Billionaire in Kingsman with a Marvel System

As William walked back with Craig, he decided not to take him to the castle but instead headed to the medical room in the stables. He pulled the on-duty veterinarian aside and quietly asked for a bottle of anesthetic spray. The veterinarian didn't ask too many questions, just emphasized several times that the anesthetic spray shouldn't be overused before happily heading home after William gave him the night off.

Entering the medical room, William tossed the anesthetic spray to Craig. "Take off your shirt."

Craig looked at the bottle in his hand, and when he realized what it was, he exclaimed, "Damn it, are you trying to kill me? This is meant for horses!"

"You're not an idiot; you know to only take a few whiffs. You should have notified me before you came. Now we can only make do with this. The surgery won't take long anyway. Just think of it as taking a nap, and by tomorrow morning, you'll be fine," William said with a grin.

"I suddenly don't feel like getting the surgery here. Maybe I should go back to the Special Operations Office," Craig hesitated, holding the anesthetic spray.

"Suit yourself. That'll save me half a million. Good riddance," William replied, pointing to the door of the medical room. "Close the door on your way out. Thanks."

Whether it was because Craig didn't want his colleagues at the Special Operations Office to see him in his current state or because he truly trusted William, Craig hesitated for a few seconds before opening the spray bottle and taking several deep breaths of the anesthetic. 'Pssst, pssst.'

"If I end up disabled, I'll stay here and freeload off you," Craig mumbled before collapsing onto the medical bed, already drowsy.

William smiled as he looked at the unconscious Craig. He took a lab coat and draped it over the camera to block the lens. After scanning the entire medical room with his mental power and ensuring there were no issues, he extended his hand and used his telekinesis to lift Craig, laying him flat on the medical bed.

Assessing Craig's condition, William found two unhealed wounds. One was a large wound, likely caused by a rifle shot that had lodged a bullet in his scapula. Fortunately, the bone was unharmed. The other wound was smaller, probably caused by a stray bullet. This wound had nearly healed, but it was more problematic because it contained numerous bullet fragments.

After confirming the nature of the injuries, the next steps were simple. William controlled a surgical knife to cut open Craig's shirt, exposing the two wounds. He then used his telekinesis to extract the bullet and fragments from the wounds. Finally, he cast a healing spell on Craig.

Soon, the wounds began to heal. After a few seconds, the smaller wound was nearly closed, but the larger wound from the rifle was healing too slowly for William's liking. He cast another healing spell, and this time, the wound healed at a visibly rapid pace.

With the wounds taken care of, William wrapped the extracted bullet fragments and deformed bullet in his telekinesis and brought them close to his eyes, admiring Craig's toughness.

Metallic fragments embedded in the body would cause constant pain, even if the surface wounds healed. Whenever Craig exerted pressure on his arm or the wounds were touched, the fragments would tear the muscle tissue again. It would take years for the body to form enough scar tissue around the fragments to reduce the pain, but it would never disappear entirely.

Looking at the unconscious Craig, William silently praised him for his resilience. The man had endured the constant pain, leaving the fragments in his body, waiting for the right time to have them removed.

William rinsed the bullet fragments and deformed bullet in the sink, placed them in a bag, and covered Craig with a blanket. Finally, he took Craig's phone and dialed his own number, then removed the lab coat covering the camera.

"Sunday, notify me when Craig wakes up."

"Understood, sir."

William left the stables and returned to the castle basement. Over the past few days, he had been ordering instruments and equipment. The basement, except for the sealed server room, was beginning to look like a laboratory.

William used the equipment to scan the bullet fragments and said to Sunday, "Sunday, analyze these bullet fragments and then log into my account at the Special Operations Office. See if you can find out who has used this type of bullet before."

A few moments later, Sunday replied, "Sir, analysis shows that the fragments are made of depleted uranium. Seven individuals in the database have used this type of bullet."

As Sunday's projection displayed photos on the wall, William quickly recognized one of the individuals. "The first one on the second row."

Sunday removed the other photos, leaving only the suspect's image on the wall. "Sir, the Special Operations Office database identifies this man as Patrice. He's a ghost with no known nationality. To access more specific information, I would need your authorization to enter some of the global special access databases."

"No," William immediately refused, not wanting to trigger any unintended consequences by searching without a clear goal. "Keep an eye on the Golden Dragon Hotel in the capital city of Asia. Bug the hotel manager, Severine. I want to know everything about her. Also, closely monitor airports, train stations, and hotels, especially in Singapore. Patrice might be heading there soon."

While he doubted he would get much useful information from spying on someone under tight control, it was worth a try. For Sunday, this was a simple task. "Send Patrice's details to Brian Mills and ask him to use his contacts to help track him down."

"Data transmission complete, sir."

About twenty minutes later, William's phone rang. Seeing it was Brian, he answered. "Good afternoon, Brian. Did you find something so quickly?"

"Haha, it's evening over there, isn't it? So I should say good evening. Good evening, boss," Brian replied, joking for a change.

Hearing that Brian was in a good mood, William didn't rush to ask about Patrice. "You seem to be in high spirits lately. Anything good you'd like to share?"

"Yes, actually. Kim and her mother have agreed to go on a trip next month. The only trouble is we haven't decided where to go. Boss, do you have any suggestions?"

"Hmm, a trip?" William's mind raced. "It doesn't matter where you go, right? It's probably Kim and her mother who can't agree, which is why you're struggling. Where does Kim want to go?"

Brian sighed. "Boss, you're still as sharp as ever. You hit the nail on the head. Kim wants to go to Istanbul, but her mother thinks it might be too troublesome there and wants to go to Budapest instead. But I'm having second thoughts. You know why."

William understood perfectly. Both cities had significant Albanian connections. "If it were up to me, I'd avoid both Istanbul and Budapest. Both cities have strong Albanian ties. But if you're looking to rekindle something with your ex, maybe you could play the hero and save the day."

"Definitely not," Brian quickly rejected the idea. "Even if I have those feelings, I wouldn't put Kim and her mother in danger. Maybe Brazil or China would be good options. I've heard China has excellent security. I'll try to convince Kim and Lenore to change their plans."

"Good. Even though the Albanian kingpins in Paris were taken out, it's still better to be cautious. You know how Albanians hold grudges."

"Understood. Thanks. I'll be careful. As for Patrice, he's linked to a bombing at a small South American embassy. The U.S. Special Operations Office has already tracked his movements. I'll let you know if I get any more concrete information."

"OK, enjoy your trip."

"Thanks. Goodbye, boss."

"Bye."

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