Yondu clutched his head and cursed, "At first, we thought this client of ours was just some Centaurian from T'rahl. But now, not only has he come to Asgard himself, he's also managed to create those so-called healing sigils and sell them to Odin at sky-high prices. Use that pea brain of yours for once—do you think Odin would let himself get hustled without a good reason?"
"Uh…" Quill rubbed the back of his head, still dizzy from being smacked, trying to piece together his thoughts. "If the client's that much trouble, and robbing him would be risky, why the hell are we even going to him? Wouldn't it be smarter to wait on Earth and jack up the price tenfold, then con him out of a fortune and bail?"
"Idiot. You only ever see the small score," Yondu sneered. "Our new client may be some hotshot magic-item maker, but at the end of the day, he's still just a human from Earth. And the Asgardians barely ever leave the Nine Realms. So tell me, if we can get the distribution rights to those healing sigils and start selling them in war zones, how much do you think the price would skyrocket?"
"You sly—heh heh," Quill chuckled, now fully understanding. "No wonder you were dead set on dragging me along. You wanted to use my identity as a Terran!"
"Cut the chatter. When we meet our golden goose, you bring up your Earth origins first. Not T'rahl. Earth."
"Got it." Quill nodded excitedly, now realizing that Yondu only insisted on bringing him because of his Terran heritage.
Meanwhile, William was inside his mansion with a few Asgardian ladies, sampling some fine liquor brought by a local wine merchant. A knock sounded at the door.
With a sweep of his mental senses, William saw it was a golden-armored guard.
Opening the door with a flick of his mind, he asked casually, "What is it?"
"Pardon the intrusion, Lord Devonshire. We've just received a request for entry. The applicant says his name is Yondu and that you sent for him. He claims he waited for over ten days on Midgard before finding out you'd come to Asgard and decided to follow you here."
"Yondu?" William raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "That's right. I did have someone pass along a message to a Ravager named Yondu. I just didn't expect the kind of guy who'd dare show up on Asgard."
"Ravager?" The Asgardian girls around him shrieked with surprise.
But to William's amusement, their expressions didn't show fear—more like intrigue, even a bit of excitement.
He waved them off. "Tell someone to bring them in."
"Apologies, Lord. According to regulations, Ravagers aren't allowed to set foot on Asgard."
"Then go ask Odin," William said without a second thought. "I'm sure he'll say yes."
He shut the door without waiting for a reply. This reminded him—Asgard was definitely not the place to discuss the Orb, or the Power Stone.
But meeting Yondu wasn't a problem. William was also curious about the Yaka arrow.
A whistle-controlled arrow capable of tearing through enemies like a hot knife through butter—it might not suit him, but it'd be perfect for Selene or Nyssa, his vampire allies.
To Earthlings, a Yaka arrow was nothing short of a divine weapon.
In the meantime, Odin received the request and noticed the note in Yondu's file: Yaka Arrow. He frowned slightly. Could William have a habit of collecting rare weapons?
Of all the Ravagers, why seek out a rogue exiled from his crew?
Regardless, Odin waved his hand. "Let them in."
Before long, another knock came at William's door. This time, his psychic scan picked up Yondu… and Peter Quill, known across the galaxy as the loudmouth ringleader of the so-called Guardians of the Galaxy.
But the pair's expressions were tense.
Upon arrival, Asgard's guards treated them like criminals—watched every move, escorted them aboard a boat-shaped craft, and took them straight to the inner city.
Fortunately, once they were brought to William's manor, the guards waited outside, letting Yondu and Quill finally breathe easy and start thinking about their play.
"Drink?" William asked casually.
"Anything's fine, Mr. Devonshire," Quill jumped in first, just as they'd planned. "I'm Peter Quill, from Texas, USA. And this is Yondu Udonta."
Yondu gave a respectful nod. "Good to meet you, sir. I'm Yondu, a Ravager by trade. So what's your interest in us?"
Pouring three drinks, William handed over two and smiled. "I'm intrigued by Yaka metal, and I've got some reliable intel that says you were born on Centauri IV and are one of the few who can wield a Yaka arrow. So, how about it? Interested in selling me a few arrows—and the method to use them?"
"Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." A flicker of panic flashed in Yondu's eyes. He tried to keep calm. "And I wasn't born on Centauri IV."
William narrowed his eyes. "As I said, I got my intel from some very reputable dealers. I know for a fact you were born in the Centauri system. And that arrow of yours is tucked into your left waist holster."
Fweee~
The second Yondu blew a whistle, hoping to call the arrow, his lips were sealed shut by an invisible force—and the Yaka arrow floated gently toward William.
"Stop!" Quill shouted.
They'd only just found a fellow Terran out here in space, and now Yondu was being disarmed like a rookie.
Quill had thought that even if William was a powerful mage, once he got close, the two of them could overpower him.
But clearly, he'd been dead wrong.
In a flash, Yondu was restrained by William's power, and their ace in the hole—the Yaka arrow—was now in William's hand.
Freaking out, Quill reached for his twin blasters.
But before he could even touch his belt, William glanced at him—and suddenly, Quill couldn't move his arms.
"What… what did you do to us?!" he cried out.
"Relax," William said. "I've got no beef with you two."
He waved his hand. Every piece of equipment on Yondu and Quill—weapons, gadgets, armor—flew off and landed neatly on the nearby table.
Snap.
With a single snap of his fingers, the restraints vanished. Yondu and Quill could move again.
But after seeing how casually William had handled them, they knew better than to try anything. Both stood quietly in place.
"Quill," William said calmly, "mind walking me through what all those toys of yours can do?"
Then he turned to Yondu, who was sweating bullets.
"Mr. Udonta, I think I've made myself clear. I'm offering you a very generous deal—one generous enough to let you walk away in one piece."
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