Vertin: Is this the spot?
Argus: Sure as shooting.
The hallway looks identical to any other.
Argus: Look, these footprints.
Argus: They're less than ten minutes old.
Vertin: But where's the door to room 707?
Vertin: I can sense some energy fluctuations nearby, but they're definitely not from arcane skills.
She presses her palm against the wall.
Vertin: What else could produce such intense energy?
Tuesday: Oh, can I help you with something?
The maid's voice comes unexpectedly from behind them.
Argus: Ms. Tuesday, I've got a question for you.
She stares intently at the maid, her gaze sharp as if she's finally caught the scent of her prey.
Argus: Do you know how to get to room 707?
Tuesday: 707?
Argus: Yup. What I've been looking for might just be in that room.
Tuesday: Hmm. I'm usually more than happy to satisfy the requests of my guests, as long as it's within my power.
Tuesday: But this one crosses the line.
Argus: Shame. Looks like negotiations are over.
Argus: And thence we came forth to see again the stars.
After a brief moment, a glimmer of emerald light reignites in her eye.
Tuesday: Using arcane skills so frequently is bad for your eyes.
Tuesday: Didn't your family ever tell you that?
Her voice carries genuine concern.
Argus: So you knew what we were doing all along.
Tuesday: Ha, of course. You weren't exactly subtle in your actions. What did you expect?
Tuesday: But you've reached your limit now.
Tuesday: Three.
Argus: What's that supposed to mean?
Tuesday: Two.
Argus: Tsk, screw this. Your mind games won't work on me.
Tuesday: One.
Argus: ...
The light in the mercenary's eye goes out in an instant.
Her eyes widen.
Argus: Huh? Who turned the lights off?
Tuesday: ...
Vertin: ...
The hallway lights are as bright as ever.
Tuesday: The lights are still on, dear.
Argus doesn't respond. She pulls a Picrasma candy from her pocket.
Her hands tremble slightly, causing it to slip from her grasp and fall to the floor with a clack.
Vertin: ...
She picks it up and places it back in Argus's hand.
Vertin: You rely far too much on Picrasma candy. It can't solve all your problems.
Argus: ...
She tosses the candy into her mouth and chews it along with the dust from the floor.
Argus: They usually work wonders for me.
Argus: Just one candy restores 50% of my vision. But in my line of work, 50% is never enough.
Argus: That's why I take two. I need my vision to be at least 100%.
She runs the candy along her tongue, and the expected sweetness fills her mouth.
Argus: That'll do the job most of the time, but sometimes I've got an extremely challenging task.
Argus: That's when I eat a third candy. At that point, it's getting extremely dangerous.
She pops another candy into her mouth.
Argus: I should be able to see now.
Argus: ...
No miracle occurs. Her eyes remain still, like a night sky with no stars.
Argus: Sh-Should I take more?
Tuesday: Absolutely not.
Tuesday: The large amount of candy you've eaten is exactly why your eyes have failed you, and in such a crucial moment, no less.
Tuesday: Excess leads to destruction. This is true for all things. You'd do well to learn your limits.
Argus: What?
Tuesday: I also had to be careful not to frighten those children too much.
The maid seems to relive some fond memories, a satisfied look on her pale face.
Tuesday: Hmph. You've always put your faith in these candies, haven't you?
Tuesday: One candy, 50% recovery; two candies, 100%; three candies, and you can tackle even the most insurmountable problem.
Tuesday: Oh, how dependable they are! Just like the venerable Argus who succeeds in any job she takes on!
She chuckles.
Tuesday: Heh heh.
Tuesday: It's precisely your excessive confidence in these candies that has led to your marvelous destruction.
Tuesday: Just as the people's trust in you as a mercenary has led you to this bottomless abyss. Oh, you poor thing.
Tuesday: And of course, they'd never have imagined this. Argus, the mercenary named after the hundred-eyed, all-seeing giant, is in fact a blind fool!
Argus: Who the hell are you?!
She fires in the direction of her voice, the gunshot ringing in their ears.
???: —!
The bullet pierces the wall, and a strange wail echoes through the halls of the motel.
Argus: Damn it! Damn it!
Tuesday: Hahaheh. Missed me.
She digs her fingers into her hand as she tries to control her trembling.
Tuesday: Uhn.
She steps forward, pushing her chest against the barrel of the gun.
Tuesday: There you go. Now there's no way you can miss.
Tuesday: But do you have the guts to pull the trigger?
She tilts her head slightly, smiling.
Tuesday: The decision's yours to make, but once I'm dead, you'll never find room 707.
Tuesday: Barbara, Kayla, everything you're looking for is all in that room, isn't it?
Argus: Don't you dare say her name with that filthy mouth!
Tuesday: But why? Ms. Kayla's such a lovely guest. I've very much enjoyed her company.
The maid looks at the mercenary's face with interest as it twists in rage.
Vertin: Enough.
Vertin: You and I need to have a serious talk.
Tuesday: Oh, there's no need for that.
Tuesday: Actually, my baby's eager to meet you.
Vertin: Your baby?
She looks at the bundle of swaddling cloth in the maid's arms.
Tuesday: Yes. In fact, the baby is the master of this motel.
She holds out the bundle.
Tuesday: I think the two of you ought to meet each other first. Here, hold it.
She places it in her arms. The bundle is much lighter than she expected—not the weight of a child.
Vertin: This is ...
She sees the carpet beneath her feet transform into a quagmire. Tuesday stands on top of the mud, smiling at her.
Argus: Vertin? Vertin!
The mercenary's shouts are dulled. It's as if she's been plunged under water.
She hears hurried footsteps approaching from a distance and feels the once-light bundle become as heavy as lead.
Something engulfs her ankles, pulling her down, down, down into a world of endless darkness.
Argus: Let go of it, Vertin!
An emerald flame struggles to light up, and the mercenary, lying on the ground, tightly grabs her hand.
Argus: I ain't letting our deal end this way! Not while I draw breath!
Vertin: Argus ...
Argus: Aaargh!
The maid presses her foot against Argus's fingers and steps down. Argus screams in pain.
Tuesday: Don't you interrupt them.
Tuesday: There's no need to worry, Ms. Vertin. I've done this countless times.
Tuesday: Now, allow me to peer into your dreams.
