention of everybody in the room.

“看吧？你闯祸了。不折不扣的雷锤行为。”格雷福斯得意洋洋地说，其实他要说的是“累赘”。

“See? That’s your fault. Real deuteragonist behavior,” Graves gloated, about forty percent sure he used the word “deuteragonist” right.

所有人都不知所措了，紧张地左顾右盼，开始逐渐意识到自己周围的状况，还有目前的处境。但无论是这两个倒霉蛋还是碧蓝大道那群老无所依的杂牌军，都没有终止这场僵持的权威。事实上任何一场僵持都没那么容易终止，因为暴力升级才是比尔吉沃特的老传统。

Everyone collectively hesitated, each glancing around nervously as the realization of where they were and what, exactly, they had gotten themselves into began to sink in. Yet neither the pair of bumblers nor the rank and file Azure Way castoffs had the authority to end this standoff... Or really any standoff, as immediate and violent escalation is a rich Bilgewater tradition.

那个长着双髻鲨鱼头，拿着锋利的鱼叉炮，还光着膀子的大个子，他同样不能打破僵持，只不过自己还不知道。他的名字是崩布里尼，他最了解两样东西，一是展现出与他体态不符的优雅，另一样则是如何用一句话镇住一屋子人。

The tall hammerhead-shark man with a menacing harpoon gun and no shirt was also unable to end this standoff, but he did not know it yet. His name was Bombolini, and the two things he knew best were how to project an understated elegance for a creature of his stature, and how to know exactly what to say to command a room.

“哪里来的蠢货，你们想做什么？”他对着二楼的悬梯喊道，“想端掉半个比尔吉沃特啊？哪有拿着火器抢炸药的劫匪？”

“What are you doing, you buncha ding dongs?” he shouted toward the catwalk. “You tryna vaporize half of Bilgewater? What kind of heist crew brings live ammunition to a powder job?”

马尔科姆·格雷福斯和崔斯特·菲特都（极不明智地）从掩体后方探出头，二人一左一右各自看到了对手的一只眼睛。他刚毅的目光、健美的身材，以及狠毒的武器让海蛇看了都怕被插死。他们相认了一秒钟。两秒钟。然后，不知为何，三秒钟。

Malcolm Graves and Twisted Fate both (unwisely) poked their heads out from their cover, each looking into a different monocular eye of their newfound opponent. His steely gaze, his muscular figure, his mean-looking weapon that was clearly intended to skewer sea serpents. A second of recognition passed. Two seconds. And then, for some reason, three.

“崩布里尼？”格雷福斯开口问道。

“Bombolini?” Graves asked.

“马尔科姆？”崩布里尼也问道，“马尔科姆·格雷福斯？是你吗？你……你这是来打劫我的？”

“Malcolm?” Bombolini asked back. “Malcolm Graves? Is that you? Are... Are you robbing me?”

格雷福斯长吁一口气，肩膀放松下来。他可不是随便哪个杂鱼。他是杂鱼中的朋友。

Graves let out a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders. This wasn’t just any dumb fish. This was a dumb fish friend.

“我不是要劫你。我是要劫花钱雇你的人。”格雷福斯解释道，“我觉得他同时也花钱雇了我们。所以我们这么做非常合理。”

“I’m not robbing you. I’m robbing the guy who hired you,” Graves explained. “I think he hired us, too. Which makes what we’re doin’ up here morally sound.”

“我们？”

“Us?”

“你好，崩布里尼。”崔斯特挥挥手说，“我也是来劫你的。”

“Hey, Bombolini,” Fate waved. “I’m robbing you, too.”

“啥——”崩布里尼不乐意了，“都他妈给我等一会！那个时候你俩可是把我炸上了天！你们、在我的船上、把我炸上了天！我们以前是搭档，而你俩却为了蝇头小利出卖了我，这座城就没有第三个人，会为了这么点油水出卖同伙！”

“Wha—” protested Bombolini. “Now wait a damn minute! You two blew me up! You blew me up on my own ship! We were partners, and you double-crossed me for the worst score this city has ever seen!”

“也没那么少。”格雷福斯回了一嘴。

“It wasn’t the worst,” retorted Graves.

“就抢出来一块宝石。”崔斯特纠正他说，“最后还发现是玻璃。”

“One jewel,” Fate corrected. “Ended up being glass.”

“切，才不是咧。”格雷福斯说，“肯定不止那么点。”

“Nah, that’s not right,” Graves said. “Had to be more.”

事实就那么点。

But it wasn’t.

多年前，崩布里尼是格雷福斯与崔斯特双人犯罪团伙中的边缘第三人。那时候他们只能做一些简单的工作，拿点寒酸的报酬，而他们的宣传单却多少有点……措辞不当。

Many years prior, Bombolini had been the unappreciated third member of the Graves & Fate crime duo back when they pulled small jobs for bad pay, and their posters were somewhat... unfortunately worded.

“两个男子汉愿意为任何人（真的是任何人），做任何事（真的是任何事），只要价钱合适（任何价钱）。”宣传单上就是这么写的，再加上里边完全没有提到崩布里尼，最后导致了许多原本可以避免的误会，误导了许多潜在客户。多亏了比尔吉沃特浓厚的“暴力升级”传统，这些意外往往以血雨腥风或者小规模爆炸告终。说来也巧了，动静闹得越大，这个团伙就越为人所知，不知不觉竟成了一支炙手可热的佣兵小队。

“Two men who will do anything (and we mean anything) to anybody (and we mean anybody) for the right price (any price),” the leaflets used to say, which, in addition to Bombolini’s complete erasure from the group, led to a number of rather avoidable miscommunications with prospective clientele. And thanks to Bilgewater’s rich tradition of violent escalation, these mishaps tended to end in bloodshed or minor dock explosions—ironically drawing enough attention to the upstart criminals that they became a popular mercenary outfit.

之后的几年，宣传单始终没有改过，这就使得年轻的崩布里尼心怀芥蒂。最后他用自己那份酬劳买了一艘小型帆船，告别了犯罪生涯，开始在蓝焰群岛附近打捞沉船物资。这个行当可比抢劫赚得多，而他正好也不用在宣传单上，宣称自己是搞某种海盗肉搏大会的了。

The leaflets remained unchanged for years, which made a young Bombolini deeply bitter. He eventually used his portion of the group’s earnings to buy a modest schooner, retire from criminality, and start a solo wreck-diving operation in the Blue Flame Isles that paid much better than robbery and coincidentally did not bill itself as some sort of pirate flesh carnival in bar flyers.

船大了就容易招人眼红。眼红的人最后雇来了马尔科姆·格雷福斯和崔斯特·菲特，让他俩在芭茹遗迹附近的一处打捞点，抢劫他们曾经的同伴。这俩小伙根本没有道义那根筋，答应得可爽快了。他们的抢劫行动造成了小规模油料起火，然后是大规模油料起火，再然后就是血雨腥风和帆船爆炸。所有宝藏都跟着船一起沉下去了……当然，除了一块海玻璃。

Also coincidentally, success tends to draw eyes, and two of those eyes eventually hired Malcolm Graves and Twisted Fate to rob their former companion at a dive site near a Buhru ruin. Lacking any moral fiber whatsoever, the pair immediately accepted. The robbery instantly led to a small oil fire, then a large oil fire, then bloodshed followed by a minor schooner explosion. All the treasure sank with the ship... save, of course, for a single piece of sea glass.

崩布里尼下落不明，大概是死了，雇主火冒三丈，最后没付报酬。但总体来说，这次抢劫的战果算是这二人犯罪生涯中比较成功的了。

Bombolini was assumed dead, the client was furious, and nobody got paid. All in all, it was one of the duo’s more successful heists.

“你没死啊？”崔斯特问道，“我以为你死定了呢。”

“Didn’t you die?” asked Fate. “I’m pretty sure you died.”

崩布里尼扭过头，由于这双掠食者的眼睛瞳距太宽，他无法看到自己的身体，但这个举动本身就已经相当英勇了。“我看着像是死了的样子吗？”

Bombolini tilted his head, unable to see any part of himself thanks to the wide setting of his predatory eyes—though the attempt was quite valiant. “Does it look like I’m dead?”

“我哪儿知道。”格雷福斯回答说，“没准是呢。”

“I dunno,” replied Graves. “Maybe.”

“要宰了他们吗，老大？”一个半鱼人不耐烦地说，这是个狙击观察员，长着虾虎鱼的头。

“Are we going to kill them, boss?” asked a fishman impatiently, this one a spotter resembling a large, bipedal goby.

“我同意虾虎说的。”他的搭档开口说，这是一只长着胳膊腿的鼓虾，捧着一杆很长很长的枪。“你说过他俩出卖过你，是吗？他俩做啥的？”

“I second Goby,” said his partner, a hunched-over humanoid pistol shrimp with a rather impressive long gun. “You said these guys double-crossed you before, right? What’s their deal?”

崩布里尼眨了眨眼，努力回忆这两个人究竟做了什么，核桃大小的脑子恨不得破壳而出。毕竟过了几十年，容易让人忘记当初头号敌人的各种细节。

Bombolini blinked, his walnut-sized brain chugging along as he attempted to remember what exactly their deal had been. After a few decades, one tends to forget the intricacies of their archnemeses.

格雷福斯。崔斯特。格雷福斯……还有……崔斯特。他俩搞什么来着？

Graves. Fate. Graves... but also... Fate. What is their deal?

想到了。

Eureka.

他想到了一件事，特别有趣，特别有用，足以彻底颠覆这场僵局。

He had arrived at something interesting. Something he could use. Something that would turn the entire confrontation on its head.

“他们是一起的。”他自信满满地猜测道。

“They’re together,” he guessed confidently.

屋内一片安静。

A pause.

“我们知道。”虾虎说。

“We know that,” replied Goby.

“我是说，他俩在一起。”崩布里尼又说了一遍，信心更足了，“我就知道他们最后会在一起。格雷福斯看人的眼光很差劲，而崔斯特是我见过最差劲的人。一切都说得通了！”

“No, they’re together,” Bombolini repeated, even more confidently. “I knew they’d end up with each other. Graves always had the worst taste in men, and Fate is the worst man I’ve ever met. It all makes sense!”

虾虎耸了耸肩。鼓虾叹了口气，重新看向楼上的那对盗贼。他一边调整自己的瞄准镜，一边暗自思忖：他到底是为什么，为什么要参与这种行动。

Goby shrugged. Shrimp sighed and turned back toward the pair of thieves above, adjusting the sight on his gun as he wondered why, exactly, he’d agreed to any of this in the first place.

二楼悬梯上，气氛可截然不同。

Up on the catwalk, however, the mood was decidedly different.

“他以为我俩是一起的。”崔斯特小声说，“就是那种在一起的一起。成双入对，罗曼蒂克。

“He thinks we’re together,” whispered Fate. “Like, together-together. A couple. Romantically.”

“我知道‘在一起’是什么意思，托比厄斯。”格雷福斯小声回答，比之前谨慎多了，“那我们怎么才能好好利用它呢？有什么计划？还有，他为什么说话这么难听？”

“I know what ‘together’ means, Tobias,” Graves whispered back, now decidedly more discreet than before. “But how do we use it? What’s the play? And why was he so mean?”

崔斯特一只手挠挠下巴，另一只手把那张红色的卡牌翻成金色的，同时思索这个问题。大家一起伴着巨大火球飞上天的概率还是大到他不能接受。好在崩布里尼和他的手下都放松了警惕，要放手一搏就得趁现在了。他需要搞出一件事，特别重大、特别愚蠢、足以颠覆这场僵局。他需要……

Fate stroked his chin with his free hand, flipping the errant red card into a gold card as he turned the question over in his head. The chance of everyone dying in a colossal fireball was still higher than he liked, but with Bombolini and his men off guard, now was the time for bold action. He needed something big. Something dumb. Something that would turn the entire confrontation on its head. He needed...

“我简直不敢相信，你又把我们拖下水！”崔斯特大声喊叫，恶狠狠地指着格雷福斯，同时确保大部分身体没暴露给狙击手。“你总是这样，总是不动脑子就突然出现！你五大三粗，从来都不懂技巧，你居然带着海克斯弹药和手雷来劫火药！我妈说得对，我们真的不应该在一起！”

“I cannot believe you got us into this mess again!” Fate shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Graves while making sure most of his body remained hidden from the sniper. “This is just like you, never thinking before you show up! You’re too big, you have no finesse, and you packed hex-shots and grenades for a powder job! My ma was right, we shouldn’t have stayed together!”

格雷福斯惊呆了，原因有许多。首先他从来都没见过崔斯特的母亲，甚至时至今日，他都不确定他母亲到底存不存在。其次，崔斯特并没有向他解释过这个计划，可现在却对格雷福斯的肌肉块和抢劫方案指手画脚起来。要知道他的体魄和头脑，可都是江洋大盗之中的佼佼者。

Graves was taken aback for several reasons. The first of which is that he had never met Fate’s mother, and, up until this point, had not been sure she even existed. The second was that Fate had not explained the plan to him and was now making jabs at Graves’ rugged burliness and masterful heist preparation—both of which made him a statuesque prince among thieves.

“喂，你瞎说什么呢？你才是一直吵吵自己多么多么聪明，结果呢，又接了一个破工作，现在你走投无路了吧？只能等着我来救你！要是叫我说了算，我们就应该做一些简单的工作，比如单纯的谋财害命，敲诈勒索！”

“Hey, what are you sayin’? You’re the one always goin’ on about how you’re so clever, and yet here we are, pullin’ another garbage job where you’re gonna die and I gotta save you! If it were up to me, we’d be doin’ easy jobs, like individual murders and light-to-heavy extortion!”

“可不是么，那都是因为你没有眼界。”崔斯特特意强调了“眼界”，同时向他挤眉弄眼。

“Yeah, because you have no vision!” Fate continued, emphasizing the word “vision” while winking prominently.

格雷福斯并没有立刻领会，而是继续跟他的搭档互相揭短。

Graves did not register this right away, and continued to bluster about his partner’s many shortcomings.

“这就是为什么我们总是在吵架。”崔斯特又使劲眨眼。这次终于领会了。

“That’s why we always fight,” Fate winked again. This one broke through.

在楼下，崩布里尼看得兴高采烈，而他身边的手下则是既无聊又无头绪。

Down below, Bombolini was ecstatic among an otherwise bored or confused crew.

当一个人被老朋友出卖，他的情绪反应就发生了不可逆的改变。他会变得多疑、猜忌、偶尔还会陷入隐忍复仇的幻想中。

When one is double-crossed by an old friend, their emotional chemistry is irreversibly altered. It makes them paranoid, delusional, and most importantly, occasionally taken with intricate revenge fantasies.

崩布里尼把所有症状都占全了。他经常沉浸在自己的幻想中，幻象他的两大仇敌在他的鲨鱼眼前爆发争执。这场争执会发生在一个装满了炸药的屋子或者货船里，然后在争吵到最激烈的时候，引爆炸弹把他们俩炸死，在天空中留下一股烟尘的字迹：“对不起，崩布里尼。”然后大家欢呼鼓掌，有人给他戴上王冠和腰带。哦，可能还会有权杖。

Bombolini embodied all of this. He often liked to entertain one of these fantasies wherein his two most hated enemies had an immediate falling out in front of his steely shark eyes. This falling out would take place in some sort of room or vessel with a heavy explosive payload that would, at the apex of the argument, burst into flames and detonate, killing them both as the smoke spelled out “We’re sorry, Bombolini.” Then everyone would cheer, and he would be given a crown and a sash. Possibly a scepter.

总之是一段细节很丰富的幻想。

It was a very intricate fantasy.

但这段幻想里不包含被一张金色卡牌正中前胸、被打飞到空中、顺着装卸大门掉进海里的情节。

What was not part of the fantasy was being hit squarely in the chest by a well-aimed gold card and flying out of the shipping door into the sea.

“动手！”崔斯特说着，从掩体后冲出来，跑进旁边一间小屋里，同时瞅准了炸药没堆满的地方，往墙上一连甩出几张金色卡牌。每张卡牌都炸出了一缕缕金色的亮线，震晕了崩布里尼的佣兵，他们随后便开始闭着眼睛乱开枪。

“Now!” said Fate, dashing out from his cover and into an adjoining office as he splashed the bare walls with gold cards wherever the explosives weren’t stacked high enough to ignite. Each card burst with a dazzling spray of golden filament, temporarily stunning Bombolini’s mercenaries who then immediately began firing in all directions.

格雷福斯跟上崔斯特穿过那个小屋，进入了仓库内部，这时一颗流弹击中了虾虎和鼓虾藏身的木箱，两个半鱼人一动也不敢动。子弹呼啸而过，虾虎看着鼓虾，鼓虾看着虾虎。他们之间仿佛经历了永恒。

As Graves followed Fate through the suite and into the guts of the larger warehouse, a stray bullet buried itself in the crate Goby and Shrimp were using for cover, and the two fish-men froze. With bullets whizzing through the air, Goby looked at Shrimp, and Shrimp looked at Goby. What felt like an eternity passed between them.

“我们应该没有危——”虾虎话音未落，就炸了。

“I think we’re sa—” said Goby, exploding.

第一阵爆炸撼动了整座仓库，崔斯特和格雷福斯踉跄地沿着一条颤颤巍巍的金属吊桥向前走，旁边全都是黑火药的木箱，这可比雇主当初说的还多出好几倍。

The first blast rocked the entire structure as Fate and Graves stumbled along a flimsy metal suspension bridge over far more crates of black powder than their client had originally described.

“不太妙。”崔斯特瞄了一眼脚下。

“That’s not good,” said Fate with a glance below.

“真不太妙。”格雷福斯说，“我知道我们刚才在演戏，但从我个人角度和专业角度，我现在对你不太满意。”

“It really isn’t,” replied Graves. “I know we was doing a bit, but on a personal and professional level, I am not happy with you right now.”

“你对我从来就没满意过！别说了，赶紧跑！”崔斯特大声说道，这时楼下几个带枪的佣兵抬头一看，立刻就发现头顶跑过来两个明显不是半鱼人的匪徒。

“You’re never happy with me, anyway! We gotta move!” exclaimed Fate as several armed mercenaries looked up from the gloom, suddenly noticing the two distinctly non-fishlike criminals above them.

格雷福斯内心很受伤，但是他不想表现出来，只是往悬梯下扔出一颗烟雾弹，让楼下整个一层都笼罩在腐蚀性的浓雾中。“本来应该挺好玩的，但我现在没什么心情。”他伴着佣兵们费力的喘息声解释道。

Graves, now more emotionally wounded than he wanted to let on, tossed a smoke grenade over the side of the catwalk, enveloping the first floor in a thick cloud of caustic fog. “That’s usually fun, but my heart’s just not in it right now,” he explained over the sound of dry-heaving mercenaries.

“你别跟个大宝贝似的行不行？你是个大老爷们！”崔斯特大声喊道，他要让计划继续进行下去，已经开始有枪声回荡在火药库房里了。

“Why are you being such a big baby? You’re a grown man!” shouted Fate, attempting to move the action along as stray shots rang out across the powder storage floor.

“别管我叫大宝贝！你总是招惹我这个块头的对手。每次都是我出力替你解围，你却一点都不知道感谢，崔斯特！”

“Stop calling me a big baby! You’re always taking shots at my size. I’m the muscle that saves the day every time you get your goose cooked. You’re ungrateful as hell, Fate!”

“我不知道感谢？我可没说突然消失好几个月去打什么卡马维亚鬼魂王子，然后又突然回来装腔摆谱。”

“I’m ungrateful? I’m not the one who disappeared for months to go fight some Camavor ghost prince, then rolled back into town one night like he owned the place.”

“他是鬼魂国王，而且多亏我把他打跑了，不然我们所有人都得变成鬼魂！你变鬼魂，我变鬼魂。大家全都变鬼魂。”

“He was a ghost king, and you’re lucky I fought him or we’d all be ghosts! You’d be a ghost, I’d be a ghost. Everyone would be a ghost!”

“你甚至都不在场！你以为我没读肖娜来的信吗？格雷福斯，我是欺诈大师，你是骗不了我的。他们把你留在了外面，全靠剪刀娃娃和光着胳膊的神奇小子拯救世界。”

“You weren’t even there! You think I don’t read Shauna’s letters? Graves, I’m a con man, you can’t trick me. They left you outside while scissors doll and the shirtless wonder saved the day.”

“不是那么回事，崔斯特。”格雷福斯黑着脸说，“那些只是流传的故事。我们从来不提当时的真正情况。”

“That ain’t how it went down, Fate,” said Graves darkly. “That’s just the story. We don’t talk about what really happened.”

“你可得了吧！你是想立功想得着了魔，再给你几十年你也成不了瓦洛兰的头号大英雄。”

“Oh, please! Your delusions of grandeur were annoying decades before you became Valoran’s number-one hero.”

“我们还在假装吵架吗，还是在真吵架？要是真吵架的话，我要一拳把你那顶傻帽子打进你喉咙里。”

“Is this still a fake fight or are we having a real fight? Because if it’s a real fight, I will punch that stupid hat through your mouth.”

“我看是真吵架！而且你知道吗？你真的浑身臭味，而且你从来都不认真动脑子，现在这个情形不适合用手雷！”

“I think it’s a real fight! And you know what else? You do stink, and you don’t think things through, and live grenades were not the best call here!”

“是啊，就是因为这样，所以当初我们才会分开！你觉得你比我强，你觉得你比自己这幅样子强。”

“Yeah, well, this is why we stopped working together the first damn time! Because you think you’re better than me, and you think you’re better than this!”

“如果我真的强呢？”崔斯特喊道，话说出口才意识到自己说了什么。

“And what if I am?” yelled Fate, only realizing what he’d said after he had said it.

在滚滚火焰、爆炸四起的仓库正面，崩布里尼幸存的手下纷纷穿过旁门，涌上了悬梯，众人累加的体重已经让墙上的螺钉开始崩落。许多佣兵都被严重燎伤，熊熊燃烧的怒火需要发泄的对象。

From the burning, rupturing front of the warehouse, Bombolini’s surviving mercenaries poured through the service door and onto the catwalk, its bolts decoupling from the walls under their combined weight. Many of the gunmen were badly singed and filled with a roiling anger fit to match their newfound crispiness.

“我们吵架可以等一等，该死的！你赶紧从那扇门出去！”格雷福斯命令道，他和崔斯特立刻放下了争执，向着出口狂奔，脚下的悬梯正在迅速坍塌。

“We can fight later, dammit! Get yer behind out that door!” Graves commanded as he and Fate dropped their argument and made a run for the exit with a rapidly sinking catwalk buckling underfoot.

距离门口还有六步的距离，又一阵爆炸从楼下的火药仓库袭来，碧蓝大道的佣兵全都被烈焰吞噬，他们脚下的木箱开始一个接一个爆炸。格雷福斯的手雷放出的烟雾是一种可燃、呛眼睛、有臭味的混合成分，具备多种战术用途，在这时立刻被点燃了。格雷福斯完全没想到这个效果，虽然卖给他手雷的店老板曾告诉过他好几十次这种烟雾是可燃的。所以可想而知，被点燃的烟雾又继续引爆了更多黑火药木箱，于是这位白净的纸牌高手和这位鲁莽的邋遢大汉被气浪掀飞，穿过一面危墙，落到楼下，摔到一个满地淤泥的门厅中。这里同样堆满了炸药。

Six strides from the doorway, another blast tore upward from the powder floor, consuming the Azure Way mercenaries in a pillar of raging flame as the crates beneath them began to blow one by one. The smoke from Graves’ grenade, a highly flammable mix of stinging, blinding, and stinking components deployed for tactical measures, immediately caught fire—something Graves did not account for, despite his supplier telling him several dozen times that the smoke was flammable. This, of course, ignited and exploded even more crates of black powder, launching both the slick card-sharp and the daring bath-avoider through a crumbling brick wall, down one floor, and into a grimy foyer—also filled wall-to-wall with explosives.

在他们的劫掠生涯中，这次行动依然算得上是比较成功的。

“呃，”格雷福斯呻吟道，“真是烂透了。”

崔斯特摸了摸头顶，找自己的帽子，确定帽子没丢以后，才捂住自己的肋骨。“是啊，烂透了。”

“托比厄斯，如果我们回不去了……我要说一件事。”

“什么事，伙计？”崔斯特笑着说。

“我希望你先死。”格雷福斯一边笑一边咳嗽。

“嘁，那我谢谢你。”

仓库再次剧烈摇晃，砖石和瓦片重重砸到地上，烟雾顺着二楼墙上的大洞飘过来，火苗舔着密集叠放的海克斯炸药箱——箱子上画着另一种苦瓜脸小人被炸飞的标志。

“难道就没人注意到这玩意有多危险吗？”格雷福斯说着，一瘸一拐地走向一扇好像是出口的门。

“这里是比尔吉沃特，马尔科姆。无论是什么玩意都不会有人注意。”

“……我注意到了！”传来一个熟悉的声音，可能稍微变得沙哑了一些。

崩布里尼用浮夸的姿态站在这哥俩面前，胸前多了一块淤青，手里的鱼叉炮已经上好了膛。鲨形大汉面对着比尔吉沃特最著名的佣兵二人组，身后则是唯一的出口。格雷福斯在门外的码头上看到一个湿漉漉的鲨鱼轮廓，估计崩布里尼刚才一直都躲在哪里，等了好几分钟才隆重亮相。

“神啊，怎么又是这条蠢鱼。”崔斯特嘟囔道。

“就是我，你有什么办法！”崩布里尼大叫道，咳嗽了一声，“你们知道过了这么多年我再次见到你们，心里在想什么吗？过了这么久，这么——”

“没兴趣。”格雷福斯说着，举起他巨大的霰弹枪，对准了鲨鱼人身边的炸药箱。格雷福斯扣动扳机，子弹发射，一切都被浓烟笼罩。

Among their heists, it still counted as one of the more successful ones.

“Ugh,” groaned Graves. “That sucked.”

Fate fumbled above his head to make sure his hat was still there, and only when he confirmed its safety did he hold his screaming ribs. “Yeah, it did.”

“Tobias, if we don’t make it out of this... I just wanna say one thing.”

“What is it, friend?” smiled Fate.

“I hope you die first,” Graves cough-laughed.

“Aw, shucks, that’s sweet.”

The warehouse shook again as debris and chunks of roof smacked hard against the floor, smoke poured through the gaping second-story hole in the wall, and flames licked tightly packed boxes of hexplosives—these emblazoned with a different frowning cartoon man in the process of blowing up.

“Did no one notice how wildly unsafe this was?” asked Graves, hobbling toward what appeared to be a service exit.

“It’s Bilgewater, Malcolm. Nobody notices anything.”

“Nobody... except for me!” said a familiar, if slightly raspier, voice.

Bombolini, now sporting a thick purple bruise in the center of his torso, stepped theatrically before the duo, his harpoon gun primed as his large, sharky shape stood between Bilgewater’s most-noticed mercenaries and the only way out. Graves caught sight of a damp, shark-shaped spot on the dock outside. Bombolini had likely been hiding there, waiting minutes for this reveal.

“Gods, not this donut again,” Fate muttered.

“And yet, it is!” Bombolini exclaimed, stifling a cough. “Do you know what I thought when I saw you two after all these years? After all that time, all that—”

“Not interested,” said Graves, pointing his massive shotgun at a container of explosives directly next to the shark-man. Graves pulled the trigger, the gun fired, and everything went up in smoke.

Several hundred arm spans from the rupturing warehouse once filled with far too many explosives to actually steal, Malcolm Graves and Twisted Fate suddenly appeared in the air a length and a half above a quaint little fishing pier... along with some residual smoke and flame, as Fate’s teleportation timing had not been perfect. The two crashed onto the ground with Graves’ gun landing squarely on his stomach. The sound he made was a bit like “uhbloof,” though it could have been any number of other expletives.

“Those blue cards sure are useful,” Fate bragged from flat on his newly injured back, dusting off his hat with the arm that wasn’t cradling his possibly broken ribs. It had been a long day.

“Yeah, but they’re never useful in the beginning,” wheezed Graves, a little toasty and bruised, but otherwise none the worse for wear. “We should use them before a gunfight breaks out. For stealing and whatnot.”

“That takes the artistry out of it. You don’t build a name for yourself by sticking to the shadows—you have to give the people a show!” Fate replied as the warehouse’s frame sagged in the distance and flames erupted furiously from still-unexploded payloads. He theatrically twirled his hand a bit, as if to underline the point.

“Fair,” said Graves, unconvinced.

The pair sat up in their blackened clothes, watching everything explode and then explode some more. It was almost romantic. If one considered that sort of thing romantic. Which, interestingly enough, they did.

“So, uh... what now?” Fate said, breaking the silence as quickly as possible. “Double-cross our dirty client? Dig a grave for whatever’s left of Bombolini?”

Graves chuckled. “Oh, we’re definitely doing that first thing. Nobody tries to blow me up without me blowing them up. As for Bombolini... I’d bet good money the shark is still out there. He’s like me. Too dumb to explode.”

“My friend, you’re the most brilliant dummy I ever did meet,” smiled Fate. “You’ll never explode. And I mean that sincerely.”

“Damn right,” puffed Graves. “Though, now that we’ve had it out... you and I need to have a conversation.”

“Right,” Fate sighed. He was tired of looking for ways to avoid apologizing, and all the adrenaline made him feel better about breaking his cardinal rule of never doing it for any reason.

He still wouldn’t say the word “sorry,” though. That was a bridge too far.

“Malcolm, I did not mean to imply that I was better than you. When we dissolved the business—”

“Stop, stop, stop,” said Graves, laying his shotgun behind himself as he dangled his legs over the water. “I already hate this. Apology accepted—next round’s on you.”

“Good man,” replied Fate thankfully, gazing across the sea as the sun began to set.

Graves looked over at his partner to add another quip, but noticed, perhaps for the first time, that there was a certain angularity to Tobias’ features that he had thus far failed to appreciate. A strong jaw, a shockingly unbroken nose, a bold choice in semi-fashionable hats. He was an objectively terrible person, but maybe the right kind of terrible for...

Uh-oh, he thought.

Malcolm Graves, now much older, only somewhat wiser, but infinitely more worldly, measured his next words more carefully than most things he did or said on any given day. Which was especially surprising to him, since navigating the complex relationship between two criminal masterminds such as themselves was not really his strong suit, nor had he ever given it much thought. He wondered... Why worry so much about Tobias’ opinion of him? It wasn’t like it mattered. They had their roles, after all, and—

“Malcolm,” Fate interrupted. “Do you have a concussion?”

“It’s possible,” Graves sighed, but not in a sad or tired way. More of a concussed way.

“Alright, let me look,” said the very injured Fate, brushing Graves’ hair aside as he looked for signs of a bruise. “We both know you’re a durable fella, but neither of us is invincible.”

“Not like Bombolini,” said Graves, confused by the welling excitement over Fate playing with his hair.

“I am legitimately dumbfounded by that,” Fate offered. “I remember that boat heist. Our old friend was caught in the middle of a deeply vicious detonation.”

“Deserved it, though. I do not have terrible taste in men. I have good taste in terrible men, and there is absolutely a difference.”

Fate finished inspecting his partner’s head, which didn’t exactly produce any new information, as he didn’t know what a concussion was supposed to look like. He gazed at Graves’ rugged features as the setting sun danced across his boyishly unkempt hair, and then considered all of those words together in a sentence, and then immediately recoiled at the complete thought. “Your taste isn’t terrible, Malcolm. It’s catastrophic.”

“Catastrophic?” Graves fired back. “Name one example. You can’t.”

“The Northman,” Fate said almost instantly. “The trader with the cockroach tattoo. That Buhru cultist—”

“Not a cultist.”

“Tried to sacrifice us both, but sure, not a cultist. The whale guy. The octopus guy. The second whale guy.”

“Orca.”

“An orca is a kind of whale. The monk. The vastaya. The Noxian.”

Graves winced. “Alright, he was bad.”

“A Noxian, Malcolm. From Noxus. People talked about that one.”

“More racist than I would have preferred in a man, in hindsight,” Graves allowed. “But it ain’t like you’re bringing home the greatest lovers in history. You ain’t that slick.”

“Excuse me, I am very slick,” Fate protested. “No matter the size, shape, make, or model, none can resist the charms of Tobias Felix. I have conned hundreds—nay, thousands—of dew-eyed tourists across the whole of this vast and gullible land.”

“Not this one,” laughed Graves, a little too forcefully. “Or, uh... you know.”

“Y... yes, of course, I am aware,” Fate responded, not making eye contact as he fiddled with his hat.

The two sat in silence for a while. Or relative silence, considering the towering flames and brutal detonations and screaming and shouting in the distance.

“Sweet Tommy Kench, look at that sucker burn,” said Graves, still dangling his legs off the pier like the world’s grungiest adult child. “Tobias, I’ve been thinking. And don’t get me wrong, I do love a crime or twenty, and you’ll be there for literally all of them—”

“What about Shauna? Or that lady with the laughing jar?” asked Fate with a tinge of poorly concealed jealousy, despite Graves having been gay for the better part of four decades.

“Vayne,” Graves corrected, more deliberately than was necessary for such a normal and casual conversation between platonic business associates, “is a good friend. But she’ll only help if we’re killing monsters. And for the love of all that’s sacred, never call her ‘Shauna.’ She will break your neck by looking at it. As for the other one... I don’t even want to deal with that right now.”

“She’s scary,” said Fate. “Never seen clothes like that before. So many hands.”

“She’s very scary,” Graves agreed. “I’m afraid she’s gonna kick me through a wall or something.

“Point is, I’m meeting new people. I’m seeing the world. Piltover. The Shadow Isles. I saw Camavor, Tobias. I’m expanding my horizons. I might even want to expand ‘em more. Hear Ixtal’s opening up. Could be good money out there... you know... if you wanted to come along for the ride.”

He rustled through his coat, producing a familiar blue playing card. “In which case, I probably wouldn’t need this anymore. Since you’d be around.”

Fate chuckled. “Why don’t you hold onto that for now? Think of it as... a souvenir.”

Graves grinned, slipping it back into his pocket. “I do like the sound of that.”

The partners smiled foolishly at this, each imagining various swashbuckling criminal misadventures while sitting at an awkward physical distance apart.

“But, you know, as, uh... partners,” Graves specified.

“Yes, obviously. Partners. In crime,” Fate added.

“Nothing else.”

“Nope.”

“Nada.”

“No sir.”

They concluded this exchange with a simultaneous fake cough. Graves looked unblinking at the water, and Fate looked at the underside of his hat. Far off in the distance, the warehouse burned and burned.

It was, all in all, one of their better heists.