Billionaire in Kingsman with a Marvel System

The next morning, as soon as William woke up, Sunday reported that the printing equipment and the location he ordered were ready. 

Given the large quantity of prop money needed for his plan, Sunday suggested that William personally load the paper and ink into the printing equipment to maintain confidentiality. After a brief consideration, William agreed to Sunday's proposal. After finishing his breakfast, he rode his Ducati R6 to the rented location.

The printing equipment had already been set up and was just waiting for William to prepare the ink, according to the formula Sunday found online, and load the paper. The prop money printed would resemble real currency about 70% of the time. After burning it, even experts wouldn't be able to tell it apart from genuine currency.

Following Sunday's instructions, William spent two days in the printing warehouse, using his mental power to move paper into the input tray every half hour while the machines continuously printed prop money.

Late on the second night, while handling the last batch of printed prop money, William's phone rang. With a snap of his fingers, Sunday reported through his earpiece, "Sir, the call is from Mr. Robert McCall."

"Hmm? Why would that old man McCall be calling me?" William asked Sunday, puzzled. "Tell me what McCall has been up to these past two days."

"Sir, Mr. McCall just left the hospital tonight and then made this call to you."

"Hospital?" William thought for a moment before it clicked. "Did Alina end up in the hospital?"

"Yes, sir. You didn't instruct me to monitor Miss Alina, so I only found out from the hospital records. Miss Alina was brought to the hospital by her companions at around 3 AM yesterday. The exact cause of her injuries is unknown, but her condition was severe—her head, body, and face suffered heavy blows, likely from being beaten. Fortunately, she regained consciousness at 2 PM today and is no longer in danger.

At 9:05 PM, Mr. McCall visited the hospital after learning from the restaurant owner, Mr. Jacob, that Miss Alina had been admitted. However, McCall did not see Alina directly. Instead, he learned from her companions about why she was beaten and the miserable situation of the girls controlled by the gang. After leaving the hospital, he called you, sir. In five seconds, the call will automatically disconnect. Shall I answer it for you?"

"Heh, go ahead and answer it," William said, curious about why McCall was calling. He wondered why McCall wasn't on his way to buy Alina's freedom from the Russian mobster Slavy, getting rejected and then taking down Slavy and his four thugs as he expected.

The call connected. "Hmm, this is William Devonshire. Who is this?" William pretended to sound groggy as he answered.

"Hello, Mr. Devonshire, this is Robert McCall. I'm sorry to disturb you so late," McCall said, his tone much more cautious than it had been a few days ago. "I wanted to ask if the job you mentioned the other day is still available. I've thought it over, and I feel that rather than rotting away like a useless old man, I'd prefer to move to Oxford and do something meaningful. Although I'm older now, I have extensive experience in security, and I promise I can manage the safety of your castle town and ensure that no one disturbs your castle or your mother's life."

"I see," William responded after deliberately pausing for a moment. "The position is still available, but I'm not sure you can really handle maintaining the security of a small town. To be fair to the town's residents, I'll need you to prove your abilities before I can offer you the job."

"I understand," McCall replied, knowing full well that this "test" wasn't going to be anything ordinary. It was clear that William wanted to see if McCall still had the ability to kill and, more importantly, whether he was willing to kill. After a long pause, McCall said, "I understand. But I have a request. Before I can move to Oxford with peace of mind, I need to take care of some loose ends here. Would it be possible for the man with the mid-length hair outside the restaurant the other night to assist me? It would allow him to evaluate my skills while helping me wrap things up more quickly so I can start working for you sooner."

"Heh, McCall, I don't believe you didn't notice that he's a hitman, not a bodyguard," William chuckled. "And I know what you want to do, but do you really think I'd risk getting on the bad side of the Russian mob just for you? We both know that if you go after those guys, they'll never stop hunting you and everyone you care about. So tell me, McCall, what are you offering in return for the potential risk to me?"

This time, McCall didn't hesitate. "My life and the rest of my days."

William sighed and asked, "Is it worth it? For a girl you barely know, who's been under the thumb of the mob her whole life? Even if you save her today, when the Russians find her again, she might sell you out without a second thought just to save her own skin."

After a long silence, McCall sighed as well. "I don't know why, Mr. Devonshire, but ever since my wife passed away, I've felt lost. But when I saw Alina beaten nearly to death, I felt like I had found my purpose again. My new goal is to use the skills I've learned to punish the wrongs I see and hear about. And most importantly, dealing with scum is what I do best. My life experiences have equipped me to help those who have no one else to turn to."

Damn, William cursed inwardly. This damned do-gooder mentality—how much of a sense of justice does McCall have to still be thinking about fighting injustice after all these years of retirement?

It seemed that McCall was a man who, despite appearing outwardly calm, had a deeply restless nature. After too many years of retirement and boredom, he was itching to get back into action, to stop himself from feeling useless.

But McCall's sense of justice was different from that of people like Sophie and Professor Langdon, whom William had encountered in Paris. While McCall was driven by a desire for justice, he had no qualms about using lethal force to deal with scumbags.

This approach aligned somewhat with William's belief in eliminating threats completely, which made him appreciate McCall's methods. Although William didn't share McCall's strong sense of justice, he did admire his willingness to do what was necessary, even if it meant using lethal force.

So, William laughed heartily. "Good, I like you, McCall. I like people who have principles but aren't afraid to get their hands dirty. Congratulations, you're hired. You'll have a one-year probationary period. If you impress me, I'll give you a big surprise and an additional part-time job that suits you perfectly. Goodbye. Someone will come to find you tomorrow night to tell you what to do. One last thing—today's girl and Alina are no longer safe. If you don't want to regret it, you'd better hide them somewhere. Do you need my help?"

"Yes, Mr. Devonshire, thank you for the reminder. I was already worried about their safety, which is why I reached out to you. I'd appreciate your assistance. Thank you, and goodbye."

"Mm, goodbye."

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