"The deal is made."
Vesper smiled.
Eve couldn't read what lay behind that smile at all.
Unease coiled quietly in her chest.
But there was no time to worry about that now — not with the creature downstairs still waiting to be dealt with.
The wall sconces along the corridor brightened back to normal.
The faint chime from somewhere unseen had vanished completely, as though nothing had happened at all.
Only Eve knew that something had changed.
Between her and Vesper, there now existed a promise that couldn't be taken back.
"You can tell me now, right?"
Eve stared at him.
"How do we kill the Name-Taker?"
"I only agreed to tell you it’s weakness."
Vesper casually adjusted the wide sleeve of his kimono.
"Knowing its weakness doesn't mean you have what it takes to kill it."
Eve clenched her jaw.
This man had been playing with words from the very start.
Udon said coldly, "I told you not to trust him."
Vesper glanced at it.
"The deal's barely begun, and you're already trying to ruin my relationship with the new manager?"
"There's nothing between you and her."
"She just agreed to do one thing for me in the future, without conditions."
A faint smile played at Vesper's lips.
"Doesn't that count as a relationship?"
The fur along Udon's spine bristles slightly.
Eve cut in before Udon could lunge.
"What's the Name-Taker's weakness?"
Vesper didn't answer immediately.
His gaze passed over Eve and settled on Vera.
"How long has it been copying you?"
Caught off guard, Vera answered.
"I don't know exactly."
She lowered her eyes.
"At first, I only heard my own voice when I was alone. About half a year later, I saw its face for the first time."
"And even now, it still hasn't managed to replace you."
Vesper studied her thoughtfully.
"Then it isn't particularly clever."
Vera's expression darkened.
"It nearly killed me."
"Nearly. Which means it didn't."
Vesper said it lightly, as though it were nothing at all.
Name-Takers have no name of their own. No face of their own. No voice that truly belongs to them. If they want to exist among humans, they have to borrow all of those things from someone else.
Eve thought of the face downstairs, identical to Vera's.
"Hasn't it already succeeded, then?"
"Only on the surface."
Vesper lifted a finger and tapped lightly at his own cheek.
"A stolen skin. Nothing more."
"As long as the original owner is still alive, it will always be a counterfeit."
Vera asked quietly, "So it has to kill me?"
"That's right."
Vesper looked at her.
"Right now, all it has is a copied face."
"As long as you're alive, it can never truly become Vera."
"But the moment it kills you with its own hands, your name, your identity, and everything that belongs to your life — all of it becomes its own."
Vesper paused briefly.
"After that, even if someone saw it again, they'd simply think—"
"Vera was alive all along."
Vera's fingers curled slowly tighter.
Eve, replaying what had happened downstairs, suddenly frowned — no, her brow creased slightly, something not sitting right.
"Wait"
"That doesn't add up."
Vesper looked at her.
"What doesn't?"
"If it absolutely has to kill Vera, why didn't it just do it right away?"
The more Eve thought about it, the stranger it seemed.
"Vera was standing right outside the hotel. If it had already been following her, it could've killed her before she even came in, then taken her place and checked in as her."
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"That way, none of us would ever have known the person who walked in wasn't really her."
At most, the blame would have fallen on the manager — on her — for failing to recognize the guest and letting the wrong thing into the hotel.
But the Name-Taker hadn't done that.
After entering the lobby, it had gotten close to Vera — and kept talking to her the entire time.
It hadn't struck until much later.
A flicker of approval crossed Vesper's eyes.
"Because it hadn't been following her the whole way."
Eve blinked.
Vera said quietly, "After I stopped my heart in the morgue, it lost track of me for a very long time."
"Exactly."
Vesper looked at her.
"Your death cost it its target. Not until you stood outside the hotel doors and spoke your own name aloud did it hear your voice again."
Understanding dawned on Eve at once.
"So that was when it found her again?"
"By the time it arrived, she'd already entered the hotel."
A faint smile touched Vesper's lips.
"As for why it didn't strike immediately—"
He turned toward Vera.
"What did you say to it, when you first saw it?"
Vera tried hard to remember.
"I asked it... how it was here."
"And then?"
"I asked it whether the Long Night Hotel wasn't supposed to be safe."
"I'd already checked in — shouldn't that have meant I'd lost it?"
Her voice trailed off slowly.
As though something had just occurred to her.
Vesper said softly, "You thought it actually enjoyed reminiscing with you?"
"Every word it said wasn't spoken by choice."
Vera stared at him blankly.
"A Name-Taker cannot refuse a question asked directly by the person it's copying."
"If you're the one asking, it has no choice but to respond. And it cannot lie."
"It cannot lie."
Something clicked into place in Eve's mind.
If the Name-Taker couldn't lie to Vera, they could simply ask it how to kill it.
"Then all we have to do is ask it for its weakness—"
"It's not that simple."
Vesper cut her off.
"Not being able to lie doesn't mean it has to answer honestly."
Eve frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Vesper mimicked her tone. "How do I kill you?"
Then, his expression shifted, turning suddenly, deliberately innocent.
"Do you really think I'd be foolish enough to hand you my own weakness?"
Eve paused.
"That counts as an answer?"
"Of course."
"It didn't lie. And it didn't refuse to respond."
"A Name-Taker is very good with words. It can mock, deflect, answer a question with another question — as long as nothing it says is technically a lie, it hasn't broken the rule."
The hope that had just started rising in Eve sank right back down.
"Then what use is this weakness?"
"While it's answering a question, it can't move."
Vesper said quietly.
Eve's head snapped up.
"It can't move?"
"From the moment it begins to respond until it finishes answering, it has to stay exactly where it is."
"So the question itself doesn't matter."
Vesper's gaze moved slowly between Eve and Vera.
"What matters is how long you can keep it talking."
Eve replayed the scene in her head.
Every time Vera had asked a question, the Name-Taker had stopped to answer.
And the moment Vera fell silent—
it had lunged.
Understanding clicked quickly into place.
Vera would ask the questions.
As long as it kept speaking, it couldn't move.
They could use that brief window to attack it.
But—
Eve remembered smashing the planter against the creature's arm.
The twisted limb had snapped back into place in an instant.
"Ordinary attacks don't work on it."
"So you've already tested that yourself."
Admiration flickered in Vesper's eyes.
"How brave of you."
"Don't be sarcastic."
Eve suppressed her irritation.
"Even if we can make it stop moving, we still can't hurt it."
"Didn't you just come out of Room 707?"
Vesper glanced toward the closed door.
"What you need is in there."
Eve turned to look at Room 707.
The strange, misshapen weapons on the wall surfaced in her mind again.
"Which one?"
"That's a second question."
Vesper reminded her, smiling.
"Our deal only covered the Name-Taker's weakness."
Eve stared at him, incredulous.
"You—"
"But I'm in a good mood today."
Vesper added, unhurried.
"I'll give you one hint, free of charge."
He unfolded the black folded fan in his hand, fanning it slowly a few times.
His silver-white hair stirred gently in the small breeze it made.
"The most dangerous thing in Room 707 happens to look exactly like water."
The image of that clear glass jar surfaced immediately in Eve's mind.
The liquid inside, colorless, transparent.
No label.
Just a single black symbol on the glass that she couldn't read.
She'd been about to pick it up, before Udon stopped her.
"That clear liquid?"
Vesper didn't answer.
He only looked at her and smiled.
Udon stared at the door to Room 707, his palm green eyes narrowing slightly.
As though something had only just come back to it.
"Wait..."
Udon murmured.
"I've seen that black symbol before."
"I've seen that black symbol before."
Eve turned to him at once.
"So you know what it is?"
Udon's expression grew steadily more serious.
"There are too many dangerous things in 707. All I knew was not to let you touch it carelessly — I didn't actually recognize what it was."
"And now you remember?"
Udon was quiet for a moment and it look at Eve.
"It's a corrosive."
"It can dissolve any skin that doesn't truly belong to its wearer."
"If a Name-Taker comes into contact with that liquid, whatever appearance it's copied will start to dissolve."
Vesper let out a soft laugh beside them.
"To put it simply—"
"It washes away the face a Name-Taker stole."
Vera instinctively touched her own face.
"Wash off?"
"A Name-Taker's body has no fixed form of its own."
Vesper said.
"The skin, the features, the hair you're seeing right now — all of it was copied from you."
"That liquid corrodes any shape that doesn't truly belong to the one wearing it."
Understanding settled slowly over Eve.
"So if we throw it on its face..."
"The stolen skin would dissolve away."
"Can it just take the shape back afterward?"
Vera asked, anxious.
"If it had already fully taken your name — yes, of course."
Vesper looked at her.
"Fortunately for you, it hasn't."
"Once a Name-Taker selects a target, it can't switch to a different one until it completes the process. When the face it's borrowed is destroyed beyond recovery, and it can't reclaim an identity from the original owner, it loses whatever was anchoring it to this world."
"And then?"
"It disappears."
Vesper answered lightly.
As though discussing something utterly trivial.
Eve looked toward Room 707.
Now, they had something that could actually hurt the Name-Taker.
And they knew how to make it stop moving.
The only problem left—
was getting close enough to use it.
Back at the door to Room 707, Eve stepped aside and looked at Udon.
A soft sound came from inside.
Click.
The lock opened again.
Vesper stood in the corridor, watching him with interest.
"Still remember how to get in."
"He never revoked my access." Udon answered coldly.
"Or he simply couldn't be bothered to keep you out."
Eve ignored them both, pushing the door open and stepping quickly inside.
The clear glass jar still sat exactly where it had been. It was no bigger than her palm.
The liquid inside was so clear, so free of any impurity, it looked exactly like ordinary water.
Eve didn't touch it with her bare hands.
She picked up a thick cloth from the table first, wrapping it around the jar before lifting it carefully.
"Is this enough?"
She asked Udon.
"As long as you don't break it."
Udon eyed the jar.
"And don't let it touch your skin."
"Doesn't it only dissolve shapes that don't belong to something?"
"Want to test that yourself?"
"...No thanks."
Eve tightened her grip on the jar.
Vera stood at the door, watching the liquid in her hands.
Her eyes held both hope and fear, tangled together.
"Can it really kill it?"
Eve didn't answer right away.
She didn't actually know.
Everything they had was information Vesper had chosen to give them.
And that man — impossible to call an outright liar, yet somehow impossible to fully trust either.
Eve walked out of Room 707.
Vesper still leaned in the same spot as before.
"What if this doesn't work?"
Eve asked.
"Then you'll probably die."
Vesper said, smiling.
"But don't worry."
"Before you've done that favor for me, I'd rather not let you die."
The words brought her no comfort at all.
Eve tucked the glass jar into her coat pocket.
"Let's go."
The three of them headed toward the elevator.
Vesper didn't follow.
Eve took a few steps, then stopped.
"You're not helping?"
"That wasn't part of the deal."
"If the Name-Taker isn't dealt with by eight, it'll be able to come up to the seventh floor too."
"And?
Vesper drawled.
"It wouldn't dare imitate me."
Eve looked at him.
"Why not?"
Vesper only lifted a finger and pressed it lightly to his lips.
"That's a third question."
Eve didn't bother pressing further. She turned and walked into the elevator.
Vera and Udon followed her in.
The doors slid slowly shut.
Just before the last sliver of the corridor disappeared, Eve caught one last glimpse of Vesper, still standing there.
His silver-white hair falling over the deep crimson of his kimono.
A beautiful, unreadable smile on his face.
"Do try to come back alive."
The elevator doors closed completely.