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

Water Pharmaceuticals Research and Development Center.

The maple leaves outside the window have turned completely red, like clusters of burning flames swaying in the cold autumn wind.

The research and development center has three underground floors.

Dr. Arthur Klein, the head of research and development, pushed up his thick glasses and pointed to the complex molecular structure diagram on the projector.

"The most popular weight-loss drug on the market right now is Fen-Phen. Although its patent is still held by Wyeth, we can bypass the patent by fine-tuning the molecular structure and launch a generic version. This would take about two years, but if we start now..."

"No."

Victor sat at the far end of the conference table, completely enveloped in shadow.

"I don't want generic drugs. Especially not generic Fen-Phen."

"But sir, Fen-Phen's sales last year were two billion dollars! It's the most successful weight-loss drug ever! If we could get even 10% of the market share..."

"Then we've been allocated 10% of the graves," Victor suddenly interrupted him.

The conference room was deathly silent. The other researchers all had their heads down, pretending to be looking at their lab reports, afraid of making eye contact with Victor.

Victor stood up and walked to the projection screen.

He stretched out his hand and drew a big X on the molecular structure diagram representing Fen-Phen.

"Arthur, you're a great chemist, but you're a terrible gambler."

"You only see the profits that Fen-Phen brings, but you don't see the time bomb behind it. A non-selective serotonin receptor agonist? This means that while it suppresses appetite, it is also whipping the heart valves of the user like a whip."

"You think this is a money tree? No, it's a noose."

Dr. Arthur was stunned, his mouth slightly agape: "Heart valves? There are indeed some sporadic reports, but there's currently no conclusive evidence..."

"The evidence will be available soon. When Wyeth's empire collapses, a huge vacuum will be left in the market. Millions of obese patients will panic, longing to lose weight but also afraid of death. At that time, whoever can provide a 'safe' alternative will have everything."

He walked up to Arthur, placed his hands on the table, and looked directly into those confused eyes.

"What I need is not a stronger drug, but a more precise target. I need a drug that works only on the brain's satiety center and absolutely does not affect the heart valves. Even if its weight loss effect is only 80% of Fen-Phen's, as long as it is safe, it will be a gift from God."

"In this coming chaotic world, 'not making mistakes' is more important than 'running fast'."

Arthur took off his glasses, rubbed his tired eyes, and fell into deep thought.

After a long while, as if remembering something, he turned and walked to a filing cabinet in the corner. The cabinet was covered in dust, clearly untouched for a long time. He rummaged through it for a while and pulled out a dusty document.

"Actually...we had a project two years ago," Arthur said hesitantly, brushing the dust off the documents. "Code name W-97. It was a highly selective 5-HT2C receptor agonist. Its structure was specially modified so that, theoretically, it would only bind to appetite control receptors in the brain, and had extremely low affinity for 5-HT2B receptors on heart valves."

"Why did it stop?" Victor asked, his eyes sharp.

"Because it wasn't 'explosive' enough." Arthur gave a wry smile and spread his hands. "In animal studies, it was about 20% slower at causing weight loss than Fen-Phen. At the time, the marketing department thought the drug lacked competitiveness; it was like trying to race a Ferrari in a Volvo. Consumers only wanted speed, not safety."

Victor's eyes lit up.

He walked over, took the document from him, and quickly flipped through it.

"Volvo may not be the fastest, but it gets passengers safely to their destination. Ferrari, on the other hand... sometimes crashes right before the finish line."

Victor quickly scanned the experimental data. High selectivity, low side effects, no risk of cardiotoxicity...

This is exactly the "perfect product" he needs.

"Reboot Project W-97." Victor closed the file, his voice brimming with excitement. "No, from today onwards, its codename is 'Apollo'."

"Apollo, the sun god, brings light and healing. He is also the god who shot down the giant serpent Piton."

"But sir, if we want to prove its safety, we need to conduct large-scale comparative experiments..." Arthur said, somewhat troubled.

"Then let's do it."

Victor pulled a checkbook from his suit pocket, scribbled down a string of numbers, tore it off, and slammed it on the table.

"Fifty million US dollars."

Arthur stared at the zero on the check and swallowed hard.

"I want you to conduct a head-to-head comparative study. On the left is our 'Apollo,' and on the right is Wyeth's 'Fen-Phen.' Use the most rigorous standards and the most precise instruments to compare their heart slices under a microscope."

Victor lit his cigar, took a deep drag, and exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Money is not an issue. What I need is irrefutable evidence. When the flood comes, I want the whole world to see that only our ark is leak-proof. I want this report to be the final nail that nails Wyeth to the coffin."

"Furthermore, this project is classified as top secret. I don't want anyone outside of those of you here to know what we're doing. When the time is right, we'll give the world a surprise."

Dr. Arthur looked at the check in his hand, then at Victor's cold, stern face. He suddenly realized that this was not just a new drug development project, but a meticulously planned trap.

Science is not an end in itself, but a weapon.

"Understood, sir." Arthur straightened his back, his eyes regaining their fervor. "We will prove that 'Apollo' is perfect."

"Very good." Victor turned and walked towards the door.

He stopped when his hand gripped the doorknob.

Sofia was standing at the door waiting for him, holding a copy of that day's Washington Post.

“Daniel Green has taken the bait.” Sophia handed him the newspaper, pointing to a column. “In his column, he subtly mentioned that ‘a certain popular weight-loss drug’ might have hidden dangers. Although he didn’t name names, the finger is aimed at Wyeth’s Fen-Phen. This report has already caught the attention of some people within the FDA.”

"Very good." Victor took the newspaper, glanced at it, and said, "Let him dig. The deeper he digs, the faster Wyeth will die. He thinks he's revealing the truth, but he's actually clearing the way for us."

"When Wyeth collapses, our 'Apollo' will emerge as a 'safer and more effective' alternative and take over this huge market vacuum."

"Are you really sure 'Apollo' is okay?" Sofia looked at him, a hint of worry flashing in her eyes. "After all, it's a new drug."

Victor glanced back at the busy scientists and the restarted W-97 project documents.

"This time, we stand with science, Sophia. Because truth is the sharpest weapon."

"Besides, even if there are problems, we have two years to 'correct' the data, don't we?"

He pushed open the door and strode out. The light in the corridor cast a long shadow of him, like a raptor spreading its wings to take flight.

"The opportunity has arrived. This wind will blow pigs into the sky. And what we need to do is become the eagle that flies the highest."