After hearing William's plans, Wilson wiped the sweat off his brow and stammered, "So you're planning to use us as a stepping stone to draw ordinary people in, just to trample over us?"
"Exactly," William replied bluntly. "But I've already said it's only about showcasing the skills you're good at.
"I'm not asking you to compete for world records—just present the active and positive side of the noble class.
"If you can't beat others at general sports, can't you at least excel in etiquette, horse riding, golf, or cricket? Those are classic aristocratic activities."
"That's easier said than done," Wilson sighed, covering his forehead with his hand.
"Even if some of us are good at these things, do you really think we can outperform people from around the world?
"Once you stir up the competitive spirit of ordinary folks, they'll definitely outshine us, and we'll end up humiliated."
Seeing Wilson's lack of confidence, William's frustration boiled over.
"Bloody hell, I'd love to knock some sense into you right now.
"Out of all the noble kids, are you seriously telling me not one of them excels at anything?
"I'm not asking you to compete with world champions! Even if you can't win at other things, surely you can still dominate in equestrian sports?"
"That's not a given," Wilson replied after a moment of silence.
"The thing is, a lot of aristocratic sports have become mainstream. Many wealthy kids start training in horse riding as early as five or six years old.
"Compared to the sheer number of wealthy families, the noble class is small.
"And don't forget, some so-called nobles aren't even as wealthy as the average rich family. How are we supposed to compete?"
"You..."
William almost swore in frustration but held back, knowing Wilson wasn't entirely wrong.
After a brief pause, he compromised. "Fine, then take a different approach—frame it as a charity event or an academic discussion.
"Downplay the competitive aspect and highlight themes like participation and the spirit of sportsmanship.
"Let people see that not all nobles are idle freeloaders. Some of us work hard and are dedicated learners."
"Alright, that seems more doable," Wilson said, relieved.
"Actually, many of us are passionate about sports. As long as it doesn't create a sense of class conflict, I think I can get people involved."
"Huh?"
William raised an eyebrow at the mention of "class conflict," and realization dawned on him.
It wasn't that Wilson and his peers were unwilling to compete, nor that they lacked talented individuals.
Rather, they feared that being too high-profile might provoke widespread resentment.
Given the precarious state of the aristocracy, they couldn't afford to draw unnecessary attention to themselves.
But William didn't care about the aristocracy's reputation. His goal was to spark discussions on the new social platform and retain the younger generation—the backbone of any online community.
"Let me warn you, Wilson: if any rotten apples among the noble heirs cause trouble on the platform, or if your group fails to contribute meaningfully, our previous investment agreement is void," William said sternly.
"If you want to make money by sticking with me, it won't come easy.
"In my projection, this website will be valued at at least £100 billion within ten years.
"If it can't dominate the social markets of England and its Commonwealth nations while capturing half of Europe's market, then it's not worth keeping.
"The future of internet companies will be a winner-takes-all scenario."
"£100 billion in ten years?" Wilson gasped, his excitement making him stammer.
"That—that—that would make the 5% stake worth £5 billion?"
"What do you think?" William retorted.
"If England weren't my home base, if I weren't a hereditary noble myself, and if I didn't currently need your help, do you think I'd let you make this kind of money?
"So let me be clear: if you want a net worth in the billions, you'd better keep those eager-to-ride-my-coattails noble kids in line.
"You're not the only ones who can create buzz. If you fail to meet my expectations, I can turn to celebrities instead.
"And I guarantee their costs will only be a few million dollars.
"Also, if you don't prove your worth over time, don't blame me if I dilute your shares before the company goes public."
"I understand," Wilson said, nodding earnestly.
"I'll carefully select the right people. I promise no bad apples will get through."
Wilson held immense respect for William's ability to make money—far more than he had for his own grandfather, who had spent decades building his reputation.
After all, few could go from nothing to a net worth of hundreds of billions in just two years.
And even if someone had that ability, they wouldn't share the spoils with others.
The fact that William was willing to involve Wilson and his peers was largely due to his youth and his disconnect from older aristocrats.
Motivated by the dazzling prospect of wealth, Wilson quickly left the Space Center after discussing a few details with William.
He immediately called his butler, lawyer, and trusted associates to arrange the purchase of shares in the independent TV station.
He knew that if he couldn't secure the TV deal, he'd lose any chance of being involved in the social media venture.
William, on the other hand, had multiple reasons for involving Wilson.
For one, it reduced the need for Abby and the others to make public appearances, protecting them from being used as leverage against him.
For another, it repaid the goodwill shown by King Philip, who had quietly helped deal with those targeting Lena and the Devonshire family.
Philip, keen on maintaining the aristocratic system, undoubtedly saw William as a rising star and an essential ally.
After all, William's prominence as a hereditary noble was already earning him a reputation as a de facto representative of the English aristocracy.
After ending his communication with the Space Center, William opened a portal to transport the alien corpse to the X17 planet for processing by Sunday.
He then returned to the underground lab in his Oxford castle to oversee the development of FaceNet.
A few hours later, the site was officially registered and launched.
William spared no expense, renting nearly half of the available servers in major countries worldwide.
Although he had anticipated 1 billion users at launch, Sunday's analysis revealed that the global internet population was only about 500 million at the time.
With this in mind, FaceNet didn't need to prepare for a billion users just yet.
After an overnight test, Sunday reported:
"Sir, the rented servers and our private server clusters can currently support up to 100 million simultaneous users.
"In extreme cases, we can lease an additional thousand large server clusters from major countries, allowing for up to 200 million concurrent users.
"However, the website's chat and comment features are currently limited to basic text responses.
"Expanding functionality will require further testing, server upgrades, and source code refinements.
"Rushing the process might outpace society's current technological capabilities."
After personally testing the site, William realized that FaceNet's current features were still basic—perhaps even crude.
But given the simplicity of other social platforms at the time, even reaching 1 million concurrent users would make FaceNet an industry leader.
(End of Chapter)
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