Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet

After being chased all day and narrowly escaping death several times, Benjamin and Banning were eager to go after everyone involved in the ordeal. While in the car headed to the command center, William explained his plan to Benjamin, Banning, and their driver, Barney. Banning asked several questions, and upon confirming that Benjamin would be safe, he agreed to help William put on a show.

Now everything had gone exactly as William had promised. Benjamin was indeed safe and would soon be able to leave the powder keg that was London. This immediately elevated William's status in Banning's eyes as someone trustworthy. He pulled out a shiny silver CZ83 pistol from his underarm holster and handed it to William.

"This was the personal weapon of my superior, Special Operations Director Lynn Jacobs. She died on the Navy One crash. Unfortunately, I have to escort the Secretary out of here and can't avenge her myself. So, buddy, if you get the chance, use this gun to take down Bakawi and his family."

Only someone like Banning, who had saved his superior numerous times, would dare say this in front of Benjamin. Seeing Benjamin turn away as if he hadn't heard, William reached out and took the gun, thinking to himself how popular the CZ83 was among the older generation. He nodded and said, "No problem. If circumstances allow, I'll help you fulfill your wish."

Banning, simple-minded as he was, didn't catch the nuance in William's words. He thanked him happily, "I thank you on Lynn's behalf, William."

After they finished speaking, Harry reminded them, "Gentlemen, although I believe this place is quite secure, it's still best if you leave as soon as possible to avoid any unforeseen risks."

"Agreed," Banning nodded, shaking hands with William and Harry, before he and Benjamin boarded the plane.

As the cabin door was about to close, both waved goodbye to William and Harry once more.

Watching the plane take off, quickly ascending and fading into the sky, William exhaled a sigh of relief and said to Harry, "Finally, I've gotten rid of that troublemaker, and half of my payment is safe. If you want to have that drink, you'd better find me soon; otherwise, I'll likely be off to the castle or on vacation in Brazil."

"No problem; I'll look you up as soon as this is over," Harry replied, nodding.

William then drove one of the Academy's vehicles to a hidden location, abandoned it, and used a portal to return to the basement of his own estate.

After a quick shower, he changed into pajamas and lay on the couch, watching the 3D holographic display of the ongoing battle.

With five to six hundred spider robots and Black Blade drones monitoring a two-kilometer radius around the command center, Sunday had a complete "God's eye view" of the situation.

The fight had been ongoing for only about twenty minutes, but the anti-terrorism unit guarding the building had not only held their position, eliminating dozens of attackers, but had suffered no losses other than two people hit by stray bullets. This impressive performance led everyone involved in the battle to implicitly follow Sunday's commands, feeling grateful and respectful toward William, as Sunday used William's voice for all orders.

After being pushed back in two waves and losing dozens of men, the terrorists and mercenaries finally slowed their assault. Seeing this, Sunday immediately directed a squad of the 22nd Airborne Division lying in ambush outside to move in, dividing them into four combat teams to launch counterattacks from the rear and sides of the terrorists.

With their numbers already diminished, and now under attack from behind, several mercenaries quickly fled.

As some began to retreat, the remaining attackers lost much of their will to fight. According to Sunday's projections, the battle at the command center would likely wrap up soon.

Meanwhile, twelve helicopters carrying ninety-six SAS operatives were dispatched by Sunday to target the abandoned building where Bakawi's two sons were hiding.

Aware that there were Stinger missiles in the building, Sunday rejected the SAS leader's proposal to rappel directly from the rooftop. Instead, he had all personnel land safely away from the building and divided them into twelve combat teams to encircle the building from all directions, advancing carefully based on intelligence provided by Sunday.

In thirty minutes, they silently cleared all exterior guards and ambushes without any casualties, securing advantageous positions before initiating a full assault on Bakawi's stronghold.

As the battle erupted, snipers on the ground and teams monitoring every window took out anyone who might fire a Stinger missile. Meanwhile, the twelve helicopters that had pinpointed the enemy's positions approached and launched a barrage of missiles at the building.

In an instant, the entire structure was engulfed in explosions.

If not for some British elites hoping to capture members of the Bakawi family alive—or the fact that some individuals were angling for recognition amid the smooth assault—the twelve helicopters could have easily razed the entire building with their onboard missiles alone.

When someone overrode Sunday to issue direct commands, clearly aiming for credit, William smirked and instructed Sunday to hand over command.

After all, accolades often required a contrast to stand out.

Since Sunday, disguised as William, had successfully directed two zero-casualty battles, William doubted anyone could match Sunday's ability to monitor all threats and firing points.

Sure enough, as William had expected, after relinquishing command, the SAS suffered casualties not long after entering the building.

Despite their elite status, the SAS operatives had grown accustomed to relying on the God's eye view and were now back in conventional mode, leaving them unprepared for the transition.

Under the terrorists' desperate counterattack, casualties inevitably started to mount. The further they progressed upstairs, the higher the toll became.

Fortunately, the terrorists inside were scattered across various floors and, after the bombardment, were unable to mount an organized resistance. Instead, they could only defend in small groups from hallways and rooms.

After a grueling half-hour of close-quarters combat, the SAS operatives, at the cost of over twenty lives, finally reached the building's penultimate floor, where they encountered another fierce resistance.

Hearing the approaching gunfire, Amir Bakawi's son, Amur, gripped the detonator and gave his final farewell to his father, Amir, who was in Colombia. "Father, the Bakawi family's revenge isn't over. You must survive."

With a fierce look in his eyes, Amir Bakawi nodded reluctantly and said, "Don't worry. I won't rest until I've eliminated Benjamin Arthur, Michael Banning—who murdered your brother Zala—and William Devonshire, who foiled our plans. The Bakawi family's vengeance knows no end."

Watching the scene unfold, William suddenly asked Sunday, "Can you disable the detonator?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then disable it, and save this video for the Americans and British. It might come in handy," William ordered, squinting thoughtfully.

After exchanging their final words, Amur Bakawi, hearing the gunfire draw closer, pressed the detonator in his hand.

Click.

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