Bab 11: Chapter 11: My Name Is James Bond
William's intuition was still sharp. He sensed that something bad was about to happen to him. What he didn't expect was that following his instincts to rectify the situation would lead him straight into the waiting arms of Claudio and John at the hotel entrance.
"Quick, quick, John! That young man coming out is William Devonshire. It's him! Start taking pictures," Claudio urged. The moment they saw William stepping out of the hotel with his entourage, John, who was ready, immediately began snapping photos rapidly.
As soon as William walked out of the hotel, he felt someone's gaze on him. Turning his head, he saw two paparazzi hiding behind the flower bed, one of them snapping pictures non-stop.
Caught off guard, William's brow furrowed. At that moment, he was already in a bad mood and instinctively wanted to cast an ice spell to freeze the paparazzo, preventing him from running away. But as he raised his hand, he realized he couldn't use magic at the hotel entrance in broad daylight.
So, he turned the gesture into a wave and smiled at the paparazzi instead.
Anthony, who was with William, saw the paparazzi and shouted, "Who are you? No photos!" He then instructed his interns to go stop the paparazzi and demand the photos.
But John and Claudio, being experienced paparazzi and a former special forces operative, recognized the danger immediately. They bolted, sprinting across the street to a car and speeding away, not wanting to get entangled with the lawyer.
Their swift escape left William stunned. The paparazzi's professionalism and quick response were impressive. "I just wanted to say hi and offer to buy the photos back," he thought. With the paparazzi gone, his chance to settle things with money vanished.
Unbeknownst to William, everything he had said in the conference room that morning had been recorded. If he had known, he would have been furious at the Hilton Hotel. But it wasn't until the next morning that he found out.
Seeing the paparazzi flee, William turned to Anthony and said, "The paparazzi have noticed me. Anthony, we need to speed things up. We need to handle the company shares matter this afternoon."
Anthony thought for a moment and then said, "Mr. Devonshire, we can buy a pre-registered company in the British Virgin Islands. It'll cost a bit, but we can get it done in an hour or two."
William immediately decided, "Alright, let's do that."
"Follow me, Mr. Devonshire," Anthony said, leading William to a business car that took them straight to the England Companies Registry.
Half an hour later, at the Companies Registry, William spent £10,000 to buy an offshore company in the British Virgin Islands. He transferred 60% of Devonshire Industries' shares to this offshore company. He then instructed Anthony to help him register five more offshore companies, planning to distribute the 60% shares among them, each holding between 8% and 12%.
Going forward, he planned to handle his other companies similarly. In the year 2000, England couldn't tax its citizens globally like the US could. This way, William could save more than half of his taxes.
England's tax system was primarily based on English bank accounts. Funds that didn't enter England were beyond the government's reach.
As he sat idly in the registry, William wondered what to do with the £100 million once he had it. He recalled stories from his past life about companies like Alibaba, Tencent, and the gaming company NetEase, known for their immense value increase over time.
"Maybe after the Nasdaq crash, I could buy some NetEase stocks. They were as low as $0.58 per share at one point. Holding onto them for a decade could yield over a thousandfold profit, outperforming Alibaba and Tencent. Tencent's market cap was under HKD 5 billion in 2004. Investing £10 million could be worth £8 billion after a decade. That would be like picking up money.
"Reincarnation is indeed advantageous. If I don't take advantage of this, I'd be letting myself down.
"As for Alibaba, there might not be many opportunities now. But if Yahoo pulls out in a few years, there might be a chance. However, as an Englishman, I don't know if Alibaba would be interested in me."
After sitting for a few hours and signing numerous documents, the registration of the companies and transfer of shares were finally completed by 4 PM. Now, Devonshire Industries was no longer an English resident company, meaning the English government couldn't tax his offshore company.
Thinking about saving one or two million pounds in taxes, William happily took Anthony and his team out for a lavish dinner at a Michelin three-star restaurant in London.
After dinner, which William found less filling than expected, he realized he was still a bit of a country bumpkin. Despite soon becoming a billionaire, he still had his old habits.
After dinner, Anthony dropped William back at the Hilton Hotel and headed back to the law firm with his colleagues. He had numerous documents to prepare for the negotiations in three days. While the main terms were set by William, the details would require extensive discussions, and these negotiations often took several days.
Back in his hotel room, William watched TV out of boredom. With nothing interesting on and fearing hidden cameras, he didn't practice magic in the room. He didn't need to practice anyway, thanks to his system, which automatically improved his magic and mental strength.
He decided to head to the hotel bar, thinking a drink might help him sleep better.
Led by a waiter, William sat at the bar and ordered an Irish whiskey. Alone, he sipped his drink while watching the Premier League match.
Chelsea was playing against Newcastle. This was before Abramovich's era in 2003, with Bates still the club chairman. Although Bates had saved Chelsea 20 years ago, he wasn't well-liked among fans now, as he often sold star players for high prices, treating the club more like a business.
William didn't recognize most of the players on the field and found the match boring. As a football novice, he was just passing the time.
"Who do you support, young man?" came a voice beside him. Turning, William saw a handsome middle-aged man holding a whiskey and raising his glass in a friendly gesture.
William thought the man looked familiar. "Isn't this Pierce Brosnan, the guy who played James Bond? Is he talking to me?" William wondered, unsure.
"Hey, young man, it's rude to stare," Brosnan said, slightly annoyed.
"Sorry, sir. You just look very familiar. My apologies. I'm William Devonshire. Nice to meet you," William said, still uncertain.
"Well, perhaps you have seen me before. Hello, young man. I'm James Bond. Nice to meet you," the man said in a gentlemanly manner, speaking with a perfect London accent, which puzzled William even more.
William knew Brosnan was Irish, and speaking with such a perfect London accent wasn't common unless you were a native. "Did he just say his name is James Bond? Pierce, are you kidding me? This role-playing has gone too far."
Seeing William's prolonged silence, Brosnan seemed displeased. "Hey, young man, this is the second time I'm telling you it's rude to stare. If you don't want to talk, I'll leave you alone," he said, turning away to drink his whiskey.
"Sorry, Mr. Brosnan. I didn't recognize you at first. Let me buy you a drink to apologize," William said, signaling the bartender for two more whiskeys and pushing one toward Brosnan.
"Alright, young man, I accept your apology. But my name is James Bond. Didn't I make that clear? Or do you know someone who looks like me named Pierce?" Brosnan said, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't joke around. Everyone knows you're the Hollywood star Pierce Brosnan. This joke isn't funny," William replied, rolling his eyes.
"No, I don't know who this Hollywood star you speak of is, but my name is James Bond. Perhaps I should look into this Pierce fellow who makes you look like you've seen a ghost," Brosnan said, finishing his drink and standing up.
"Until we meet again, young man. I hope you remember my name next time and don't mistake me for someone else. Goodnight," he said, adjusting his suit and leaving the bar.
William watched in stunned silence as Brosnan walked out. "Damn, this guy is really into his role. He even acts like James Bond. Is he always like this? Do celebrities have such strange quirks?"
But in his mind, William had forgotten that this world wasn't his past life. In this world, anything was possible.
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Bab 12: Chapter 12: Being Watched
William didn't pay much attention to Pierce's joke. He leisurely drank at the bar until the Chelsea vs. Newcastle match ended. Finishing the last bit of his whiskey, he paid and headed back to his hotel room.
After a shower, he reflected on the day's encounter with Pierce Brosnan. It was a bit strange, but it was just a quirk of a big star, calling himself by his movie character's name. It didn't affect him, though he regretted not getting an autograph.
Turning on the hotel computer, he searched for Pierce Brosnan to see what the actor was doing in London.
To his surprise, he found several people named Pierce Brosnan online, but none matched the man he met at the bar.
How could this be? Pierce Brosnan was a big star, so why couldn't he find anything?
As William was about to search for "007," a sharp sensation hit his brain, causing his hand to jerk away from the keyboard. His mental alertness was signaling danger.
Standing up suddenly, he scanned the hotel room and the building across the street with his mental power. As an elementary mage, his mental power could sense up to nearly 30 meters.
His room was on the 12th floor of the Hilton, and the opposite building wasn't even half his room's height. Scanning the building, he didn't sense anyone watching him. The sixth floor couldn't possibly monitor the twelfth floor.
After scanning the hotel corridor, he found nothing suspicious. William was puzzled. Why did his mental alertness suddenly warn him of danger?
Thinking carefully, he realized the warning came when he was about to type "007." Recalling the man in the bar who insisted he was James Bond and not Pierce Brosnan, it all clicked. This wasn't his past world. If that man was indeed James Bond, then his room must be under surveillance.
Convinced that his computer was compromised, William scanned his room thoroughly again. Fortunately, there were no cameras; technology in 2000 hadn't advanced to make cameras as tiny as they would be later. However, he did find a bug in the hotel phone.
Realizing he was indeed being monitored, William's mind raced to recall where he might have slipped up. After a long contemplation, he suspected it could only be the few times he practiced magic in his dorm. Fortunately, his cautious nature and the help of his system, which taught him magic without much practice, minimized the risk of exposure.
Scanning his room one last time, he found no additional bugs or cameras. Drawing the curtains, he scanned the corridor and nearby rooms. Finding nothing suspicious, he put on his coat and left the room, heading for the stairs.
He avoided the elevator, knowing better than to use it. Besides, hotels in this era weren't yet generous with cameras everywhere. He walked down the stairs, scanning each floor with his mental power.
By the time he reached the fourth floor, he hadn't found anything unusual. The hotel was relatively empty during this off-season. Several floors had no occupants, and others had nothing suspicious.
On the fourth floor, his mental power detected a delivery van parked beside the hotel. Why would a delivery van be there so late? Something was off. It reminded him of scenes from spy movies where agents monitored targets from such vans.
Descending to the second floor, he stopped. On the side facing the delivery van, he used Mage Hand to open a utility room. Carefully opening the window, he tried to eavesdrop but could only catch faint sounds. He needed a better way. Searching his memory for a solution, he found it.
He extended his mental power, simulating a stethoscope, pressing it against the van's glass. Now he could hear clearly.
For ten minutes, he heard nothing useful, just mundane chatter. Then, finally, something interesting:
"Pete, is this guy asleep or what? It's been over an hour with no movement."
"Who cares if he's asleep? Why are we even monitoring this guy? He's just a regular university student. What's so special about him?"
"Hey, you don't know?"
"Know what? Is there something about this guy?"
"I don't know much, but apparently, he's been on our watch list for years. Nothing special was found before, so he was off our radar until recently. Now he's caused some stir, so we're back on him. I heard from the daytime listening team that he was in a hotel conference room this morning, pitching a game for £100 million. That fat Richard from the shift change looked like he was going to explode. He's been watching William Devonshire for years. If he had bought the game when it was first made, he'd be rich now. Too bad he didn't, and now he's missing out."
"A hundred million? For a game? You've got to be kidding."
"Something called Plants vs. Zombies. I don't get it either."
"Wait, Plants vs. Zombies? I know that game. I even played it. So, this guy made it? But how can it be worth £100 million?"
"No idea."
After a pause, one of them sighed. "I just reviewed his file. Nothing special. Single mother, raised in London, good student, won many awards, no girlfriend, always in the library or dorm. How can someone like this be worth monitoring? And he's so handsome, too. No girlfriend? Weird. But what's that to MI6?"
"Idiot, didn't you see the last part?"
"Yeah, I saw it. What's the big deal?"
"This guy made the game by himself in less than a month. Designed, programmed, even drew the characters. Network security folks at the office said it would take them months to do it, even if they knew the design. This guy did it solo in half a month."
"This guy's that good? No wonder he's back on the radar."
"Yeah, that's why we're here. And don't you see? Bond himself came to check him out. No idea what Bond concluded."
"But he's a mixed-blood. He's part Chinese."
"Get with the times, Pete. That's racial discrimination."
"NO, NO, I'm not racist. My girlfriend's black. Do you think I'm racist?"
"Who knows? With you, any pretty girl is fair game. You change girlfriends every few months."
"Screw you. I want a stable relationship too, but you never know when you're called on a mission for months. It's not like I want this."
"I think you like changing girls."
"Bastard, you're slandering me."
Just then, a phone vibrated in the van. One man answered and said, "Someone's coming to relieve us. Bond's back and wants a report."
"Great. I can finally get some sleep. I was up till 1 AM and got called in before 6 AM."
"Haha, you slept at your girlfriend's. Didn't she wear you out?"
"Screw you. I'll punch you."
Hearing them bicker, William waited another half hour but learned nothing new. Quietly, he returned to his room.
Back in his room, William sighed with relief. At least they hadn't discovered his magic. Otherwise, there wouldn't be just two people monitoring him.
However, he couldn't understand why Bond had approached him up close.
For years, especially after his grandparents passed, William had sensed someone watching him and his mother. Now, hearing MI6, he understood that something his grandfather had or knew was of interest to them.
But then he shook his head. Intelligence agencies wouldn't hesitate to use force if they wanted something badly. They wouldn't just monitor for nearly a decade. Perhaps it was important but not an immediate threat.
Or maybe someone was also protecting him while he was under surveillance.
Shivering at the thought, William decided to act as if he knew nothing. With the game deal nearing, he didn't want to cause trouble.
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