Exploration, floor 4 b
A black sofa.
Furnishings of all kinds creak to life from all around us... and begin to creep in our direction.
It's a slide. Is the fun part going down... or climbing back up after?
Handbag... -looking things are sitting still in silent, bated breath.
Clearly, much more care has gone into making these than the other ones on display.
Don't be shy! Witness the perfection that is my awakened children.
How dare you filthy plebeians lay your hands on me!
I should never have considered you as allies.
Please don't do that. What did I ever do to you?
I just want to go home...
... Everyone makes mistakes. I'll consider this as one...
Are you trying to destroy me? Please, stop this.
Oh no! My L2 vertebra!
Arrgh! You're breaking all of my joints!
Dude. I'll be kewl~ this time, so don't do it again.
Be kewl, my dudes... No one's gonna buy me if you make a rip in my curtains.
Ach! You just hit my sensitive spot!
Ow! Don't hit me if you're not even gonna buy me!
*yawn* Oww... it hurts... But ugh... It's trying to stop you is such a bother...
Are you trying to put me to sleep again?
Owie! Owie!
It hurts! It hurts!
Ah, please stop...
I SAID STOP, YOU GODDAMN SHITBIRDS!
Unsightly, ugly fools... What do you think you're doing?!
I have to... make my 70th masterpiece... But... all that I've made are... failures...
So busy filling the cracks on the wall, they don't even turn around to look at us.
Wait, stop! I-is there something you want from me? Just tell me what you want...!
But... I've only just now faced the Voice...
Ah... At last, to be graced with the sweet release from the gaol that was the restroom...
…….
Fuhu, hello there~
…….
*sigh* ... What pity! Verily, the madness of boredom spareth not even young Hong Lu in its merciless rampage, for he hath begun to converse with the very world outside the restroom...
I too, in search of excitement, had attempted to engage in a contest of staring with the wordless lady... Yet of all 10 bouts, I failed to seize even a single victory... Tedium is indeed a formidable adversary, for it confuseth the mind to make fellows out of the very air... Hmm hmm...
Ah, I wasn't saying hello to the air, Don Quixote! We have a new friend with us, see?
Would you kindly introduce us, Dante?
A-ah, quite true. It appeareth that the little bairn is on our heels... Whoever might they be?
They are someone we picked up on the second floor. Our current objective is to bring them to the fifth floor.
"Picked up" a child, thou sayest...?
There was a mutual consent of unspoken nature.
<The Rouges requested that we bring them to the fifth floor...>
Ooh, a request, thou sayest? This be a contract, then! Well met, I am Don Quixote! 'Tis my dream to become the best Fixer there is! And whoever might thou be?!
Ahh...
W-whomst...?
Uuh... eeh...
Hmm...
Ahh...
…….
Ahh...
Eh, Manager Esquire? Wouldst thou do the honors of introduction...? I would much like to call this child by a name, though they might not speak their own...
<…!>
<H-huh, we never asked their name...>
Hoh?! Hast thou traveled so long with this child and thought not to ask their name!? Pray, just what have you been calling this child thus far?!
That's a bit insensitive, Dante. They're someone who'll be coming along with us on this journey - the least we could do is try to learn their name, even if it's only for a short while.
<The Brand Director... didn't tell us the kid's name...>
<U-uhm, what should I call this kid? Should we name them?>
Hmm... Why don't we ask them? Even children who are still learning how to speak sometimes know how to pronounce their own names.
... That is a reasonable conjecture.
We would like you to tell us your name.
Buu...
Pwuh...
Pwie...
Aha! What an adorable name you have~
I think their name is Pwie, Dante.
Oooh, what a whimsical name thou hast, young Pwie!
<Uhm... Are you sure that's their full name?>
Such narrow-mindedness! Expand the horizons of thy mind, Manager Esquire, for all names are noble and worthy of their breaths!
<Yeah, yeah... Thanks for the lecture.>
Ahem! I welcome thee with open arms into our adventuring party, young Pwie!
I must warn thee afore we are to proceed: the journey ahead shall be fraught with danger! Yet worry thee not - for no matter the hardship, I, Don Q -
... Wherefore is it that thou standest at such a distance, young Pwie?
Uu...
<I think they're afraid...>
Afraid? Wherefore?
<... I think they're just wary of us in general.>
But... from what I've been able to see from our brief journey from the second to the fourth floor, I think the people Pwie was most afraid of... are Meursault and me.
Ooooh... 'Tis as though we have walked through a portal into another world.
…….
Hast thou any thoughts to share, young Pwie? Hie thee here, here! Ooooh... Hoooh...! What other wondrous curiosities await in this department store, I wonder?
Lean any closer, and you might end up eating the shoe, Don Quixote.
Ahem, 'tis but a close inspection, nothing more...
Ah... It's all... fading away...
When I wake... I'll see the... blue skies... again...
Were you telling him the truth?
... I dunno. But... I want it to be true.
…….
Surprisingly enough, that little thing is telling the truth.
Ever since it was born, the great cycle that had once disappeared from the Grand Magasin... has returned.
I suppose B1 will be filled with shells again. Shells housing soft, supple beings.
Ooh... this be the voice of young Meursault's lover, Lady Jeanne?
Fuhu, that's me. Ex-lover, to clarify. Hey, ma puce... I don't always have to be your ex-something, if you ever change your mind.
After all, we haven't had real closure yet, hm?
…….
Voice...
Oh yes, I am a Voice. Perfect and complete, unlike you.
The Rouges seem to have high hopes for you, but... I don't know.
I'm afraid you're way too tiny to hold up this crumbling department store. Even the Golden Bough's barely keeping it standing.
Raise it well, ma puce.
Though I doubt that little thing could change how this ends.
... So, according to Miss Jeanne... the Golden Bough is the last thing holding the Grand Magasin together.
Then... what would happen to this place if we removed it?
Hm... Verily, the "resin" sealing the fissures would disappear... whereupon the collapse of the department store would surely follow...
Hoh... Would not the liberation of incarcerated N Corp. residents be within reach, then?! 'Twould be a most fortuitous outcome!
What a disgrace you are, Four-legs. You were entrusted with but one duty - one - the shop's cleanliness. Yet I see that you've failed spectacularly at that simple task.
I have indeed failed you, honorable One-leg. I couldn't carry out that simple duty on account of my stupidity and idleness.
There is a reason you are made to drag those unsightly legs with you, Four-legs. Remind yourself of that with every step you take.
... I understand, One-leg. My deepest apologies.
Forgive that shameful display, dear customer. Lowly though I am, I will now attend to you instead. ... Should you tolerate my vulgar presence, of course.
Is... is all well? That one-legged woman seemed to be bullying thee quite harshly.
In the sartorial arts, a shoe is an article of clothing wrought to meet the ground and spare the body from the impurities of dirt. The fewer the feet that touch the ground, the nobler the being - and the more exalted the purpose of the lone shoe.
As our names suggest, lowly Four-legs like myself walk the earth with too many appendages...
The universal aspiration of the Footwear Hall employees is to ascend into a higher state of being - "One-leg," whose sheer existence is balanced proudly upon a single leg.
…….
W-well... If thou sayest so... Then what must one do to become a... "One-leg"?
Craft shoes with tireless devotion. Sell them in faithfulness. Discipline the body so that fewer and fewer feet may tread upon the ground. Perseverance and persistence shall be our salvation -
You must all be quite new to this floor, if you're still asking questions like that.
Yes, we are. We came up from the floors below.
From the - You're from downstairs...? Then might you be the customers everyone is whispering about...? The customers who are unbound to the floors...?
Mm. We can travel between floors without restriction.
I... see. The rumors were true. Only rumors are allowed to travel between each floor of this department store, so we never know whether they're true or false.
Then... could you confirm the veracity of another rumor for me?
Hm, what rumor would that be?
It used to be that the customers of the Grand Magasin who collapsed could rise again on the lower floors. However many times they collapsed, they could begin anew from the very start.
Yet ever since the day the cracks formed on the walls... I hear that collapsed customers no longer rise - not just here, but on the lower floors, too.
Is there any... grain of truth to that?
It is true. Revival is no longer possible here.
... Not true.
<Pwie...?>
You can get up again. No one wantsta... just lie on a cold floor in the end.
You can wake up again... after you collapse.
It almost came off as a stubborn child's insistence, but...
... there was a nameless confidence in Pwie's voice, as though they were certain that it would come true.
Ah... Then... will I awaken again on B1, as we always have...?
... Mhm.
I've always had so much admiration for the One-legs... and their magnificent stance as they pushed themselves against the earth with but the strength of a single leg, the whole of their existence concentrated upon a singular point. But it was always out of my reach, no matter how hard I labored.
Then... I want to start from the beginning again.
Your voice feels... terrifying and uncanny, unlike the Voice that speaks to me. But... you must be someone strong and prestigious...
... So collapse me, won't you? So I can start anew, from the beginning...
... A foolish, ignorant death... Perfectly befitting a Four-legs.
It never understood the natural order that governs the Footwear Hall. The cycle in which the sole purpose of the Four-legs' base existence is to elevate us One-legs to be revered.
... But why?
Why do they revere you just 'cuz you have fewer legs?
Because only a One-leg such as myself can achieve the magnificent stance where I push myself against the earth with but the strength of a single leg.
Pwie lifted a leg off the ground and stared at One-leg.
I have two legs. But I'm standing on one leg.
That's... that's not magnificent. Imperfect.
Standing on one leg's... uncomfy.
.......
She doesn't know what to say - you must've hit a nerve, Pwie.
The number of our legs is a symbol of divine providence in the Footwear Hall, and a natural law by which we have abided since time immemorial.
Don't you dare meddle with our tradition, you foul, revolting Rouge-spawn. Same goes for you as well, strangers.
That wasn't a very nice thing to say.
You might want to apologize to Pwie.
Hong Lu's mouth straightened into a thin line, the cheerful smile that so often graced his lips gone without a trace. The One-leg's tirade seemed to have genuinely offended him.
I'm... foul and... revolting...?
... Yes, you are. I barely stopped myself from retching the moment I saw you, you disgusting little vermin.
I dunno.
The lady downstairs, she... was happy to see me. Praised me.
And you... think I'm disgusting. Hating me from the moment we met.
But... I'm still me. Same me as I was downstairs. Why am I different to you?
.......
You really are an infuriating little thing, aren't you? Question after question about things that are so obvious...
But fine, I'll grace you with the truth. The only reason anyone would ever be glad to see you is that they're the Rouges - a rotten and avaricious sort.
You know what? Why am I even subjecting myself to this useless drivel? I'll shut that impudent mouth for good.
We gave you a chance to say nice things, but... I don't think you're going to take it at this point.
Young Pwie, though our foe was in the wrong, for she hath spewed such venomous and unjust tirade against thee...
I must advise thee against answering questions with questions, no matter how curious thou mayest be - for doing so in excess may sow the seeds of trouble.
Though curiosity is indeed a commendable quality, alas, there are times when one must exercise restraint.
But why...?
Don Quixote briefly fell into a thousand-yard stare.
Though I may be speaking from naught else but mine experience, to ask question after question may invite young Heathcliff's bat to smack - mmmpph!!
... While that might be a reason...!
... it's usually because some questions are, by their nature, troublesome to answer. You could hurt others' feelings by asking questions like that, and... even make things a little awkward.
... That's... weird.
Are "things" not allowed to be "awkward"?
When people say that things are awkward, they mean that they're uncomfortable. Though we naturally want things to be relaxed and comfortable, some people want to achieve that peace without talking things through.
Those people tend to try to get there by forcing misunderstandings or by fighting the source of awkwardness to physically remove them.
Oh... I don't like that.
Fuhu, right?
But... I don't know what questions are troublesome. And I still wanna ask 'cuz I'm curious.
What should I do?
Hmmm~ Questions usually become troublesome when we don't want to raise a fuss, so... Ah, how about you raise your hand before asking something?
... Too much work.
I must admit, 'tis not a method that is always reciprocated... But with quiet persistence, a kind soul shall eventually espy thy persevering hand! A most wonderful method, wouldst thou not say?
.......
Hm? Did you see any shoes that you find to your liking?
Shoe...
Hoh...!
Fie... Only now did I notice! Young Pwie, how is it that thou wearest not a shoe?!
To walk this earth bare of feet cannot be a pleasant experience, young Pwie... Is it not rough on thy skin...? And cold...?
<Should we get them one...?>
We can purchase you a pair of shoes, if there is something you like.
... I don't like any of these. And I'm hungry.
But... Shoes are nice. I want one...
<Hmm, maybe we should try taking them to a non-Noir shop...>
<Let's head down. I think the Rouges had a shop down there as well.
Pwie considered Hong Lu's suggestion for a bit, cocking their head to the side... then raised a hand.
It wasn't long before they raised both of their hands...
... and having thought of a third - and possibly, a fourth, and a fifth too - question, began impatiently flapping their hands in the air.
Mm, not very handy. Need more hands, maybe.
You only need to lift one hand, once. Any follow-up questions can be posed by subsequently raising your arm after the first query has been answered.
Aha...
Good idea. I think.
Another thing: If you have a question for me, it is unnecessary to raise your hand. When your question happens to be a troublesome sort, I will inform you directly.
Pwie nodded... then, their attention arrested by yet another curiosity, tottered toward the display cabinet Don Quixote was observing.
... H-AAAAARK!! Be thou the master of this hall?!
.......
.......
H-hark...?
.......
I wonder if they're unable to speak?
.......
Th-this be a lamp, or this be a man? Forsooth, a pickle indeed...
Hmm... that sure is a conundrum. Wouldn't that depend on how we look at it?
You need only consider every entity here a customer, a product, a vendor, and a Mannequin all at once.
<Alright... Let's start by giving this guy some clothes.>
Hark, kind Sir!
.......
Aha. Customers.
Will you... Will you purchase me?
Though my bent back may give you an impression of bad posture at first, it is in fact my strength - the subtle combination of height and angle ensures that any customer in search of respite will be most appropriately illuminated.
Ah, well. In truth, w-what we seek is -
I may creak a little - the last customer who inspected me was regrettably coarse with their hands. But worry you not. My functions are not one bit affected.
Come, feel the softness of my body. Why don't you try lighting me up now, young fellows?
N-nay, worry thee not. In truth, 'tis simply that thou were the first to catch mine eye -
Caught your eye, did I?
Well, well, well... Isn't that encouraging to hear? It can only mean that I am clearly different in terms of composition compared to the rest of the common rabble on display here!
Perchance, that may be so. 'Tis quite blindingly bright where thou standest, indeed.
Someone with such a keen eye for aesthetic detail will surely be willing to purchase me, hmm?
I am yours for a very reasonable price of 4,000 eyeballs. Outrageously underpriced for the unmatched coziness my lighting provides, if I do say so myself.
We are not here to purchase you. We are only here to distribute the articles of clothing taken from the Happy Closet to the residents of the Furniture Hall.
Ah. You speak of the master of the Furniture Hall.
I don't even know if they carry anything that would go well with my style... Well, let's see what you've brought me.
Pwie spread out the clothes they were carrying in front of the floor lamp.
Erm...
Behold! Outfits chosen by the most discerning hands of young Pwie here!
I must say... this piece is not entirely consonant with my own aesthetic sense...
Ack!
... However, as you are all doubtlessly true aesthetes who have managed to recognize my overwhelming magnificence within the Furniture Hall... I trust that there was some apocryphal philosophy behind this choice of fashion. I will... wear it, I guess...
You gave that rusty old lamp an outfit?! No fair, he's been outta fashion since forever, dudes! Do me too, do me too! Decorate me!
Dress me up, and I'll let you buy me at an affordable price!
He has it so good. Hardly any sunlight reaches us back here... Let us have something, too...
If you won't, then we'll... If you won't, then we'll...
Be-becalm thyselves! All shall be distributed in good time!
<Let's head back to the Happy Closet, and... pick out some clothes.>
They're all...
... trying to wear something. Why...?
Wherefore, thou askest? Why, 'tis to make one's heartbeat dash by donning an outfit most dashing!
They are hoping to be pinned.
Wearing an outfit is at once an immediately identifiable method of self-expression and infixation.
... Mm, quite an interesting verbiage thou hast chosen to explain how individualistic expression leads to electrifying excitement, young Meursault...
Don't you want to have clothes like they do, Pwie?
No, what I want...
What I want is...
Pwie trailed off, absorbed in thought.
As we approach, the one they call "Happy Closet" unfurl their body once again.
And just as we had seen before, there's an assortment of miscellany and parts of human anatomy dangling inside.
Hoh... Could this be... thy manner of parley? Ah, I see! Thou'rt flaunting thy colección, perchance?
Or... maybe they're asking us to take them with us.
I have conducted a thorough search, but there does not seem to be a "red heart shard" among their collection.
The shoe vendor did say that they are a giving soul... Maybe they gave it away already?
<Maybe so, but...>
<... I think we're going to have to tear their heart out like the Furnishings did last time.>
... There are many eyes on us, Manager.
Immediately attempting to remove the Happy Closet's heart will most likely provoke the Furnishings into attacking us.
<I really don't want to do this again, but... let's first distribute the Happy Closet's items to the Furnishings.>
<They shouldn't have any problem with it then, right? The Furnishings get what they want, and we get to rip out the Happy Closet's heart... it's fair game for everyone.>
As we were discussing what to do with the Furnishings, Pwie tore off a few pieces of the Happy Closet's trinkets.
It seemed to me it was more out of curiosity than covetousness - Pwie watched the Happy Closet carefully, trying to see if they reacted in any way.
If you share... you'll be empty.
Are you... okay with becoming empty...?
.......
Pwie takes a few more items from their body, but they still don't stir. Only when we've walked a fair distance away from them do they fold themselves shut.
What might this place be...?
Looks like they sell furniture here.
<Still so dark... and eerily quiet.>
Moving to the last known location of the Happy Closet.
As we approach, the one they call "Happy Closet" unfurl their body once again.
And just as we had seen before, there's an assortment of miscellany and parts of human anatomy dangling inside.
Hoh... Could this be... thy manner of parley? Ah, I see! Thou'rt flaunting thy colección, perchance?
Or... maybe they're asking us to take them with us.
I have conducted a thorough search, but there does not seem to be a "red heart shard" among their collection.
The shoe vendor did say that they are a giving soul... Maybe they gave it away already?
<Maybe so, but...>
<... I think we're going to have to tear their heart out like the Furnishings did last time.>
... There are many eyes on us, Manager.
Immediately attempting to remove the Happy Closet's heart will most likely provoke the Furnishings into attacking us.
<I really don't want to do this again, but... let's first distribute the Happy Closet's items to the Furnishings.>
<They shouldn't have any problem with it then, right? The Furnishings get what they want, and we get to rip out the Happy Closet's heart... it's fair game for everyone.>
As we were discussing what to do with the Furnishings, Pwie tore off a few pieces of the Happy Closet's trinkets.
It seemed to me it was more out of curiosity than covetousness - Pwie watched the Happy Closet carefully, trying to see if they reacted in any way.
If you share... you'll be empty.
Are you... okay with becoming empty...?
.......
Pwie takes a few more items from their body, but they still don't stir. Only when we've walked a fair distance away from them do they fold themselves shut.
.......
The Happy Closet, as the others called them, opens up to us once again.
So... I wonder what the other Furnishings are looking for?
Hm... It shall be of our choosing. Good Closet, wouldst thou allow us to take several at once from thee?
The Happy Closet still does not stir.
<... I'm not entirely sure if it's a good idea to keep distributing clothes, considering what happened last time...>
If you would rather proceed using a more violent method -
<Nah. Let's not get into unnecessary fights when we have Pwie with us.>
Why are you always giving things away...?
Do you not have... wants?
.......
Wanna have this...?
.......
... Closed. You don't like receiving things?
.......
Why won't you talk? Frustrating.
Prithee, consider that their name is "Happy Closet!" Perchance acts of charity be what give them happiness!
Or maybe that "happiness" of the Happy Closet isn't theirs at all. Maybe it belongs to the other Furnishings.
A given name is, after all... a culmination of wishes from those who gave it.
What took you so long?! My bones're freezing from the lack of deco!
A-apologies, good fellow, What is it that thou needst?
I want a toenail! Toenail on my hat! I'll look so classy with a toenail on my hat!
Toenail... This be the toenail thou seekest, perchance?
Heavens... Have you misplaced your eyes on the soles of your feet?! Try putting them where you can see!
This looks like a toenail to you? It's obviously a tongue!
Ah...! Had I not shared much the same doubt with thee, Manager Esquire? Loath I be to say it, but thou truly hast no eye for the aesthetics of fashion!
But... this is a pretty nice tongue, I'll give you that. It'll go quite well with my light.
Oh boy, hope I'll sell for a high price...
Do you... really need that?
Of course I do. I need this to sell at a premium.
After you sell at a premium... what then?
Wha - selling at a premium is a good thing in and of itself! That's what everyone says!
.......
*yawn* So sleepy...
Why do I gotta stay awake...?
Hello, what outfit would you like?
I mean, it's obvious, isn't it...? Something beautiful so someone'll buy me soon... Ah, I know... I want a warm and fuzzy coat, so I can snooze right back to sleep as soon as I'm sold...
Sure thing, here you go -
... What do you want me to do with this? Drape it over me.
You think I should be bothered to haul myself up to get dressed? Do you have any idea how sleepy I am?
<... Same old, huh?>
Oh, haha... Here you go. How's that?
So nice... So nice. You can go.
I'm gonna need some time to get used to this fuzzy coziness... I'll... uhm... give you a discount of 200 eyeballs when I'm fully acclimated. A token of my gratitude.
You better purchase me, okay?
You don't seem any different...
Shush your little mouth, kid. It's not like you were going to purchase me, anyway...
I like that you're bringing me the good stuff willingly, my dudes.
You guys must be the totally kewl~ kinda customers.
Thank you for your kind words. Here - which one would you like?
Guess what? I'm a totally kewl~ Furnishing, too. Yoink! Didn't even need to think.
<Didn't even hesitate, huh...>
With that done, why don'tcha dudes be totally kewl~ too and buy me?
I'll give ya a discount of 300 eyeballs if you're kewl~ about it, how's that, my dudes?
I ask thee, in a manner most kewl~ - what be thy price, with that most generous discount?
It makes me a totes reasonable 3,600 eyeballs. Far out, huh? Oops, or am I lowballing myself?
Silence descended around us as we all struggled to come to terms with that ridiculous asking price.
Dang, not so kewl~ after all, huh?
That's gonna be a no-go for me, my dudes. I want my buyer to be totally kewl~.
What does it mean to be "kewl"...?
To be kewl~ is to be kewl~, no more, no less.
It means to become cooler. More dashing, more admirable.
Really? Then you Furnishings aren't so kewl~.
Wearing something you've robbed from others...
Y'know, when you put it like that... Point taken. But I'm gonna be kewl~ and just smoove over it.
Really? This is all that's left inside the Closet?
Hmm... Kinda disappointing, guys.
Why didn't you come to me first before anyone else?
We weren't avoiding you, if that's what you're saying. We just happened to visit everyone here in the order they caught our eye...
*scoff* Are you implying that I'm not as eye-catching as the others?
Hmph! I know I'm on the somewhat petite side in this Hall, but there's no need to be so rude.
Forget it, I'm taking this.
And don't think you'll be getting a good-bye OR a thank-you discount from me!
That's too bad, then. We won't be able to afford you without a discount.
...Hmph.
S-see if I care! I bet someone way, way richer than you'll splurge for me soon!
But you're still pretty unremarkable.
Why don't you just give it back to the owner? Not like it'll change anything.
... No way! You can't just take back a gift!
Thank you... Thank you ever so much for bringing me such a precious item.
I hope this isn't an imposition, but... Oh, every garment you brought me is simply beautiful... I'll go with this one.
Mm.
And this one...
Aaaaand this one.
One item per customer.
... Ah, really?
Oh... I'm sorry, I must've gotten ahead of myself. The sunshine's been so warm lately, I feel like I'm floating.
But don't you think it's rather heartless of you to throw me one miserable scrap of sacking and expect me to go over the rainbow?
It's our policy.
Tsk. That's a stupid fucking policy, isn't it?
The fuck're you lookin' at! Get lost, fuckwit!
... Why is the couch so mad?
It's not like it's doing us a favor. We're the ones giving, aren't we?
Because that couch thinks that they are entitled to our generosity.
Those who feel entitled... tend to forget that they ought to be grateful instead.
Me this one! This one!
Hmm.
Wow! Wow!
Thankies! Thankies!
<Glad this is still easy, at least.>
Wanna buy me? Buy me!
9,900 eyeballs! A steal! A steal!
Thine offer is the most exorbitant price we have heretofore encountered!
Yep, yep! Yep, yep!
Cuz I'm awesome! I'm awesome!
Alas, we have not with us such a grand sum of -
What a bum! What a bum!
How cruel of thee...!
Don't take it too personally, Don Quixote. We are a bit strapped for eyeballs at the moment.
... Are we bums?
Fiiiieee... It burneth mine heart to be subjected to such derision... Young Pwie, I promise thee - though we may be ocularly disenfranchised, thou shan't grow up in an impoverished childhood...!
<Really tugs at your heartstrings, huh...>
Hey, man. That coat looks pretty heavy. Why don't you try hanging it from me?
(No response. Couldn't be bothered, it seems.)
Do ya mind, my dudes? It's finally my turn to sunbathe, and you're blocking the light.
How do you like this bright red cushion I've got? Put me in any room, and I'll fill it with just the appropriate kind of vitality any classy home needs!
My body is quite cushy. Feel free to take a seat before you go. Hmm... You must be quite tempted to sit on me right about now.
Do you even know what the word Vanitas means? Go away, uneducated fools have no business purchasing me.
(No response. Couldn't be bothered, it seems.)
One day I'll get a kewl~ customer who's down for a kewl~ deal.
I'll be worth at least 5,000 Eyeballs now! But for you, I'm available for... an exclusive price of 9,000 Eyeballs. Hmph!
Oh, excuse me...
Are you really having trouble understanding what "Get lost, fuckwit" means?
<Some of them don't seem to want to talk to us... if they're even capable of speech.>
As much as I'd like to give them the clothes, there isn't much we can do if their first reaction when we try to talk to them is to attack us... I wonder what other options we have?
Hmmmmmmmmm... Quite the pickle indeed... Aha! Perchance, we need only initiate conversation with them as many times as it takes for them to return the favor?!
<But Meursault's going to have to go through a gruesome death every time we talk to the wrong Furnishing...>
I'faith...
Hmm... Ah, right. I think Furnishings in the brighter parts of the hall were more willing to lend us their ear, even if they were a little curt.
I wonder if the light put them in a good mood~?
<The brighter parts?>
Aha! Indeed, I too heard the quibble of voices when walking under the sunshine, which were entirely absent while we were in shadows...
Every Furnishing with which communication was possible was exposed to light.
<Right... Then the light must be affecting the Furnishings somehow. Let's head down to the Furniture Hall and try again.>
... We need a heart shard. I request that you hand yours over to us.
.......
W-what is the meaning of this? A-and... ye were all mobile, all along?!
<But we were more generous about it than we were last time... Was that not enough?!>
*yawn* Tried to get some shut-eye... but the sunshine kept me up.
I'm going to need more than one article of clothing if I want someone to buy me before the sunshine grows even warmer.
Bet that closet's hiding even kewl~er goodies inside.
I bet they've got some luxury stuff hidden inside that you uncultured swines couldn't even recognize.
I hope this isn't an imposition, but would you mind giving me everything you have?
Want all of it! All of it!
W-wait, what - ?!
Move, move! Me first pick! Me first pick!!
Excuse me.
Oh? Hello, Mister Lamp. When did you...?
You can get out of my way if you have no further business with the closet.
Uh...?
What brazen sabotage... Looking to snatch away my potential customers, eh? I won't take it sitting down!
<... What a pack of vultures.>
H-halt! Canst thou not see, that the Closet has naught left to give?! Cease this robbery this instant! Cease!
The Furnishings backed off a little at Don Quixote's urgent intervention,
but they continued to circle the fallen Happy Closet, greedily eyeing for an opportunity to snatch up more adornments that may or may not be there.
All of the Closet's possessions hath already been distributed fairly amongst thee.
Thus -
.......
... Not fairly.
Wasn't fair. Curtain didn't get as many pieces.
Wh-whatever seemeth to be the problem, young Pwie?
No, no... Kid's got a point. I never got as many as the rest of you did. This isn't very far out, my dudes. Everyone's supposed to get the same amount.
*yawn* Guess it's not so fair when someone has more than others.
.......
The Happy Closet opens up without a word.
<Not that I expected them to be any different, but they don't hesitate to open up, even for a request like this...>
Hm... Though the necessity of it leaves us no other option... it must be said that this leaves a discomforting rot in one corner of my chest.
To lose one's heart is to lose one's life... And life is of greater import than even the preciously limited colección such as this...
If you were in the same situation, would you willingly give up your collection of badges to help the people in need?
Mmm... If it be in service of helping the troubled, then I shall fain part with my entire colección - !
- eeeeeeeehhhhhhhhh, though, mayhap thou wilt be merciful and spare the limited edition Red Mist commemorative badge? 'Twould leave me with naught but sorrow were I to be deprived of even that...
What's a badge?
They are remembrances bearing commemorative emblems of great Fixers; I wear them so that they may forever live on in mine heart.
Fixers...? Is that the Voice you follow?
Hmm... Fond of questions with no easy answers, art thou not? The one we "follow" at present is Manager Esquire, yet...
You don't follow me, but you still wanna bring me to higher floors.
What do you want?
We pursue the enactment of justice! If there be downtrodden and troubled souls, we seek to assist them with nary a concern for how their woes came to be!
Strangers... You say a lotta complicated stuff.
With all that said, you still don't follow me.
Oh, stop it with your pearl-clutching.
... As we reel from the sudden turn of events, the Furnishings shove us aside and descend upon the motionless Happy Closet like a flock of carrion birds.
.......
Their body remains unfurled even as they are knocked down to the ground.
*yawn*... Shame, Rocking Chair sold for 2,100 eyeballs. Would've been me had they not been wearing that newfangled scarf. Now they'll get to sleep forever - must be so, so very nice...
Keep dreaming, you greedy thing. You took the most clothes out of Happy Closet, you know?
Hope there's a cow-print shin somewhere in there... That'd be pretty kewl~ ya know?
You bitch, that lower lip you just took is pretty much a set with the philtrum I chose!
Leave the eyebrows! Leave the eyebrows!
…….
(There's no movement. Only remnants of the pillaging remain.)
(Between the remnants of broken furniture, a red, congealed lump can be seen.)
Hmm...? What's this...?
<The... heart.>
... This one didn't want to take anything.
So why did this happen to them?
... Their greed was their undoing.
Did you... point out the discrepancy to get them to fight each other?
Yeah. I thought...
... if I pointed it out, they'd start going at each other's throats.
Thought they'd do anything to get one more piece of the clothing 'cuz they're all so selfish.
.......
<Let's take the red heart... and return to Dorothea.>
The Happy Closet remained unfurled as Meursault carved the heart out of their chest.
.......
... They've...
... truly given away everything, haven't they?
Don Quixote's sullen gaze lingered on what was left of the Happy Closet. She unpinned a Fixer badge hidden in her jacket and placed it gently on the floor, next to the Closet's remains.
.......
Seeing that, Pwie also took a moment to briefly contemplate what remained of the Closet...
... and after having come to a decision, carefully placed the red handkerchief from the third floor on top of the remains.
... Let's go.
Was the Happy Closet really happy?
... Oh hello, dear customers...
You're not looking so good.
Barely... escaped with my life.
But thanks to that... everything they had... is now mine.
I see that you've... taken the heart, the most precious part... So you were all just... pretending to be uncultured, huh...?
Still... since you were of some help to me... I'll make an exception and.. sell them to you without the markup...
Don't expect any discounts, of course... How dare you take the heart for yourself...?
Have you mind to purchase me? I'm available for a very affordable price.
I'll be waiting.
Why don't you get a move on and find the Happy Closet?
The way ahead is completely blocked. It does not seem possible to pass through for now.
Will Four-legs be reborn in the form it admired? Will Four-legs... once reborn... still revere One-leg?
No matter whom we were to ask, no one will answer this question.
Of the two lamps, the lit one whispers something. Its lampshade silently swings like a pendulum.
Blink.
Blink.
Bliiiiink.
The lamp seems to blink gratefully.
BlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlinkBlink
... Not grateful, got it.
It's like I'm looking up at the dangling legs of a hanged prisoner.
Pwie doesn't seem to like these.
Pwie rested their hand on a couch.
<...! Meursault! Grab Pwie!>
Wh-what...?
Did I do something... wrong?
You did not. But... laying your hands on random objects in here could cause... problems.
Verily! For doing so may anger its owner!
It has an owner...? I didn't know. Nobody bought it, so... I thought it didn't have one.
'Tis… true. Yet…
Pwie barraged us with questions.
…!
Ah, young Pwie! Dost thy preference lean toward shoes on this side?
I like 'em more than the ones on the other side.
But I don't like like these...
'Tis fair to harbor such doubt, young Pwie! The journey for the perfect pair of shoes is most arduous indeed!
Aha! Dost thou enjoy this pair of shoes, perchance? Behold the sharp angle of the toe cap, and the pullable band hither to prevent most unfortunate accidents when its strings are undone!
... I dunno.
Very well! Then allow me to introduce these -
Don Quixote continued to showcase various shoes for Pwie, but none of those seemed to interest them much.
Mere seconds after I laid my hands on the black couch, the distinct shuffling of Furnishings begin creeping up toward us from the shadows.
…?
Furnishings of all kinds creak to life from all around us... and begin to creep in our direction.
Furnishings of all kinds creak to life from all around us... and begin to creep in our direction.
There are a dozen or so legs hanging from the ceiling, all wearing footwear of sorts. A chilling, alien sensation cuts through me.
A display of various shoes.
This display is empty. The label underneath it says [SOLD OUT].
Empty spots in the display stand out to me.
Black shoes with golden highlights.
A display of various, colorful shoes.
Shoes hang from the ceiling.
It's like looking up at the ceiling from the floor.
Elaborate shoes.
If this pair of shoes contains the Golden Hide, it's not obvious. The price is on the lower side.
He seems to be absorbed in deep thought. I call out to him, but fail to get a response.
[Le Noir Artisan Collection - An airtight noir collection that does permit even fragrance to escape - Currently taking reservations]
[Le Rouge Malletier's Collection - Leather trunk collection for those preparing for the runway. - Out of stock / no plans for restocking]
One corner of the glass display is broken. Someone reached in through there and swiped one of the handbags on display.
Reddish chunks of flesh and pale, white layer of fat incorporated into ash-gray mixture plastered into the walls.
Met the eye of one of the Noirs who have been incorporated into the wall.
Just as they were about to say something...
... the mixture dripped over their face, burying them.
Reddish chunks of flesh and pale, white layer of fat incorporated into ash-gray mixture plastered into the walls.
Busy at work trying to make the layers of meat as thin as possible.
How long do you expect me to wait? Quit lollygagging and bring them to me, now!
Not open yet. Quit rushing me and wait.
... Don Quixote won't be able to wear these shoes, but it'd make for a nice gift for her.
What's this?
Ah~ This is a pot! A home for plants.
Can I eat it?
If you're talking about the pot, then... no, they're generally inedible.
If thou speakest of the plant, then indeed! They are generally edible!
Do they taste good?
Hmm... That would depend on the plant.
Hearing that, Pwie plucked a leaf off the plant...
... and swallowed it.
H-how does it taste, young Pwie?
... Bit bitter.
Hm... Then allow me but the lightest dab of the tongue...
... Oho! 'Tis quite fragrant!
…….
*gag*
... Don Quixote continued to gag and retch for a while.
There's something basking in the sun.
Meursault picked up the Luminous Shoes.
There's a patch of sunlight falling on the wall. Beneath it are a few items from the Happy Closet's inventory.
It really is dark under the candlestick, huh?
Shall we take these with us, Manager Esquire?
<Sure, let's do that.>
Tap tap tap. Swish swish swish. Rhythmic tapping followed by brooms sweeping the floor.
The sound has gotten quieter now, as though it's coming from afar.
A rather healthy-looking pot of plant.
The leaves are swaying softly in the wind. Where's the wind blowing from, anyway?
Is there a handbag shop somewhere on this floor?
This bench looks like it'd hurt the back to sit on for too long.
The ominous creaking came to a stop.
The strident creaking came to a stop.
... Sank right into itself.
The corpse of a Rouge. Blood has pooled in the shoe that fell off.
The corpse of a Rouge. All those shoes did nothing to help them escape.
Was the Arc Floor Lamp ready for such an end?
It'll never illuminate or hang anything again.
A red puddle slowly spreads from its bloodsoaked, broken body. Even the sunlight isn't bright enough to dry all that blood.
Thought death would do them part, but it's only tangled them closer together.
Doubt anyone's going to buy this pile of bloody mess, now.
The frame is completely shattered. It doesn't make for a very good bed anymore.
[미사용] <시체인 것 같다.>
I wonder if this one's like the contorted Mannequins on the first floor...? To demonstrate to customers how this bag can be worn at every angle...?
The pillars here are intact, unlike the ones on the other side.
Same design as the handbag displayed in the corridor.
... It moved.
[Chevalier : A objet containing the total history of Le Noir Handbags Hall, which has spearheaded the art of handbag design since the Grand Magasin Sisyphe's inception.]
<... Hey, this one looks artsy.>
Ooooh! Though it paleth before dearest Rocinante, 'tis an excellent steed indeed!
…!
<... I think the horse just glared at you?>
P-prithee, accept mine apologies, young steed of... wood. Forgive my... comment most foolish.
It does not reply.
[Chevalier : A objet containing the total history of Le Noir Handbags Hall, which has spearheaded the art of handbag design since the Grand Magasin Sisyphe's inception.]
Pwie seems completely disinterested in these.
A clean and nicely organized handbags display.
Contains various tools for handbag maintenance. Seems unnecessary to take these.
Something's fallen behind the pillar.
[... Designer... not joining... it seems.]
[No obstructive elements found. Will... with... other...]
Erased in a few places.
[Contained Shedding: By shedding, one finally contains.]
[Contained Shedding: By shedding, one finally contains.]
Something has fallen beneath the display stand. A few loose strands of thread lie on the floor.
Silver-threaded strands and pitch-black ones... and between them, a single Golden Fiber drifts in the air.
There's a light powdering of dust over the handbag on display.
A fallen pillar. Looks like it's been that way for a while.
A rather healthy-looking pot of plant.
This bench looks like it'd hurt the back to lie down on for too long.
We used the scissors to cut the Golden Hide from the wall.
Pained weeping can be heard intermittently.
The wall is still drying.
In the end, he has no children to mourn his demise, nor masterpieces for the world to remember him by.
Dough of... flesh in a bucket.
This'll look good on Pwie.
Tiny bags. These won't hold much.
Hanging curtains of flesh have invaded the display cases.
In a world where it is so hard to stand on even with two legs, to stand up straight on one leg is a difficult task, regardless of one's nobility.
Barely managed to catch it from scampering all over the place after tailing it for a while.
Barely managed to catch this thing blindly running amok.
Barely managed to catch this thing by its whiskers. It always left a long streak as it ran...
A patch of once-luscious hair lies scattered on the ground withered, having lost all of its vibrance.
It has ground its teeth to tiny shards.
Its eyeball has popped and squeezed out of the skull.
The open cracks won't be filled again.
They don't sell bodybags here.
Whoaaaaa... You guys...
You have someone so, so... special with you.
I'm so lucky and grateful... to have a chance to meet someone like that...
…….
Pwie hid behind us, evidently feeling a bit anxious from the overly saccharine reception.
Pwie be their name, kind vendor! Fortunes both ill and good have brought them presently under our care... A bashful young child, I say.
Ah, yes. Please look after them well. Oh, and if you wanted to take a look at the shoes in our store... you'd better make it quick.
We'll probably be closing down, soon.
Why is that?
Because the Noirs'll probably evict us.
Le Rouge is in decline... our Voice is growing increasingly faint and stretched. The higher Rouges already saw this coming a long time ago.
…….
Lost... and abandoned... all over again.
But I don't mind, because I know how to get home.
Home?
Yes, home. The place where we all came from. We each had one - and I'm sure you do, too. A place to return to, where people are waiting for you to come back.
Hm! The bus! is our place to return to... Indeed, a bus! so grand and dashing, young Mephi... And within that handsome bus, Lord Red Gaze, a Color Fixer most illustrious... and young Charon await our return.
... Hoh... How peculiar! 'Tis as hazy as though I am speaking of events a millennium ago...
Oh, that's interesting. I thought the residents of the Grand Magasin never talked about their lives before coming here.
It's true, we do have to forget many, many things to become customers of this department store. I barely remember anything about the life I had before coming here.
The only memory I have left of the outside world... is the face of someone crying. When the judge's gavel hit the stand and sentenced me to the Sisyphe Penalty, our eyes met - and I saw tears streaming down their cheeks.
Ah, verily... The finality and the weight behind the gavel as it hammered the stand... could bring tears to one's eyes. I recall feeling as though my vision had darkened from the sheer shock.
Where is it that you seek to journey?
We're trying to get to the fifth floor.
Ah, perfect... I know how to get to the fifth floor. I can share that secret with you... if you help me find my way home.
<...! She knows how we can get to the fifth floor?!>
She didn't really say anything of much significance to us when we were helping the Noirs... She was just a sales rep at a shoe store, and that's all she was to us.
If the different choices we've made so far will unlock the fifth floor for us... maybe we can prove Jeanne wrong and bring us to a different end.
<Tell her that we'll help.>
... We will help.
Yay... Happy, so happy...
Ever heard the story about the Heartshard Slippers? A living, pulsing pair of shoes embedded with an iridescent red shard of heart.
They say clapping its heels thrice will guide you home...
I've been trying to make one, and I have all the materials, but... I've not been able to get my hands on the heart shard.
Where can we get the heart shard...?
... I don't know. There was this bejeweled person who used to manage this floor, and they had a beautiful heart...
... But they disappeared some time ago, and haven't been seen in a while.
They really were a giving soul... I remember how they never hesitated to share their treasures with everyone.
<A giving soul...>
... You will find them in the Furniture Hall.
Oh, really...? Then please, go find the heart shard for me.
And I'll tell you how to get to the fifth floor.
Hang on a minute... that lamp - he's got way more stuff than we do!
... Gimme your toenails, at least. I don't wanna fall behind.
And give up that pull switch, too.
N-now hold your damn horses, everyone. This pull switch didn't come from -
But he doesn't get to finish his sentence as the Furnishings begin to pile onto each other.
The racket eventually dies down, and all movements cease. Only a pile of broken Furnishings remain.
... Ooh... A glittering heart. It's still beating, too.
With this... I can fashion the slippers that will take me home.
And you'll also tell us how to reach the fifth floor, yes?
Mhm... I go home, and you go to the fifth floor.
Follow me.
Here, here.
... You hear it too, don't you?
H-hear what...?
The whisper guiding us home. Don't you hear it? The heartbeat from the shoes - it's quickening.
Now, this spot... is where I'll clap the heels together. Three times.
*tap* *tap* *tap*
As the heels of the shoes struck each other...
An opening appeared in the wall, leading somewhere beyond.
Art thou certain... that this truly be thy homeward road?
Mhm. This... is the Lost Child Center.
A gathering place... for children... lost on their way home...
I need the heart of the giving soul to go home...
Can you please let me know when you find it?
The heart is likely in the Furniture Hall on the same floor, Manager.
I'll be waiting.
... It smells of flowers...
…….
If only we can all vanish without a trace...
If only we can all return to the earth...
Then I'll get to see their face again... The one who wept for me.
The violet petals will take us all back home...
<…!>
<There's an Abnormality in here...?>
Something resembling a pair of shoes was placed neatly atop the Abnormality's remains.
There you go, the key... to the fifth floor...
... You came here knowing that you'd die?
Ah... What a sweet scent.
I will... go back to the grave... with the lost... children...
She... has not yet informed us how to reach the fifth floor, Manager.
... She was taken that way. Deeper in.
Then we need only venture further to her aid!
... This might be dangerous for you, too.
Verily, I say, for no adventure is without peril!
<…!>
<The way to the escalator is blocked.>
It would be reasonable to explore the nearby stores first.
Welcome! Come right in. Excuse the mess; we've only just opened - so we've been repainting the interior.
…….
As you can see, the wallpaper won't stick smoothly when too many Noirs keep moving beneath it. The finish is far from the ideal interior design, too.
Our brand is, well, brand new. Despite that, we recently completed a successful collaboration with Briand, the model on the sixth floor.
If I can ensure this establishment opens without issues, it might become the best Handbags Hall that's ever been erected by the Rouges!
Ahh... Papering the wall... what a pleasing endeavor...
Um... 'twould seem the path toward the escalator hath been blocked...
And why should that matter? All that matters is how perfectly smooth the wallpaper will look once it's up on the walls.
She's really absorbed in her work.
<Let's try speaking to the salesperson next to this one...>
... Welcome.
…!
You...
... This one seems to be my follower.
But of course! The instant I beheld you, all the blood vessels in my body started to thrum for no one else but you. Your presence fills me with rapture...
Every Rouge who calls themselves faithful will cherish you, worship you, and offer everything at their disposal only for you.
... I know.
Honored strangers, please care for our most precious one with the utmost devotion.
That we shall. We have even shod Young Pwie in a pair of shoes.
... I have another request. Renée often mutters to herself while staring at the wall. A little self-directed discourse is harmless, of course; every handbag designer is fated to contemplate the great dilemma of design in the marrow of their bones.
But Renée, you see...
She likes to press her face against the wall and mutter without end... It's simply incessant. I'd like to stop being an unwilling audience to her hair-raising antics.
At first, I thought she was taking a bite or two out of the wall, unable to contain her hunger... but no. She's simply rubbing her face against the wall. Never stops.
Would you be so kind as to inspect what she sees in the wall... and who she's speaking to?
Once that's dealt with... I believe I can clear the path leading to the escalator.
<There's a voice... coming from inside the wall...>
I've been following the sunlight faithfully from the first moment it reached out to this place.
That's why the Rouges and the Noirs are both fools for obsessing over the Golden Hide without a care for the future. The collapse of the department store was sealed... when the cracks first appeared on the walls.
If you're going to kick me out of the shop... at least let me bury myself in this sunlit wall. Let me remain in the light forever...
... What do you say, strangers? Ought I show this thing mercy?
I will lend my ears to your judgment.
I'll bury you inside the wall. It will be... your final piece of interior work.
Thank you. I'll wait in here, basking in sunshine, until everything inevitably dries up...
That's a no, Renée.
I can't let a vile Néant live.
... You do that. The sunlight... never scorns those who do not follow it, anyway.
All it wants is to wait... and to embrace.
It's quiet. Like nothing had happened.
Please call me up if you need help finding anything. We've just opened, so our handbags collection is brand-new.
Don't hesitate to try them and see how they look on you.
Oh, well. We'll need to hire a new clerk. I suppose I shouldn't assign the next one to wallpapering...
... It's not long now, my children.
Soon, you will be born as the most precious and beloved beings in this department store...
... Hello. Do you happen to know how to get to the escalator of this floor?
... Whether or not I know, it would do you little good. Getting on an escalator only makes noise.
That vulgar grinding of metal gnaws at the delicate minds of my unfinished children - the more beautiful the being, the more sensitive it is. And they are nothing if not sensitive.
Children, thou sayest...? Where be these children?
They will wake soon. My masterpieces, born only of this department store's golden materials.
This is my 68th attempt. Surely it will succeed. 68 is an excellent number.
I don't... care about that.
What I want to know is... how to get to the escalator.
... What a tiresome little abomination.
Well, this might prove convenient. Bring me golden materials from the roaming mannequins if you wish to know the way there.
Get me enough of what I ask for, and I may tell you.
<... Let's do as he says.>
We brought the -
Ahh, yes! At last!
<... He didn't even let us finish before grabbing them.>
Golden Eye, Golden Tooth... and Golden Hair.
Now, my masterpieces... You may open your 68th eyes.
... Pa... pa?
Eeeek! Those uggos are burning my eyes! Shield my eyes, Papa...
Are we... the best pieces now...?
The children he meant... were those bags?
Who might these "uggos" be?
I think they mean us.
<Just another variation of the unsolicited fashion advice we've been getting since entering this department store...>
Come, I shall grant you the special honor of laying eyes upon my children.
And this curve was modeled after the neckline of a sixth-floor model - the model who drew the eyes of so many.
I'm worth more than I was yesterday, aren't I, Papa?
Of course. Your value rises with every passing day.
And this child's eye is made from a shard taken from a full-length mirror - the very same one cherished by the customer who wore the most expensive attire in all of the Grand Magasin. It is saturated with that customer's longing.
Papa, why don't those things covet us when they look at us?
Shh, child. These customers are not worthy of possessing you. Merely being permitted to look is more than they deserve.
... Did you hear my child? And that thing you're traveling with is... simply ghastly. Do ensure it never associates with my children again.
The handbag designer slowly began to strangle the bags he had called his children.
What is this heinous treachery?! To take the lives of those who call thee father...!
No, they're no children of mine...! My children are only the very best, and these are anything but!
What... what madness this be...?
You should have been born with every part made of glittering, golden material...
Ghk... uggo. Ug... go...
So you found the Voice, too.
It's so very warm... isn't it?
Aah... I feel I could remain like this forever.
I want to wedge my whole body into this crack and stay there, listening to the Voice and basking in the warmth until the day arrives...
... It seemeth our words do not at all reach them.
She rubs herself against the wall, oblivious to the dead flesh sloughing off her face and ears from the friction.
This one is not my follower.
She serves something else...
Did you discover what she - aah!
What do you think you're doing?! Get your face off the wall!
Don't interfere... don't pull me away from that peaceful rest...
To think a horrendous Néant was hiding in our establishment...
We... are everywhere. We await only the day the sunlight will flood the Grand Magasin...
And when that day arrives, we'll cast off this suffocating skin of clothes and sit on the debris of the Grand Magasin's ruin, basking in the sunlight that will take us in its warm embrace.
... You. When did you defect to their side?
The Néants... appeared soon after the cracks formed in the department store. They conceal themselves and blend in among us insidiously.
They may seem to behave like us on the surface, but their true objective lies elsewhere.
Oh, well. We'll need to hire a new clerk. I suppose I shouldn't assign the next one to wallpapering...
The escalator to the fifth floor is past Le Noir's Handbags Hall where its designer works.
I hear that designer lost his mind ages ago and became obsessed with creating the greatest bag in existence.
Though I don't have high hopes, him being a mere Noir and all...
One side... wants to keep protecting the Golden,
and the other side... wants to keep peeling off and eating the Golden.
They hate each other, and what they want is completely opposite. Why is that?
…….
That is... a conflict between the desire to remember and the desire to experience.
The desire to remember is the impulse to preserve something of value as it is and retain it for as long as possible.
The desire to experience is the impulse to anticipate that value, then consume it and undergo the experience for oneself.
The department store is an ecosystem in which those two impulses have diverged and been driven to the extremes.
Memory, and experience...
Which one did you choose?
... That is a difficult question.
I do not believe it is required to choose between them.
But suppose one day you're forced to?
... I would answer that I do not know.
Why don't you know?
... I will let you know... if I arrive at an answer.
This escalator is out of order. Maybe there's something we could do on the fourth floor to get it moving again.
There are remaining tasks here.
Lifting the uncovered part of the wall reveals an open vent. It's narrow, but we could probably crawl through it.
But the hole extends into impenetrable darkness.
Remember this place? We had it built long ago. Can't have a department store without a visitor or two getting lost in its mazes, after all...
Much like the little stray you've taken along.
A being born of the Grand Magasin itself... I wonder if that thing'll grow up to become a Giant like us, as the Rouges intended? Perhaps it'll find a seat where your mother used to sit?
... Well, at least the Head hasn't come kicking this place's door down yet... Which means it decided not to take issue with that kid's existence.
Why do you think that is? Is it because that thing can't exist outside Sisyphe anyway?
Say, have you ever thought about it?
Death, I mean, and the aversion to it. It's a perfectly natural response, isn't it?
That's why there are numerous requirements to satisfy before one can purchase Canned Experiences containing cruelty and violence.
Now then, some food for thought - have you ever wondered why sexuality, like death, provokes similar aversion and censorship?
There are many possible answers, I'm sure... But here's mine.
We're afraid of and revolted by both procreation and death because... at the end of the day, birthing something is no different from killing it.
I say inviting someone into this world - forcing them to be born - is pure violence, an act as grossly irresponsible as murder.
So, there it is. Dragging someone into the world unawares, and removing them from it - neither has an ounce of respect for their volition.
They're fundamentally the same thing.
Humans know this by instinct. But that is precisely what causes the pain of dissonance. Because it clashes with our nature, which is hardwired to do anything for the preservation of our species.
This is why the ideas of birth and death are both so terrifying and alluring at the same time. It's simply how we're made - to be human is to be tempted to play with what is taboo.
The Rouges are perpetually excreting. Birthing.
The Noirs want no part in any of that. They don't want to give birth to anything, nor do they wish to experience death.
And... Ta-da! This is what the Grand Magasin is to me:
A place where desire swells and bursts with no restraint, put on exhibit. Everything is for sale here.
Ah, a slide~! A place for children, maybe?
What's a slide?
It's a playground ride. You climb the ladders on one side, and sliiiide down the decline on the other side.
Would you like to give it a try, Pwie?
I don't like going down...
It's more fun than you might think~
Indeed, Pwie! Not once have I met a child who disliketh the slide. Prithee, give it a slide!
<We don't have much time, guys... How about we come back to it later?>
Prithee, Manager Esquire! It will only take but a moment!
<... Fine. It's just a slide, after all.>
Now, young Pwie... climb from this side, and - ah, be sure to stretch both of thy legs forward! And allow the declining path to carry thee...
... as I have demonstrated!!
Climb... from this side, and...
…!
... That was fun.
Watching you have fun makes me happy, too~
... Can I go again?
<... Why not.>
The manager has given their authorization. You may go again.
Woo.
Pwie happily bounced up the stairs to the top of the slide once again.
I wanna go again. I wanna go again.
... Manager.
<... We should probably get going.>
'Tis not to disagree with thee, Manager Esquire... Yet hast thou not seen how much joy this activity granteth the child? Just once more, and we shall carry on with haste.
<... Sure.>
Pwie happily bounced up the stairs to the top of the slide once again.
... Pwie runs to the top of the slide again without even asking us.
<... Uh... Guys, we really gotta...>
You can ride it some more later.
Later...? When?
... Mm.
In the end, we let Pwie play as much as they wanted.
... Is it really that fun?
…….
Did you... want to go on the slide too, Dante?
Are you thinking of riding the slide right now, Manager?
<…….>
It's not much fun.
Found a piece of paper inside the drawer.
[MISSING PERSON]
[Description: Burn scar on the face, scarf, leather bag...]
[Last Seen: Plaza Sisyphe, 1F, ■■■ Memorial Hall]
<... Burn scar?>
Someone you know?
<... Maybe. Where's Plaza Sisyphe, though?>
…….
Meursault said nothing. He stared at the paper for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, then shook his head as if to say he didn't know.
Most of the documents are notices searching for particular customers. The one we saw earlier was the last one looking for a "person."
... I truly hope this isn't true.
Did the dice from the PA Room roll all the way down here?
A useless, heavy die.
Blocks assembled like a house.
Tried pushing on it, but it doesn't crumble. It's been solidly fixed.
With the wish of returning home nestled deep within her heart, she's been laid to rest beneath a burial of flower petals next to all those who are lost.
Saw the briefest glimpse of a smile before the wall mixture slid down and buried the face behind it.
Handbag... -looking things are sitting still in silent, bated breath.
Mmhm, mmhm. Look at me, so dense and sturdy.
My price won't ever stop going up.
Do you mind? Look away, or you'll wear me away with your gaze.
This fabric was sewn stitch by stitch by my own hand. It's tough and resilient.
Mmhmm! My skin's tough. It never tears.
…….
You're not... "the best."
I've seen fabric that shines brighter than this.
No. That's... impossible. Brighter than this?
Yeah, a bolt of Golden Fabric woven to rip me apart. It's the same fabric wrapped around that big one's fists.
... You possess fabric made of gold?
... Yes.
For what felt like minutes, the designer stared blankly at the Golden Fabric wrapped around Meursault's gauntlet, disbelief written across his face.
How could I have failed to notice that? That light inside your bag, it's... Fabric woven from exceptionally pure Golden Thread... Magnificent...
But... I heard that the Golden Thread can be woven only from fabled materials now only passed down as tales and legends... That, even if you were to acquire them somehow, it would take countless seasons of waiting on B2 to truly complete it...
It's the reason... I have never once seen anyone wear Golden Fabric.
... So the materials composing my children... were not the finest this time either.
All of this is pointless... if you're not the best...
Ugly! Anything that isn't made from Golden Thread is ugly!
... Did we fail again, Papa?
The best... When?
I... don't want... to die... Pa... pa...
The best... when? The... best...
Don Quixote raised her lance and charged at the designer, but...
There is something more important than surviving, children. And it is... to remain beautiful.
Ghh...!
... her attack amounted to nothing. Only Meursault was capable of causing physical harm in the Symbolic.
Wait just a little longer. I'll find something even more precious than the Golden Fabric... And with it, my hands will birth the greatest masterpiece the Grand Magasin has ever known...!
How... could one be so wicked...?
... All those precious materials that went into creating them, and they still weren't good enough for you. Just how... do you intend to make anything finer than the Golden Fabric?
... Perhaps the answer to that lies in the deepest underground, beneath even the Nest where threads are spun... Yes, where they say the Rouges' most precious hides are tanned and processed.
It has to be true... The Rouge I used as my firstborn's handle gasped that rumor with its dying breath.
Besides, after the thread comes the hide. Such is the way of fashion.
No matter how many seasons it takes... I will descend. I'll get my hands on the finest hide out there... and create the best children I have ever had!
... I doubt anything we say will reach you now.
But perhaps... your "most perfect" child... was the very first bag you ever made.
... Nonsense. Go, go take the escalator... I won't bother seeing you out.
<…….>
The 69th attempt will surely, surely...
<... We should go.>
... Why did he abandon them?
Apparently they didn't shine as brightly as he wanted. I don't think he knows that nothing in the world can shine as brightly as his expectations.
... You can't abandon me.
Because I can't afford to stop... if I'm to reach what I want.
The Manager... won't abandon you.
What about you?
…….
I know naught of thy desires, Young Pwie... But pray, endeavor with all thy heart, and thy dream shall bear fruit!
... I dunno if it's my "dream." I don't even know what "dream" is.
A dream, Young Pwie, is the roaring fire that fuels the spirit of adventure! Verily, though one might dream nightmares of treble dread that tarry one's feet...
Yet if thou endurest every trial and chargest ever onward... then thou shalt surely reach what thou desirest!
What are your dreams...?
Ahem! 'Tis to become a Fixer most valiant and ...! Uh, though at present, I suppose our dream is to reach the highest floor of this department store. However, that will come to pass only after we take thee to the fifth floor, Young Pwie...
I don't get it.
There isn't an "after" once you take me there.
You have to stay with me on the fifth floor.
<... Looks like little Pwie doesn't wanna say goodbye.>
Young Pwie... we too would be loath to part with thee - alas, we cannot linger on the fifth floor for all eternity.
Why...? Is it because you miss "Lord Red Gaze"... and... the person you call "Young Charon"?
Hmm... that is not entirely wrong, forsooth...
... Can't you just stay with me?
We have a lot of things to do outside this department store. So... I don't think we can stay with you forever, Pwie.
Then...
If you didn't have those "things to do"... we'd stay together?
I doubt such a day shall ever arrive...
But should it arrive, then thou canst accompany us and remain by our side instead!
I couldn't say for sure whether Don Quixote's answer was good enough for them, but Pwie asked no more questions and quietly took their place behind Meursault.
<We need to tread only over the flower petals. Strangely enough, flower doesn't seem to bloom from under them.>
That addresseth one issue indeed, alas... there were many other troubles along the way...
The paths are winding and confounding indeed, yet an even greater trouble is the Abnormality's cowardice...! To flit away like that at every opportunity!
Hmm~ The arena was pretty complicated, yes, but it wasn't all that expansive, right? Considering the size of the Abnormality, there are only so many places it could go...
<No, it was pretty expansive... Ah, well. Let's try this again.>
Fie... To be defeated by such craven foes who attack from the cover of shadows...
<Ambushed by furnishings, huh...>
We'll have to be careful to not attract too many drawers' attention.
<Meursault, you have to talk to the furnishings while you and the furnishing are both in the light.>
Yes, Manager.
A rather healthy-looking pot of plant. Some of its leaves has been plucked out.