Chapter 416: Spider Surveillance Robots

William and Hannes talked until around midnight, finalizing the details of how to sabotage Valentine's factory after securing the contact codes of Thomas McGraw and the leader of the London bombings. 

Once the details were agreed upon, William asked, "How much funding will the sabotage operation require?"

Hannes, eyeing the backpack William had casually placed on the desk, smiled slyly. "If possible, I'd prefer the funding to come in the form of exclusive rights to sell your bulletproof suits—just two sets. It's much safer than cash or a bank transfer."

"Haha, no problem." William agreed without hesitation. Although his bulletproof suits sold for £5 million each, the manufacturing cost was now less than £50,000. If the sabotage of Valentine's factory succeeded, William had no issue granting Hannes the rights to sell the suits in Ireland.

Selling these suits wasn't easy without a deep network of connections. Even after a month, Catherine and Gareth, with their extensive networks, had only sold 150 units. The high price tag and the fact that most potential buyers didn't need level 4 protection (since they were surrounded by bodyguards) made it difficult to push sales. Level 3 protection, which could stop handgun rounds, was sufficient for most.

Of course, William wasn't about to lower the price, but in a year or so, he planned to launch a lower-tier suit with level 3 protection. He also expected sales to skyrocket once the Church began selling them in the USA.

William left a new model of the temperature-regulating bulletproof suit and vouchers for two additional suits with Hannes. He then took the whiskey Hannes had gifted him, hopped on his motorcycle, and left.

Arriving at a discreet location, William opened a portal and returned to the underground facility at his castle. "Sunday, investigate which shipping company handles Valentine's raw materials and locate the nearest ships and planes bound for Ireland."

"Understood, Sir."

As William sat in his chair, pondering how to direct the London extremists' attention to the ships and planes, he had an idea. "Create a few spider-shaped micro surveillance robots for me."

"Understood, Sir. Estimated completion time: 30 minutes."

While waiting, William took a shower and changed clothes. Once the ten tiny spider robots—each the size of a fingernail—were ready, he opened another portal and returned to his London estate.

Not wanting to disturb his mother or Abigail, William headed to the garage and drove to an apartment building near the Thames.

"Sir, Maggie entered this apartment after arriving in London. Two hours later, at 11 p.m., she went to a pub called Dunn Brothers. Camera footage shows she met with a journalist named Ian Wood."

"It looks like I need to move quickly. Notify Catherine and Gareth that I have something important to discuss with them. Tell them to meet me at the estate. And call Wilson as well."

"Understood, Sir. Messages have been sent."

William opened his car window, pulled out a box containing the spider robots, and tossed four of them into the bushes by the road. After waiting ten minutes, Sunday reported, "Sir, we've located the culprits. The robots are functioning normally. I've also identified their vehicles using nearby cameras. It would be wise to deploy three more robots."

William tossed three more spider robots, which quickly attached themselves to the underside of the suspects' two cars and one motorcycle.

Watching the monitor in his car, William smiled. "Looks like these spider robots are quite useful. Sunday, make ten more boxes of these, a hundred robots in total."

"Understood, Sir. Production order confirmed. However, I must remind you of something."

"What's that?" William asked, puzzled.

"With the manufacturing line running, power consumption at the castle is becoming an issue. I suggest constructing a small Arc Reactor beneath the estate."

"No way. I'm not building a reactor in my home. If something went wrong, the entire castle would be blown to pieces."

William immediately rejected the idea, then reconsidered. "The castle's horse stable is still under construction, right? Have the workers upgrade the power system to twice the usual capacity. That extra electricity should be enough for you, right?"

"Understood, Sir."

William drove back to his estate and found Wilson alone, sitting on the sofa, sipping whiskey. William glanced at the bottle and finally relaxed.

Seeing William, Wilson stood up and complained, "Hey, man, you called me over, but you weren't even here. Worse, you didn't notify your security. If it weren't for my recognizable face, your guards wouldn't have let me in."

"I don't have security guards. The front door was opened by Sunday." Noticing the Macallan 1967 bottle on the table, William chuckled to himself. Thankfully, Wilson didn't realize that the 1967 bottle, despite being aged, wasn't a particularly rare vintage, selling for around £4,000 and being easily available on the market.

Wilson followed William's gaze to the bottle and grinned. "Haha, you think I don't know my Macallan?"

"Don't forget who my father and grandfather are. With a butler teaching me about whiskey from a young age, of course I know that the 1969 bottle beside the 1967 is the real gem."

Wilson laughed as he continued, "That 1969 bottle is already in my car. Consider it compensation for disturbing me so late."

He poured a glass of whiskey for William and clinked glasses with a smile. "Thanks."

William rolled his eyes at Wilson but whispered to Sunday, "Order me a new liquor cabinet, one that's thief-proof. Next time Wilson visits, hide all the good stuff."

"Understood, Sir. The new cabinet will be installed tomorrow."

Seeing how William was treating him like a thief, Wilson complained, "Come on, man, it's just one bottle. No need to be so stingy."

"How about I give you six bottles of the 1967 in exchange for the 1969 you took?" William offered.

"No way!" Wilson shook his head vigorously. Even though six bottles were worth more in total, rare vintages like the 1969 were irreplaceable, and money couldn't buy them. 

"Alright, tell me what this is all about. It's already 2 a.m., and if I'm late getting home, my mother will blame me tomorrow."

"Interested in playing a role in a little scheme?"

"What?" Wilson blinked, then grinned mischievously. "Who are you plotting against this time? Is there something in it for me? If so, I'm in. I'll do more than act; I'll be your sidekick."

"I have no interest in making you my sidekick," William said after a few moments of thought. "Tomorrow's game will be intense, but the rewards are substantial—if you've got the guts for it."

Wilson perked up. "Wait, is there danger involved?"

"Not much. I promise you'll be fine."

"Then forget it. I don't want to deal with my parents' anger." Hearing the word "danger," Wilson quickly backed out, shaking his head.

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