Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet

"Tell me, what exactly do you want from me? I don't believe you'd rush here in person for something that could be handled with a phone call," William said.

Yuri chuckled. "Well, you probably have some idea of how the market is these days. For someone like me, who only sells legitimate light weapons, business has become increasingly difficult. If it weren't for your large purchases this year, my sales might not even reach a quarter of last year's. So, I'm hoping to secure the rights to sell some of your bulletproof suits and bomb-detection watches."

"Hmm, I can give you a spot for the detector sales. It'll cost you one million pounds per unit. As for how much you can sell, that's up to you. Any objections?"

"No, no objections," Yuri replied, clearly thrilled. "How many can I take in my first order, Mr. Devonshire?"

"As many as you can afford. Even if you want a hundred watches, it won't be a problem," William laughed.

With four production lines in his castle, William could manufacture 24 watches per hour. Each watch's raw material cost only 2,000 pounds, and he had already test-produced 300 watches.

Without hesitation, Yuri said, "Then I'll take one hundred."

"Impressive, mate. I didn't expect you to come up with 100 million pounds in cash. I thought you'd be satisfied with just 20. Seems like you've got quite the stash hidden away."

Yuri chuckled. "You know how it is for people like me. Some departments keep a close eye on us, and keeping too much in the bank means taxes, so it's only natural I keep more cash on hand."

"No problem, as long as it's in dollars or pounds, I'll take it. I'll have the goods delivered to you, and you can send the cash to the Continental Hotel in New York. Deal?"

Yuri, elated, stood up. "No problem at all, doing business in New York is perfect. Thank you, Mr. Devonshire."

After agreeing on the delivery details, the two had lunch together and then parted ways. Back in his office, William instructed Sunday, "Send a hundred bomb-detection watches to Yuri's home. Also, have Barney, Christmas, and Yin-Yang secretly guard my mother. Notify White Ghost to keep an eye on her surroundings and report anything suspicious to me. If there's any danger, eliminate it immediately."

"Understood, SIR. The orders have been issued."

Leaning back in his chair, William contemplated for a moment. "Sunday, is it possible to create a flying aircraft carrier for the Black Blade drones? One that can carry twelve drones, provide recharging and signal enhancement, and even reload ammunition later on?"

"Calculating," Sunday responded. Ten minutes later, it added, "SIR, please activate the virtual display on your phone."

William placed his phone on the desk, and soon, a virtual image of a disc-shaped aircraft appeared. "SIR, a saucer-like design would allow for more efficient deployment and retrieval of the drones. It comes equipped with high-energy batteries, providing 48 days of flight time. If there's ample sunlight, solar panels on the top can extend the flight time to 96 hours. When on standby, it takes two hours to fully recharge, and solar recharging while hovering would take six hours."

"Alright, go ahead and produce one for testing. If it works well, we'll make more."

"Understood, SIR. The first unit will be ready in five hours."

After finishing his conversation with Sunday, William leaned back in his chair and drifted off, waiting for a call from Catherine.

At 3:30 in the afternoon, the ringing of his phone woke William. He answered and immediately heard Catherine's excited voice. "Good afternoon, William."

"Afternoon, Catherine. From the sound of your voice, it seems like good news," William replied with a smile.

"Indeed, it is! Haha, James firmly rejected Valentine Group's request, citing labor disputes and unrest at their factory in Ireland. He refused to sell them special raw materials, fearing they might fall into the hands of hostile organizations."

William grinned. "It sounds noble, but it's really just about not wanting a massive factory in Ireland paying billions in taxes every year. Now that the opportunity has landed in his lap, James wouldn't miss the chance to kick Valentine while he's down."

"Haha, exactly! You get it, no need to say it out loud," Catherine laughed. "So, do we take advantage of the situation and short Valentine Group's stock again?"

"No, dear Catherine," William said, his tone turning serious. "If you do that, you'll be asking for trouble."

"Why? This is a golden opportunity! Even though more people are aware of it now, and the profits won't be as high as before, this is still a sure win," Catherine said urgently.

William sneered. "That's precisely why you shouldn't act. Everyone knows Valentine's stock will drop, but do you think Valentine himself is clueless? If you make a move without knowing what cards he has up his sleeve, you're not making money—you're handing it to him. Remember, shorting the stock now is extremely risky. I'll let you know when it's time to act."

"Alright, I trust your judgment. I'll hold off for now. Talk later, William," Catherine replied. After considering William's track record in finance, she decided to follow his advice and stay put.

"Sunday, has Valentine sped up his plans?" William asked after the call.

"Yes, SIR. Based on the information I've intercepted, your strike on the Irish factory hit Valentine right where it hurts. His original plan was to release the free communication and internet service once he'd produced 1 billion of his mind-controlling chips. But with the shortage of raw materials and one of his two factories completely shut down, coupled with the expected stock price drop, Valentine has been forced to accelerate his timeline to boost stockholder confidence. Otherwise, he might not have the funds or justification to produce the chips."

"Ha! That's exactly what I wanted—to throw off his entire plan. Otherwise, if Valentine the madman teamed up with another madman, and they recruited more madmen along the way, who knows how many world leaders, scientists, and billionaires he could control? Taking him down later would be a nightmare."

"SIR, I've just received word that Valentine has sent out invitations to 10 Downing Street, as well as to several wealthy individuals, scientists, and celebrities, for a banquet at his home tomorrow evening at 7 p.m."

"Hah, this lunatic is planning to take control of James," William mused, then said, "Get me an invitation to the banquet."

"Well…," Sunday hesitated, which was rare.

"What do you mean, 'well'? Isn't getting an invitation an easy task for you?" William asked, puzzled.

"Apologies, SIR. You may have forgotten, but during your last visit to New York, you insulted Valentine by calling him irrelevant. As a result, you're on his list of most unwelcome guests. If I try to get you an invitation, it could reveal the tampering we've done with his servers."

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