"Today marks the fifteenth day since I landed on Mars," William said, grinning mischievously as he held the floating camera drone, addressing the billions of viewers watching the broadcast.
"Honestly, I thought it would take at least twenty days for the potato sprouts to break ground. But they surprised me by emerging after only fifteen days. For the first time since arriving here, I can finally breathe easy—no more worries about running out of food in the short term."
As he moved from one sprouting plant to another, checking each one, William chatted with viewers, answering various random questions. The broadcast continued until afternoon London time, after which he ended the stream and stepped through a portal back to Earth.
Immediately, Sunday reported:
"Sir, there has been unusual activity at the French werewolf camp we've been monitoring. About an hour ago, ten trucks carrying personnel, weapons, and supplies, along with four hovercraft, arrived at the camp. It appears they are preparing to launch an assault on the English shipyard across the channel. Shall I notify Selene and Harry Hart of Kingsman?"
"No need," William said without hesitation.
Finally, someone was making a move. In fact, if necessary, William was willing to subtly help these werewolves succeed—for now. However, after the attack, these werewolves would become liabilities. He intended to eliminate them entirely. If he didn't, his standing order barring supernatural beings from entering England would lose all credibility.
"Once this is over, issue a bounty through the underground network. Ten thousand dollars for each confirmed werewolf kill. No cap on the number of targets, no deadline. As long as the bounty hunter can provide proof of a werewolf's fangs, the payment will be made."
"Understood, sir."
Watching the holographic surveillance feed of the werewolf camp, William muttered to himself, "I wonder if these mongrels have made any improvements since last year."
Later that night, around 1 a.m., at a shipyard in southern England, workers were laboring overtime to complete the final assembly of the spaceship's outer hull. This critical component would soon be transported to the London assembly facility, where other parts of the spacecraft would be installed.
By 3 a.m., the work was finished. After a final inspection by the technical team confirmed everything was in order, a wave of relief swept through the shipyard.
The workers were excited. Over the past two weeks, they had earned significant overtime pay. Moreover, the Devonshire family had promised a £10,000 bonus for each day ahead of schedule. Since they had completed the task three days early, the 110 workers on-site stood to collectively receive £330,000 in bonuses.
However, their celebration was premature.
Before the transport convoy could arrive, four hovercraft approached silently from the sea. At a distance of ten kilometers, the engines were cut, and the werewolves rowed closer under the cover of darkness.
By 3:40 a.m., just over an hour before the convoy's scheduled arrival, the werewolves reached the shore. Two infiltrators among the shipyard's guards had already sabotaged the defenses—one had deactivated the thermal sensors, while the other eliminated a lookout.
With the defenses compromised, the werewolves disembarked from their hovercraft without encountering any resistance.
At 4 a.m., when the night was at its darkest, twenty werewolves transformed into their monstrous forms while six others armed themselves with guns and began distributing armor pieces designed to protect the heads and shoulders of their transformed comrades.
The werewolves divided into squads. Some began stealthily eliminating security personnel, while others, equipped with explosives, made their way toward the assembly workshop.
Gunfire soon echoed through the shipyard as guards tried to mount a defense.
"Cover me," ordered Marius, the werewolf leader, as he signaled the six werewolves carrying explosives.
The six nodded resolutely. They had known from the start that their mission was likely a suicide run. Each carried a large bomb capable of devastating the entire assembly area. Even if only two of the bombs detonated, it would be enough to destroy the workshop.
William, observing the scene through Sunday's surveillance feed, muttered in disbelief, "These rabid dogs have really gone insane... resorting to suicide bombing now?"
As the firefight intensified, two of the explosive-laden werewolves managed to breach the damaged walls of the workshop, using the chaos and dust clouds as cover.
One particularly agile werewolf even leapt over the wall and landed directly inside the facility.
Outside, Marius tightened his grip on the detonator and strained to hear any sounds from within the workshop. A sudden explosion shattered the tension, sending shockwaves through the area.
Marius froze for a moment, then broke into a grin. He hadn't pressed the detonator—meaning the werewolf inside had successfully set off the bomb near the spaceship hull.
However, the explosion wasn't enough to disable the shipyard's defenses entirely. Taking advantage of the confusion, two more werewolves carrying explosives infiltrated the facility.
Inside, they found themselves disoriented by the thick dust and debris. Relying on instinct, they rushed toward the center of the workshop, where they believed the spaceship hull was located.
"Thud!"
One of the werewolves slammed into a solid metal wall. As the dust began to settle, they finally caught a glimpse of the hull—its surface covered in blood and shredded remains from the previous explosion. Despite the destruction around it, the spaceship's outer hull remained unscathed, standing as an immovable fortress.
"Fuck! Damn you, William Devonshire! What kind of monstrous technology is this?" cursed the injured werewolf, clutching his bleeding head.
Determined to complete their mission, the two werewolves retracted their claws, reverted to human form, and prepared to detonate their bombs.
"Three... two... one!"
Boom! Boom!
Two massive explosions rocked the facility. Although the spaceship hull appeared outwardly intact, subtle warping indicated that significant damage had been inflicted. Repairing these deformations would be far more challenging than constructing a new hull.
But the werewolves didn't understand the intricacies of such technology.
They stared in disbelief at the seemingly undamaged structure, unable to comprehend how their explosives had failed. In the eerie silence that followed, the attackers hesitated—uncertain whether to flee or press on.
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Mutter"]
[Every 50 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]