After sending Garris away—who refused to let go of the Macallan 1959 bottle—William spent the next few days personally overhauling the defense system of his estate. Not only did he have Sunday build numerous miniature cameras and detectors, but he also instructed it to simplify the design of the Mark armor, modifying twelve robots without flight capabilities.
Six of them were designed as statues, and the other six were styled like medieval armored knights. The statue-like robots were placed throughout the estate, while the knight-like ones were stationed inside the main building as defenders.
Watching the knight robots in the main hall, with their hands crossed over long swords, disguised as medieval knights, Lena shook her head and complained to William, who was proudly showing them off. "We're only two kilometers from Kensington Palace. There hasn't been a single crime in this neighborhood for a year. Aren't you being too paranoid with all these robots? If people find out, it could cause a lot of trouble."
William shrugged, unconcerned. "Mom, as long as nothing happens, they're just decorations—statues and knights. But if something does happen, I'd rather deal with a little trouble than have the estate breached. If it weren't for Sunday telling me there are monitoring stations detecting underground activity nearby, I'd be building an underground fortress. Still, I'm having Sunday renovate the main building's basement and construct a safe room. It'll take about a month."
Lena rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Fine, do what you want. I'm not going to argue anymore," she said, though her expression shifted as she hesitated. "Are you really going to Stamford Bridge tomorrow?"
"Don't worry, Mom. I've owned the team for a while now, and tomorrow is a match against Manchester United. Of course I need to be there. I'll also hold a press conference to announce some things that have been decided over the past few days."
"Aren't you afraid the team might lose and embarrass you?" Lena finally voiced her concern after a long pause. "I'm worried some of the players might intentionally throw the game to make you look bad."
"Heh, that's exactly what I'm hoping for. If it weren't for the backlash from the fans and the fact that the season has already started over a month ago, I would've started cleaning house already. Just seeing Ranieri makes me think Chelsea will always be a second-rate team."
"But isn't Ranieri better than that guy Mourinho?" Lena asked, pulling William aside, dissatisfied. "If you don't like Ranieri, we can always hire a coach you do like."
"We'll talk about that after tomorrow, Mom. Who knows? Maybe Ranieri is determined to win against Manchester United just to prove me wrong."
The next day at 2 p.m., William arrived early at Stamford Bridge. It was his first time setting foot inside the stadium, even though Lena had been a die-hard Chelsea fan for years. Despite this, William had never once attended a game.
After parking his car, he saw Anthony leading a dozen of his men and Chelsea's new team manager, Kenny.
As William's car came to a stop, Anthony approached to open the door, his face full of smiles. "Good afternoon, Boss."
"Good afternoon, Anthony," William replied, glancing at Anthony's sharply dressed men standing about five or six meters away. "Looks like you're doing well at the agency."
"Haha, thanks to you, Boss. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to afford so many men," Anthony chuckled softly.
William smiled, then turned his attention to Kenny, who was standing nearby, waiting.
Kenny quickly stepped forward and extended his hand. "Good afternoon, Mr. Devonshire. I'm Kenny Jackson, the current manager of Chelsea."
"Hello, Mr. Jackson," William shook his hand. "Thank you for joining Chelsea. Now, why don't you give me a tour of the stadium? Honestly, it's my first time here."
"Of course, Boss. Right this way," Kenny said, gesturing for William to follow as he led him around Stamford Bridge. After a whirlwind tour lasting over forty minutes, they reached the home team's locker room. William shook his head at Kenny. "That's enough for today. You can get back to work."
"Understood, Boss." Noting William's complete disinterest in entering the locker room—and recalling the rumors that William strongly disliked Ranieri—Kenny watched William step into the elevator and shook his head. It seemed the rumors were true, and Kenny couldn't help but feel sorry for Ranieri.
Since taking over Chelsea in August, Ranieri had performed quite well. His dedication and professionalism had earned him the trust of the team, but sadly, no amount of hard work would matter if the owner didn't like him.
Thinking about Mourinho, whom he had met earlier—a man even younger than himself—Kenny sighed once again.
Anthony escorted William to the stadium's VIP suite. Not long after they sat down, William's face appeared on the stadium's big screen, prompting a roar of cheers from the Chelsea fans.
All around the stadium, Chelsea supporters stood up, waving and shouting William's name. William stood, walked to the glass wall, and waved to the crowd, causing the cheers to grow even louder.
After a few minutes of acknowledging the fans, William returned to his seat and asked Anthony, "Has Mourinho arrived?"
"He has, sitting in the first row right behind the home team's bench."
"Hmm, didn't we arrange a private box for him?"
"Boss, he requested to observe the players up close," Anthony said with a grin.
William chuckled knowingly. "Observing the players? More like observing Ranieri, I bet. Never mind, let's leave him be for now. What about Duke Nishimori and the guests from the Heavenly Empire?"
"They're settled in the two suites next to yours."
"Good. Please invite Duke Nishimori over."
"Right away, Boss."
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. William personally walked over to open it, greeting Duke Nishimori with a warm handshake. After exchanging pleasantries, they sat down together. Nishimori, with a hint of envy, remarked, "You've got a good eye. I heard that after news of our land swap deal leaked, Chelsea's valuation increased by over £100 million?"
William smiled, amused by the duke's apparent discomfort. The deal hadn't even been finalized yet, and he was already envious of William's profits. "I owe it all to you, Nishimori."
He raised his glass and clinked it with Nishimori's. "Why don't you buy a team too? Let me give you a heads-up: London football clubs are a scarce resource. As long as they perform well, their value can increase by 30% a year without any trouble."
"No way. The banks aren't offering loans right now, and I'm not like you—I don't have that much cash on hand to buy a team," Nishimori said, shaking his head. "I've already acquired 10% of England Electric. When should we sign the contract?"
"So quickly?" William asked, surprised. When Nishimori nodded affirmatively, William smiled and said, "We can sign anytime, but it's best if we coordinate with King Philip."
"I'm already prepared. He must be even more ready than I am. Didn't Philip call you?" Nishimori asked with a peculiar smile.
William grinned but remained silent. He understood that Philip likely wanted to buy more shares of England Electric, taking advantage of William's moves to secure a bigger profit for himself.
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