"Haha, William, you're very clever. You're the only descendant of both the Winston and Devonshire families. I won't let anyone harm you or your mother, Lena.
There are always people willing to take risks. When they can't find the Devonshire family's secrets, they think about targeting you and Lena. Over the years, I've dealt with at least 20 such people. The Winston and Devonshire families have never shown mercy to their enemies."
Having an uncle who is the head of the world's largest assassin organization really could ensure his and his mother's safety. It would certainly make many people think twice before targeting them.
After hearing this, William picked up his phone and called his mother, Lena. "Hello, William? You still remember to call your mother? I thought you would hide somewhere in the world and only remember me after having children. You left home after just two days. Do you know how many things are waiting for you to decide at the castle? Do you even consider me your mother anymore, you ungrateful boy?"
William's face turned slightly red as he looked at Winston. His mother was quite fierce, and he indeed felt a bit guilty for leaving home so soon.
Winston waved his hand, showing a helpless smile as he watched William's embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I really don't have time to go back right now. I'll definitely spend time with you once I'm done with everything. I love you, Mom. Don't be angry, or you'll get wrinkles."
"Idiot, I won't get wrinkles. Tell me what you want. I know you wouldn't call unless you needed something. You ungrateful child, always causing trouble outside."
"Mom, do we have a relative named Winston?" William asked.
"Why are you asking? Where did you hear about a relative named Winston?" Lena replied.
William looked at Winston. Lena's voice was loud enough for Winston to hear.
Winston quickly gestured for William to keep quiet about their meeting, putting a finger to his lips.
Though puzzled, William nodded to Winston. "Mom, I heard it from Grandpa's friend. He said I might have an uncle with long hair and a South American appearance. Is that true?"
"Of course. Ivan Winston, always looking scruffy, with hair that seemed unwashed. He spoke slowly, as if everyone owed him a million pounds. I know him, but he supposedly died in an accident. Darling, have you seen Ivan somewhere? I remember I kept a photo of him from when you were born. Ivan came to see you, but I haven't been able to find those photos lately."
William looked apologetically at Winston. "If you can't find them, it's okay, Mom. I need to go. I'll come home soon to see you. Say hi to Tina for me. Bye, Mom."
Lena grumbled, "I knew it would be like this. At least Tina keeps me company. Bye, and stay safe out there."
After hanging up, William turned to Winston. "Sorry, Winston."
Winston didn't mind. "I knew Lena would say that. When you were young, Lena wouldn't let me hold you. She always thought I would take you away."
"What! Take me away?" William exclaimed.
Winston sighed. "Yes, there was a time when I did want to take you away. I can't have children, so you're the only bloodline of both our families. You have the same blood as me. But Lena drove me away, and after that, she never allowed me near you."
"Alright, I'll believe you for now." William examined the password cylinder, using the family cipher to open it with his father's Chinese name. Inside, there was a note that read: "Charlotte is a ship. Go find it," along with coordinates written in a riddle.
William recognized Henry's handwriting. Anyone unfamiliar with the backstory would be utterly confused by this note. "Charlotte" was the only useful clue the Devonshire family had found about King Solomon's treasure over the centuries.
William pretended to pocket the note, but actually stored it in his personal storage space, the safest place in the world.
It seemed Henry had found many clues but was unable to pursue them before his injury, leaving the task to William.
Initially, William wasn't interested in the treasure hunt. Without clues, it felt like chasing shadows. He figured he'd earn more using future technology. But now, with clues in hand, the hunt seemed promising, offering a sense of accomplishment and the lure of wealth. He decided to follow Henry's instructions to find the ship named Charlotte and see what treasures or clues it held.
Not showing Winston the note, William smiled, "Now I believe you're my uncle."
If Henry trusted Winston, William would too, though he remained cautious. Who knew what had changed in ten years? His trust in Winston would be limited for now.
"Alright, Uncle Winston, I trust you because Henry did. Thank you for your protection all these years. If you need my help, just ask, and I'll do my best."
Winston smiled, "Actually, I do need your help. I'm old, William. Ten years ago, at fifty, I wanted to groom you as my successor. Now, over sixty, I hope you can gradually take over the New York Continental Hotel. Also, I hope you'll adopt the name William Winston Devonshire, keeping the Winston surname alive."
After considering, William saw no issue with adding a surname. "No problem, Winston. I don't mind. Being like Henry is fine. After all, I do carry the Winston blood."
Winston was thrilled. "Great, William. I'm glad. This way, the Winston family won't end with me." He then pushed a box of gold coins towards William. "Here's my first gift to you. You've heard of the Continental Hotel's gold coins, right?"
William nodded. "Yes, a former CIA agent friend mentioned them. I also know about the cleaners, but not the specifics of the coins."
"I know your friend, Brian Mills. He's taken many assignments from us over the years and is one of the few who retired peacefully," Winston said.
Hearing that only a few retired peacefully, William asked, "Uncle, are there very few who retire from the Continental Hotel?"
Winston laughed, "Of course, child. After years or decades of a bloody, thrilling career, 70% of those without stable families return to their old ways after a while, unable to adapt to a dull retired life.
"Of the remaining 30%, 70% squander their savings in a few years and have to pick up their guns again.
"The last 9% often get targeted by old enemies or face family breakdowns, leaving them desperate enough to resume their old lives. So, among 1,000 assassins, barely one can retire peacefully."
Winston's words sent a chill down William's spine, painting a harsh reality.
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