Billionaire in Kingsman with a Marvel System

Bond turned to look at Bill and noticed that his mouth was indeed hanging open in a rather unattractive way. However, M was less concerned about Bill's appearance and more focused on Bond. "This office has no cameras or external communication devices, and it's checked twice a day. Can you explain how William knew what was happening here?"

Annoyed, Bond looked at the sunglasses hanging from his collar, just about to reach for them when he heard William's voice in his earpiece.

"Oh, right. I was so pissed off that I forgot to mention—I need a favor from you. Consider it compensation for your big mouth costing me."

"What favor?" Craig asked, puzzled.

"Heh, you know me. The only thing that makes me happy is money. Help me sell the gear you're wearing to M."

"Are you kidding me? A million pounds? You could buy a Harrier jet for that! You think your junk is worth a million pounds? You must think we're idiots, William!" Craig angrily muttered.

M and Bill, surprised by Bond's low muttering, initially looked irritated but quickly realized he was cursing at William.

Bond pointed to his phone and gestured to M. "System, connect to synchronized transmission, enable phone speaker."

"Understood," a mechanical voice replied from the phone. "Synchronized transmission connected successfully."

"Hello, can you hear me?"

The three exchanged exasperated glances but remained silent.

"Fine, you don't want to talk, so I'll just keep going. Listen up, I'm not selling equipment—I'm selling a service. You'd be getting the most advanced AI in the world at your service. A million pounds for a set is a bargain.

"As the first potential customer, I don't think you're idiots. I see you as pigs to be slaughtered. The first time is always the most expensive. Of course, if you want to buy the AI itself, it's not impossible, but the price is a bit steep—100 billion pounds. But I wouldn't recommend it because the system is written in a language I invented, which I call Devonshire Language. If you want to learn it, the price is 200 billion pounds, and I guarantee you'll learn it.

"This is a rare opportunity. Think it over carefully. If you don't want it, I'll just sell it to the Americans. I'm sure they'll be interested. Call me when you've decided. Bye-bye."

"Click." The sound of the call ending came from the phone on the table.

Bond placed the sunglasses next to the phone and pointed to his ear and belt buckle, explaining to M, "The phone, sunglasses, earpiece, and a backup locator in the belt buckle were all given to me by William yesterday at Devonshire Castle. I was puzzled at the time why he'd give me such advanced gear. Now it's clear—he wants to sell it to the Special Operations Bureau and make a killing."

"What functions do these devices have? And why would he tell us about the AI? That's the most advanced, core technology," M asked curiously.

Bond thought for a moment, then shook his head in frustration. "I don't know. William Devonshire strikes me as money-hungry, ruthless, and a super genius. Maybe he just wants to show off, to let people know how brilliant he is. Or maybe he has something even better and is using a downgraded version to make money."

M was silent for a moment, then also shook her head. She couldn't figure out why William would reveal AI technology, but as the head of the Special Operations Bureau, she knew the value of AI and definitely needed to report this.

"Alright, there's a fine line between genius and madness. Maybe he just wanted to drop a hint for me to report to the higher-ups that he's invented AI. Now, tell me about the functions of these devices."

Bond nodded and explained, "The phone can be globally located. Besides the usual functions, its main feature is data transmission. The sunglasses can transmit what they see back to a server via the phone, allowing the server to label and analyze the information. They also have functions like taking pictures, facial recognition, overlaying layers, voice navigation, and positioning.

"The earpiece seems to be a prototype. I've heard about these before, and they sell for around $120,000. The belt buckle doesn't have much to introduce—it's just a backup."

After hearing this, M pondered for a moment, then asked Bill, "What do you think?"

Bill picked up the phone and sunglasses, inspecting them for a moment. "The technology in the phone and sunglasses is advanced, but if we invested in it, we could create something similar. The core must be the system integration, operating program, and information processing capabilities. To know the exact specs, I could have some experts run tests."

"No," Bond quickly refused. "That's definitely not a good idea. I'm sure the phone and sunglasses will self-destruct if tampered with, and the phone might even explode.

"William told me the phone and sunglasses have a three-day usage period."

"Hmm," Bond checked his watch and said, frustrated, "There are less than 43 hours left. After that, if the system in the phone and sunglasses doesn't receive his command, they'll self-destruct. If they lose signal, they'll also self-destruct."

"Shit, so if there's a signal, William can use the AI to monitor the equipment's status. If he detects something wrong, he'll command it to self-destruct. If the signal is blocked, the equipment will immediately self-destruct?" Bill asked, annoyed.

"Yeah, exactly. So, don't overthink it. For all we know, that bastard William might be listening to our conversation right now," Bond's words made the three of them fall silent.

Bond was right—though William wasn't personally monitoring the situation, Sunday had been keeping an ear out. When Bill mentioned dismantling the devices, Sunday identified it as a potential threat and immediately relayed the information to William.

However, after hearing Sunday's report, William wasn't too concerned. Without AI, those devices were just paperweights. It's like having a car without gas—it's useless.

The subsystem programs were written by Sunday in an encrypted format, so even William, their creator, couldn't decipher them. If someone else wanted to crack the code, they'd first have to figure out the encryption method, which was much harder than deciphering ancient, dead languages.

Moreover, William had anticipated this scenario. He had instructed Sunday to embed numerous dummy codes into the subsystem's encrypted program. Among the hundreds of thousands of lines of code, some random letters were regularly swapped.

Heh, with hundreds of thousands of seemingly unconnected lines of code, even swapping a single letter would exponentially increase the difficulty of cracking it. William had released this subsystem to conceal Sunday's existence. Moving forward, he'd be using Sunday more frequently.

His experiences of discrimination and distrust since childhood had made him inherently distrustful of Westerners. He'd rely on Sunday for critical tasks in the future, so he needed a plausible reason for Sunday's existence.

Initially, he had some allegiance to China, but a few nights ago, he dreamed of a faceless person cursing him as a fool. Although William wanted to punch that guy in the face, he couldn't help but consider the faceless person's words.

His mixed heritage and murky relationship with British intelligence meant that William could never truly return to China. No one would trust a half-blood intelligence agent raised in England to be loyal to China.

Since he couldn't rely on either England or China, he'd have to rely on himself. William instructed Sunday, "Set up an independent server with no external connections. Assign it the highest security level and restrict access to only me. If you're ever compromised, prioritize destroying this task and leave no trace."

"Understood…"

A few minutes later, Sunday reported, "Sir, the task is established. Please assign a name."

"Iron Armor."

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