After apologizing to those around him, William took Abigail's hand and led Obadiah and Justin to a quieter corner of the banquet hall.
Smiling at Justin, he said, "I have no problem granting you the distribution rights for the M416. As for the price—"
William thought for a moment before continuing, "A simple weapons license will be $1,000 per unit. If I handle production, the rifle plus all accessories will be $1,500 per unit."
Upon hearing the price, Justin's heart pounded wildly. He struggled to keep his excitement in check.
"This… Mr. Devonshire, are you sure $500 covers both the weapon and all accessories?"
"Heh, maybe one day I should show you my automated production line," William replied with a smirk.
"William."
Even though she knew William was joking, Abigail instinctively shook his arm, reminding him not to make careless promises.
"Alright, alright, my dear, I'll listen to you." After planting a kiss on Abigail's cheek, he shrugged at Obadiah and Justin. "My automated production line can manufacture anything from rifles to spaceship components.
So, gentlemen, I assure you that the M416's manufacturing process is the best in the world.
Tell you what—I'll have a hundred freshly produced rifles with full accessories delivered to you. Your company must have plenty of experts to test them, right?"
"That would be ideal," Justin nodded with a grin. "If the tests go well, we'll proceed with your pricing model.
For the initial order volume, I'll run some ads in the U.S. and invite gun clubs to test them. That should give us a rough estimate."
The fact that Justin didn't try to negotiate made William realize that he wasn't as foolish as he seemed. He understood that a successful first deal would pave the way for future business.
William found him much more agreeable now. Raising his glass for a toast, he smiled and said, "To a successful partnership. I'll leave the details to Abigail. Any objections?"
"Not at all," Justin said, glancing enviously at the beautiful Abigail. He then complimented, "Mr. Devonshire, I truly envy you for having such a capable partner in Miss Chase."
"Thank you," William replied, then turned to Abigail. "Darling, discuss the details with Mr. Hammer. Give me and Obadiah some private time."
"That's right, Justin," Obadiah added. "With both key decision-makers of the Devonshire Group here, if I were you, I'd finalize everything now.
You never know—William might get caught up in another new invention and forget all about us."
Although Justin was eager to hear what William and Obadiah were about to discuss, since both had effectively dismissed him, he didn't push further.
"Okay, then. Miss Chase, this way, please."
As Abigail walked away, she stopped only about five or six meters away, refusing to go farther.
William knew this was because she was still shaken by his earlier disappearance.
Smiling, he lowered his voice and asked Obadiah, "Is Stark Industries looking to enter the medical field, or is this just you wanting to collaborate with me?"
"Is there a difference?" Obadiah feigned ignorance. "We could start a new company together—"
"Stop."
William raised his hand, cutting Obadiah off without hesitation, not caring if the older man's expression darkened.
"We both know that over 90% of your influence comes from Stark Industries.
And let's be honest, Mr. Stane—you're not exactly a trustworthy partner."
"You—what do you mean by that, William?"
"Heh. Maybe you don't realize that I have access to England's most covert intelligence division.
I know quite a bit about the things you've been doing in the desert regions."
"Bloody hell."
Obadiah hadn't expected his secret dealings to be exposed so easily. He was already considering damage control when William added,
"Relax. I'm not American, nor do I intend to threaten or interfere with your business.
In fact, given my… recent dissatisfaction with the U.S., I don't oppose what you're doing at all.
On some level, I actually enjoy seeing it."
Recalling recent events in the Sahara Desert, Obadiah quickly regained his composure and smiled. "So, you want in?"
"Of course, my friend," William chuckled, throwing an arm around Obadiah's shoulder.
"What's that saying? A true arms dealer is one who sells weapons even to the enemy.
Besides, Stark Industries is a military-industrial giant. To keep making money, wars need to last as long as possible.
The more weapons sold, the higher the stock prices—and the more money we make.
So, my friend, I completely support your… private ventures."
"Hahaha, William, you really get it." Obadiah clinked glasses with William, downing his drink with a grin.
"Tony is too idealistic—he doesn't understand that if I don't do this,
other military contractors secretly selling weapons will simply take a larger market share.
Hell, even frontline commanders and generals want their enemies to hold out longer.
If wars only lasted a few months or half a year, how would they get promoted?"
As Obadiah watched William's expression carefully, he noticed that William showed no hint of disapproval or disdain.
He couldn't help but admire William's ruthlessness.
Unlike Tony, who had grown up in comfort, William had clawed his way up from the bottom, making him far more ruthless and pragmatic.
At that moment, Obadiah felt that William was the perfect business partner for him.
"Alright, enough talk—how do you want to collaborate?"
"It's simple. You handle the negotiations for the orders, I handle production and guarantee delivery to the desert region's coast.
One phone call, and the shipment arrives within an hour."
"A spaceship?"
Obadiah quickly pieced together William's plan. But once he did, he was shocked by the sheer scale of William's ambition.
For a moment, he was too afraid to even meet William's gaze.
Deep down, he classified William as a madman.
Even he wouldn't go so far as to deploy a spaceship just to supply weapons to insurgents—just to spite the U.S.
But for William, he had no intention of actually using a spaceship.
The vast desert provided plenty of safe, hidden locations for teleportation.
"You seriously plan to use a spaceship for a deal worth only a billion—or even just a few hundred million?"
"A few hundred million? Are you joking?"
Feigning shock, William furrowed his brows.
"Obadiah, you're a billionaire.
Do you really think such small profits are worth the risk you're taking?"
Obadiah's face turned slightly red. Then he heard William sigh and shake his head.
"Bloody hell, a deal of that size wouldn't even cover the cost of a single spaceship flight and maintenance."
Seeing William hesitate, Obadiah—who absolutely did not want William to back out—quickly tried to think of a way to convince him.
But before he could speak, William continued,
"No, this won't do. I need to redesign the spaceship.
I'll build some new, stealth-capable aircraft specifically for operations within Earth's atmosphere."
"By the way, how much do your shipments usually weigh per transaction?
Or maybe I should develop some new weapons—only selling high-margin items like missiles.
What do you think?"
(End of Chapter)
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