Chapter 19: Lifting 007 with One Hand
"Hello, Mr. Devinshire."
William turned his head and saw the man who had called himself James Bond, holding a glass of wine and looking at him.
Remembering their last exchange, William played along with a smile. "I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught your name... Mr. Bond."
Bond returned the smile. "Thank you for remembering me. And congratulations, William. You're now the youngest billionaire in England."
William's expression sobered, and a sense of vigilance rose within him. He said calmly, "Mr. Bond, if you have something to say, please get to the point."
The money hadn't even hit his account yet, and a life of luxury awaited him. The last thing he wanted was to get entangled with agents like Bond.
Being sought out by them could only mean trouble. It indicated that they believed he possessed some secret they were interested in, and their approach suggested they were growing impatient.
Not to mention the massive secret he truly did have—his system and his magic. Those could never be exposed.
Bond could see William's defensiveness and alienation. "Alright, William. I've come to introduce you to someone."
"Who?" William asked.
"Come with me. It's not far, just in the hotel café." Bond gestured for William to follow him, leading the way.
Before they reached the entrance, William noticed two tall, imposing bodyguards standing guard. It seemed the person they were meeting was quite important.
Upon entering, Bond led William to a woman in her sixties. Bond himself then stood aside respectfully and remained silent.
The moment he walked through the door and saw the setup, William understood. *The famous M?*
He'd seen enough of the movies to recognize one of the few recurring characters: M, the leader of MI6.
As William approached, M extended a hand. "William Devinshire. You can call me M."
William quickly composed his features into a polite but questioning expression and shook her hand. "A pleasure to meet you. I'm William Devinshire. May I ask why you wanted to see me?"
M sighed inwardly as she studied the young man before her. Not yet twenty, and he'd become a billionaire through his own efforts. That old codger Henry was truly blessed to have such an excellent heir.
"May I call you William?"
William nodded, "Of course, ma'am."
M didn't waste time with pleasantries. "I've come to you today, William, because of your extraordinary talent with computers. I want to invite you to join the network security department of the Military Intelligence Bureau."
*Network security department,* William thought. *What a flimsy excuse.* If he really joined MI6, he'd be at the beck and call of the old woman in front of him, likely assigned to dangerous missions.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," William replied politely. "I'm sure you're aware of my situation. I've just come into a great deal of money, and this capital will allow me to realize my own ambitions. So, with all due respect, I have no plans to work for anyone else."
M knew that a newly minted billionaire was unlikely to agree right away, but she hadn't come here expecting to give up so easily.
"William, we are not an ordinary employer. I think you should see this."
M slid a file bag across the table to him.
William opened the file bag. The first thing he saw was a photograph of his grandfather, Henry.
*What does this have to do with Grandfather?* he wondered, his mind racing back to the things Henry had taught him.
He quickly began to read, and the contents of the file were both surprising and, somehow, perfectly logical.
It turned out that his grandfather had been an operative for the Military Intelligence Bureau. Codenamed 'W', Henry had joined MI6 at eighteen and had served until the day he died.
At the back of the file was a letter from Henry himself. In it, he expressed his hope that William would join the bureau after his twentieth birthday to inherit his legacy and his codename, 'W', which had been passed down from his own grandfather.
Before he could process this fully, something seemed to activate in his mind. A deluge of new knowledge—the skills of agents, assassins, and special forces operators—flooded his consciousness.
At the same time, a prompt began flashing in his mind's eye, demanding he choose his "Basic Action Conservation."
With a glance, he understood. The prompt was asking him to choose an alignment. The Orderful camp meant recognizing and obeying order: don't do what is legally and morally forbidden. The Chaotic camp was the opposite: do what you want, when you want, regardless of the law.
The only upside to Chaos was that the system didn't stipulate he had to be a saint. As long as he had a justifiable reason, he could still eliminate his enemies.
William chose the Orderful camp without a second thought. He'd been an ordinary person in both lives and had no desire to spend his days dreaming of destruction and anarchy.
He had just made a fortune; the last thing he wanted now was social turmoil. He hadn't even had a chance to enjoy the life he had always dreamed of.
*[Ding! Host has chosen the Orderful camp. Reward: one cubic meter of portable storage space.]*
William's heart leaped with joy. *This is fantastic!* His mind immediately jumped to its potential. *It would be so convenient for... smuggling things. I could buy high-tariff goods and sell them in other countries for a huge profit.*
He quickly dismissed the thought. *Forget it. I'm a billionaire now. That's a plan for when I was poor. It's much better to have money.*
When M saw William staring blankly at the file, she gave Bond a subtle nod.
Bond leaned in. "William, are you alright?"
William looked up into the handsome agent's eyes and saw genuine concern, not a pretense.
This puzzled him even more. Why would the famous James Bond show him such goodwill? From what he knew of the ace agent, he wasn't a soft-hearted man.
Perhaps sensing William's confusion, Bond decided to explain.
"William, over a decade ago, before I was in the 00-section and had a codename, I was a field agent under your grandfather's command. It was your grandfather who taught me a great deal. I didn't come under M's direct command until after he passed away. I knew your mother, too. I even held you when you were a baby. The first time I ever went to your grandfather's home, I saw you in his study. You were only five years old."
Hearing this, it all clicked into place for William. That was why he'd felt that strange sense of familiarity when he first saw Bond.
He'd brushed it off at the time, thinking it was just because Bond looked like the actor Pierce Brosnan from his past life. But now, Bond's words unlocked a set of memories that had been hidden deep in his mind.
"Heh."
Pretending it was a flicker of fond recognition, William took a step forward. Then, in a sudden blur of motion, he shot his hand out, clamped it around Bond's neck, and lifted the agent off the ground with one arm.
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