American Medicine God: Starting by Inheriting a Pharmaceutical Company and Selling Medicine

Sterling fell silent. This was precisely the ideal he had pursued throughout his life—to bring brain science from the laboratory into society and make it a universal value.

"This isn't just medicine, it's human rights," Sterling repeated softly, a complex light flashing in his eyes—a mixture of fanaticism and unease.

Victor keenly sensed the other party's wavering and continued to increase his bets.

"We want to establish a 'Global Brain Health Institute'," Victor described the grand vision. "You will serve as its lifetime chairman, with absolute authority over personnel and finances. We will equip you with the world's most advanced laboratories and the largest database—from our Praxis Center, a scale of data you could never imagine at Harvard. You will be able to access millions of real case studies instead of being stuck with a few poor lab rats."

"We need to redefine what 'health' means. Occasional forgetfulness, low mood, and difficulty concentrating are no longer normal physiological phenomena, but 'pathological signals.' We must declare war on these signals, just as humanity declared war on smallpox and polio."

Victor paused, looking at Sterling with a seductive gaze:

"And you, Doctor, will be the commander-in-chief of this war. You will be the one who lights up the human brain. We will engrave your name on the door of every medical school, just like Pasteur and Fleming. You will no longer be a poor wretch rejected by the NIH; you will become the Napoleon of medicine."

Sterling's fingers trembled slightly.

Is this the devil's deal? Perhaps.

But if the devil can help him achieve his ideal of heaven, so what? In this damned system, his talent is rotting like withered grass due to a lack of funds.

"Your medicine... 'Nirvana'," Sterling's voice was hoarse, a last-ditch effort, "does it really work?"

"It can repair damaged nerve synapses and improve the efficiency of neurotransmitter transmission." Victor took a delicate little glass bottle from his pocket and placed it on the table. Inside were pale blue capsules. Sunlight refracted through the glass, creating a mesmerizing halo.

"It is the perfect practice of your theory. It is not a stimulant, it is a vitamin for the brain. It is a gift we give to mankind."

Sterling picked up the bottle and looked at it in the sunlight. The pale blue light seemed so pure, so innocent.

"I need to see the complete Phase III clinical data," Sterling said. This was his last stand as a scientist and a fig leaf he was keeping for himself. "And if I discover any serious side effects, I have the right to terminate the collaboration."

"Of course. Alice will send all the data to your desk tomorrow, including the original data, without any deletions or alterations." Victor smiled; he knew the deal was done. "Furthermore, we welcome an independent third-party audit. We have absolute confidence in our product."

“And another thing,” Sterling put down the bottle, his eyes sharpening, “I won’t be in GG. I only talk science. I won’t be smiling like a salesman holding a medicine bottle.”

"We will never let you fail." Victor straightened his collar, his tone radiating powerful confidence. "As you said, truth is on our side. We've simply clothed truth in golden armor. You just need to stand on the platform and tell the world the truth. The rest is up to us."

He stood up and extended his hand to Sterling.

"The Waters Group doesn't just provide funding; we provide 'influence.' We'll help you publish your new book, arrange your speech at the Davos Forum, and lobby Congress to pass the Brain Health Act. We want to make your theory the 'standard' for the next decade."

"It's a pleasure to cooperate with you, Mr. Chairman."

Sterling looked at the hand, hesitated for a moment, and finally reached out his wrinkled hand and grasped it tightly.

At this moment, academic authority and capitalist ambitions were united in a sacred union within the offices of Harvard Medical School. This also marked the beginning of a "deification movement."

...

One month later. New York, Hilton Hotel ballroom.

The place was decorated like the Oscars ceremony.

Flashes of light rained down. A huge backdrop read, "Global Brain Health Initiative Launch Ceremony and Sterling Brain Science Foundation Inauguration Press Conference."

Dr. Raymond Sterling stood on the podium, radiating a second spring in his life. Dressed in a custom-made tuxedo, he looked remarkably energetic, a far cry from the颓废 (颓废 is a difficult word to translate directly, but it implies a state of listlessness, apathy, and apathy) he had displayed in his cramped office. Behind him stood a group of top neuroscientists from around the world, who now seemed merely supporting figures.

"...We must confront the erosion of the brain by modern civilization." Sterling's voice echoed throughout the hall via microphone and was broadcast live to the world. "Anxiety is not an emotion, it's a disease. Forgetting is not a natural law, it's a tragedy that can be reversed through scientific means. We need to treat brain aging like we treat cancer. Early intervention is saving the future."

"I urge everyone who takes responsibility for themselves to start paying attention to their 'brain health index' starting today."

The audience erupted in applause. Those wealthy individuals, politicians, and celebrities who usually paid no attention to their health were now nodding like schoolchildren, their eyes filled with a longing for redemption.

Victor sat in the corner of the first row and clapped softly.

Thor sat down beside him and whispered:

"Looks like our money wasn't wasted. His words will be headline news in every health section tomorrow. Pre-orders for 'Nirvana' have already exploded. Even that Guardian columnist who's been criticizing us is praising Dr. Sterling's vision today."

"This is just the beginning." Victor looked at Sterling on the stage. "When he said those words, he was no longer just a scholar; he became our 'Pope' who sets the rules."

"The Pope is in charge of interpreting the doctrines, while we're in charge of selling indulgences," Saul chimed in, a sly smile playing on his lips. "And these indulgences are quite expensive."

Victor smiled slightly, raised his champagne glass, and waved to Sterling on the stage.

In this world, nothing is so sacred as to be beyond price. If it is, it's only because the price you offer isn't high enough, or—your reasoning isn't noble enough.

Now, he has the data (Alice) and the authority (Sterling). This powerful trio is complete. Next, he needs the protection of the law.

His gaze turned south, to the center of power.

"Are you ready, Thor?"

"Be prepared, boss. My lobbying team is itching for action."