For Prime Minister Richard and his cabinet, the first batch of Mars gold was far more than just raw material—it was a symbol of economic and political power.
Even if they didn't fully grasp its significance, they surely had expert advisors who did.
Yet, despite this, Richard had proactively asked William for cash instead of gold.
If William still hadn't realized the reasoning behind this, he'd be a fool.
But unlike some journalists who praised Richard's strategic foresight, William felt no admiration for the man.
It was actually just a simple arithmetic problem.
Rather than haggling over the potential long-term appreciation of 20 tons of gold, Richard and his team were laser-focused on securing 120 tons per month—1,440 tons per year.
Besides, how William paid taxes was entirely up to him.
If he wanted to pay in British pounds, no one could force him to use gold instead.
That said, William did gain a slight amount of respect for Richard's pragmatism.
After all, no one liked dealing with shortsighted, petty individuals.
—
As soon as the press conference ended, William stepped down from the podium and immediately turned to his personal attorney, Anthony.
"If I pay this time in cash, does that mean I'll be legally obligated to continue paying taxes in cash for future Mars shipments?"
"Uh—"
Anthony hesitated for a moment, conferred with his legal team, and then replied,
"Boss, as long as the English government agrees, you can legally switch to paying in gold at any time.
However, if they refuse, it could lead to complications since gold is no longer considered legal tender."
Before William could respond, Abigail confidently wrapped her arms around his and interjected,
"Don't worry, darling. If they refuse, we'll just stop shipping gold and switch to other valuable metals.
We can sell those metals and delay tax payments until the deadline the following year.
Or, as you suggested, we could simply halt Mars flights altogether.
It's not like we need the money—let's see whether we give in first or if the British government crumbles under public pressure."
Anthony and his legal team were left speechless.
Wilson, meanwhile, decided that from now on, he should be extra careful when dealing with Abigail.
Leaning in, he quietly suggested to William,
"There's still plenty of time before tonight's banquet. Why don't we go check on Viscount Cavendish?"
William chuckled.
"And what exactly do you plan to do? If you see something gruesome, you might start talking about human rights, or worse—throw up all over the place."
"I—!"
Being mocked by William was intolerable for Wilson.
His face flushed red as he protested,
"That's impossible! I'm not that weak! Also, can you please not talk about interrogation in public?"
"Haha. You wouldn't say anything, and neither would Anthony or his team, right?"
William turned to Anthony, who simply smiled and shook his head.
"Boss, my team and I are your personal lawyers.
Even if you were planning something questionable, we would simply advise you on the best legal course of action.
Beyond that, law enforcement is not our concern."
"Haha! I like you, Anthony."
Feeling generous, William instinctively reached into his pocket, thinking about giving them some of his custom-made gold coins.
However, before he pulled them out, he suddenly had an idea.
While he had publicly announced his plans for gold coins during the press conference, without a physical product to showcase, the promotional effect would be significantly diminished.
And if he wanted to really capture public interest, he needed something unique—something that would be easy to hype up.
Feigning casualness, he retrieved ten of his earlier experimental 100-gram gold coins from his pocket.
He deliberately tossed them in his palm, letting them clink together with a crisp, melodious sound.
Immediately, several people turned their heads, drawn by the noise.
"Just a little something for you and your team."
As the coins jingled into Anthony's open palm, a small crowd began to gather.
"Devonshire Gold Coins?"
Several people immediately recognized them—noting that they were measured in grams instead of the more common troy ounces.
Anthony casually took five coins for himself and handed one to each of his five subordinates.
Holding the remaining coins up to the light, he examined them closely.
It was then that the onlookers realized these coins were very different from the previously released Devonshire gold coins.
William smirked.
"These are Mars commemorative coins—ones I made myself with some basic equipment while I was on Mars.
If you're not short on money, you might want to keep them.
They should appreciate in value quite nicely."
As soon as he finished speaking, everyone understood that these were likely the rarest Mars gold coins in existence.
A middle-aged journalist in his fifties immediately turned to one of Anthony's subordinates and offered,
"I'll pay $10,000 for your coin. Deal?"
"Not a chance."
The thirty-something lawyer stuffed the coin into his inner pocket and silently mouthed, Idiot.
—
Everyone in the room understood the significance.
If these were truly handmade Mars gold coins—and in limited supply—
then at an auction, they wouldn't just fetch $10,000.
Even a bid of $50,000 would likely be outmatched by one of William's die-hard fans.
And if the design on the coin was unique?
The price would skyrocket even further.
So, despite being mocked, the journalist wasn't offended.
Instead, he turned his attention to Anthony.
"At least let us have a look, Mr. Anthony?"
Anthony glanced at William, who merely shrugged.
These coins were pure gold without any orichalcum alloy enhancement.
Even at their rarest, they might be worth at most $100,000 each.
Reaching prices in the hundreds of thousands or even millions was impossible—unless they were held onto for decades.
So William had no particular attachment to them.
Seeing no objection, Anthony placed one coin into the journalist's hands.
Immediately, those nearby crowded around to get a look.
Within moments, someone gasped.
"My God—this isn't a Devonshire Gold Coin!"
The crowd quickly noted that the obverse side of the coin didn't feature William's portrait.
Instead, it depicted Olympus Mons.
Meanwhile, the reverse side didn't bear the Devonshire family's stag crest.
Instead, it showcased Mars's Valles Marineris canyon system.
That sealed it—these were definitely authentic Mars coins.
"$20,000! Mr. Anthony, I'll pay $20,000 per coin!"
Anthony didn't even acknowledge the journalist.
He simply snatched the coin back and pocketed it.
He wasn't hurting for money—why would he sell these so soon?
Flipping them for profit right in front of William would be incredibly shortsighted.
Besides, offering only $20,000?
Did they think he was an idiot?
After a brief pause, even the journalist realized his mistake.
With a resigned sigh, he turned his hopeful gaze toward William.
If he was going to get one of these coins, he'd have to go straight to the source.
(End of Chapter)
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