Exploration, floor 1 b

Might we rest our steps awhile?

<You want to talk about how everyone's grown as weak as they were immediately after they entered into a contract with me, right?>

I see that it hasn't escaped your notice as well, Manager.

<I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. This is likely not a permanent phenomenon, anyway. Right, Faust?>

... Correct.

Indeed, Entering Sisyphe through indirect means, such as the Suicide Vending Machine, does not change the fact that we have entered another state of existence as "customers" of the department store. Ergo, our bodies as we perceive them in the phenomenal sense must have been reconstructed according to the rules of this place, which involves the Shadowed and the Symbolic -

H-hold on!

So you're basically sayin' that this place is to blame for making us weaker, and we're gonna get back to normal once we're out, am I right?

... Correct.

Hmm~ Then rather than waiting for more explanation or brainstorming for ways to get stronger...

Best we find Meur and get out of this place, chop-chop.

Happy to have a consensus for once. Our highest priority at the moment is locating Meursault; we best table any intelligence pertaining to this phenomenon until that primary objective is accomplished.

And if we run into fights? Any plans for that?

<Not to worry. I don't think they can perceive us very well without Meursault, anyway.>

Surprise, surprise...

What? Finally decided to show me to the restroom?

Got any empty bottles left? A spare palm would do, too.

I... don't think we have any empty bottles or... spare palms... Sorry... ha... ha...

Damn. I don't have enough eyeballs for this season's new collection...

The customer gnaws anxiously at their fingernails.

Thank goodness I booked my dermal perm before the trend died! Once they layer the curl into every ridge of my skin, nobody will be able to tear their eyes away from me!

Strangers - stop checking me out. I'm halfway through my makeover treatment. You couldn't tell who I was even if you tried.

*sigh* This is why I hate coming down here. I suppose it can't be helped - the first floor is the only place that provides the service...

Stop staring at me!

This trend had better die soon. I don't have a single patch of bare skin left for another polka dot.

A pile of unrecognizably mangled bodies that fell from one of the upper floors.

A scattered group of Le Kaki are busily scouring through the gore, pocketing what Golden Hide dregs and eyeballs they can get their hands on.

<S-so... Were you able to find them?>

They're gone... And I don't mean that like we lost one or two people - everyone except us vanished into thin air.

C-come on~ Joke's over, everybody, come on out... Th-this isn't funny!

<... I'm not sure what the issue is on their side, but I don't think it's anything to panic about.>

Oh! Right! Dante can see where everyone is. All right, where are the others?

<... They're in the restroom. Looks like they're trying all sorts of things to leave, but... not with much success.>

They wouldn't have doubled back just to loaf around in a situation like this. Maybe there's some rule or phenomenon peculiar to this place that dragged them all back to the restroom?

<Let's go find Meursault first. The restroom issue can... probably wait a little longer.>

<There you are, Meursault! I knew you'd be here.>

I am.

What the heck, Meur! Ya could at least pretend to be surprised to see us. We came to save ya!

.......

I quietly communicated in a way that only Meursault could hear.

<Meursault, do you...>

<... remember everything?>

Yes. I remember every event following my entry to the Grand Magasin Sisyphe, including the events on the second floor.

<I don't think the other Sinners do, though.>

I have heard that the Grand Magasin periodically conducts a reset of its stock, internally designated "Liquidation."

<Right... A "reset"...>

<Okay, so now that we have a second chance... Do you think, if we were to make different choices this time around, we could secure the Golden Bough and escape the Grand Magasin?>

There is no way to know that at the present.

However, some things have carried over through the Liquidation.

<Like what?>

Every item we have purchased from the shops on each floor.

<The eyeballs, too? Good. At least we have that.>

And... this as well, Manager.

With his usual, stoic cadence, Meursault produced a piece of torn flesh. It was wreathed in a golden glow.

<Kinda looks like...>

<... a piece of that thing the Rouges created in the Luxury Hall. That must be where it's from.>

It is likely a vestige of what emerged when we tore through what they called "the Cradle."

<... Um, it's faint, but I think it's beating. Like a heart...>

Hey, hey! Whatcha two gossiping about over there?

<N-no, we weren't gossiping. We were just... having a very normal reunion, y'know?>

<Right, Meursault? Aw, you have no idea how glad I am to see you again!>

... Correct.

...?

We'd better keep this on the down low from the Sinners for now, at least until I can put this troubling hunch to rest. Thankfully, Meursault seems to have picked up on my reluctance to share.

Who are you people?

Back off. I found this material first. Finders keepers. It belongs to our store now.

"Material"...? Um... Look, this dude is our... uh, "colleague." Can we have him back, please?

"Colleague"... Hm. I've heard that word before. Is it a brand name?

Uh...

From what we've seen of this place so far... I don't know if common sense is all that reliable in here.

When you said he belongs to your store... does that mean you're gonna put him to work?

No. We have more than enough staff for this shop. It's the material that's in shortage.

Material...? Oh, okay. I suppose you wanna, uh... borrow Meursault's uniform, then...?

You strangers are impossible to communicate with. I'm at my wits' end here...

The employee gave us an exasperated look.

I said we're in a shortage of material. Material. What's so hard to understand about that?

Didn't you hear the announcement just now? The trend has changed again. A few seasons from now, there will be another thing that becomes the new trend. That's why we - and this shop - will always be in need of more material!

I get that, I get that, but what the hell does that have to do with -

<Meursault, let's get this over with.>

<No point in doing this whole song and dance all over again.>

We will conduct services of equivalent value to the fabric I would offer. In return for the services rendered, you will release me.

Services, huh?

The task of helping the out-of-fashion Mannequins to the exit should provide sufficient value.

In addition, I request a temporary release from your custody to accompany these individuals. These gauntlets in my possession will be effective in helping the Mannequins to the exit.

That's... that's fair. We really need to get that over with, anyway.

Fine, I'll take that deal. Three should be enough.

... The hell's a Mannequin? And what does "helping them to the exit" even mean...?

<Mannequins are what they call Distortions in here, and "helping them to the exit" means "defeating them." ... I think.>

... Dante, did I miss a pamphlet or something?

<... Maybe?>

I will take the lead.

Guys, we have Meursault now. Why don't we just split and never come back?

<I don't think we can solve this problem by just running away, Rodya.>

Uh... why not? I'm a good runner.

Fleeing would not prevent me from being placed in storage.

Hm...? But you're out of "storage" now, aren'tcha?

Maybe this place has its own Laws - just like the Great Lake.

*sigh* Let's do as Meursault says. I don't know why or how, but he seems to be well-acquainted with the department store.

So you managed to help them to the exit. Thanks to you, more customers can now access our shop.

Whew... We've got so much on our plates at the moment. We need to redesign and revamp the entire lineup, what with the trend changing.

Shame we're forced to part with this material, but that's that...

Your attention, please. The Houndstooth Season has officially ended. We are pleased to inform you that...

Good grief! The trend changed again while I was wasting time shooting the breeze with you. Scram if you're not buying anything!

Take a look around. The Casualwear Hall is catered to ever-changing trends. No need to weigh your options when it comes to fast fashion - just get one and dress up before the trend goes!

For Lost Customers: Please keep your eyes raised up to enjoy the Rouge collection. Keep your eyes fixed on the ground to enjoy the Noir collection.

Oh! You look like you've just got here, too! Right?

Dubois's eyes dart about nervously.

.......

This employee here isn't so eager to greet us.

<He probably doesn't need to talk to us.>

Welp, then let's not bother 'em and move on? Sounds like a win-win.

.......

.......

We can almost feel his guarded stare against our skin. If he's not about to stop us from browsing, why is he watching us like a hawk...?

I don't recognize the material... What do you think these clothes are made of?

The customers. This means they purchase and wear clothing, but may also become clothing themselves.

Customers? Oh... I see now. That's why the clerk called you "material" earlier.

Right... So how big is Sisyphe's "clientele"? The customers trapped in this place?

Approximately 300 million.

... Pretty sure I misheard that.

You did not. There is no discharge date for the Sisyphe Penalty, and those who enter remain permanently. Its population is theoretically on an infinite upward trend.

I think we've looked at pretty much everything they have to offer here.

Well, let's head to the other store up ahead and find out.

<Yeah, to the next store we go.>

Oh... How regrettable. We carry nothing suitable for Strangers of your... sensibilities. Return once you've cultivated some understanding of fashion - and raised your rank, too.

And how do we raise that?

There is but one way to raise one's standing in a department store, is there not?

... Spend money. Lots of it.

Precisely. Then until we meet again, Strangers of truly... arresting fashion.

Please come back later.

It looks something like a suit... only cut from a far more classy design.

Huh. That's actually a lot nicer than I expected. So chic!

... Let's look around some more.

Ooh, don'tcha think this one's made for Dante?

<Y-you think so?>

Ya bet! That fit is practically beggin' for ya. And we've got those eyeballs from earlier - why not treat yourself?

Hang on. It's the only kind of currency they'll accept around here. We should set our priorities right before we splash cash like -

Eeep... 450 eyeballs? What a ripoff!

Or maybe we're just too broke.

... I considered for a moment whether I should mention that we've spent multiples of 450 eyeballs in our journey so far, but I decided against it.

<Yeah, these garments don't seem that interested in being "trendy.">

When a designer's name carries enough weight, ya don't chase trends. Trends chase ya instead.

Slap a famous label and a ridiculous price on something this fancy, and people will line up before ya lift a finger.

No need to run yourself ragged.. to keep up with every little craze.

Welcome, dear customers -

That Mannequin seemed tougher than the others... Ya think it's this golden needle?

Yeah, here's your needle. So... care to explain how this is your key to joining the Luxury brands?

It's just something that's struck me all of a sudden. Does my brand need strong heritage to enter the world of high fashion? No. Technical perfection? Clearly not. Rare, high-grade materials? Not at all... But I've been so obsessed with meeting those arbitrary conditions that I've trapped myself in this glorified glass jar of a lobby.

Yes, a signature piece... What I lacked was the signature piece - do you understand what I'm getting at? - the singular idea that would seize every customer's eye just from a quick glance...

Have you brought me the needle?

The corpse pile that fell in the center of the floor appears to have burst and splattered all the way over here.

Give it some time, and the Kakis'll pick it clean and make the way for us to pass.

Oh, hey! Looks like we have enough Prestige points to move on to the next floor.

Sure looks like it. Wonder if this means we're now Sisyphe VIPs or something?

Oh, hello again! I found the escalator, but it won't run.

Really? That's weird, why wouldn't it...

Wait, it's running now that you're here! You must've found a way to unlock your way onto the upper floor!

Well, we did a lil' shopping... some grunt work... some more grunt work...

Can I tag along? I promise I'll repay you guys as soon as I find a way to make some money myself.

Don't see what the harm could be... Hop right on, I guess?

I can finally go upstairs, thanks to you! I won't forget what you've done for me.

That way... Maybe there's more to gather over there...? Dammit, I took the wrong spot!

This spot is mine. Fuck off!

Whoa, you're a prickly one, aren'tcha. Fine, fine~ we'll back off~

Hey! Lift your foot. Didn't you just step on an eyeball?!

... Uh, are you talking to me?

Did I see that wrong...? Whatever. Stop skulking around, then! You're throwing me off!

... Hey, don't you think you should apologize if you got the wrong idea? *sigh* Actually, never mind.

They seem busy collecting eyeballs.

What exactly are they selling here? No, actually, why's anything being sold here in the first place?

I mean, it's a department store~

Grand Magasin... A department store is, by nature, a place where a myriad little squares crowd upon one another in pursuit of profit.

I suppose we'll have to look around if we want to learn anything more in detai -

It should be right about... now.

<... Yi Sang, come this way for a minute?>

Hm? Is there aught that requires my attention?

Wha? What was that?

What is that?!

I don't know, but whatever it is, something huge...

... has plummeted from above.

You have my gratitude, Dante. I was nearly bathed in their blood.

That was close. We would have sustained a severe impact... had we moved a few steps closer to the side.

Fantastic intuition, Executive Manager! Once again, you have saved the day and prevented unnecessary loss of personnel.

.......

It appears to be... a huge mass of human bodies tangled together, though the remains are far too severely mutilated to discern any individual forms.

A big one dropped. Might be plenty worth salvaging this time. Hope the customers were heavy eyeball-spenders.

Damn it, I'm out of empty bottles! Hey, you borrowed three from me last season. When are you going to pay me back?!

Fuck off! This season's new drop is all... all mine. No one else's!

The pile that fell from the sky turns out to be corpses, mangled beyond all recognition. A curious golden glow, bright like sunlight, winks through the gaps between the bodies.

Customers of the department store, of "Le Kaki" variant, are desperately scrambling among the corpses for eyeballs and dregs of the Golden Hide.

The Mannequins must first be guided to the exit, Manager. Next is the transaction in which I am the object of exchange.

Come on, Dante. We need to go get Meursault.

That Mannequin seemed tougher than the others... Ya think it's this golden needle?

It looks well over a foot long. At that size... it's more like a harpoon head.

<It feels a lot like that... Golden Resin thing we saw earlier.>

Huh. Then maybe this Mannequin got juiced up by the Golden Bough too?

<Can't say for sure... but I think so. Meursault, could you grab that for now?>

There is still unfinished business left in this area, Manager.

A familiar blue light leaks out from within. For now, searching the surrounding area should take priority.

We should return to the restroom and regroup first.

We have not yet attained the rank required to proceed to the next floor.

The escalator now appears operational, Manager.

However, there are still matters to conclude before our departure.

<Well, we returned here just in case, but...>

Executive Manager. Are you able to see Meursault's present surroundings? I recall you awakened a highly convenient ability in an effort to assist the more lacking members of our team.

Would you use that ability and tell us what you see?

Yeah, Manager Bud. Tell us what you see.

<…….>

<I see a carpeted floor, and rows of clothes on display. Meursault's standing absolutely still.>

<He's not tied up, and there's someone who looks like a store clerk beside him.>

Tch. Not much time has passed since the execution, and he already allows himself to be taken captive. An uncharacteristic display of incompetence coming from him - and on multiple fronts.

Huh... Carpet, and clothes on display... Well, it's more than we had to go on before, at least.

Thankfully, Meursault is at the same spot he was last time. Well, no reason to dally...

What... is this?

Heat lamp for dermal perm. It likely allows for its users to fold wrinkles into shapes they deem aesthetic, or allow them to refine the grains of their skin.

Aha... But why? For what...?

As Meursault explained, an information pamphlet tucked under the heat lamp caught my eye.

The instant I picked it up, Ishmael was in front of me with her hand jut out like she was waiting to receive something.

Gonna read that, Dante?

<Uh... Yeah...? But... You can read it first, I don't mind.>

I surrendered - I mean, I handed the pamphlet over to Ishmael.

Hmm, let's see... While undergoing the dermal perm procedure, the client's form assumes that of a "procedure customer," and becomes indistinguishable from others... Aha! So that's why they're all wearing those gas masks...

This is the most at ease she's been ever since we entered here.

<Y-yeah...>

Heat lamp for dermal perm.

According to Meursault, this object has been assigned the symbolic function of denying passage. So, we can't cross it.

Wait, then...

<This is not a barrier. It's just two rods connected with a rope, which means I can leap over this. It's safe to leap over this. We are not bound by these rules anyway...>

<RAAAAAAAH!>

Wh-huh? Dante, ya okay?

Did you trip trying to jump over that rope barrier?

<I-I thought I could leap over it if I defined it as something else...>

... Surface level self-deception cannot truly redefine a symbolic element, Manager.

Symbols are things nailed solidly into the deepest parts of consciousness. One must commit to a significant time investment should they wish to redefine the symbol... or be born with the "aptitude" to do so.

<Ugh... Okay, then what about you? Can't you do what you did back at the escalator room?>

... That was... mm.

That was made possible due to the particulars of that situation, in which I and a Giant were both gazing at the same symbol.

What are ya two having so much fun gossipin' about?

<Ah, just discussing ways to get around this thing. Turns out there isn't - let's just take the roundabout route.>

A display shelf full of unidentifiable objects.

Heat lamp for dermal perm.

Just a chair. We could take a quick breather here, but there's no reason to do that.

Needle-thin bones jut like thorns from folds of sagging flesh.

A hide of skin stitched with something lies stuck to the floor like an unwashed rag. Its lips, eyes, and teeth have all lost their distinguishing features and emulsified into one slick mass.

Among the ordinary clothes hang grotesque pieces.

I recognize some of those shirts and pants from the basement floors.

So this is... a "Mannequin?"

<Yeah. I think. Oh, also - only Meursault seems to be able to fight in here, so you can put your mace down.>

Only Meur? How's that?

Of the worlds that comprise the Grand Magasin Sisyphe are "the Symbolic" and "the Shadow."

Only I am permitted to directly interact with items and entities within the Symbolic. Though one may be able to exert a marginally extended level of control as long as they are in my close proximity, it will not be sufficient enough to engage these enemies in battle.

Are ya sayin'... we can't participate in any battles that take place in here?

It is possible in the Shadowed.

O~kay! That kinda doesn't mean anything to me, so thanks for nothing...? Guess we'll have to find out as we go.

*sigh* Let's do that. Sitting here and questioning every little nonsensical thing we find in this place won't get us anywhere.

... Weird. Meursault's just being Meursault, but it's not like Dante to be so calm and collected in a situation like this...

<.......>

Like earlier, when you so confidently stated without proof that these people won't be able to perceive us without Meursault... Ah, well. We'll have time to talk about this later.

No way... The trend changed again?

What's in fashion now? I didn't hear the announcement.

More importantly, how can you be walking around in hideous clothes like those? Aren't you even ashamed of yourselves? That couldn't possibly be the current trend!

Stripes will return one day! Fashion always comes back around!

Kergh... You dress in such repulsive rags... yet you call me outdated...?

Next time... I'll make it. I'll be the one... to make it to the runway...

<It's just a corpse.>

The corpse of a Rouge. Blood has pooled under her skin, making her face appear red and swollen.

This corpse is not so different from the others we've seen. Blood-slick eyeballs - scavenged from somewhere - lie scattered around it.

A small nail stands out among the vials and containers of various makeup products.

Meursault took the small nail.

"Coverage That Never Fades! Feel the Refreshing Lymph of Freshly Shed Skin! Instant Sellout!"

... Still seems unnecessary to inspect the product itself.

Don't bother talking to me you're not going to lend me anything...

I think I understand what this installation was trying to depict.

A handbag, or a pair of gloves... Made from customers.

An installation of mediocre craftsmanship. Doesn't look like it knows whether it wants to be a handbag or a pair of gloves.

The garment's drooping folds quiver faintly. It's not a very enticing sight.

Mannequins stand on display.

<... Meursault, can you get those things to look away?>

Yes, Manager.

Meursault punched the Mannequin in the face, rotating its head toward the wall. He repeated that process several more times against the other ones.

And we're suddenly letting off steam against random Mannequins because...?

<Don't worry about it.>

This corpse is not so different from the others we've seen. Blood-slick eyeballs - apparently scavenged from the bodies that fell - lie scattered around it.

The open magazine contains an article about dermal perms, a special procedure apparently offered only on the first floor.

Dubois lies dead.

Your instruction has been carried out, Manager.

... I'll be honest. Killing someone who's been nothing but nice to us doesn't sit right with me.

... We need money if we're going upstairs.

This was one way to get it... Unless we plan on squatting here selling clothes - or spending the whole day rummaging through corpses like the people outside.

Well, I'm not trying to guilt Dante for making that decision. They must've had something in mind when they ordered Meursault to do that.

<…….>

An attire fashioned into the shape of a bird. Could also be a customer who's been put in storage.

The placard reads "TRENDING NOW," but I haven't come across a single customer wearing this hat.

Stop staring at me!

Black garments hang beneath the spotlights.

Mannequins stand on display. With their heads rotated to face the wall, they can't look at us anymore.

A department-store directory. Damage has obscured much of it, but this department store definitely goes higher than the fourth floor.

... Hey, what's up with this map? Looks a bit weird to me...

<Since the space we're inhabiting is more of a mental construct than a physical one, I wouldn't be surprised if its size is many times greater than its appearance might suggest.>

Makes sense, this place is supposed to hold... 300 million people, after all.

Oh, does it say which floor has the Golden Bough?

Why would anyone put that in the direc - Hm. I suppose that's not so implausible in here, lemme take a closer look.

.......

Darn. I don't see it.

A department-store directory. The floors go higher than 4F... and that's where we must go.

In elegant script: "The season's boldest avant-garde collection from Le Rouge! If its message fails to move you, you're not ready for its magnificence!"

An unidentified object sits on display, red cloth and flesh snarled together beyond distinction.

An upside-down Mannequin juts its feet toward the ceiling.

An upside-down Mannequin that displays its upper body, lower body, head, and feet all at once. The entire outfit does fit neatly into view.

A wall patched over with Golden Hide.

The presence is faint, but something about it feels like the Golden Bough.

.......

A soft and warm peal of laughter brushes past the fingertips laid against the wall.

A pale light, reminiscent of the Golden Bough, glimmers beneath its surface.

<... I figured it would hurt... but I didn't expect it to swallow you whole.>

<You good, Meursault?>

There is no issue.

*sigh* Well, that's a lesson learned. When it trembles, take it as a warning that it's winding up to charge.

That thing can really zoom, huh? Like, all the way from the other end of the room... How the heck are you supposed to dodge that...?

<Just gotta... get good, I guess?>

What's all that?

Clothes that have fallen out of fashion due to the passing of the trend seasons.

Mm...

They're tucked away in such an out-of-the-way corner. It almost seems like someone was trying to h - Wh-what are you doing?

Rummaging through the pile for its contents.

<... Are there anything of note other than eyeballs?>

Few scraps of leather with something written on them.

What do they say?

... "The era of fluorescent plaid trend will be upon us soon, I know it."

"When that time comes, I'll take these clothes and rise to the runway, and - "

... I think that's enough, Meur. Let's move on.

Let's, uh... put those back into the pile.

<... Let's do that.>

Something is concealed within a fissure in the wall.

Meursault picked up the Out-of-style Rouge Clothing.

All the scents are starting to blend together.

A familiar fragrance hangs in the air of the perfume section.

There's something strange and peculiar about the smell. ... It's starting to register more as a stench.

A bittersweet fragrance lingers in the air.

The merchandise here is different from what was on the displays along the way.

Outfits favored by the Kakis are piled up here. Someone probably stashed them here.

Clothes have been heaped haphazardly in the corner.

The shelves are packed with clothes woven from skin and flesh.

The sign reads, "BLOWOUT SALE". None of it seems worth spending eyeballs on.

It says [Origami CollectioN ° 92, 1 of 5].

An exhibit shaped like a tangle of intertwined limbs.

The entire outfit fits neatly into view.

You're supposed to show the Mannequins to the exit, not me!

Cut it out! It hurts!

Oww...! That was an accident, right?

Did I offend you or something? Please, I'm sorry. Don't hurt me!

...! Are you customers, or blasphemers?!

Are you here to kill me and scrape the Golden Resin from my flesh?!

What is the issue? Do you not find my label to your liking?

Dyeing clothing with blood? That's a rather outmoded fashion to pursue, isn't it? How tacky.

... Who are you?

<Well... that answers the question. I'm not imagining things.>

I - and all of us, by extension - have experienced this already.

You people are always so awfully lucky, aren't you?

Look at that gory mess! Must've fallen from the sixth floor, give or take. This pile'll make this spot famous as a prime drop zone for a while.

... Might you be talking to us?

What took you so long? I've been anxiously waiting for you 'round the clock!

For us? Why the hell would you...?

In any case, aren't those... human bodies that just fell from above...? And what're those people even scavenging...?

Human, she says! Oh, you're positively whimsical, aren't you? Those were customers.

As for the scavengers, they heard a thud, so they've gathered up to try to get anything they can. Life's pretty rough in here, you know.

.......

She's gone.

Should we... keep movin' for now? Straight ahead?

Executive Manager. I recommend returning to the restroom to regroup and reorganize.

I... assent to Young Rodya's counsel. Let us set forth with all haste, forsooth...

<No one's injured, right? I think we'll have time to reorganize later.>

<Let's keep going, like Rodya suggested.>

Ryōshū came up to me as we were preparing to proceed.

That woman knows, too.

<...!>

<So you remember too, huh? Everything that happened here - they weren't just a dream or an illusion. We were - >

- rewound? Yes. But whatever happened didn't distort or twist the flow of time. It felt closer to... discarding time.

Tsk. Feels like shit.

<Well, glad to hear that I'm not the only Sinner who remembers all that, at least.>

*puff* Then here's something that'll disappoint you, C.H.: I don't remember anything.

<You don't...?>

I've only noticed the cross-sections of the memories that were severed away. *puff* It's different from having the memories like you.

I can tell you this, though - your confusion isn't all in your head. Something happened, and we all experienced it. That's for certain.

<... Right.>

<Thanks, that's enough assurance for me.>

Heh...

…Hm?

Hang on. Where'd everyone go?

Maybe they fell behind? I mean, the path here got pretty twisty, so...

... That might be the case. Let me go check.

<Don't trouble yourself, Ishmael.>

<Everyone's back in the restroom - I checked. They wouldn't have doubled back just to loaf around in a situation like this, so I assume there's some rule or phenomenon peculiar to this place that dragged them all back in there.>

Aha... Well, if that's the case, I'm sure we can catch up with them once we're back in the restroom.

<Yeah. Our first priority is reuniting with Meursault.>

<For now... let's head to where the Mannequins are.>

Okay, then... we'll help them to the exit.

Good choice. You only need to help three Mannequins to the exit.

Can't wait around all day. Hurry up and make up your mind.

Well? Have you given it some thought?

Giving the clerk what they need is probably best if you require my service, Manager.

Since you're already on the job... hurry up, will you? This season could end any minute...

Thank goodness. I got sent here after being sentenced to the Sisyphe Penalty, but nobody would explain anything to me! All anyone says are riddles and nonsense when it comes to this place - and I mean people outside as well. The ones here? They even get angry and complain about me not having common sense!

And guess what, one person even asked if they could use me as material. Must be some kind of jargon they use in here.

So... when didya get here?

That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out. There are no clocks here, and they have this weird way of counting days. Oh! Speaking of clocks - you've got one for a head! Could you tell me what time it is now? I know for sure it's been ages since my last meal, but somehow I don't feel hungry...

Seeing Dubois, I recalled that we never actually got to encounter him again. That is, until now - after the last Liquidation of the entire department store.

He really might've reached a "different" second floor as Faust had explained, but... from what we heard on the third floor about what happens to those who jump on the escalator out of season... It was entirely possible that he'd simply gotten himself killed immediately after joining us.

Whoa, are those uniforms? You must've belonged to a pretty serious Syndicate. Just what did you do that they decided to throw everyone in here as a package?

Hm, how should I put this... They charged us with "caring a lil' too much about a certain colleague of ours", if that makes sense?

<... Alright, that's enough chit-chat. Let's keep moving forward.>

Uhh... Really? Shouldn't we try to learn as much as we can about this place?

<Yeah, but this guy's as new to this place as we are. Doubt he's got anything revelatory to share with us.>

Dante, I've said this earlier, but you've been acting real weird today. Real Fau-like.

Can I feel your head? Is it getting fired up again?

<No, it's... nothing like that.>

The more I think about it, the fewer reasons there are to keep the Liquidation a secret. But...

Hmmm... I'll let it slide a second time. But that's only because it looks like you've got a plan or something cooking up there. Promise to tell us everything later though, 'kay?

<Yeah, I promise.>

Anyways... What's your name, new guy?

The name's Dubois, by the way. People also call me "Scar D."

I'm real sorry, Dubbs, but... we're in a bit of a hurry right now. Got places to be, ya know? If it isn't something super duper important, can we do this... maybe later? Next time we meet?

Ah, uh... I-I see. I don't mind, yeah...

Your attention, please. The Stripe Season has officially ended. We are pleased to inform you that Houndstooth is the new trend.

What?! No! I flayed so much skin off my thighs to make those stripe patterns... and it was all for nothing?! I only just got the horizontal lines all the way up to my chin. They can't change the trend now!

I have to fill the new-arrivals displays! Need a plan, need a plan... Maybe tear what's there into a checkered pattern? I can't let those go to clearance!

<Meursault's right over there.>

Huh? How'd you know that, Dante?

<I recognized that part of the room after viewing it through Meursault's sight. Hurry up, time to reunite with Meursault.>

Best not to share with the Sinners that this is my second time here until I know what's going on. Something tells me I shouldn't reveal everything just yet...

Come on, let's get going.

... Huh, you're fully in your manager mode today... weirdly. Uh, not to say that you usually aren't, but... How should I put this? Yeah, you seem more... confident and decisive than usual.

<Y-you think so?>

Something definitely smells fishy here, Dante... But I'll let it slide just this once.

Heed ye, for again I proclaim this day. Blessed be the hall of our rest with eternal preservation.

Yet even today, ye do naught as the hideous and the wicked ceaselessly tear out the Golden from its walls and take its aureate light for themselves. How long will ye forgive your own craven spirits and feebly accept the end of days?

I shall heed your command, Lord. Apostates who dare plunder the Golden Resin shall -

...!

I see among our clientele... those who gladly bask in the tarnished glow of sacrilege.

Why is he looking at us...? Hey, we were just shopping and minding our own business!

The employee is speaking to the Manager.

That the forces of Le Rouge would seek to foment disorder and profane the sacred domain... Answer, what is this brazen attempt to null the ancient truce?

You listen here, Buddy. I don't even know what this funny "Rouge" business is, 'kay? We're nobodies, we're not in any forces of whatever, and we don't want any trouble!

Ah, then you claim to be Kakis? You, who strut through our store flaunting those irreverent trinkets on your face? Do you expect us to believe you?

If I were to hazard a guess... I'd say the "blasphemous trinkets" are referring to Dante's clock hands...?

Thou shalt not suffer those who would scrape out the Golden. Thou shalt cleanse our domain of apostasy.

I shall grant them no mercy... I shall reclaim that radiant resin with my own hands and shore up the fading light of this sanctuary... Yes - your voice reaches me. As the hand of the will that is Le Noir, I shall make my stand here and...!

Thou shalt banish the apostates... Thou shalt preserve the Golden hue... Thou art hallow'd with the divine duty to shade the profane light, O keeper of eternal rest...

W-wait... Lower your weapons, please...

Your aureate traces are... while similar, quite unlike the Golden Resin we must preserve.

Yeah, well, why didn't you listen when we said as much? Could've avoided this whole mess...

Ishmael took a threatening stride toward the employee, who quickly shrank back.

Oh! I understand... Your voice resounds within me once more! These are true strangers, innocent of our ways - customers drawn here by the worth of our brand, and nothing more. I shall receive them anew.

Forgive my affront, dear customers. The golden light that hangs over you much resembles the blessed Golden Resin we must preserve.

We haven't met too many people who could pick up the Golden Bough's presence like you did... How'd ya do it?

Every one of us feels that golden pulse... and thirsts for it.

Our guiding light... The golden gleam that weaves us into our desired forms...

We desire it too, that brilliance. But unlike the Rouges who surrendered to their base urges, we Noirs are the eternally sworn guards of the blessed grain.

As you have doubtless noticed... The walls are riddled with the hideous bite marks left by those blasphemous red ones.

Grain of the Golden Resin, indeed... But those Rouge savages are busy shoveling that very essence of the stalwart bastion into their gullets...!

Okay, so... just what is the "Golden Resin"?

<He's probably referring those patches of gold filling the fractures on the walls.>

So they're the "Golden Resin," huh...

The time was nine arboreal Seasons ago - when the Age of Ruin descended upon Grand Magasin Sisyphe in the form of cataclysmic cracks forming upon its walls.

Then, mere moments before doom took us, salvation arrived in a form that couldn't be anything else but divine - brilliant resin of gold, materializing in the cracks that would have been our ruin, patching them back to wholeness. Are we not to praise and worship this providence? Alas... The Rouges fail to comprehend the unequivocal logic in this veneration, and instead elect to flay the walls... Preposterous.

Though a precarious truce between the two factions is in place... None fail to see the truth that is plainly before them: this peace is but a momentary lull, nothing more.

Then... only then... shall my mind be opened to the true "Voice," beyond the broadcast.

...? What was all that fuss about voices earlier, then?

Uh...! Right, indeed... I do hear the "Voice..." What I meant to say is that my mind shall be opened further so that I may hear it more frequently...

Anyways... If ya know a way upstairs, care to let us in on the secret?

Ah, so you are customers who seek to reach the Customer Service Center, I see...

To rise is to gain prestige, and to be prestigious is to spend and consume until your expenditure befits the status they demand.

Though I am bound to my post, to remain in this establishment and attend to its customers...

... perhaps you may be able to ascend in my stead and relay the account of my eternal fidelity toward the Golden Resin...

Gotcha. So if we want to go upstairs, we're gonna need to spend some cash. One more question, if you wouldn't mind - how exactly do we make money around here?

... Money?

The lingo for money here seems to be "eyeballs"... Right?

Oh... You strangers truly possess a determination unlike any other.

Then I shall reveal the means by which eyeballs may be won. Take them from the Mannequins. They seek every opportunity to exhibit themselves without end; if you apply yourselves diligently, you will gather all the eyeballs you require.

And another thing - pray, be constantly vigilant beyond this point, for you will be entering the territory of the Rouges. The vulgar, heathen fiends cannot even drape a bolt of fabric properly, so they rend our Golden Resin and stitch it back together in whatever blasphemous shape that pleases them...

<…….>

... The Rouges... All right. Will keep that in mind.

If there isn't anything else, brave strangers, I am honored to inform you that this establishment is now open to your perusal.

Ah... Do I spy a true connoisseur of fashion? A style much like our own... sophisticated... elegant... and that command of color - exquisite.

Hah! See? Someone gets it.

The compliment was directed at the Manager.

<Huh... Guess I'm pretty "hip" here, as they say?>

Congrats, I guess...

You appear to possess a respectable eye for fashion, so perhaps I can offer an expert's advice on shopping...

The soul of our label is liberation - strangling liberation, to be exact. You passed through the Noirs' store, yes? All those steel pins hammered through the fabric are a hypocritical pantomime of restraint - the philosophy of Le Rouge differs at its very root.

If I may direct your attention... here, do you see the smooth, natural give of the material? You won't see that from any production technique other than toothed - yes, it is quite literal - loopwheeling technique. The hide spills downward, completing a silhouette at once effortless and sublime.

Ah! And I would be remiss not to share that this includes 0.3 ounces of Golden Hide blended into the material. Simply feel it in your hands - ah, it has such a wonderful luster that practically gleams along the surface, doesn't it? Doesn't it?

It-it does...

Ah, do pardon me... I got carried away, didn't I?

The truth is, I am the designer of this label.

Gosh, I could go on for hours about all the troubles I had to overcome to have this tiny corner of the department store to myself. It's no easy task launching a designer label at Sisyphe, you know.

Well... at least she seems to fall into the friendly camp.

Is there a particular silhouette you're after? If you like, I can select a line from my collection that will articulate your physique to perfection.

We're... trying to find our way upstairs, actually.

.......

The upper floors...

Ah, I knew it... You're more interested in the Luxury brands too, aren't you?

But I assure you, the quality standards and the classique air of my designs are not so far behind those of Luxury brands...

Yes, of course, the allure of Luxury brands is undeniable. There once was a time when even I devoted myself to collecting eyeballs like a thing possessed, all for the chance of witnessing the Luxury Hall...

No, we're just...

I know a Rouge who used to work here before they were allowed to join the Luxury Hall. I don't want to badmouth, but I do take umbrage with how they approved somebody who is so clearly my inferior in patterning and design. And to think this "Luxury designer" learned their craft under my tutelage as a greenhorn, can you believe it?

Until... listen, this is where it gets really ridiculous...

... they used their teeth to line each and every one of their items with exactly 76 tooth marks along the necklines and hems. Whatever it was that the customers saw, the general reception claimed it cast a "deconstructive silhouette," and practically emptied their shelves.

Eh, I wouldn't attribute that to their skill when it ultimately amounts to a fluke... My designs are far more sophisticated than theirs, not to mention incomparably elegant.

I deserve to be recognized as a Luxury house, too. A couture label of my own! But just what must I do to -

... Oh, I've a brilliant inspiration.

Would you mind grabbing me a needle from the Exhibiting Mannequins?

Find me a sizable one, and I'll try to make it worth your while.

<…….>

...!

Just as she did last time, the woman began stabbing a pattern into her skin.

If I give it a nice pattern... like so... I can easily create a sense of three-dimensionality. Just wait until you see the material swell up evenly across the board.

Ohh, I can't wait to feel each hole in the pattern fill up with soft, juicy pus! It'll result in such a supple touch... How's that? It'll fit right in among the masterpieces of the Luxury Hall on the upper floors, won't it? won't it?

S-sure it would, I think...

Is that all you've got to say? You have an eye for beauty - use it! Appreciate what you see!

... 21 punctures along the horizontal axis and 21 along the vertical, intersecting at uniform intervals. That would produce the greatest density.

Of course... A hybrid construction of the quilting process and embossed design formed into diamond shapes.

Anyway, we helped you out, as promised. I think it's about time you held up your end of the deal and told us how to get ourselves upstairs.

Oh, that? You simply need to build up your Prestige Tier. At your current level, of course, you should probably start your shopping journey down at the Casualwear Hall...

... But since you've been tremendously helpful in my fashion ventures, I'll make a special exception for you and allow purchase from my brand.

Mark my words: the next time we meet... perhaps you will see me in the Luxury Hall, showcasing my piece - or shall I say, myself - in an exalted window display. Ahh... What bliss...

Look at me, wasting my time chattering away when the deadline for the next collection is fast approaching... Excuse me while I finish embossing the shoulder seam...

In the meantime, feel free to browse my designer collection! No item is off limits for purchase...

Thought this was just a pile of waste... Looks like there's something more to it?

... There. Under that pile.

Meursault dug through the spot Pwie indicated.

We found a piece of Golden Hide among the corpses.

Something drenched in blood and tangled in sinews falls from the area we tore off the Golden Hide from.

<Meursault, can you check what just fell?>

... It appears to be a notebook, or a notepad of sorts.

Hey... maybe it's a diary? Why don't we take a little peek?

I don't know, it feels a bit... icky peering into someone's diary.

Blood is slowly starting to soak the notebook and its contents... What should we do?

Its golden light has completely faded. What remains is a pile of bodies slowly caving in on itself.

Most pages are soaked in blood and difficult to tell what it says.

I will read out loud what is legible.

"Godda - - otherfu - - tch - like it's some great undertaking to - ing on the - unway..."

"Cockly little - - eenhorn, know your place if you've just climbed up he - "

Meursault flipped past a few pages that have soaked up far too much blood to be legible.

"Abhorre - - tle shit. I knew it. I knew a - - like them couldn't have made it thi - - ar on their own.

" - thetic leech, working with Le - to - suck up all the - - of the - - artment store."

"I'm goi - to embarrass the - - hit out of them in - - of everyone."

…….

<... This department store's like this through all the floors no matter how high you climb, huh?>

There was something written in here, but it's gone now. The journal has soaked up too much blood.

So... you're not hurt anywhere, are you, Meur?

There have been no violent altercations since I entered Sisyphe. I have sustained no injuries.

Why did they seize you in the first place?

The customers of the department store can be classified into four principal groups.

The first group is called Le Rouge, and they prefer leather as a material and a striking red color. Then there is Le Noir, whose members prefer to use refined black color and fabrics in their work. The third group is less a grouping and more a denomination - Le Kaki. They are those who belong to no particular affiliation and instead chase the changing trends.

That employee believed that I was a Kaki, which explains why she took me into her custody to be used as material. There are those among Le Kaki who do not share the same purpose the vast majority of customers share - which is to purchase and don themselves in garments and attire. I belonged to that category.

Wait, what's the fourth?

They are those who never reveal themselves, nor are they called upon by anyone.

I still don't get the full picture... So you need to have a fashion purpose here? Like... buying clothes, trying 'em on and stuff?

The people here... seemed interested in nothing but clothes.

It is less a purpose than a raison d'être.

<Alright... I think that's enough of that for now.>

<Why don't you explain more about the Grand Magasin Sisyphe itself? Rodya and Ishmael would appreciate a quick rundown on that, I think.>

... I will now brief them regarding any pertinent information.

Point one: This is not a physically constructed...

After a veritable storm of articulate verbal sludge passed over the two, I decided to repeat and highlight some of the more relevant information from Meursault's lecture.

<Summary time. Grand Magasin Sisyphe is not a physical place. It is a virtual reality, and we're here only in our minds. Meursault's body has been put in a vat at the Sisyphe Tower, while our physical bodies are sleeping inside the Suicide Vending Machine we used.>

Sounds like our plan's looking pretty simple: rescue Meur - we did that - find him in one piece - he is - yoink the Golden Bough on the rooftop, and get ourselves outta here. Is that right?

... It is.

Ya sound like... you've been here before, Meur. Have you?

I have not been here before, no. However, I heard some stories from an acquaintance when I worked for N Corp, which explains my in-depth knowledge regarding the Grand Magasin Sisyphe.

Then... I suppose our only option is to climb toward the top. We found a way to sail through the Great Lake - we will find a way to navigate this place as well.

Thanks to - disregarding the notion of whether "thanks to" would be the most apt choice of words here - the "Liquidation," we're at a much better place than we were on our first attempt.

Our Prestige Tier was already decently high, and all the items we'd purchased with hard-earned eyeballs were still in our possession as well.

We might have an actual shot this time...

<Let's hurry on ahead. Who knows? Maybe we'll come across an escalator or something.>

<... Damn, it got us while we were distracted.>

It was pretty slow, though. And not even that strong.

Let's try. I don't think Meursault'll have a hard time fighting it unless he lets his guard down.

Mm.

<I already know its patterns...>

<... Sorry. My instructions were late. Are you okay, Meursault?>

There is no issue.

*sigh* Well, that's a lesson learned. When it trembles, take it as a warning that it's winding up to charge.

That thing can really zoom, huh? Like, all the way from the other end... How the heck are you supposed to dodge that...?

<When you hear the sound, just move left or right perpendicular to its origin.>

<Shouldn't be too hard to avoid them, then. Or we could also just kill it before it has a chance to move.>