Volume 3 - CH 3.2

Arriving in a horse-drawn carriage in front of the huge octagonal brick building—the department store Jeantan—Kazuya, Inspector Blois, and two officers pushed their way past the doorman standing upright in front of the glass door and entered.

The purple-uniformed sales staff of various nationalities looked at them, moving only their heads in unison. It was as though a flock of birds perched on a tree was startled by a sound, all looking in the same direction. Their faces were as expressionless as Noh masks.

Inspector Blois stood frozen for a moment, bewildered, then pulled himself together and turned to Kazuya. “What now, Kujou?”

Kazuya nodded and ran his eyes over the faces of the sales staff. When he spotted the good-looking Scandinavian man, he pointed at him.

“First, I asked him where the Blue Rose paperweights were sold.”

The young man cocked his head. “I apologize, sir, but I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” he said skeptically in broken French.

Kazuya remembered his Scandinavian accent. He stared back at the man, confused himself. “What? You just talked to me a while ago. I asked you where the Blue Rose was.”

“You must be mistaken. I’m afraid we’ve never met.”

The man insisted that he didn’t know the boy.

Kazuya was perplexed.

“Is there a problem?” asked a low voice.

Kazuya turned around and saw another familiar face.

A classy suit and a tanned, well-toned body. An imposing man in his mid-thirties, he was the one who shouted at Kazuya when he wandered into the room of glass cases on the top floor.

“I’m the owner,” he said. “My name is Garnier. What can I do for you?”

The name Mr. Garnier rang a bell to Kazuya. A successful young man who made his fortune after the end of the Great War, he purchased the long-established department store Jeantan a few years ago.

“We met upstairs, didn’t we?” Kazuya said. “Well, after that—”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mr. Garnier, too, tilted his head curiously.

Kazuya’s breath caught in his throat. The young sales staff slowly gathered behind Mr. Garnier, tilting their heads in unison. Their faces were devoid of emotion, yet somehow their expressionless features conveyed immeasurable malice.

“We met on the top floor, the room with the oak door,” Kazuya said, flustered. “There were a lot of glass cases inside!”

Perplexed, Mr. Garnier studied Kazuya curiously, then looked at Inspector Blois. “What is this oriental boy saying?”

“I, uhh…” Panicking, Inspector Blois nudged Kazuya. “Do something!”

An eerie silence descended. The staff slowly surrounded Kazuya, Inspector Blois, and the two officers.

Mr. Garnier laughed. “Only staff is allowed in that room,” he said.

“I went in by mistake,” Kazuya replied. “I was following that guy’s directions.”

Mr. Garnier turned to the young staff, but he shook his head, as though saying he had no idea what the boy was talking about.

“That can’t be right,” Kazuya said.

“So what kind of room was it, then?”

“Uhm…”

“If you really entered the room, you should be able to describe it!” Mr. Garnier’s voice rose all of a sudden.

Kazuya flinched, but he stood his ground. “Okay, then. Let’s see… the door was made of oak. There were many glass cases inside. The wallpaper was brown and the floor had checkered tiles. There was also a chandelier with a flower motif.” He turned to Inspector Blois. “Let’s check that room first. Then you’ll know that I’m telling the truth.”

The inspector nodded reluctantly and gestured to his two accompanying officers.

A flicker of unease flashed across Mr. Garnier’s face.

Kazuya took the elevator to the top floor with the inspector and the officers. Mr. Garnier and three young staff also joined them.

After exiting the elevator, they walked down a long corridor flanked by glass doors on both sides. They then entered a room at the far end, the only one with an oak door.

“First, I entered this room,” Kazuya said. “And then…” He froze.

It was a completely different room from the one before.

The wallpaper, which should have been an elegant brown, had changed to a gold one with garish patterns. The floor was covered with a crimson carpet, and the chandelier was not flower-shaped but ornamented with gold. The glass cases remained the same, but the decor was slightly different.

Inspector Blois turned to Kazuya with a look of distrust. “What happened to the brown walls, the checkered tiles, and the flower chandelier?”

“Th-This can’t be right!” Kazuya exclaimed. “I was just here an hour ago. And then I went to see you. I dropped a plate, a paperweight, a comb, and a bunch of other stuff, so I apologized to you. Right?”

Mr. Garnier shook his head gravely.

Kazuya was stunned. Then he pulled the inspector along the corridor. Mr. Garnier and his staff followed them, grinning.

“What is this all about?” the man asked.

Kazuya found the service elevator at the same spot. It was creepy, with a sour stench and reddish-black stains.

They got off at the first floor and walked down the eerie corridor illuminated by pale gas lamps. When Kazuya reached the area where the mannequins were stacked, he looked back at the inspector and opened the lid of a wooden crate.

“There was a girl in here,” he said. “She had sand-colored hair, and she said there were demons in here.”

Inspector Blois snorted. He shot Kazuya a dubious look and shook his head. “Oh, Kujou…”

Kazuya looked at the crate, and let out a despaired groan.

Inside was a figure curled up in a fetal position, its neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Wide-open dark eyes, looking up into the void. Sandy-colored hair.

A mannequin.

“No way!” Kazuya sank to the floor.

The vibration caused the crate to shake wildly, and the mannequin’s head snapped, rolling to Kazuya’s knees. The weight and the uncanny sensation made him scream.

Mr. Garnier held his belly and burst into laughter. The three young staff also joined him.

“Hahahaha!”

“Bwahahaha!”

“Hilarious! Ahahaha!”

Various emotions—frustration at being ridiculed, confusion—swirled inside Kazuya as he stared vacantly at their faces. The mannequin’s head was sitting on his lap.

Beside him, Inspector Blois looked appalled. “How could you mistake a mannequin for a person?”

“I-I didn’t,” Kazuya groaned.

Inspector Blois grabbed the mannequin by the hair, lifted its head, and stared at it. “Mass-produced products really lack that charm.” He tossed it aside.

The mannequin’s head rolled across the floor, bounced against the wall, and then stopped. Its wide-open eyes were directed upward.

No one tried to say anything.

Eventually, Mr. Garnier let out a sigh. “Are you done now?”

“Yes,” Inspector Blois said. “Apologies for the trouble.” He dragged the stunned Kazuya out of there.

Kazuya snapped back to his senses. “But I’m telling the truth! That room had brown walls and checkered tiles, and there was a real living girl in that crate!”

Mr. Garnier turned around. His amiable face flared with rage. “That’s enough! Any more insult to Jeantan, and I will have you arrested! Snap out of it already. You have never been in this department store! No one remembers you!”

“That’s impossible! I… I… definitely came to Jeantan!” Kazuya returned the man’s glare.

The inspector and the two officers dragged Kazuya out of the department store.

Just as they got outside, a familiar-looking coachman passed by with a passenger. On his face was a large scar running diagonally across from right to left. When he saw Kazuya, he quickly looked away. Kazuya whistled, but the man pretended not to hear him. Kazuya shook off Inspector Blois, jumped off the sidewalk, and stood in front of the carriage.

The horse neighed to a halt. The driver frowned, grumbling something.

Kazuya rushed to the man. “You picked me up earlier, didn’t you?” He turned to the dubious inspector. “Inspector! This guy is not a staff at Jeantan. He’ll vouch for me!” He turned his face back to the driver. “You gave me a ride earlier, right?”

The driver, puzzled, regarded Kazuya’s face, and nodded. Kazuya felt relieved.

“You picked me up after I came out of Jeantan and took me to the police station, didn’t you?”

The driver gave him a weird look. “What are you talking about?”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t pick you up here.”

“What?!”

Kazuya’s face twisted with distress.

The driver’s scarred face stretched into a bizarre smile. “I picked you up from Charles de Gilet station and dropped you off at the square in front of the royal palace. Did something happen to you?”