At 7:40 PM London time, Wilson, freshly groomed and slightly nervous, sat on a couch reviewing the content of his cross-planet conversations with William.
He mentally rehearsed his lines, ensuring that he wouldn't misspeak during the broadcast. He then stood up, straightened his suit, and joined the female host who was waiting nearby.
The host, well aware of Wilson's newfound status as a board member of the Independent Television Network thanks to his connection with William, was both patient and attentive. She even leaned in a little too closely, occasionally fluttering her lashes at him while reviewing the script.
Though tempted, Wilson kept his composure. He understood that now was not the time for distractions. Besides, any misstep on his part—especially involving a scandal—would risk disappointing William, who had explicitly warned him not to cause trouble.
If Wilson lost William's trust, he knew he'd be left out of FaceNet's lucrative future and replaced by someone else.
However, when a few noble friends arrived, their smirking expressions reminded Wilson of the stakes. He quickly pushed aside any inappropriate thoughts about the attractive host.
By 8 PM, Wilson, wearing a practiced smile, sat upright on the set's chair, ready to face an audience of millions.
As the program began, over 200 million viewers across England and the Commonwealth, along with more than a billion others watching through international broadcasts, eagerly tuned in.
For the Independent Television Network, this was the pinnacle of its 40-year history. The broadcast rights alone had been sold to dozens of countries for fees ranging from £400,000 to £8 million, depending on their population and economic strength.
In regions like Asia and South America, the fees were significantly lower—just tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of pounds—designed as an introductory offer to test the waters.
If those regions generated strong ad revenue, the network would undoubtedly increase its rates for future broadcasts.
As the cameras rolled, Wilson glanced at the host, who began the program with a flawless opening monologue.
Despite her earlier flirtatious behavior, Wilson was impressed by her professionalism. She spoke quickly yet clearly, delivering a long string of information without a single misstep.
Wilson silently admitted that her presence would be an asset to the network. However, he resolved to maintain his distance to avoid potential scandals that could damage his public image—or, worse, jeopardize his partnership with William.
When the host turned to him, Wilson shifted his focus and greeted the audience with a polite smile.
After a brief introduction and some light banter, Wilson decided to address the elephant in the room.
"I know what everyone is most curious about right now," he began, leaning slightly forward. "So before we discuss anything else, let me share what I know. Otherwise, some of you might start cursing me for making you wait."
This candid remark immediately endeared him to the audience, who had been waiting for hours for this moment.
"To be honest," Wilson continued, "if it weren't for the overwhelming demand online for me to explain this, I wouldn't have dared to reveal William's secret."
Feigning hesitation, he added, "I know him well, and let's just say I've learned the hard way not to cross him."
The audience chuckled, amused by the mix of fear and admiration in Wilson's tone.
"Here's the thing," Wilson said, his face growing serious. "If you've been following William's Mars livestreams, you've probably noticed that he's mentioned the number of potato plants he's growing—40 plants, to be exact—and he's estimated that each plant will yield about five potatoes, for a total of 200 potatoes weighing approximately 10 kilograms.
"But let me tell you: knowing William as I do, and having been outsmarted by him more times than I care to admit, I'm convinced this is a deliberate ploy to mislead us."
Wilson paused for effect, scanning the camera as if addressing each viewer personally.
"Think about it," he continued. "How many of you, after hearing him repeat the number '200' several times, subconsciously based your guesses on that number?"
The realization hit the audience like a ton of bricks.
"Exactly," Wilson said, nodding at their stunned expressions. "Even if you factored in variations in individual potato weight, most of you probably stuck close to that 200 number, didn't you?"
The majority of viewers, many of whom lacked any farming experience, began to nod in agreement.
"And here's the catch," Wilson said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Because of that number, I'll bet less than 10% of you even considered that the actual yield could exceed 300 potatoes."
The audience erupted into murmurs, both online and in living rooms around the world.
Wilson smiled slyly. "Now you're starting to see it, aren't you? William's a master strategist. And let me tell you why I think the actual yield might far exceed his so-called 'estimate.'
"First of all, William is an incredibly self-confident person—but he also has a strong need for security.
"Whenever he tackles a problem, he plans for every possible outcome. If things look promising, he dives in with enthusiasm. But if the situation seems uncertain, he'll lock himself away in his lab or his room until he's figured out a solution."
Wilson's expression turned wry. "So you can imagine my reaction when I heard someone suggest that the potatoes on Mars might underperform—or even fail entirely.
"That's laughable. Do you really think someone as meticulous as William would leave something as vital as his food supply to chance?
"Let me put it this way: the man invented a healing solution that can boost the human body's recovery rate by 20 to 40 times, depending on the version.
"That's why the Chelsea football team hasn't had a single injury problem for the past year and a half.
"So, if he can do that for humans, why wouldn't he apply the same ingenuity to plants?
"On Mars, he has volcanic ash, access to basic nutrients, and time. If anyone could create a nutrient solution to maximize potato yield, it's him."
Wilson leaned back, letting the weight of his argument sink in.
"So, don't be surprised if the final yield isn't just 10 kilograms. I wouldn't be shocked if it's closer to 20—or even 30 kilograms."
The room fell silent for a moment, as viewers processed the possibility.
Then, as if anticipating their skepticism, Wilson grinned and said, "I know it sounds crazy. But when it comes to William, the crazier the idea, the more likely it is to be true."
(End of Chapter)
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