"The taller a structure, the larger the foundations must be."

"They must be capable of dispersing the weight of the structure so that the weak soil beneath will not crumble under the weight."

"We love to build things up, higher and higher - adding story upon story to the world around us. And all too often we speak of limitations... as if they only exist within our minds."

"But limitations don't merely exist within our minds."

"We do fail."

"We will fall."

"We can't achieve everything and anything merely because we 'put our minds to it'."

"If we tried to build a tower so high that it would reach the heavens, then perhaps we would begin the construction of a tower."

"We would start with the foundations, and build it up and up, going higher and higher and gaining in confidence with each level that we added onto the previous one."

"And with this newfound confidence, we would tell ourselves that we could keep on building forever."

"However at some point, no matter how great our foundations are, no matter how deeply rooted they have been seated, they will fail."

"And at that moment, as this immensely tall tower comes crashing down upon us, we will come to a realization."

"That reaching for the stars and shooting for the heavens was nothing more than a fool's errand."

"It was an impossible task which could only ever drive a person to destruction."

-Part of a speech by Clarice - also known as the Determined - after her decimation of humanity in the world of Yolenos.

----

"However, do not allow my words to make you believe that everything is impossible."

"When a man looks at a task before him that seems insurmountable, such a man must run himself ragged, attempting every possibility before realizing that such a thing is impossible."

"Why is that?"

"It is quite simple. There are two types of people in this world - dreamers and realists."

"The dreamer has a false conception of reality. He believes that success can be achieved with little to no effort, and because he believes this, he believes that if effort is applied, that anything can be achieved."

"Imagine a rich man, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He inherits a company or a domain from his father, and the moment he inherits this he believes in his heart that such a thing was due to his own efforts."

"Yet there were no efforts to be made in the first place."

"How then, will this man proceed? He will become disillusioned, believing in his own competence, making decisions from on high while ignoring the struggles of those underneath him. He will write them off as incompetent, ignorant, weak minded people. He will be filled with the idea that any failure he encounters is due to the actions of others, and he will heave the blame onto such people without taking any responsibility for himself."

"Excuse after excuse will exit the man, yet all the while he will continue to dream. He will believe deep in his heart that anything he attempts will be successful, and he will in turn become all the more controlling as he blames failures on everyone but himself."

"When he sees another doing something one way, he will stop that person and tell them to do it his way. When he sees one who has disobeyed his orders, he will place that person on trial, publicly shaming them for having dared to go against his orders."

"Those who are competent will be forced to become incompetent, and everything around the man will begin to crumble - all because of his foolish dream that he clung to."

"That he himself was great."

-Part of a speech by Claire - also known as the Determined - after her decimation of humanity in the world of Yolenos.

----

To say that Marcus was confused would be quite the understatement.

Marcus, Sylvia, Bradley and George had thoroughly considered the best option concerning their infiltration of the 4th Branch of the Street Rats Organization.

"The hotel is a hierarchy. Each floor represents a different level of status. Those on the first floor are effectively slaves, people who have no rights of their own. They are locked in their rooms, and they aren't allowed to leave unless it is by the order of someone above them."

While the group had traveled, Bradley had gone into further detail to explain the hierarchy which the hotel worked under.

"They are given just enough food to appear healthy, though not much more. A single meal a day is all they're given. Luxuries are also kept to a minimum, but these things too only exist so that they can perform their work."

"Their work?"

Sylvia had turned to Bradley with a raised eyebrow, suspicious of the tone in which Bradley had uttered it.

"This is a prostitution ring, as you know. Their job is simple. To please clients. In whatever way they are ordered."

Marcus and George had stiffened up as Bradley said this, however Sylvia didn't appear to be shocked in any manner.

"At the very least, clients are not allowed to directly injure the residents of the first floor, because that would limit their profitability."

"And how would you know all of this?"

"Ah, I never told you? I appeared one time as a client to gain information. I tried all of the options that were available, though I didn't actually do anything with them. I merely talked to the girls that I was assigned before leaving after tipping them so that they wouldn't discuss what had happened inside. After all, in a place like that, what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom."

Sylvia seemed to be processing that information for a moment as she placed her hand to her mouth without any visual reaction.

"Does Three know?", she asked calmly.

[Do you think that something as ridiculous as jealousy would ever affect me? That's funny, Sylvia. When you merge with another, your thoughts and mindset become one. If Bradley had any intention of being disloyal, I would know in an instant. But even so, I have no qualms with such techniques if it's for the sake of gaining information.]

Taking over for just a moment, Three seemed to be ready for such a response, to which Sylvia nodded promptly.

"I see. So you're relatively logical as well. Most women who are obsessed with a man would become envious very easily, you know."

"Well, she did almost kill one of them-"

[Would you be quiet about that? She was all over you.]

As Bradley made this comment, Three interrupted quickly as if to prevent him from saying any more, at which Sylvia let out a snide chuckle.

"Heh..."

[...]

As if out of spite, the face of Bradley which had been transforming back and forth between that of the male and female remained in its feminine state as Three seemed intent on preventing Bradley from saying anything further.

"Are you going to stop him from giving me further information merely because he's embarrassed you? You experiments are a lot more human than I thought, to have such simple emotions."

[...]

A few more moments passed, but eventually the face gradually returned to its natural state as Bradley once more gained control.

"I know, I know. I get it. I get it, I'm sorry. Ah... now the Lady is mad at me. She's going off on me right now, you know. You didn't have to stir up the wasp nest."

"If she is stirred so easily then it's not my problem."

Motioning for the man to continue, Sylvia seemed to be completely disinterested with the troubles of the man - purely focused on the job at hand.

"Well, at any rate. The first floor residents are effectively wage slaves. They've entered a contract with the Hotel and they cannot break it for any reason. Usually these are people who fell into heavy debt and have been placed there in order to pay it off - though they won't do so until they've lost their use as a prostitute."

George seemed to be disturbed at the things that Bradley said, however it was a quiet disturbance - one which he seemed to have been resigned to.

"As you go up each floor, the positions and privileges of the residents would increase. Second floor residents are those who have made good profit for the Hotel and as such have been promoted. These women are allowed to leave their rooms at least, so long as they earn a specific amount of profit. They're also allowed three meals a day, and are given a budget for their own personal use."

"Hmm... so it's like a business. Those on the bottom are underpaid, barely scraping by, however they work towards middle and upper positions in the hopes of one day being able to do as they please.", Sylvia muttered.

"Well, it is a business. An illegal one, but still a business on the outside.", Bradley laughed. "But the most important thing about rising to the second floor is that they now have the right to refuse a client if they wish."

"Hm? So you're telling me that the women on the first floor don't have the right to do so?", Marcus asked with concern evident in his expression.

"Well of course. This isn't some game. If a client pays, no matter how filthy or rotten he may be, then the girls have to satisfy him. On the first floor, that is."

Closing his eyes as he took in a breath, Marcus seemed to come to a decision.

'I'm not going to go as far as to say that I'll become any sort of hero... but at the very least... that place should be destroyed.', he thought to himself.

Opening his eyes, the man looked at Bradley with a serious expression.

"Please continue.", he urged.

"As for the third floor, this is a floor that is very difficult for anyone to reach. The women on this floor don't actually exist for prostitution, but are more figureheads for the branch. Women of noble status who are able to use their positions for diplomacy, or those who are able to rope in particular figures of interest such as politicians or police chiefs."

"You can say that again."

George couldn't help but to spit out that comment as Bradley said the word "Police chief", clearly filled with displeasure at the notion.

"At any rate, these people are considered the successes of the 4th Branch, those who were able to escape their debt using whatever means and methods were available to them. They still aren't allowed to leave the hotel, but there are numerous luxuries and facilities inside, so they can live their lives as if they were nobles without any real restrictions."

"Hmm... so the difference between the first and third floors are really like night and day.", Sylvia noted. "It's almost like a Kingdom with peasants and nobles."

"But within every Kingdom, there are also those below even peasants. I may have said that the first floor residents were slaves, but at least the customers can't harm them."

Thinning his eyes, even Bradley became serious as he spoke his next words.

"But then there are the ones who get sent to the basement."

"Sent? As in, they've done something wrong to get there?", Marcus pressed.

"Exactly.", Bradley responded with a nod. "Even if someone is promoted to the third floor or higher, they can be demoted if they don't perform their role. Those on the third floor are always in competition with those below them to ensure that their positions aren't swept up from underneath them, so they have to be constantly making sure that their worth doesn't decline as an asset."

"So those who are in a higher position are expected to produce more results, while also being given more benefits and resources.", Marcus said with a nod. "This is quite the business."

"Yep. Well, my point is this - failure to produce results can cause you to be demoted. However, for those who go to the basement, there are only two types of people who are sent there."

At that moment, as if to finish off his statement, Sylvia spoke up.

"Rebels, and those who have been deemed as useless."

She spoke with certainty, as if she understood what the man was going to say before he had even said it.

"You do understand what it means to serve underneath a Dictator, don't you?"

"It's simple logic. Anyone who goes against the person in charge will of course be punished. On the other hand, people who have failed to produce any profits will be thrown away even if their loyalty is unwavering. After all - this basement is likely the one place where even the ugliest, most pitiful souls will somehow be able to turn a profit. Am I wrong?"

"It's as if you've been there yourself.", Bradley muttered with a grin. "But yes. This is the place where the real money is made. Certainly, all of the activities on the above floors can make a great deal of profits, however think about this. All of the activities on the above floors are at least mildly legal, being presented as a normal hotel. Even if the girls on the upper floors are bound to certain conditions that one might not consider legal, it's actually all completely acceptable by the law."

"What?"

Marcus looked to Bradley with shock, however George merely nodded.

"In this nation, so long as there is an appropriate contact, anything goes. We aren't able to pursue businesses for abuse of workers unless it is without agreement. This particular hotel and many other facilities run by mafia gangs perform their legal operations on the surface in order to mask the illegal ones beneath.", the former policeman noted.

"So the fact that the girls are in debt means that they are forced to sign a contract that they might not agree with, and they usually are led to believe that there is no legal way out. Of course, if they got the police involved before the contract was signed, then a shady deal would likely occur between the police and the mafia, and the girl would end up in a worse position - likely being sent to the basement level from the start.", Sylvia predicted.

"Yep. So basically, no matter which way they go they're screwed. As you might know, the more illegal something is, the more money there is to be made. A rich man with a particularly disturbing fetish would be willing to pay grand sums in order to fulfill it, after all. In the basement, those who have been thrown away are used as the playthings of such high paying customers. Criminals, psychopaths, madmen and the like. Injuring the customers and even killing them is allowed on this floor."

"This... is quite disturbing.", Marcus said with a gulp.

"That isn't the half of it.", Bradley stated. "It isn't limited to just abuse. This place was literally designed to achieve any sexual fantasy that the well paying customers could possibly request. Children, animals, corpses, it doesn't matter."

Folding his hands behind his back, the red haired man uttered his next words with repudiation evident in his tone.

"So long as the customer is paying the right price, the scenario can be created."

"And we're about to enter that ring of debauchery."

At that moment, a grin slowly drew itself across the face of Marcus.

Fixing the tie which he wore, the man seemed to glance at his watch - one which continued to tick even throughout this calamity.

"I suppose it's about time that we show these people the results of bad business practice. No?"

----

"Isabella. You said a while ago that you had to meet with the leaders of the other branches during the time that you served under your brother. You were presented as a person of importance, were you not?"

"I was considered to be like brother's daughter, in terms of my position. Even though he had no children himself, I was certainly his favorite among all the children who worked for him. He put me to many jobs, but diplomacy as his second in command was among them."

"So if he were to die, would you say that it wouldn't be strange if you were to inherit the third branch?"

"That wouldn't be unlikely at all. As a matter of fact, with my mother gone it seems to be almost a certainty. Brother didn't exactly trust any of the men that he had threatened with hostages or overtaken through other means, after all."

With these questions that Marcus posed to Isabella, a clearer picture came into his mind as the gears churned to form a plot.

"Then, if we were to look the part, would it not be possible that we could present you as a sort of princess - a young mistress who has taken over the branch upon the death of the leader?"

Voicing his thoughts, Marcus seemed to grin to himself as the ideas flowed.

"Could we not present ourselves as her faithful subordinates who stand at her side to protect her from this wasteland of the undead?"

"Oh... now this is interesting.", Bradley said with a smile. "So you're saying we could use her to infiltrate the 4th branch as if we were allies?"

"Exactly."

Thus, the plan was formed.

However, as Marcus understood well, plans don't always go as one might expect.

No matter how much one plots and plans, there will always be factors which are left out of the calculation.

And even the smallest factor could spiral into an unpredictable mess.

----

"Understood. Then... please come this way. A banquet has been prepared, as I had anticipated the arrival of some esteemed guests as yourselves."

This was the invitation given to the group after they had encountered the woman whose hair was as white as bleach.

She had stated their names, and had recanted the entire story that they had decided to go with.

'Was she spying on us when we discussed things earlier?'

The discussion had been hours earlier, when they were much further from the hotel.

It was hard to imagine that this woman would have been tailing them for so long - much less that Seven wouldn't notice such a person.

'It's almost as if... we've already spoken to her.'

The group followed the woman, each person filled with a strange suspicion at the knowledge which the woman had displayed.

'She hasn't immediately attacked us, which means one of two things. Either she hasn't deemed us to be an enemy yet, or she is leading us into a trap. The likelihood of the 2nd possibility is... high.'

How else was Marcus supposed to interpret this?

'But on the other hand, if she were merely leading us into a trap, why would she have brooded such blatant suspicion within us by sharing her knowledge of our ploy?'

By all logical means, it didn't make sense.

Marcus didn't understand the goal or position of this woman, and he needed more information to make any accurate deduction.

There was also the possibility that she was merely acting illogically, or that she was overconfident to the point where she had given up a possible information advantage.

But would she really do such a thing?

'For now, we should go along with this invitation. Seven, can you transfer this thought to Sylvia and Bradley? You should be able to do that, if I recall.'

[I haven't invaded Three's host. She would likely fry my cells if I had attempted to do such a thing. But I will let One's host know.]

Seven made this statement, at which Marcus was slightly surprised at how cooperative Seven was being.

"Sylvia. I think we should go along with whatever charade this woman is trying to play on us for now in order to obtain more information on them."

However Marcus immediately realized that asking Seven for anything was a mistake.

His eyes blackened as he had been taken over for just a second, Seven had spoken these words out loud for all to hear.

The entire group froze in shock, every single person looking to Marcus with horror and confusion as he had just spoken such incriminating words in front of the very woman who may very well have been his enemy.

"Charade... eh? I guess you figured it out."

With a slight laugh, the white haired woman turned around with a smile as she faced Marcus.

She approached him, her arms crossed as she looked the man up and down - his undead complexion having been hidden by some makeup which he had produced using his ability.

"If you all are members of that organization, then I guess someone like myself who plans on betraying it would be your enemy. Isn't that right?"

However, unexpectedly, the woman made a confession.

And at this confession, Marcus could hear the demented laughter of Number Seven from within him.

"I guess that's it for this loop. I'll try this again a little differently."

The woman seemed to shrug it off as if it didn't matter, nonchalantly walking around Marcus as if she truly cared about nothing.

"Wait just a minute."

Speaking up was Sylvia, who spoke with thinned eyes.

"Ah... you're going to say something? Well, I guess this reality won't remain, so I might as well gather as much information as I can for next time. What is it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I think you're misunderstanding something. No... I think we're all misunderstanding something."

Approaching the woman, Sylvia stared her down with a fierce glare - however the woman didn't seem to back down from such a glare for even a moment.

As if Sylvia wasn't a threat in the first place.

"You said that you planned on betraying the organization. Is that correct?"

"That's right."

"I can't understand you, no matter how hard I think."

Turning away, Sylvia folded her hands behind her back as she muttered out loud.

"You appear to legitimately believe that we are loyal members of the Street Rats Organization. But if you actually believed such a thing, there is no way you would have admitted your betrayal so easily. This might be another plot to get us to admit our facade, but the fact of the matter is that we never even made such a claim in the first place - you merely assumed such a thing. No... such an assumption would make no sense. Nothing seems to make any sense, so I'm going to stop things right here in order to obtain some answers."

Turning around, Sylvia spoke bluntly.

"You know that we're not actual members of the Street Rats Organization, correct?"

"Eh?"

"Eh?"

Eclaire first, then Sylvia - the white haired woman was confused at the statement of the businesswoman, at which Sylvia was confused by the confusion which Eclaire displayed.

"What is your game?", Sylvia pressed. "Why are you pretending like you know everything, but also like you don't know anything?"

"Ugh.... this is getting too annoying. Fine. Fine! If I explain everything, then you'll explain everything from your end as well, right?"

Suddenly, the girl's personality appeared to change, as if she had suddenly given up on the battle of information that she was waging.

It made absolutely no sense, however Sylvia didn't allow this opportunity to slip.

"Then please explain. Start with your name. We don't even know who you are."

"Ah... is that so? Well, you won't remember it anyways, so I'll have to give it to you again later. But I suppose for the sake of formality, I'll give it to you now."

With a light smile, the girl placed her hand to her chest as she introduced herself.

"My name is Eclaire Samantha Armstrong. I'm currently the spokesperson for the 4th Branch of the Street Rats Organization, and my job here is supposed to be to gather potential clients and employees among the survivors."

Lowering her tone, the woman's demeanor became deathly serious as she spoke.

"However, I hold a hidden ability. And I plan on using that ability to betray and murder the owner of this hotel"

----