After closing the portal to the Yellowstone facility, William opened another portal leading to Oxford Castle. Through this gateway, eight armored warrior-model robots emerged, marching in unison to stand before him.
"Roar!" A beastly howl echoed, growing louder as it approached the hall.
William turned to face the dozens of werewolves charging into the living room. Standing tall at the center of the room, he raised a finger and, with a tinge of excitement in his voice, commanded:
"Eliminate them all."
"Clink!" The glowing blue eyes of the eight robots turned crimson, and they drew their swords and other bladed weapons. Without hesitation, the robots began advancing toward the oncoming werewolves.
The werewolves assumed the robots were limited to close-quarters combat, but they were sorely mistaken. As the first few werewolves lunged forward, three of the robots with optimal shooting angles deployed shoulder-mounted weapons.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
The air filled with the sound of gunfire as seven or eight werewolves were struck mid-charge, their bodies tumbling into furniture or slamming against the walls. The nanite-enhanced silver bullets immediately spread through their bloodstream, attacking them from within.
"Ahhh!" Agonized cries filled the room.
"Silver!"
The werewolves hit by the bullets writhed in pain, their transformations reversing. They collapsed to the floor, struggling and snarling in torment.
Before the remaining werewolves could process what had happened, Sunday confirmed the effectiveness of the silver bullets while simultaneously directing the eight robots to charge into the fray with their swords and blades.
The clash that followed was brutal and chaotic. The room filled with the sounds of claws raking against metal, swords cutting through fur and flesh, and the unmistakable crack of bones breaking.
William, however, wasn't interested in watching the robots rely solely on their ranged weapons. His primary goal was to test how resistant the werewolves' claws and teeth were against the various metals used in the robots' construction.
When the eight robots charged into the werewolf horde, the resulting melee was intense. Within moments, two robots made of standard steel were overwhelmed as five or six werewolves worked together to rip off their arms. Exposed and vulnerable, the steel robots were quickly destroyed.
The remaining six robots, made of more robust materials, continued their assault. Encased in alloyed armor, they ignored the werewolves' bites and slashes, focusing solely on their offensive strikes. Their relentless attacks began cutting down the werewolves one by one.
A handful of werewolves tried to rush William directly, but before they could reach him, the Mark III suit's shoulder-mounted laser system activated, slicing the attackers cleanly in two. After losing five or six of their packmates in quick succession, the remaining werewolves hesitated, none daring to make another move toward William.
As the battle raged on, the floor of the grand hall became littered with severed limbs and bodies. The werewolves, seeing their numbers dwindle, began to falter. Some of the smarter ones started retreating slowly, looking for an escape.
By now, Sunday had gathered sufficient combat data. Under her guidance, the six remaining robots abandoned their one-on-one tactics and began working together in coordinated formations to systematically eliminate the last ten or so werewolves.
Four werewolves broke away, fleeing toward the edges of the room in a desperate bid for freedom.
But before they could escape, a swarm of spider drones descended from the ceiling, landing directly on the fleeing creatures. With their sharp metallic legs, the drones pierced the werewolves' bodies, sending jolts of electricity coursing through them.
"Zzzt, zzzt!"
In just a few seconds, the four werewolves collapsed, paralyzed by the electric shocks.
Meanwhile, the six remaining robots finished their battle. The final werewolf met its end when the titanium-alloy robot—the same material as the Mark III suit—grabbed its head and crushed its skull.
Satisfied, William nodded.
"Clean out the basement and every room in this manor. Kill any remaining non-human entities."
"Understood, SIR," Sunday responded.
Above them, the self-detonating triangular drones systematically entered the various rooms of the manor, releasing clouds of nanite-infused silver mist.
The six remaining robots formed tactical teams and descended into the basement, leaving one titanium robot to guard the entrance. The remaining drones and spider bots scattered throughout the property, hunting down any fleeing werewolves.
Sporadic growls and screams echoed from the basement, growing fainter as the robots completed their sweep.
William walked over to the four paralyzed werewolves, still alive but incapacitated. Opening a portal, he kicked them one by one into the Yellowstone facility.
On the other side, pre-deployed robots fired stun rounds at the werewolves to ensure they stayed unconscious before dragging them into reinforced holding cells.
Turning his attention to the bodies of the werewolves who had reverted to human form after being shot, William knelt by one that was still alive but clearly weakened.
Stepping on its chest, he aimed his Glock loaded with silver bullets. The werewolf stared at him with fear in its eyes as he calmly pulled the trigger.
"Bang!"
The silver bullet struck its heart, and within seconds, the creature stopped breathing.
Moving to another weakened werewolf, William shot its arms and legs first. The creature roared in agony as the silver spread through its bloodstream, its veins turning a dark, metallic hue. After a minute of thrashing, it too succumbed.
From this, William deduced that while one silver bullet was enough to incapacitate a werewolf, killing them outright required either three bullets' worth of silver or a direct hit to the heart or brain.
Having gathered all the data he needed, William opened a new portal and ordered Sunday, "Clean up this mess. I want all traces removed."
"Understood, SIR," Sunday replied.
Moments later, several cleaning robots from the Yellowstone facility emerged through the portal and began systematically clearing the debris and body parts littering the hall.
Sinking into a sofa, William asked, "You've been monitoring this estate for days. Can we produce a scanner capable of detecting werewolves based on their unique characteristics?"
Sunday responded, "Yes, SIR. However, without confirmation that all werewolves share the same physiological traits as the ones here, I cannot guarantee 100% accuracy in identifying them."
William shrugged. "That's fine. We'll refine the data over time. For now, we'll start scanning the areas around Oxford Castle and the London estate. I want every werewolf in those regions eliminated."
After a moment of thought, he added, "Replace all the robots at the castle and the estate with titanium-alloy models. Also, produce 100 standard alloy warrior robots at the Yellowstone facility."
"Are you certain, SIR? Upgrading the castle with 16 titanium robots and the estate with 12 will cost $2.8 million. Producing 100 standard alloy robots will add another $1 million to the expense."
"Yes, I'm certain," William replied without hesitation. "It's not like these are Mark III suits. For $3.8 million, I'm not going to hesitate."
After a brief pause, he continued, "Oh, and about the design—there's no need to stick to the medieval knight aesthetic. Make them look more modern and appealing."
"Apologies, SIR," Sunday replied. "My design logic prioritizes functionality over aesthetics. However, I can provide you with a selection of visually appealing designs from the database for you to choose from."
"Alright, that works," William sighed, realizing it would be too much to expect an AI to understand his personal tastes in design.
Satisfied with the progress so far, William ventured into the basement. Along the way, he encountered a few stray werewolves. Raising his palm, he dispatched them effortlessly with bursts of his suit's pulse beams.
Upon reaching the lowest level, he found two robots engaged in combat with several werewolves.
Raising both hands, William fired two pulse beams, neutralizing two of the creatures. Then, his shoulder-mounted missile racks deployed.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
Three micro-missiles streaked through the air, detonating with a series of muffled booms.
Taking advantage of the chaos, the two robots swung their knightly swords, cutting down the remaining werewolves who hadn't been killed outright by the explosions.
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Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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