Illari fell.
He didn't even manage to let out a complete cry of anguish before he collapsed heavily onto the ground, his blood quickly spreading across the smooth marble floor.
Just a moment ago, he was a subtle and crucial balance in this power struggle, the core that everyone sought to control.
But now, he was just a rapidly cooling corpse.
For the first time, Sir William's face showed genuine, unrestrained shock. He clutched the wheelchair armrest tightly, his knuckles turning pale blue from exertion.
Paul's secretly cultivated confidant had just finished firing, not yet able to turn the gun on another—
"Bang bang bang bang bang!!!"
Even more intense and furious gunfire exploded like popcorn!
At least seven or eight submachine guns fired simultaneously, and the bodyguards around the hall used almost just two seconds to turn the shooter into a sieve!
The smell of blood and gunpowder filled the air instantly.
"Kill him!"
Chris's roar almost tore his throat, pointing at Paul, eyes red: "Kill him now! This traitor! This—"
"Stop!"
Before Paul could speak, William's shout echoed in the hall.
Chris's scream halted abruptly, and he looked at his grandfather in disbelief.
The elderly man on the wheelchair was still breathing heavily, even coughing fiercely due to the urgency, but raised his hand, signaling "stop."
The gun barrels continued to aim at Paul, but the bodyguards' fingers only rested on the triggers without firing again.
Paul remained standing in place, never moving.
He didn't even glance at the confidant shot into a sieve, nor at Illari's corpse on the floor.
He simply looked quietly at William, his face devoid of fear, devoid of triumph, only a semblance of indifferent calm.
"Kill me?"
Paul looked at Chris, speaking softly: "Of course you can, I'm just a fragile ordinary person, just a single bullet, and I'd immediately become the next corpse."
With Sir William's coughing, Paul paused, a very faint curve appearing at the corner of his lips:
"However, without Illari as the maker, all the Poppet contracts are signed with me."
He took a step forward, ignoring the tense bodyguards, staring directly at William:
"If I were to die, what would happen to the unbound Poppet? Will they revolt immediately? Or would they never accept any external command again? Or perhaps move freely at will?"
Paul glanced at William, then at the furious Chris and the surrounding bodyguards, asking:
"Do you dare to bet? Bet that these Alchemy Creations will remain as obedient as they are now without a master?"
No sound could be made for a moment, and even the silent bodyguards involuntarily lowered their gun barrels, as if worried they might accidentally shoot Paul to death.
Illari's body lay quietly on the ground, eyes hollow as they gazed at the ceiling, seemingly mocking silently.
For the Stonefield Family, only he could make the Poppets they needed, and only he could transfer the contracts.
But his cowardice, talent, betrayal, and loyalty in life all became meaningless past as the bullet pierced his chest.
Everyone's attention focused on Paul and William.
The over two hundred Poppet remained seated or standing. Their eyes now uniformly gazing at Paul, and at William.
No emotion, no inclination, just "watching."
But it's this absolute "silence" and "attention" that's more terrifying than any roar or threat.
Sir William's chest fiercely heaved, the heartache almost causing convulsions.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. When he opened them again, all the shock, anger, even murderous intent, receded like a tide.
"Ha...hahaha..."
He suddenly laughed, speaking self-mockingly and helplessly: "Good… very good… Mark, you've indeed... never let me down."
Sir William suppressed his anger, his tone strived to calm, speaking evenly:
"We can talk... What do you want? Money? Power? Or some property of the Stonefield Clan? Say it, we can negotiate."
He paused, his voice regaining a hint of sternness:
"But if you think, controlling these Poppet allows you lion-like demands from me… then you'd best give up soon, otherwise we'll both only perish together!"
This is the bottom line.
Also the final warning.
After all… saying Paul dead causing the Poppet to lose control, is but speculation; who can assert what they'd become then?
Perhaps the Poppet, like robots, will be unable to move without instructions?
When that time comes, Sir William might as well abandon his annexation plan and let those unaware guests leave, the Stonefield Family remains an unignorable giant.
Paul was silent for a few seconds.
He lowered his head, looking at his clean hands, then raised his head looking at William, finally revealing a trace of... almost sincere regret.
"Lion-like demands? How could it be? I know even if dying, you'd never accept endless threats."
He slightly bowed, his demeanor remaining respectfully as he said: "I only need the identity of a partner, taking a share in your plan. The Stonefield Family controls the overall situation, I'm responsible for execution and maintenance… decision-making power still rests in your hands."
Sir William laughed heartily, an intense glint flashing in his eyes, yet speaking cheerfully: "No problem, I can agree!"