Chapter 468: Digging Out the Foundations

William and Carlos chatted casually until dinner time, after which they shared a meal. In high spirits, Carlos dragged William to the shooting range, insisting on teaching him the art of curve shooting. Of course, William was more than happy to learn.

Carlos seriously explained the key points for over an hour, and with William's physical abilities now more than ten times that of an ordinary person, he managed to shoot curve bullets after only about ten attempts.

Carlos was stunned by how quickly William picked up the technique but didn't ask too many questions. Instead, he patiently continued explaining the finer points William needed to pay attention to.

After William fired three consecutive curve bullets, all hitting the bullseye of a 50-meter target, Carlos immediately stopped him. "That's enough for today. If you keep practicing, you'll damage your arm."

He grabbed William's right arm to check, surprised. "Hmm? Your arm's fine?"

"No problem, just a bit sore," William replied, shaking his slightly fatigued arm. After clenching and releasing his fist three times, feeling that his wrist was indeed fine, he nodded confidently. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Well, your physical strength is truly extraordinary," Carlos said with a smile. "Normally, even for an experienced shooter like me, I can fire three shots in a row before risking arm damage. If I space the shots out, I can handle ten, but after that, my arm would give out. I can't believe a beginner like you fired so many shots and you're completely fine."

"Haha, who am I? I'm William Devonshire."

William knew very well why his physical abilities were so strong, but that was a secret he wouldn't share with anyone—not even his mother, let alone Carlos.

After returning the guns to the armory, the two didn't head back to the castle right away. Instead, they strolled through the castle gardens in the night air.

After walking for about ten minutes, Carlos finally spoke up. "Now, are you going to tell me why you called me over?"

William thought for a moment before replying, "A guy named Amir Bakawi tried to mess with me twice recently. Luckily, I've got some friends, and before Bakawi could act, I was tipped off. The people he sent were quietly taken care of by my men.

Since he tried to kill me, I won't just sit and wait. I want you to go to the desert, lie in wait, and when I track down Bakawi, take him out."

"No problem. As long as I know where he is, long-distance sniping won't be an issue for me," Carlos agreed without hesitation.

"Thanks," William smiled gratefully, then asked, "Do you need me to help transport your equipment to the desert?"

"No need. It's a small matter; I'll head to Dubai and wait there."

"Alright. I'll have a private jet and a helicopter ready for you in Dubai, along with a car so you can move quickly as soon as we have the location."

"That sounds perfect," Carlos nodded. "I'll head out tonight to avoid any unexpected developments."

"No rush. You should rest for the night," William said, showing concern.

"No need. I slept the whole flight from New York. Besides, the sooner I get there, the sooner I can get my equipment ready in case something happens."

"Alright," William said, pressing his hand to his ear to speak to Sunday. "Book a private jet to Dubai."

"Understood, sir," Sunday replied, and within ten seconds confirmed that the plane was ready.

William smiled at Carlos. "The plane's ready. As for your hotel in Dubai, I won't book it for you—you'll probably want to scout it out yourself."

"Of course," Carlos agreed. "I prefer staying in places without too many surveillance cameras or in private residences. Alright, I'll head to the airport. Stay in touch if anything comes up."

After seeing Carlos off, William contacted his team of Expendables, who had already arrived in London, instructing them to keep an eye on the antiques he had stored at the Bank of England, just in case Bakawi's group targeted his wealth.

Once everything was in place, several days passed. As William grew impatient waiting for a response from the French bank, Pierre, the old banker, finally got back to him.

The news wasn't great. While the French bank had voted to approve William's proposal, many officials were against selling Château de Chantilly or allowing the bank to sell shares to William.

"Perhaps we could first proceed with the transaction for Château de Chantilly," Pierre suggested cautiously.

"How much?" William asked, frowning. "Let me warn you, Pierre—think carefully before you answer. If neither the bank share purchase nor the Château deal goes through, I'll immediately pull my $5 billion out of your bank. And I'll be watching your stock price closely. If some people don't like me taking a peaceful approach to joining your bank, I'll show them that I can take what I want by force."

Damn it, Pierre cursed silently from his office in Paris. He was furious with the politicians who used to treat the French bank with respect but were now kicking it while it was down. Yet he didn't dare show his frustration to William. "Mr. Devonshire, we need at least $3.5 billion, so…"

Pierre didn't finish the sentence, but William understood perfectly. He sneered. "Alright, $3.5 billion it is. My legal team will be in Paris tomorrow to discuss the contract. Goodbye, Mr. Pierre."

William hung up the phone and quietly thought about how to get his revenge.

He was definitely going to buy Château de Chantilly, even if it cost $4 billion. His frustration stemmed from missing out on a bargain with the French bank.

But if he lost out on this deal, he could always make up for it elsewhere. Once the Château deal was finalized, William would make sure to stomp on the French bank's stock. Pierre, the old fox, probably understood this, too, because just a few minutes later, he called William again.

As soon as the call connected, Pierre apologized. "I'm truly sorry, Mr. Devonshire. The bank had no intention of breaking the agreement. On the contrary, we very much hope for your involvement. Unfortunately, the opposition party has been stirring things up. This morning, the president himself met with us to discuss possible solutions. If you're really serious about investing in our bank, you'll need patience, compromise, and wisdom. Otherwise, no one will welcome someone who breaks down their door by force, uninvited, into their home."

"Haha," William laughed. Pierre had put it diplomatically, but it made William feel a bit embarrassed. His tactics in the stock market weren't just about breaking down doors—sometimes he dug up the very foundations of the house. 

"Let's sign the contract for Château de Chantilly first. After that, we might become friends. But it all depends on how you handle things."

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