Hearing that William was genuinely considering letting them go, Yondu finally breathed a sigh of relief—only to see William pick up one of Quill's electro-bombs, eyeing it thoughtfully.
Yondu's gaze flicked over to Quill, sending him a silent signal.
Quill, catching the look, returned a hesitant "Are you sure?" expression.
Yondu responded with a firm blink, then shot Quill a fierce glare—"Do it!"
With no choice, Quill reluctantly nodded and suddenly shouted, "Activate!"
Zzzzzt! A high-voltage crackle exploded in William's hand as the electro-bomb surged to life.
As sparks lit up the room, Yondu and Quill charged forward, hoping to take William by surprise and gain control.
But after just two steps, their hopeful grins twisted into horrified grimaces.
Because instead of being electrocuted, William stood calmly, holding the sparking bomb in his bare hand—completely unharmed.
Without a second thought, both men froze, instinctively turning to dive behind the furniture for cover.
But who could outrun lightning?
Zzzap! Two bolts of electricity streaked down and struck them mid-turn.
Agonizing screams echoed through the mansion, sending the Asgardian ladies upstairs into a frenzy—part fear, part morbid curiosity.
William absorbed the excess electricity into his suit, casually glanced at the twitching Yondu and Quill on the floor, then turned away from them.
With a thought, he swept up all the scattered parts of the bomb and other gadgets on the table, sending them to Sunday for analysis and potential replication.
Sipping from his glass of strong Asgardian liquor, William looked at the pair still playing dead and—
Snap!
Two fresh arcs of lightning zapped them again, forcing them to convulse and groan.
Busted, Yondu and Quill had no choice but to sit up like two electrocuted puppies.
Still reclining on the couch, William lazily waved his finger. Two energy pistols floated from the table and pointed directly at their heads.
"I don't have time or patience to keep playing games with you," he said coldly. "By the time I finish this drink, if I don't hear what I want, you two can say hello to Satan."
As he took small, deliberate sips from his glass, the tension in the room thickened. Quill, sweating bullets, glanced nervously at Yondu, who remained silent.
Finally, Quill couldn't take it anymore and shouted, "Dammit, Yondu! What's more important—your damn Yaka arrow or our lives?!"
"Of course the Ya—" Yondu began reflexively, then noticed the pistols' triggers twitching.
Immediately, he changed tune. "Our lives! Lives are more important! We can talk, we can talk!"
"Now we're getting somewhere." William chuckled, twirling his finger.
Two fresh glasses floated out of the bar, filled themselves halfway with liquor, and drifted over to Yondu and Quill.
"Have a seat."
With drinks in hand, the two slumped down opposite William, still rattled and on edge.
A long, quiet minute passed before Quill, panicking, looked at Yondu and whispered, "Come on, man, just say something. I'll back you up. We'll do whatever he wants."
William waved his hand. "No need."
From a portal, a single crate clunked onto the floor—filled with 10,000 shimmering energy crystals.
As the lid popped open, Quill's eyes gleamed in awe.
Even Yondu, who had managed to keep a poker face, finally cracked a grin and raised his glass. "To you, Mr. Devonshire!"
He downed the drink in one gulp, then straightened up in his seat.
"Not enough," he declared.
Snap!
Another crate appeared.
"Still not enough," Yondu gulped, eyeing the growing pile of glowing blue treasure. "Yaka arrows can pierce through most known metals in the galaxy. That price won't cut it."
Ten crates in total soon filled the room, casting a radiant blue glow across the entire lounge.
William smiled and asked, "Now?"
Yondu finally lost his composure. His mouth went dry, and he drained his glass before yanking Quill's and downing that too.
He squirmed in his seat, torn between temptation and caution.
"Jesus, Yondu," Quill muttered, "That's like ten million star credits. You could sell those crystals for thirteen million easy. We don't need more—we could live off this stash for thirty years!"
He wasn't just blinded by greed—he feared William would lose patience and kill them both.
"That's enough money to hire ten Ravager crews," Quill continued urgently, "Hell, we could raid all of Centauri IV for Yaka metal. You don't want that heat on your homeworld, do you?"
But instead of flaring up, Yondu's expression darkened.
"It's gone," he said hollowly. "Centauri IV… it's already gone."
"What do you mean?" Quill blinked, confused.
William answered for him, tone calm but cold. "He means his home planet was wiped out long ago. The once-renowned Yondu Udonta is just another homeless drifter now."
The words cut deep.
Yondu's face drained of color as he stared blankly at William.
Seeing the hatred flicker in his eyes, William almost ended them both right there—ready to strip the signal node from the fin on Yondu's head.
But before he could act, Yondu caught the deadly glint in William's eyes and sat bolt upright.
"I'll get you the Yaka metal," he said urgently. "I don't want the money. I want revenge. Help me get it, and I'll give you everything—how to make the arrows, how to control them. All of it. No secrets. After that, whether you kill me or not, I won't complain."
William gave a cold laugh. "There are a thousand artifacts in this universe more powerful than a Yaka arrow. By the time I help you get your revenge, I might've already found ten better weapons."
"Wait!" Quill cut in desperately. "We don't need you to personally go with him, Mr. Devonshire! Just hire Ravagers to do the job. Yondu—how much would it cost to rally enough crews to retake Centauri IV?"
Yondu jolted upright, clearly excited by the idea.
But then he slumped again, remembering his status.
He wasn't a Ravager anymore.
But true to his old hustler instincts, he found a way.
Gritting his teeth, he looked William in the eye. "I can't call on Ravagers directly. But you can. If you put out the bounty and bankroll the job—I'll give you whatever you want in return."
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