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

A short while later, the carved door of the private room was opened by a waiter.

Kenji Tanaka walked in with his executive team.

"Mr. Corleone."

Tanaka stopped five meters away from Victor and bowed deeply, almost at a 90-degree angle. His forehead nearly touched his knees, and he held the bow for a full five seconds.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Victor didn't even stand up; he simply pointed casually to the chair opposite him.

"Please sit down, Mr. Tanaka. The snow view here is quite nice, isn't it? I've heard that you can see the Emperor's residence from here. I wonder if the people inside feel the chill in this cold winter."

Tanaka straightened up awkwardly and led his men to sit down obsequiously. This posture, initially arrogant but later obsequious, was exactly like that of a "collaborator" from a defeated nation. The Japanese national character was fully exposed at this moment—they would show surprising subservience in the face of the strong.

"Since you're here, let's get straight to the point." Victor didn't give the other party a chance to catch his breath and directly gestured to Thor with his eyes.

Saul shoved a two-hundred-page document in front of Tanaka. The title on the cover stung Tanaka's eyes: "Debt Restructuring and Equity Transfer Agreement."

"This is a bridge loan agreement?" Vice President Yamamoto eagerly flipped through it, his hands trembling as he read. "Six hundred million US dollars? 15% annual interest? Plus a 3% arrangement fee? This..."

"Don't rush to look at the interest. That's small change," Victor said calmly. "Turn to page 42 and look at the contract terms."

Tanaka took the document, turned to that page, and his face instantly turned deathly pale.

In exchange, Wot Pharmaceuticals will acquire 51% of Sakura Pharmaceuticals' "super preferred stock." This stock carries veto power and can be converted into common stock at any time for $1. Additionally, Wot Pharmaceuticals will appoint four of the seven seats on Sakura Pharmaceuticals' board of directors.

"Moreover," Victor added, "the agreement includes a 'triggering default clause.' If Sakura Pharmaceuticals defaults on any of its other debts, Water Pharmaceuticals has the right to immediately take over all of the company's assets without shareholder approval."

"Look at page 68, 'Transfer of Intellectual Property Rights'," Victor pointed to the document. "All existing patents of Sakura Pharmaceuticals must be licensed to Wote Pharmaceuticals free of charge for use worldwide. Furthermore, Wote Pharmaceuticals has the right of first refusal for all new patents generated within the next ten years."

"This is impossible!" Yamamoto exclaimed. "This is like giving the company away for free! What kind of investment is this? This is robbery! This is blatant takeover! Our net worth may have shrunk, but our brand value and distribution channels are still there..."

"Your net worth is negative."

"Mr. Yamamoto, please understand the situation. The Sumitomo Bank representative in the lobby downstairs won't be more patient than me. If you don't sign, I'll leave in ten minutes and head to the airport to return to New York. Tomorrow morning, the court seal will be affixed to your office door. You'll be ousted penniless, unable to even collect your pension. Your family will be disgraced by bankruptcy, your name will be etched on the pillar of shame, and your daughter will be expelled from her prestigious school because she can't afford the tuition."

"You..." Yamamoto wanted to retort, but Tanaka stopped him.

Kenji Tanaka clenched his fists tightly under the table. He remembered his father's dying words: "No matter what, protect the Sakura Pharmaceutical brand."

Does he have a choice now?

Victor wasn't consulting him; he was informing him. This was a victor's judgment over the loser, the jungle law hidden beneath the guise of modern commercial civilization. The strong must ruthlessly humiliate the weak!

"A pen." Tanaka's voice was dry and hoarse.

"President! We can't sign! If we sign, we're really finished! We can go to Mitsubishi, go to Mitsui..." Yamamoto pleaded, his voice trembling with tears, and even reached out to grab Tanaka's sleeve.

"Who are you looking for?!" Tanaka suddenly roared, shaking off Yamamoto's hand. "You think I haven't looked? You saw Sato's face in the lobby just now! They're all waiting to devour our corpses! Those so-called allies can't wait for us to die so they can grab our market share! Only Mr. Corleone... only he can keep us alive!"

Give me a pen!

The secretary nervously handed over the pen.

Tanaka trembled as he signed his name on the last page of the agreement. Each stroke felt like cutting into his own flesh.

But the next second, something completely unexpected happened.

Just moments before, Tanaka had been filled with grief and indignation, looking as if he had lost his parents. Now, he straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and forced an extremely obsequious smile onto his face. He held the signed agreement with both hands and respectfully handed it to Victor, as if presenting a letter of credence.

"Mr. Corleone... no, Mr. Chairman." Tanaka bowed even lower. "Thank you for your generosity. You are the savior of Sakura Pharmaceuticals. From today onwards, all employees of Sakura Pharmaceuticals will follow your lead. You are the true business emperor. We were blind to your greatness before and offended your might."

The speed at which this person changed their expression was so fast that even Thor, who was used to seeing big scenes, felt a chill.

This is a typical survival philosophy of powerful clans: since resistance is futile, utter submission is the only option. Not only must they submit, but they must also fawn over their new masters more eagerly than anyone else, in order to secure a place in the new order. The so-called Bushido spirit, in the face of survival instinct, is nothing more than toilet paper.

"Very good." Victor put away the agreement and handed it to Saul. "Saul, notify the New York headquarters to make the SWIFT wire transfer. Send the receipt to Sumitomo Bank and have them remove the dogs from the lobby. Also, have the public relations department release a press release: Vought Pharmaceuticals has successfully made a 'strategic investment' in Sakura Pharmaceuticals, which is a model of US-Japan trade cooperation."

"Yes, boss."

“There’s one more thing.” Victor stood up, staring at Tanaka. “I have no interest in your inflated real estate and golf courses. They’re the remnants of a bubble. Sell them all and get your money back.”

"Sell them all?" Tanaka hesitated for a moment, then asked cautiously, "But Mr. Chairman, land prices are still falling. Selling now would be like taking a loss... Could we wait and see if they rebound next year...?"

"Sell it. No matter how much we lose. We want to operate with a lean asset model."

"Keep only one thing."

He pulled a pre-prepared due diligence report from his briefcase and flipped to the last few pages. An inconspicuous subsidiary was circled in red on it.

"I've seen your R&D pipeline and balance sheet." Victor pointed to one of the lines, "a small Osaka company you acquired three years ago—'Sakura Blood Products Co., Ltd.'"

Tanaka looked somewhat bewildered, struggling to recall this peripheral business: "That? That department has been consistently losing money because blood collection costs are high and regulations are troublesome. We were planning to shut it down next month; those patents were just to meet the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare's research targets..."

"Foolish." Victor sneered, looking at him as if he were an idiot. "You're sitting on a gold mine, but all you're doing is speculating on land."

"A gold mine?"

"It holds several patents on 'cryoprecipitate' and 'Factor VIII' concentration technologies, as well as a network of blood collection stations established in Southeast Asia." Victor's tone turned serious. "These patents are worthless to you, but in my hands, they are money-printing machines."

Tanaka blinked in confusion, clearly unable to understand.

"Listen, Tanaka," Victor stepped closer and lowered his voice, "Do you know what the world needs most right now? It's not oil, it's not chips, it's clean blood."

"Keep this department and allocate all the resources from the sale of the real estate to it. I want those patents, and every blood collection point you've established in Asia. I want to expand it into the largest plasma fractionation center in all of Asia."

"But why?" Tanaka asked, puzzled. "It's just some insignificant blood business. The profit margin is very low, and the risks are..."

"Risk? You mean AIDS?"

"In the current market, due to the lack of effective screening methods, blood banks are being contaminated. Hemophilia patients are panicking; they dare not receive blood transfusions because every transfusion feels like playing Russian roulette."

"But what if we could provide absolutely safe clotting factors that have undergone 'virus inactivation' treatment? What if we could use your technology to fractionate plasma like oil, extracting albumin, immunoglobulins, and clotting factors?"

"This..." Tanaka seemed to understand something.

"In this day and age, blood is liquid gold. As the fear of AIDS spreads, traditional whole blood transfusions are being phased out, replaced by highly purified blood products. Mastering clotting factor technology is equivalent to holding the lifeline of countless hemophilia patients in our hands. They must use our products for life, or they will bleed to death."

"This is not just a business; it's a monopoly on life. When fear spreads, safety becomes the most expensive commodity."

"This is the next industry that will be even more profitable than real estate," Victor said, looking down at the short-sighted Japanese man. "And in that field, I will be the only god."