Haute Couture::Le Noir Footwear Hall Ryōshū's Story

Though thou canst sate thyself, thou shalt not. Though thou canst indulge, thou shalt refrain.

.......

You've got the look of someone fresh out of the crib. A new customer.

Are... are you talking to me?

Who else? A fool with the gall to pair a Le Noir shirt with that revolting Rouge coat - you.

Have you come to buy shoes?

Y-yes. I was told this was the place to go for a good pair...

It's already been two whole seasons since I first set foot in Grand Magasin Sisyphe.

I still haven't thrown in my lot with either the Rouges or the Noirs. All this time, I've been searching for some way to get word to the world outside...

... but no one here has the faintest idea how. Everything in this department store travels by word of mouth: conversations, rumors... and nothing beyond that.

S.W.R.Y.

... Sorry? I mean, pardon?

It means "Surprised word reached you."

Is that how this department store works? The higher you climb, the further you leave common sense behind?

No matter how I look at it, I just can't figure out why she felt the need to chop "surprised word reached you" down to "S.W.R.Y."

I'm trying to get somewhere. I've been going back and forth all over the department store, looking for that place... And all that walking's worn my shoes right down.

Do you have a pair that'll hold up? Something sturdy enough to take a bit of wear and tear...?

The soles of my feet are really starting to feel it...

Hardly surprising. You insist on trampling the ground with both legs, every chance you get.

Still... as a Two-legs, I suppose you're walking on few enough legs to merit service.

These ones look nice... How much would a pair set me back?

Oh...? So there is a little taste beneath that appalling ensemble.

320 eyeballs. They're woven from fabric that had been left to bask under bright sunshine for a good, long while... until it dried out to the very last thread.

Four-legs. Go to the storage and fetch the insoles for this pair.

"Four-legs"...?

The table the proprietress of the Footwear Hall was resting her leg on... or what I'd assumed was a table... began to move, walking away on all four legs.

Sure, this department store is full of people who look as though they've gone overboard with bodily modifications, or have prostheses grafted onto every inch of their bodies...

But walking around on four legs? That's a first.

Tch. Crawling on all four legs, and the lowly plebeian still can't pick up the pace.

Walking on four legs... makes you a lowly plebeian?

Shoes may be made for walking upon the ground, but there is no dignity in trampling about without a care. It's the height of vulgarity.

And naturally, the shoes you wear are worth all the less for it.

Ah, right... But what does that have to do with -

Thou shalt not defy the rules. Every moment of thy suffering is etched into and remembered by Sisyphe itself.

... Don't question what is self-evident, stranger, or the order upheld by our rules.

Um... One-leg, ma'am.

What is it?

... I'm afraid we're out of the hide insoles for those shoes.

And you didn't think to review our stock before we opened for business...?

Gah...!

The proprietress kicked Four-legs all the way across the hall, then stood up with a disgusted click of her tongue.

Follow me, stranger.

W-where are we going?

To the Rouge Footwear Hall. We're paying those red wretches a visit.

For insoles, at least... their hides are second to none.

Revolting things... Flaying the Golden Resin off the walls as you please, all to plaster it over your lowly bodies...

Consider yourselves privileged. I'm giving you the chance to become a One-leg's insole.

W-wait a minute... I thought we were here to make insoles for my shoes...?

... I'll consider it if there's material to spare.

What...?!

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the proprietress launched herself at the Rouges. Her leg was already sweeping through the air before I could even blink.

Every so often, a shockwave erupted amid her kicks and tore through the store. In the space of a few moments, the Rouges' store was reduced to a shambles, as though a storm had ripped straight through it.

Whoa... that thing you just did, with those shockwaves... Was that N Corp.'s Singularity at work? Or some kind of tech that uses it?

"Singularity"...? What's that supposed to mean?

Uh... well, I was going by the fact that you work here at Grand Magasin Sisyphe... You're one of the staff, aren't you?

So I figured your equipment would use N Corp.'s Singularity... or at least have some patented tech worked into it. That's why I asked...

S.O.D.A.

...?

"Such outlandish drivel, astonishing," N.C.

But enough of that. Stop being a nuisance and move out of the way.

Need to land a proper kick to take them out - the reds have hides as tough as old boots.

At first glance, you might've thought there was only one person standing guard over the Rouge store...

But appearances only tell a part of the story in this place.

The Alterationist had told me about... "The Shadowed", if I'm not mistaken. A space shared by customers of sufficient rank and the right aptitude... or by those with similar ways of thinking, or similar tastes.

And that means...

... I suppose that takes care of the insole shortage.

So it would seem. But... there's a snag, stranger.

They've layered on more Golden Resin than I expected. The content... is at least twice what I'd allowed for.

Hang on... Don't tell me -

500... No, make that 600.

... Guess I'll head back downstairs and scrounge up more eyeballs.