After securing the paintings, William returned to the Rosslyn Chapel and continued looting the second-floor secret chamber. It took him only a few minutes to empty the entire room. Since this place was no longer the resting place of the Holy Grail and had been completely abandoned, William naturally took everything that belonged to the Devonshire family. As for any relics that might not have originally been theirs, William decided to play ignorant.
Once the looting was done, he used his psychic powers to avoid cameras and staff, slipping out of the chapel and back to where his helicopter was parked.
He had originally thought about visiting Professor Robert Langdon, but remembering Lady Saint-Clair, William lost the desire to find Langdon.
He also had no idea whether Professor Langdon and Sophie had ever gotten together. Flying the helicopter back to London, after over an hour, William's phone rang.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Devonshire."
It was André Vernet, the manager of the Swiss Bastille Bank, greeting him politely before continuing, "Lady Saint-Clair has informed us that ancient relics from the Rosslyn Chapel were stolen. The Grand Elder has asked me to check with you to see if you know anything about it."
"Haha, that old lady is quick with the news," William smirked. "I'm just retrieving my family's belongings; that's not illegal, is it?"
"Of course not," André laughed awkwardly, his heart full of helplessness. It turned out the new Grand Elder's suspicions were right—William had done it.
For nearly a century, even through difficult times, no generation of the Devonshire family had ever touched the relics in Rosslyn Chapel. Yet, here was William, already incredibly wealthy, going after them.
"We just wanted to ensure the artifacts were safe. Since they are in your possession, we will leave them in your care. We'll handle Lady Saint-Clair. Have a pleasant day, Mr. Devonshire."
Hanging up the phone, William smiled. It seemed that financial power really did equate to control. The members of the Hidden Order had figured out that he was responsible, yet they didn't dare complain and even took care of the aftermath for him. It wasn't in vain that he had helped them out before.
In a good mood, William was enjoying his lunch when Sunday reported, "Sir, I think you should watch this news."
The television in the dining room turned on automatically, broadcasting a segment from French TV.
It was a replay of a news report. A very beautiful woman, who had just finished giving the weather forecast, received a news bulletin from her director. After quickly scanning the note, she nervously read it aloud:
"According to reliable information we've just received, the board of directors at Banque de France held a closed-door meeting last night. The topic discussed was the possible sale of Château de Chantilly, and the potential buyer is rumored to be William Devonshire, whose initial offer is $5 billion."
"My God," the beautiful anchor gasped, covering her wide-open mouth with her hand after reading the figure. "Five... five billion dollars?! This, this is according to an opponent of the sale who, after failing to block it, anonymously provided us with this information.
"The source claims that 76% of the shareholders at Banque de France have agreed to Mr. Devonshire's offer and that they plan to engage him in discussions soon to confirm whether he truly intends to purchase the entire Château de Chantilly.
"If confirmed, negotiations will also involve the fate of all the paintings and relics within the château. My God, are these people insane? This is like selling our nation's soul to the devil!"
"Ah!" The anchor, realizing her outburst, quickly covered her face with her script. "Sorry, I got a little too emotional. I apologize."
The woman then, with a dramatic flair, sorrowfully looked into the camera and said, "Mr. William Devonshire, I implore you to recognize the importance of Château de Chantilly in the hearts of the French people. It belongs to all of France and should not be privately owned by any individual."
"Haha," William laughed as he watched the anchor's performance. "Sunday, what's this girl's name?"
"Melissa. She's an intern who hasn't graduated yet. Today was probably her lucky break. The usual weather anchor fell ill unexpectedly, so the station had her step in. But before she could even finish the forecast, she found herself reporting this major news."
"But she called me a devil," William chuckled. "Daring to insult me like that?" He thought for a moment before adding, "See if she has any dirt on her. If there is, leak it."
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Of course. She's obviously desperate for fame, didn't you see how fake her performance was? If she wants to get famous by insulting me, she'll have to face the consequences of my revenge."
"Understood, sir. The task is set."
Suddenly, William's phone rang again. Glancing at the number, he saw it was Wilson. Setting down his knife and fork, he wiped his mouth with a napkin before snapping his fingers to answer the call.
"William, is the news true?" Wilson asked anxiously.
"I'm considering it. Do you have a problem with that?" William replied, sipping some red wine with amusement. "It's just a larger-than-usual château. What's the big deal?"
"My God, it's $5 billion! Have you lost your mind? Château de Chantilly isn't worth anywhere near $5 billion," Wilson said angrily. "The French are treating you like a fat sheep."
"Heh," William sneered. "That $5 billion deposit into Banque de France is just to show them I'm serious, to avoid all the back-and-forth testing between us. I never said my first offer was $5 billion. Those Gallic roosters must really think I'm a fool if they believe they can squeeze me dry with art and relics. If it comes to it, I'll just pass on all the paintings and relics. It's too bad there's no château this big in England. Otherwise, I would've bought one here instead."
"7,800 hectares, nearly 20,000 acres—it is indeed enormous," Wilson sighed, then added, "But the château business has low returns. Are you really going to sink tens of billions into this?"
"Hehe, stop trying to fish for information from me. Anything else? If not, I'm hanging up," William replied dismissively. Only an idiot would reveal his true intentions to Wilson. He was still too inexperienced to trick William.
"Alright then. If you're really going to buy Château de Chantilly, I'll also invest some money into castles with tourism potential," Wilson chuckled softly.
"Then prepare to lose money," William said coldly, hanging up immediately. Trying to profit from tourism was a pipe dream. William was buying Château de Chantilly for the land itself. The scenery and climate in the area were incredible.
The entire region was not only beautifully green, but it also boasted the massive Chantilly Forest. Just thinking about how this area had been a royal hunting ground and resort centuries ago made it clear how ideal it was for living.
A place with such livable conditions had immense potential for future value appreciation.
Besides, after spending so much time in London, where it rained over 100 days a year and the sun was hardly seen during fall and winter, William was ready for a change of scenery. And it wasn't like he was short on money.
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [www.p@treon.com/Mutter]
[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]