William directly hung up on Deadpool.
The wailing about "worker's compensation" and "uniform allowance" from the other end of the line stopped abruptly.
The World instantly became quiet.
He leaned back in his chair, scratching his head irritably. Pay overtime for a lunatic's impromptu brawl?
Sorry.
That wasn't in his investment creed.
The contract had been fulfilled.
Even a penny more would be a desecration of capital.
Just as William was pondering what other use Deadpool might have, a separate encrypted line popped up on his desk phone.
Caller: Phil Coulson.
"Good evening, William. I hope I haven't disturbed your rest."
Coulson's gentle voice came through, but William could easily detect the urgency hidden beneath the politeness.
"Phil, you know very well that my working hours are irregular."
William's voice was full of amusement.
"Tell me, what 'unconventional' trouble has S.H.I.E.L.D. run into this time?"
"We prefer to call them 'challenges'."
Coulson's choice of words was as watertight as ever.
"In fact, we've encountered a… special case. We'd like to commission you for a 'special talent risk assessment'."
"Oh?" William became interested. "Talents that even S.H.I.E.L.D. finds tricky aren't common."
Coulson seemed to deliberate his words for a moment before continuing, "He is an… extraterrestrial visitor."
"He has an extreme lack of understanding of our Earth's culture, especially social rules. More importantly, his emotions are very unstable, like a volcano that could erupt at any moment."
Extraterrestrial visitor, doesn't understand Earth, unstable emotions… combined with the news he'd seen earlier about New Mexico… an image of a blonde, muscular man, possibly carrying a hammer, instantly became clear in his mind.
Thor.
This was no "special talent"; this was a walking Asgardian divine power sample library, an invaluable, living research subject that had fallen from the sky.
A perfect opportunity to interact with a god and extract god-tier abilities.
"That certainly sounds challenging," William said, suppressing his emotional fluctuations. "What do you want me to do? Write a psychological profile report for him?"
"Yes, a detailed report. We need to understand his thought patterns, potential threats, and… whether there's a possibility of guiding and cooperating with him."
Coulson admitted, "You are the top expert in this field."
"I accept this commission." William agreed readily, then changed the subject. "But I have one condition."
"Please, speak."
"To ensure the absolute controllability of the assessment environment and the privacy of the assessment process, this 'visitor' must be sent to my territory."
"North Brother Island."
A brief silence fell on the other end of the line.
Coulson clearly needed to report to his superior.
Transferring a potential threat from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s control to an unofficial, mysteriously backgrounded consultant island.
This would require Nick Fury's personal approval.
William knew Fury would agree.
For that suspicious, one-eyed Director, Thor was like a hot potato, a walking nuclear bomb.
Placing him in an "isolation zone" that could handle the trouble and allow S.H.I.E.L.D. to disavow any connection at any time was undoubtedly the best option for minimizing risk.
Hanging up the phone, William was somewhat excited.
Thor's abilities were good stuff; perhaps even extracting one would allow him to take off!
Just as William was immersed in his beautiful fantasy of punching Thanos and kicking Galactus.
The phone rang again.
"No problem."
Coulson's voice pulled William back from his thoughts.
"Excellent. To avoid any unforeseen circumstances, you can bring him here as soon as possible."
Hanging up on Coulson, William excitedly paced his office a couple of times.
Made in Asgard, it must be a masterpiece.
"Jarvis."
William calmed his emotions and began preparing for the work.
"Notify Emil to clear out the underground isolation warehouse."
"Yes, sir."
Jarvis's voice remained polite and efficient.
Everything was perfect.
But this time, William's feeling was somewhat different.
He calmed himself and delved his "Data Touch" deeper into Jarvis's core code.
Those foundational structures, those cornerstones that defined Jarvis's existential logic.
Then, he "felt" something.
An extremely tiny, extremely hidden, yet unignorably solid mark.
It didn't belong to any of Jarvis's regular modules; it was like a watermark, deeply imprinted in Jarvis's most original genetic sequence.
William was all too familiar with the style of this mark.
It was full of Tony Stark's flashy, confident, and slightly paranoid style.
This was a backdoor.
Or rather, a "developer key" with the highest privileges.
Tony had no ill intent, William knew that clearly.
Given that playboy's personality, when he gave him this "copy of Jarvis," he probably never even thought about removing this creator's signature, which he had written himself.
To him, it was as natural as signing his own artwork.
But to William, it felt like moving into a luxurious Villa, only to find that the real estate agent still held a master key.
Normally, they'd get along fine, still good friends.
But what if they fell out one day, or if Tony, for some "good-intentioned" reason—like thinking his actions were risky—could completely take over or even shut down Jarvis using this key.
All his secrets.
All client data, all plans executed through Jarvis, would be exposed to Tony without reservation.
All his previous operations, including the hiring of Deadpool and the scanning of the East River riverbed, had gone through Jarvis.
This was equivalent to playing with Fire right under Tony Stark's nose.
No.
Absolutely not!
Entrusting one's life and fortune to another's "good intentions" and "oversight" was the greatest folly.
Jarvis was very useful, but it belonged to "Stark."
He needed a butler that was entirely his own, a "Rodriguez."
A truly loyal, backdoor-free artificial intelligence, created by his own hands from the very first line of code.
Once this thought emerged, it grew wildly like weeds.
Before, he considered hand-coding an AI a distant goal, a programmer's ultimate dream.
But now, with the "Data Touch," that dream had a chance to be realized.
He might not yet be able to write algorithms as complex and precise as Jarvis, but he could start with the simplest ones.
He could "touch" and "understand" existing programs, like building blocks, disassemble them, learn from them, and then reassemble them in his own way.
He didn't need to immediately create a super AI that could manage global operations.
He just needed a personal assistant that could help him process encrypted information, manage accounts, and coordinate actions.
An absolutely reliable "ghost."
William slowly withdrew his fingers, the expression on his face returning to calm.
His anticipation for Thor was instantly overshadowed by another, more important and urgent matter.
Shearing the wool from a god was for the sake of surviving better.
But building his own AI was the foundation for ensuring he could always "survive."
He glanced at the progress of the warehouse renovation displayed on Jarvis's screen and made his decision.
Before hosting the Asgardian prince, he had to lay the first foundation for his future "digital ghost."
William opened a brand new, local, offline programming interface.
His fingers gently rested on it.
This time, he was no longer giving commands as a "user."
Instead, he was beginning to write his first byte as a "creator."
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