"More dangerous than the Dark Lord?" Philip said in disbelief. "That's impossible."
It had been over six years since Voldemort's death. Now 24 years old and significantly stronger, Harry looked tense as he explained,
"I can feel an overwhelming, suffocating aura of death around Duke Devonshire. The number of people who have died by his hands is definitely no less than those killed by Voldemort."
After speaking, memories flooded Harry's mind, and a look of fear appeared on his face as he continued,
"And how old is he? 23?"
"If he has already killed as many as Voldemort by 23, imagine how many more he'll kill by the time he reaches Voldemort's age.
Bringing someone like that into the wizarding world—if he ever causes trouble—his threat would be far greater than Voldemort's."
"But you can't stop him from learning magic," Philip countered.
Having some knowledge of William's past, Philip was well aware of how many people William had killed. He also understood that if William ever took an interest in wizardry, he would go to any lengths to acquire knowledge.
And among wizarding families, many desired gold just as much as they valued magic.
However, at this moment, William wasn't even focused on magic.
"Sunday, create a new task for me. Name it the Sentinel Robot Project. Research whether the Skrulls' shapeshifting ability can replace Mystique's genes."
"Understood, Sir. The task has been created. Please provide blueprints and material specifications for the robot project."
The blueprints would have to wait until he returned to his estate, but he could list the necessary materials now.
As he sifted through the information on Sentinel robots in his mind's system, he spoke while making his way toward the banquet hall.
He paid no attention to what Harry Potter and Philip were discussing.
Even if he heard them, he wouldn't care—because after watching Harry cast so many spells, he had already confirmed that, in terms of raw magical power, he could completely overwhelm Harry Potter.
Moreover, considering how the British wizarding world would imprison anyone who dared to use a lethal spell, William had no interest in dealing with them.
If he became one of them, and he casually eliminated a rival or a potential threat, these self-righteous, sanctimonious wizards would likely brand him a Dark Wizard and a target for elimination.
By the time he returned to the banquet hall, the dinner gathering hadn't officially begun, but most of the guests had already arrived.
The midday banquet had been attended mainly by nobles and England's upper class, with a formal meal being served. The evening, however, was a cocktail party, drawing not only England's elite but also influential figures from other countries.
As soon as he entered the banquet hall, William was quickly surrounded by all sorts of people. Fortunately, Wilson soon arrived with Abigail, helping to divert much of the attention.
Most attendees were simply eager to introduce themselves to William and didn't linger to bother him.
As for those who had no business dealings with William and weren't interested in approaching him, they merely raised their glasses in acknowledgment before resuming conversations with their own circles.
"Hey, William!"
While casually chatting with the Duke of Grosvenor and his son, William heard someone call out to him. With a quick mental sweep, he immediately identified the newcomers.
Apologetically nodding to the Duke and his son, he turned around to see the towering, burly, bearded, bald-headed Obadiah Stane, alongside a shorter man with black-rimmed glasses, a sly expression, and an unmistakable identity—Justin Hammer.
"Hey, my God, Mr. Stane! How long has it been since we last met?" William enthusiastically extended his hand toward Obadiah. "It's such a surprise—and a pleasure—to see you here."
"The pleasure is mine, William," Obadiah replied, visibly pleased by William's friendly demeanor. He shook hands firmly, giving it an extra shake before laughing heartily.
"It's been over two years—nearly three! I kept hoping to see you at a board meeting, but you never attended. So, I had no choice but to come to London to see you myself."
"Haha, my apologies," William said with a grin—though he didn't mean it at all. "You know, I only own seven percent of Stark Industries. Whether I attend or not makes little difference.
Instead of wasting time at board meetings, I'd rather sit at home and let you and Tony make money for me. That way, I get to be the most comfortable, effortless kind of boss."
"Hahaha!"
William's amusing remark prompted laughter from the nearby guests.
Now convinced that William held no hostility toward him, Obadiah finally turned to introduce the impatient-looking Justin Hammer.
"There's no need, Obadiah—I already know Mr. Hammer, and I admire some of his business strategies," William said casually.
Ignoring the curious glances around them, William extended his hand toward Justin Hammer.
"Thank you for attending this gathering, Mr. Hammer. I'm William Devonshire—pleased to meet you."
"I—I—I'm honored to meet you too, Mr. Devonshire! I'm Justin Hammer, Chairman of Hammer Industries," Justin stammered excitedly.
After introducing himself, Justin nervously pulled out a business card and respectfully presented it with both hands.
The surrounding English nobles and even Obadiah gave him disdainful looks. At a high-society event like this, unless someone specifically asked for a card, it was considered bad manners to offer one unsolicited.
However, whether Justin was just shameless or truly ignorant of etiquette, William had no choice but to accept the card. After glancing at it briefly, he smiled and said,
"I'm glad you acquired Bruce Hammer's company. I hope you'll uphold the Hammer family's legacy and take it to greater heights."
"Thank you, thank you," Justin said gratefully. Then, with a sudden change in expression, he sighed in sorrow.
"Unfortunately, I wasn't able to protect my nieces and nephews. One after another, they all left this world… It's my fault."
"My condolences, Mr. Hammer."
As he subtly observed William's reaction, Justin noticed something intriguing—the corners of William's lips curled upward slightly when he offered his condolences, as if he were in a good mood.
In that instant, Justin knew—the deaths of Bruce Hammer's three sons were definitely connected to William.
And if William was pleased that Justin had finished off the remaining heirs, that meant William approved of how he had handled things.
This realization put Justin at ease. After all, in this matter, he and William were undoubtedly on the same side.
As they continued chatting, William soon figured out the reason for Obadiah and Justin's presence at the banquet.
Justin Hammer's desire to obtain licensing rights for the M416 didn't concern him much.
Letting Justin—a dedicated arms dealer—handle distribution could help William avoid being labeled a weapons dealer himself.
Plus, outsourcing the sales network and customer acquisition meant less work for him. Losing a little profit in exchange for convenience was a trade-off he could accept.
But Obadiah, that bald-headed bastard, was far greedier and seemed completely unaware of his own limitations.
He actually believed that opening the American market would impress William enough to grant him the self-healing medical device distribution rights.
Still, looking at these two arms dealers—who would do anything for money—William suddenly had an idea.
Perhaps, with their help, he could stir up more trouble for the Americans already struggling in the Middle Eastern deserts.
(End of Chapter)
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