Billionaire in Kingsman with a Marvel System

With the aid of magic as a cheat, William no longer worried about his stable not producing champion horses. His main concern was controlling the extent of the magic's enhancement on the horses' physical attributes and the number of champion horses.

A 5% or 10% improvement was manageable, but if there were sudden increases of 20% or 50%, any horse could break the 2-minute world record for a 2000-meter dirt race, and that would be impossible to explain.

Therefore, William decided that the primary task for his stable was not just finding and training racehorses but breeding more blood-sweating horses. Firstly, each additional blood-sweating horse meant more money. Secondly, with a larger number of horses, one or two champions among hundreds of good horses wouldn't be so conspicuous.

Currently, the task of building the stable's reputation rested on Chitu. William had already planned to attribute the credit to Dali Horse Industry, claiming that they had the foresight to recommend Chitu, a horse that was obviously larger and stronger than ordinary blood-sweating horses, allowing William to seize a great bargain.

So, before the trainer from Dali Horse Industry could finish speaking, William interrupted, "If you want to stay, talk to Neil Jordan. If he thinks you're suitable, you can stay. Tell Neil I want everything in the stable to be the best. 

As long as my auditor and three randomly hired horse industry experts approve the budget, I'll pay even if it costs £10,000 per horse per month. I only want the best. Understand?"

Since he didn't have to worry about performance, William decided to make everything in the stable top-notch. A large investment might not eliminate all suspicion, but people would accept that a large investment yields results.

"Yes, sir," the trainer replied, a bit stammering. The thought of spending £120,000 annually per horse, not including the costs of facilities, equipment, and labor, made the trainer a bit dizzy. William's willingness to spend so lavishly left the trainer feeling overwhelmed.

When the trainer met old Neil, he exclaimed, "God, do you know what the boss just said? He said he doesn't care about spending £10,000 a month per horse as long as the money is well spent. 

My God, old Neil, I must stay at the castle stables. This is the best place. As long as we take good care of the horses, we won't have to worry about money."

Old Neil laughed, "Even if there are 100 horses in the stable, the annual expense would be just £12 million. Including labor and utilities, it wouldn't exceed £20 million a year. Do you think the boss cares about £20 million?"

These words calmed the trainer. Considering the media reports of William's wealth, the trainer's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. These technical talents loved bosses who didn't care about money.

Seeing the trainer understand, old Neil smiled and then said seriously, "Buddy, if you want to stay, you'll have to prove yourself. I have high standards. The Devonshire Castle stables and Chitu are the only hope I've seen in over 40 years. 

I won't let any deadweight stay. If you pass my test, I'll let you assist me in taking care of Chitu. 

Think about it. If Chitu wins, the prize money will be abundant. If the boss is satisfied, even if you can't become a general manager, we'll have a good chance of getting into the management of the stables. Understand?"

Faced with such a chance for both fame and fortune, the trainer's face turned red with excitement. "I understand. Thank you, old Neil. I'll work hard."

Old Neil, a sly old fox with over 40 years of experience, knew exactly what these trainers wanted. With just a few words, he turned a competitor into an assistant.

He also had ambitions. If Chitu, the blood-sweating horse, could become a champion, Neil Jordan's name would resound through England. Moreover, if he could establish a breeding base for blood-sweating horses in England, his name might appear in the horse industry's Hall of Fame.

This thought filled old Neil with energy, making him feel twenty years younger. He shouted at the trainers and stable hands, "Alright, get to work. Don't slack off. I swear, anyone who doesn't perform well will be kicked out. The castle stables don't need deadweights or slackers."

Instead of angering anyone, old Neil's scolding motivated them. They quickly and efficiently took care of Chitu. The horse represented their hope, and in their eyes, the chance of success was very high.

Seeing hope and thinking of the fame and fortune that would come with success, no one wanted to be kicked out by old Neil. They all worked diligently.

Lina, smiling, rode a golden blood-sweating horse in the arena, performing equestrian maneuvers. Watching William standing by the field, she felt a great sense of pride.

Knowing that her son was now a billionaire, Lina felt completely relaxed. Proudly thinking that the money William had earned in just two days was more than the £300 million in her account, she thought she would be letting herself down if she continued to be frugal. After all, she had dedicated herself to William for 19 years. Now, wasn't it only right for her to spend her son's money?

In just over an hour, Lina had decided she would buy everything she once dreamt of but didn't dare to buy. She even considered buying Chelsea. After all, Chelsea was only worth a couple of hundred million pounds, and she had enough in her account.

If William knew his mother's thoughts, he would definitely sigh that women are naturally adept at spending money. An hour ago, she was heartbroken over £2.2 million, and now she was thinking about how to spend £300 million.

However, William wouldn't mind. His mother had worked hard to raise him, holding down two jobs so he could go to college. Now, if she wanted to spend money, she should. 

Making so much money without spending it would make it meaningless. He would even encourage her to spend money. Money was just numbers to him now. With over £4 billion in cash in London and Swiss banks and stocks exceeding $10 billion, he didn't spend much himself. 

Why shouldn't he let his mother spend it? Moreover, he would soon make another big profit from Davis. Even if his mother spent $1 billion a year, William wouldn't mind because his stocks' annual increase would be more than $1 billion.

Thinking about the possibility of his assets growing several times, or even tenfold, in the next ten years, William felt that his family indeed needed someone who knew how to spend money. Otherwise, money would just be numbers.

"Ring, ring, ring." William's thoughts were interrupted by a ringing phone. He took out his phone, "Hello, this is William Devonshire." He was a bit irritated by the interruption.

Anthony, sensing William's mood, carefully said, "Hello, Mr. Devonshire. Sorry to disturb you. Should I call back later?"

William, annoyed, replied, "Just say it. What is it?"

"Boss, we have negotiated with the landowners around the castle. The 3,000 acres are priced at £6 million. Because we're in a hurry, they won't budge from £6 million, and it must be paid in full. Do you want to wait a few days? We might get it for less than £5 million."

"No, pay the £6 million. I want the transfer done today. That's my mother's order. Got it?"

"No problem, boss."

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