Once William issued the order, hundreds of baseball-sized surveillance drones flew out from various parts of the estate, lining up along the perimeter fences. The curious crowd outside watched in awe as the drones hovered silently.
Suddenly, Sunday activated the scanning system. Intense red beams of light swept across the estate's surroundings, startling onlookers and causing many to instinctively back away. Moments later, the faces of anyone deemed a potential threat appeared as holographic projections in the sky above the estate.
Most of the gathered Londoners were there simply to witness the spectacle and began mocking those foolish enough to attempt any trouble. However, despite being a small minority, some individuals resented the estate's seemingly simple yet highly effective security measures.
William didn't care much about public opinion but knew it would be wise to shift attention to a more compelling subject.
"Sunday, discreetly scan the entire crowd. I refuse to believe there aren't at least a few spies or corporate agents among them. Also, contact the local Kensington police station. Let them know that if they don't have officers here maintaining order within five minutes, they can forget about receiving another penny in donations from me. I'll also rally other property owners to petition for a new police precinct."
"Understood, sir."
As Sunday flagged an American with a suspicious profile, several large military trucks arrived outside the estate, carrying nearly a hundred heavily armed soldiers. Within moments, Sunday reported that two helicopters were also en route to the estate.
"The helicopters?" William narrowed his eyes. "Tell them to get lost."
William wasn't concerned about the soldiers on the ground; the estate's defenses were more than capable of handling them. However, helicopters posed a different risk. They could perform aerial reconnaissance, or worse, launch attacks. William didn't need such vulnerabilities, especially since his estate's air defense systems were designed to counter surprise assaults, not rely on external military support.
As soon as the helicopters entered the estate's restricted airspace, their radar systems blared with missile-lock warnings. The alarms sent everyone aboard into a panic.
Fortunately for them, the threat was short-lived. After ten seconds, the alarms ceased, replaced by a barrage of scolding messages from their base command.
The pilots were reprimanded for failing to submit flight plans or properly identify themselves before entering a restricted area. They were also informed that they had narrowly avoided being fired upon by twin Gatling guns, which had already begun preheating.
With no choice but to retreat, the helicopters turned back and reported the incident. The pilots couldn't believe what had happened. "When did Kensington become a no-fly zone?" one of them muttered.
"That doesn't make sense," another pilot added. "We're with the British Special Forces. As long as our mission is approved, we should be able to fly anywhere in the country."
"Quiet!" a commanding voice cut through their comms. "Kensington was declared a restricted zone just before you entered. The request came from Kingsman under the pretext of capturing spies, and the applicant was William Devonshire himself. Understand now?"
The pilots fell silent. They weren't stupid. If William Devonshire was behind the radar lock, there was no mystery left to solve.
"Yes, sir. Looks like we overstepped. Requesting permission to return to base."
"Permission granted," their commanding officer replied. "Leave the ground troops there for now. Given the current circumstances, extra caution around the Devonshire estate isn't unreasonable. Also, as a token of appreciation for our assistance, we've received a sizable fund—enough to cover a month's training budget for the entire air cavalry."
"A whole month's budget?"
"That's got to be at least 500,000 pounds!"
"Please, 500,000 is pocket change to Devonshire. He could earn that by selling a couple of his bulletproof suits."
"Alright, enough chatter. Focus on returning to base and be ready for further deployment."
"Understood, sir."
William watched the virtual projection of the retreating helicopters and the soldiers setting up defensive positions outside his estate. He then turned to Sunday and asked, "I still hold a military rank, don't I?"
"Yes, sir. You're an honorary colonel in the Royal Guards. However, this rank is only applicable within the Guard's jurisdiction."
"I don't care about the technicalities. What matters is that I outrank the commander outside. As head of Kingsman, I'm taking command of those soldiers. Keep a close watch on them."
"Understood, sir."
With that settled, William opened a portal to his facility on Planet X17. "Deploy a team of one hundred fully armed combat robots," he instructed.
A short while later, a hundred combat robots, equipped with weapons and ammunition, lined up in the estate's underground armory. William gave Sunday control over the robots before shifting his focus back to the spaceship currently flying over the Atlantic.
Selene and Nyssa were engrossed in learning the ship's controls, while Lina, Abby, and Jessie had lost their initial excitement. The constant view of the rapidly moving ocean had begun to make them feel seasick. They sat quietly, eyes closed, waiting for the return journey to end.
Seeing this, William redirected his attention to the storage space being transformed by the Space Stone. Over two hours had passed since he had placed the stone inside. What was once a one-cubic-meter space had now expanded to a three-meter cube.
At this rate, it seemed the storage dimension was growing by one meter per hour. In another day and a half, it could theoretically hold a 35-meter-long spaceship. However, one concern remained: could living beings be stored in the space?
"If this space keeps expanding, it'll eventually reach over 8.7 kilometers per side," William mused. "But if I can't store living things, it'll be pretty awkward."
Determined to test his theory, William teleported to his Yellowstone base and summoned Marius, a werewolf imprisoned there. He tried to store Marius in the dimension, but the attempt failed.
"Figures," William muttered. He had anticipated this outcome and wasn't too disappointed. Perhaps the powers of the Reality Stone or Soul Stone would allow for the storage of living beings in the future.
While the Reality Stone had immense potential, William suspected that fully realizing its capabilities—such as turning thoughts into reality—might require the Power Stone as well. Otherwise, anyone with the Reality Stone would be able to reshape the world on a whim, which seemed too implausible.
He recalled how, in the movies, Odin had been wary of keeping both the Space and Reality Stones in Asgard. This was why he entrusted the Reality Stone to the Collector, prompting the Collector to begin searching for the Power Stone.
Though this theory wasn't confirmed, it didn't deter William from pursuing the Reality Stone. The possibilities it held were simply too enticing.
(End of Chapter)
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