Shamazon looks around, and all he sees on this strange secret floor is the small room he is in and a door at the other end. Without much other option, Shamazon opens the door and looks through, finding another elevator much like the one he came out of. Shamazon replicates the maneuver he used to end up here, and when the doors open back up, he is on the normal second floor of the WCL building, and steps out, ignoring the events that just unfolded. Shamazon enters one of the unoccupied offices, and takes a seat.
Windsor ascends the stairs up to the throne room, and turns the "h" on the sign upside down, causing the door to lead to the Tyrone room instead. Inside of the Tyrone room is, of course, Tyrone.
"Mr. Tyrone, I have come to ask you a favor." Windsor says.
"No." says Tyrone before even hearing what Windsor has to ask. Sighing, Windsor leaves the room, turns the y back into an h, and enters the throne room.
"Mr. Diablo, it's been a pleasure doing business with you, but I must ask a favor of you."
"What might that be?" El Diablo responds.
"Even with all the money you have bestowed upon me, I lack a roof above my head."
"Can't you just buy one?"
"Not with a criminal record."
"I thought you said you worked with the law."
"That's not important here. I would just like to stay in one of the vacant office spaces here."
"I guess you DID help us out by letting us buy this place…fine. Pick whichever office you want."
Windsor bows gratefully and heads downstairs, occupying one of the offices near the entrance on the first floor.
After a long struggle, loss averter manages to free itself from the wall of the building Wall Woo threw it into. loss averter promptly returns to the sub-basement to harass the imprisoned Ryot Rion. Wall Woo tries to catch loss averter, but loss averter expertly dodges Wall Woo's grasp repeatedly.
"Alternate Crime Squad, assemble!" shouts not cool. The Alternate Crime Squad consists only of not cool, Gozastrum Wadley, and Dinomundo. Wadley only showed up because he heard people thinking about it, and felt kind of bad that not cool was having trouble getting any sort of traction with the World Crime League overshadowing him.
"Where's everybody else?" asks Wadley, glancing back and forth at his comrades.
"They'll show up soon." not cool asserts.
Meanwhile, a lamp in the corner of the throne room suddenly starts moving, shifting its form to resemble El Diablo's appearance prior to his death.
"Who are you?" asks the real El Diablo, as the imposter approaches him.
"I'm you from the past, here to warn you that an imposter is coming here to look for a job!"
"Why would me from the past know about something that would happen in the future, that I in the present wouldn't already know?"
"It's quite simple. I AM the imposter, and I'm here for a job." says the figure. "You may have heard of me before. I'm the master of disguise known as Hhid N."
"Yeah, it rings a bell, but I'll need proof that you're as good as you claim. For instance, sure, you can look like me, but if anyone asked you to use my Stand, what would you do?"
Hhid N. responds by bringing out Karma Chameleon, which currently resembles El Diablo's Stand, instead.
"I can't do abilities, but as long as I have a name, I can perfectly replicate the person and their Stand, if applicable. Go ahead, gimme another, gimme someone I shouldn't know about."
"How about Czuch SantaMaria? He's a guy who used to work for us, but passed relatively recently."
Hhid N. is able to oblige with ease, even having Karma Chameleon take the form of the Vengabus, albeit with some clipping into the walls due to its size.
"How about…that D'bito guy, he was in charge of the Order, nobody outside knew of him, I don't think." El Diablo says, and Hhid N. thinks for a while, but to El Diablo's surprise, he's able to replicate Dan and East Virginia.
"Well, your skill is definitely apparent, I think it's more than enough to warrant being hired."
"Come on, gimme one more." Hhid N. insists, and El Diablo thinks for a few moments.
"How about Hhid N.?"
"Whoa, whoa, no can do, that one's strictly off limits." Hhid N. shakes his head.
"Fine, that's fair. How about…" El Diablo thinks again, this time saying something he isn't even sure is actually someone's name. "...Yelts?"
Hhid N. takes a while with this one, but eventually takes the form of a large man in a parka, clearly frostbitten. Upon seeing him, El Diablo remembers seeing this man's picture in a newspaper article a while back that was talking about his death in the Grimalayas.
"Alright, you've proven your worth and then some. Go ahead, take whatever office you want. You're by far the most qualified person to show up so far."
Hhid N. smirks and heads down to the second floor, taking up residence next to Cybr's office, on the other side from where foul play's office is.
"If nobody else shows up in the next five moments, we're just gonna have to go find somewhere to do crime, the three of us." not cool declares. After four moments pass, Wadley speaks up.
"Have you ever thought that people don't like to publicly associate themselves with a criminal organization?"
"No, that's ridiculous." not cool asserts, and Dinomundo nods in agreement.
"So, what's the wealthiest establishment in the area? One we can try to rob or something?" not cool asks.
"From what I've seen, probably the WCL." Wadley states.
"Probably a bit early for us to try and take them down. Maybe we just ask them for an alliance instead." not cool decides, and the three pack up their things and cross the street to the painfully orange WCL building, letting themselves inside and heading up to the throne room.
"Wow, another applicant already? That was fast." El Diablo says, hearing the elevator doors open.
"We're not here to apply, we're-" Wadley starts to explain the situation, but as the elevator doors open all the way, Dinomundo and El Diablo meet eyes, and the former immediately lets out a howl of anger, stomping out of the elevator and charging towards El Diablo. El Diablo doesn't have time to bring out and use his Stand before he's tackled to the ground by Dinomundo. Wadley and not cool try to reel Dinomundo back a bit and calm him down, but he doesn't seem to care what they have to say.
"I BREAK YOUR MOUTH! Yo nunca formaría una alianza con los federales!" After saying this, Dinomundo snatches El Diablo's signature World Crime League fedora, and runs down the stairs to the second floor. He flips the conference table through the air, leaving it propped upright against a wall. He then slides down the crime pole to the first floor, before uprooting the crime pole in its entirety and putting it under his arm as he runs out the front door. El Diablo, not cool, and Gozastrum Wadley watch through a window as Dinomundo uses the crime pole to pole vault over a building, and then disappears from sight.
"You know what, maybe starting my own crime squad wasn't the best idea, can I just join you guys?" not cool states.
"Yeah, I don't see why not." El Diablo responds, still a bit shell-shocked.
"What about me? What if I don't want to take orders from anyone?" Wadley says.
"You don't have to join if you don't want to."
"Would you do anything if I were to walk out of here right now?"
"No. You're free to do that."
"Excellent." Wadley does as he said, marching straight out the front door, while not cool picks out his office, choosing one right next to Mugsy's office, also known as the kitchen. The smoke detector on the ground floor begins to beep due to the smoke coming from Bermuda's device, and Bermuda unplugs the clock, blowing on it a bit before observing it, and finding that four whole triangles have appeared on its surface, which is absolutely thrilling to Bermuda.
Mugsy and foul play are both hanging out in the kitchen. Mugsy is making his usual meatball recipe, and foul play is starting to get a bit sick of it.
"Why do you always make these meatballs, dude? Don't you ever get sick of it? Don't you ever wanna spice up your diet a bit?"
"No, not really. They're easy to make and they're tasty and that's all that matters."
"Do you eat all of these?"
"Yes. All the time."
"That's gross."
"You should try one."
"No thanks."
"Well then why don't you make something for yourself?"
"I'd rather not."
Mugsy shrugs, handing foul play a meatball just in case, which foul play reluctantly takes, biting into it while pouting. not cool smells the meatballs and walks in, happily helping himself to a whole bunch of the meat treats.