D2G stares in disappointment out through the General Albert shaped hole in his wall.
"Ah damn, I thought I was done with this kind of nonsense." D2G sighs. Outside, Ownerbone, who had returned to the area to clean up the mess he made exploding out of the trash can, takes interest in D2G, and peers at him through the hole. D2G shields his eyes to avoid looking directly at Ownerbone too much, and Ownerbone uses his Stand, Watermark, the same Stand that allows him to claim things as his own with stickers, to view D2G's ownership history. Ownerbone is able to see D2G's former WCL affiliation through Cybr, but otherwise finds that D2G is currently unemployed, and thus unowned. Ownerbone enters D2G's home uninvited, and leans over D2G to ask him a question.
"Who's this 'WCL'? I can see that you've had an interesting history with them." Ownerbone asks.
"Oh, them? Just a bunch of criminals, supposedly. I try to stay out of their business, I just owed one of their guys a favor so I had to work with them relatively recently."
"Hm. I see." Ownerbone swiftly and sneakily slaps a sticker on D2G's helmet, before slinking out through the hole in the wall. Ownerbone finishes cleaning up the trash can mess, and then heads to the Pole Ice Department to pick up something of his. Upon arriving at the building, Ownerbone approaches the front desk and rings the doorbell. Longarm Law's long arm stretches all the way from his office, before resting on the front desk and pulling the rest of his body over to the desk.
"I need to look in your lost and found." Ownerbone requests.
"Sure thing buddy, it's in that locker over there." Longarm Law points with his less long arm, and Ownerbone opens the locker, rummaging through its contents for an unreasonably long time before procuring Cledit Card's chromebook, which rightfully belongs to Ownerbone now that Cledit Card is dead, since Ownerbone had previously owned Cledit Card. Ownerbone unrings the doorbell on his way out, and Longarm Law slinks back to his office. Ownerbone takes a seat in the Beaten Meat to perform research on this newly acquired chromebook, ordering two balone and a water, which Beatsmith nervously provides, not wanting to interact with Ownerbone more than necessary. As he indulges in delicious balone, Ownerbone google searches "WCL", and finds the World Crime League's website, which has been made eyebleedingly beautiful through Adzaster's efforts. Ownerbone is able to read up on a surprising amount of information that probably shouldn't be so easily accessible regarding this criminal organization. One such piece of information happens to be the current address of the WCL, and after watching a few Minecraft videos and finishing up his meal, Ownerbone packs up the chromebook and sets out to visit this address.
Upon arriving at the location, Ownerbone walks into the WCL's lobby, where he is confronted by the proposition, which waddles out of its office to investigate the newcomer.
"What can you tell me about your workplace?" Ownerbone asks the proposition. The proposition responds by making a bizarre noise Ownerbone has never heard before, and then squatting three and a half times. Ownerbone nods in understanding, and decides he'll have to up his interviewing game if he wants to get any substantial information about this place. Ownerbone marches straight into the elevator, while not cool gives him a not nice look. Ownerbone takes the elevator straight to the throne room, and walks up to El Diablo, pausing to read through El Diablo's ownership history, which includes mentions of both the Order and Cybr, due to Cybr technically being the owner of the computer that he used to bring back El Diablo. Ownerbone takes a mental note, and then begins speaking.
"So tell me, what kind of crimes do you do here?"
"Eh? Who are you? Do you want to work here?" El Diablo responds in confusion.
"No, I'm just asking. Some friendly chit-chat never hurt anyone."
"Well, you know. Standard crime stuff. Robberies, uh…okay it's really mostly robberies, I guess. We usually don't do any assassinations or anything, unless it's in self defense."
"How does one assassinate in self defense?"
"Well, there's this…rival organization, so to speak. They have some beef with us, and they've been sending goons to try and kill us every now and then. Mostly unsuccessful."
"I see. That seems a tad silly, if you ask me, but I suppose it's not my business."
"Is that all you came here to ask?"
"No, but I guess you've probably told me all I need to hear from you in particular. I'll go hit up the rest of your squad." Ownerbone stands up and takes the elevator to the roof. Seeing nobody on the rooftop, Ownerbone walks over to one of the edges and stares out over the city wistfully, wind blowing through the air as a slight drizzle begins to come down from the sky.
"Wonderful weather, eh, Ownerbone?" says Ownerbone to himself, chuckling. "Yes, yes indeed."
The scene dramatically fixates on the swimming pool as Ownerbone heads back into the elevator, taking it all the way down to the basement. Ownerbone spots the advertising room, but the door is firmly locked, so Ownerbone is forced to just press his skull against it to hear noises from inside. After hearing nothing but advertisement noises, Ownerbone decides this floor has nothing to offer for his investigation, so he heads back into the elevator. In attempting to reach the second floor, though, Ownerbone finds himself accidentally maneuvering the elevator to access the secret floor, instead. Ownerbone quickly decides that this place gives him a bad feeling, so he leaves back through the elevator, arriving on the second floor proper. Ownerbone spots Shamazon in his office, and enters, since Shamazon leaving the door unlocked might as well be an invitation in Ownerbone's eyes. Ownerbone loudly scoots a chair out and sits in it backwards to face Shamazon, tapping the former jungle protector on his shoulder to get his attention.
"Hey, you work here, right?" Ownerbone asks, already knowing the answer full well, but wanting to not sound suspicious.
"Well, yeah. I kinda lost my old job, somehow." Shamazon says. "I guess working here is better than nothing."
"Why don't you tell me about that old job of yours?"
"Oh, it was great. Those were my glory days." Shamazon stands up, striking a dramatic hero pose. "Shamazon, discoverer and protector of the Shamazon Painforest! Fabled hero of the jungle, undefeated, unforgiving, indestructible!"
"And you lost your job, how, exactly?"
"Mutiny." Shamazon grumbles.
"Say, do you know anything about an organization called…" Ownerbone lowers his voice for dramatic effect. "...The Order?"
"Well, yes, I guess I do know about them. I was just on a mission to execute one of their members on this organization's behalf." Shamazon raises an eyebrow, now clearly taking some interest in what Ownerbone has to say.
"Were you aware that your boss here formerly worked for them? I have some insider information that tells me about places that people used to work. I know you used to work for some tyrant, and then after that, at some point, you were working for Taco Bell."
Shamazon gasps, both at the revelation that El Diablo worked for the Order at some point, and at the revelation that somebody somehow found out about his secret Taco Bell job. Shamazon starts to get up, but Ownerbone holds his shoulder down to keep him calm.
"Don't get hasty here, we have much more to discuss. Do you know anything about a guy named 'Cybr'? I seem to keep running into that name."
"I've had a few interactions with him, I guess. He doesn't seem too out of the ordinary, probably just some sort of company representative that has his name on a lot of things, if I had to guess."
"I see. Does he work in this building?"
"Yeah, I believe he does. One of the offices on this floor is his, I think."
Ownerbone nods and leaves, while Shamazon stares at a photograph of Ignis, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Ownerbone locates the only locked door on the entire floor, and listens against it. Inside of the room, Cybr is reading the letter he received aloud.
"Congratulations on being the eighty ninth customer at Special Ed's in EsMachinaburg! As a prize, you have received a free helicopter! Please confirm your address so that we may deliver the product." Cybr reads in a monotone voice. Ownerbone steps away from the door, finding what he just heard so remarkably uninteresting that he loses all desire to continue his investigation, and simply exits the premises altogether.