Winston scoffed. "You can say whatever you want now. After all, someone has already cleaned up all the hidden dangers for free for the sake of the Hammer family's business and wealth."
"Haha, then shouldn't I be thanking those guys?" William spread his hands and laughed. "Unfortunately, the timing isn't right. Otherwise, I'd be asking them for some benefits. If I hadn't buried Hammer and his sons, would they have taken over the Hammer Group so easily?"
Winston rolled his eyes at William who was obsessed with money. After a moment of silence, he lamented, "A bullet shot from a ten-year-old's hand is as powerful as a thirty-year-old's. William, I hope you won't regret your undeserved kindness in the future."
"Who knows?" Winston shrugged. He wanted to kill them all, but some gods wouldn't allow it.
Perhaps he would be taken down by some indescribable existence the moment he made a move.
William, who didn't want to talk about this anymore, changed the topic and asked Winston if he knew of an Indian female arms dealer. According to his memory, Mr. X would look for that woman to ask for clues about the warhead.
"An Indian female arms dealer?" Winston pondered for a few seconds before saying, "You should be talking about Thelma. She's an agent in the production and sale of handmade firearms and ammunition.
Many people who have higher requirements for firearms will order from her. They have a gun made of Wootz steel with beautiful patterns. If you're interested, you can try it out with Thelma. "
Winston then took out a pistol from under his armpit and handed it to William. "I ordered this gun from her. The only problem is that an all-steel pistol is a little heavy for some people."
It didn't matter whether it was heavy or not. Even if it was five kilograms, it was no different from one kilogram in William's hands. He shook his hand and didn't take the pistol.
"She probably won't live for long. The target of the cannon fodder I'm looking for is probably Ms. Thelma."
"Alright." Winston frowned and put the gun away. "That's a pity. Thelma and I can still talk for a while.
But it doesn't matter. She's just an agent. If you like it, I'll ask someone to order it for you. "
"Forget it. Give me her phone number. I might have ordered a lot. If possible, I'd like to have one of each gun and bring it back to Oxford for my collection."
One of each kind? Winston couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Then don't even think about it. They can't even make 20 of these Wootz steel pistols in a year. How could they possibly let you buy all of them?"
Upon hearing that the production was so low, William was not interested in waiting any longer. "Forget it then."
After discussing what the cannon fodder was going to do, William left the Continental Hotel and drove to Wesley's company according to Sunday's instructions.
If he wanted to take Wesley in as his subordinate, he had to get in touch with him before Sloan and the others.
After parking the car, he ordered a cup of Americano coffee from a café on the street. He enjoyed the afterglow of the sun while drinking. After waiting for half an hour, it was almost six o 'clock.
Sunday suddenly reported, "Sir, I suggest you have dinner first. Judging from the situation, Mr. Wesley Gibbs should be working overtime."
"Damn it," William cursed before instructing Sunday, "Place an order with Wesley's company and tell him to come see me immediately."
"Understood, sir. However, I suggest you think about what you want to buy so that Mr. Wesley Gibbs won't be troubled by his boss tomorrow."
"God, what does that have to do with me?" Might couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Besides, he won't be staying in that company for long. Also, check if there's anyone following him. I can't expose myself yet."
"Understood, sir."
Just like that, Wesley, who was working overtime, suddenly saw his fat boss, Jenny, walk quickly to his cubicle desk.
"Out on a mission, Wesley."
"What?" Wesley looked at Jenny in surprise.
"God, are you deaf? Out on a mission, a client wants to see you. "
Jenny glared at him and shouted with a sour face, "Hurry up, trash. If you mess up this order, I guarantee that the boss will personally chase you away."
"But I'm not a salesperson. I've never dealt with a client before," Wesley said hesitantly.
Seeing that Wesley didn't want to go, Jenny immediately roared, "Damn it, if the client didn't pay a deposit of ten thousand dollars and specifically asked to see you, do you think I would give you such a good deal? Hurry up, idiot. "
"Ding ding ding, ding ding ding." The phone on Wesley's desk rang.
"Hello, hello. This is XX Company. What can I do for you?"
"Wesley Gibbs?"
"Yes, yes, sir. I'm Wesley Gibbs."
"You have fifteen minutes to get to the Italian restaurant on XX street. The car that will pick you up will arrive in three minutes. Don't be late. Also, please wear a suit. Thank you."
"Bada." The sound of the phone being hung up entered Wesley's ears.
"The Italian restaurant two streets away?" Wesley stared blankly at the phone. He didn't understand who would want to talk business with him at a Michelin three-star restaurant.
On the other hand, Jenny looked at Wesley with jealousy. She had gritted her teeth and went to that restaurant once. She only ordered the most basic set meal and it cost her 400 dollars.
Now, someone was actually treating Wesley to a free meal. This made Jenny a little crazy. "Hurry up, idiot. Didn't you hear the client say that you can't be late? Idiot. "
"Oh, oh, oh." Wesley hurriedly nodded. Suddenly, he was looking forward to meeting that unknown client.
He stood up, grabbed his suit and ran out. He hurriedly got into the taxi that was going to pick him up. When he arrived at his destination and got out of the car, he saw the unassuming Italian restaurant.
After tidying up his appearance, Wesley nervously walked up the steps of the restaurant.
He exchanged glances with a well-dressed middle-aged man. The other party smiled and asked, "Mr. Wesley Gibbs?"
"Yes, yes, sir. I'm Wesley Gibbs."
"I'm Vincent Tang Wen, the lobby manager of this restaurant. Please follow me, Mr. Gibbs. Your table is ready."
Vincent politely extended his hand to Wesley, indicating for him to follow him.
"Oh, okay. Thank you, Mr. Tang Wen."
Wesley, who had never been treated so politely by anyone, grabbed his briefcase with both hands and nervously followed Vincent Tang Wen to a table by the window.
"Wait." Looking at the empty table, Wesley asked in surprise, "I'm sorry, Mr. Tang Wen. I came here at the request of a client.
However, it seems that my client hasn't arrived yet, so … so … "After saying a few" so "s, Wesley didn't know what to do for a moment.
Although it was normal to sit down and wait, he, who had never dealt with clients before, felt that it was better to wait at the entrance of the restaurant or the waiting area for the sake of politeness.
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