"Six? I don't know when we decided to label one another--"
While he took note of her name, Orwell didn't much care whatever she called herself. The less everyone knew, the better, and she was giving information away for free. Then again, she was just a teenager. Two more of them were, and both of them looked just as - if not more - unstable than Somi did. Whatever the case, Orwell had already walked away as she continued her tirade. Did she really want to risk being the first one to experience the King's punishment? By all means, she was welcome to. At least that would answer a few questions.
The door did open to the key he was given, and as he activated the light switch, it revealed something like a kitchen. The sound of the dumbwaiter made him look back, and doing so, he realized that Five had decided to follow him, but then went back to read whatever it was on the card that Somi had just taken from the dumbwaiter.
"Player #3, rip out all of Player #4's eyelashes. Player #6, consume the blood, tooth, nail, and lashes."
Whoever the King was, he had a sick mind, Orwell decided. The order was almost surreal in its violence - who in their right minds would get a kick out of watching someone eat eyelashes? He thought of people like Corvus and wondered if this was all a part of their plan to get back at him. It wasn't impossible. Money could buy anything, even amusement like this. Perhaps they were being filmed for a snuff production, commissioned by rich bastards. Nothing was out of the question.
He stepped into the room, quickly followed by Three and Four. Three's presence irked Orwell and he wished the King would order someone to shut him - he was about eighty percent certain that Three was a him - up. He listened as his eyes roved around the room, looking for answers, or at least clues to answers. The dining table was covered with several sheets of paper - receipts, upon closer inspection, and he went over to read them silently as both Three and Four -who now identified as Ryan Watts- bickered about the details on how to fulfill the newest order. His head started to ache given the fumes from whatever was in the sink, and he started breathing slowly in an attept to take in less of the fumes.
Several details in each receipt were blacked out with a marker, and try as he might, Orwell could not read any of the hidden information even as he held them up against the light. Giving up on that attempt, he continued to read the information that remained unhidden.
There was a veterinary bill, a receipt for repairs done to a funeral home - Four identified himself as a mortician, clearly a link to him -, a medical bill for a boy with the surname Cruz - his eyes narrowed upon seeing this, but he set it aside for now -, a receipt for industrial strength cleaning supplies - a highly suspicious purchase, given the bleak context they were in -, a college tuition bill - not surprising, given the age of the people involved -, as well as two payments. One payment was addressed to Somi Baek - Six, apparently did use her real first name and now her identity was fully revealed -, and the other payment involved Three - apparently the Velskaya family was an affluent one.
Here were some clues, but they only led to more questions than answers. There were exactly seven receipts, and it would be a fair guess to say that each receipt had something to do with each player. Six and Three, Somi and Riley, were possibly linked to something shady involving an exchange of money, while Four, Ryan, was linked to a funeral home, perhaps as someone linked to the mob to hide bodies. Strangely enough, Orwell did not have the same receipt of payments - a testament to how careful Corvus was, perhaps, only paying him in cold, hard, untraceable cash.
The only receipt that could possibly be linked to him was the medical bill, and then again, perhaps it was a bluff. Iris wouldn't be stupid enough to keep their kid, would she? After all, she wasn't ready for that kind of responsibility - hell, she couldn't even take care of herself after ladies' night. As far as Orwell was concerned, that kid didn't exist, and if he did, he was on his own. He took the medical bill, folded it, and kept it in his pocket, leaving the rest of the receipts on the table. Then he turned to Riley and Ryan, who were still undecided about the order.
"The order said to rip your lashes out, Ryan. That's what the order said, and it's not as bad as losing a tooth or a nail. It's your call to make. I think you're risking your neck for nothing. And maybe you're not the only one who gets punished by your mistake - what about Thr- ah, Riley and Somi?"
Orwell picked out two receipts and held it towards them.
"Funeral home maintenance bills and some kind of big transfer to the Velskaya Corporation. Sounds like you two might know something about this. I found mine too, and Somi's. This King sure did some research before he went after us, didn't he."