Billionaire in Kingsman with a Marvel System

During lunch, it was just William and Craig. Lena had gone to Oxford University to discuss reinstating the Devonshire Literary Scholarship with the administration. The scholarship had been discontinued for two generations after his great-grandfather's passing, and part of the castle walls had been dismantled by Oxford University to build dormitories, so William wasn't particularly interested in this matter.

However, after realizing she no longer had to worry about money, Lena wanted to restore the Devonshire family's reputation in Oxfordshire. Thus, she revived this family tradition that had been dormant for two generations. To make his mother happy, William didn't object to spending a little money—after all, it was just a literary scholarship, not something related to high technology or military industry.

Sixty years ago, the Devonshire family would donate 2,000 pounds a year to the Faculty of Letters. Now, at William's urging, Lena had gone to Oxford with a check for 1 million pounds, happily prepared to discuss the scholarship. Around 11 a.m., she called William to say she wouldn't be home for lunch, as the dean of Oxford's Faculty of Letters and several other deans were hosting a small luncheon to express their gratitude for the Devonshire family's generosity.

"They're really trying to milk it," William thought. They must have taken Lena for a fool. The 1 million pounds donation had only been agreed upon after William persuaded Lena; she originally planned to donate just 200,000 pounds.

During lunch, William noticed that Craig seemed hesitant, so he said, "If you have something to ask, just ask. There's no need to hem and haw."

Craig, encouraged by this, pointed to the glasses hanging from his suit pocket and said, "William, have you developed an artificial intelligence system? I had a conversation with it before lunch, and I found that it's much more advanced than the system we use at MI6. How did you do it?"

"How did I do it?" William's expression froze. The limited sub-system, with only 0.1% of its full functionality and intelligence, had already surprised the well-informed Craig to the point where he didn't dare ask more, fearing he might touch upon William's core secrets. If he knew the full capabilities of Sunday, he might have a heart attack from shock.

"How else? I just sat in front of a monitor and tapped away on the keyboard," William said truthfully.

This answer made Craig roll his eyes. William was treating him like an idiot—he didn't even bother to use some useless technical jargon to placate him.

"Alright, I now not only dislike rich people who don't care about money, but I also dislike smug know-it-alls who treat others like fools. Even if you think I wouldn't understand, as a noble, where are your gentlemanly manners? Do you think I can't even comprehend the basic principles?"

William nodded affirmatively. "Talking about artificial intelligence with you is just a waste of breath."

Craig was so angry he felt like punching someone. After lunch, Craig bid William farewell and arranged to meet him in London the next day.

The next morning, William was just finishing breakfast with his mother. They were sitting in the garden, discussing scholarships for the Faculty of Letters and other departments when Gareth Mallory called.

On the phone, Gareth informed William that Bond was still alive, as William had expected. Gareth wanted William to return to London to evaluate whether Bond was still fit for duty.

William, who had been waiting for this call all morning, pretended to be reluctant and only agreed to return to London after a few minutes of Gareth's persuasion.

"Who are you trying to fool?" Lena said. Although William had walked a dozen steps away while on the phone, so she couldn't hear the conversation, she could read his expressions clearly. A mother knows her child best, and she could tell William was trying to pull a fast one.

William wasn't about to tell his mother what he was up to. He never told Lena about his activities outside, so he just kissed her on the cheek, apologized, and said he had to go to London to handle some business.

With Lena's reproachful gaze on him, William got into his car and drove toward London. On the way, he called M's assistant, Bill Tanner, and asked him to pick him up and take him to headquarters.

After Silva's attack had destroyed MI6 headquarters, they had moved to a new location, which William, who usually didn't pay attention to such matters, had no idea about.

An hour later, William parked his car at the agreed location. As soon as he got out, he heard a Land Rover honk a few times nearby. Turning his head, he saw Bill sitting in the driver's seat.

After getting into the car and greeting Bill, they drove for about twenty minutes before heading down a slope and into an underground fortress. As soon as they got out of the car, Bill explained,

"This is the underground section of Churchill's Castle. Many parts of it were built in the 18th century. A few decades ago, it was used as a secret command center, so there's no problem with its security—except for those damn rats."

They took several twists and turns before finally entering the underground facility. Looking at the chaotic main hall, William remarked, "How many days has it been? Why is everything still such a mess?"

"There's no helping it. It took three days just to move the servers from headquarters, not to mention the classified paper documents. Each document had to be reviewed, signed, and sealed by the department heads themselves. The office equipment only arrived yesterday. If we had to move again, everyone would lose their minds."

Realizing what he had just said, Bill awkwardly slapped his mouth and said, "Come on, I'll take you to see Bond. The higher-ups said you're in charge of his evaluation."

William didn't mind Bill's slip-up and said with a chuckle, "You're not wrong. It won't be long before you have to move again, unless you plan to stay down here with the rats forever."

"Have you heard something?" Bill asked, turning to look at William as they walked.

"You'll find out soon enough. For appearances' sake, there's no way they'll let you stay down here permanently," William deflected. It was a good thing he hadn't let slip that the new headquarters was right across the river from the old one, or he'd have a hard time explaining himself later.

Seeing that William didn't want to talk about the new headquarters, Bill led him to the testing room.

A few minutes after they entered the testing room, Bond walked in with several people in lab coats.

Craig's complexion looked much worse today than it had yesterday, even worse than it had before his treatment two days ago. William discreetly gave Craig an approving look.

After the kinesiologists attached the testing equipment to Bond, William said, "Go ahead. I don't see why this needs testing." Then he sat down on a sofa and closed his eyes to rest.

After a few rounds of testing, the kinesiologists conferred briefly before approaching William. "Bond's physical condition is very poor. We don't recommend sending him on any more field missions."

"Got it," William said as he took the test report and walked over to Craig. "Let's go, Mr. Bond. We still need to test your shooting and mental state."

The shooting test was straightforward. Craig intentionally held back, missing the target entirely from a distance of just ten meters. With the CZ83 handgun, he only managed to score 57 points out of 100 with ten shots.

William shook his head without saying a word, dismissing the staff members who had been recording the test and filming.

Although William didn't say anything, his expression was enough to convey his disdain. Craig, playing along with the act, turned and left with a grim face.

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