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

One week later. Wall Street.

The quarterly earnings call for Vought Pharmaceuticals is underway.

Victor's voice was transmitted to investors around the world through a high-fidelity microphone. His voice sounded relaxed, confident, and even a little cheerful.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that the 'legacy litigation issues' that have plagued the company have been completely resolved."

"Under the settlement approved by the Delaware court, our one-time expense was locked at $6 million. This expense has been included in the last quarter's profit and loss statement as a 'non-recurring item' deduction."

A slight commotion came from the other end of the phone. Dozens of top Wall Street analysts were typing rapidly on their keyboards; in that single minute, hundreds of millions of dollars flowed into Waterstock.

"What does this mean?" asked Goldman Sachs' chief pharmaceutical analyst. "Does it mean there will be no more related legal risks in the future?"

"Absolutely correct."

Victor leaned back in his chair, twirling the gold pen in his hand.

"All claimants have signed waivers. Legally, this case is closed."

"We do not admit any wrongdoing; we are simply trying to avoid wasting shareholders' time on lengthy legal proceedings. After all, time is money, and we are responsible for every penny of our shareholders' money."

"This is truly good news," exclaimed an analyst at Morgan Stanley. "So, will this $6 million expenditure put pressure on this year's cash flow?"

Victor glanced at the CFO beside him.

The CFO understood immediately and leaned closer to the microphone to add, "In fact, this expense is entirely within our budget."

"Don't forget, our core business is performing strongly. Although the patent protection period for 'Watan' has ended, the brand premium still exists, and it remains the first choice for middle-class people to treat anxiety."

"The market share of 'Focus on ADHD' has exceeded 60%, and more and more parents are paying for it to improve their children's grades."

"In addition, our newly acquired Sakura Pharmaceuticals brings a monopoly on blood products, and Water's trump card, OxyContin, has an extremely high market share..."

"In short, this $6 million is only equivalent to 4.5% of our total revenue last year."

"Furthermore, according to the latest interpretation of Section 162(f) of the U.S. tax code, although penalties are not tax-deductible, 'compensatory damages' are tax-deductible as business expenses."

"Given that it can offset approximately $2 million in corporate income tax, the company's actual net expenditure is only around $4 million."

"Perfect," the analysts said in unison.

For Wall Street, the number of deaths is not important.

Twenty thousand people? Thirty thousand people? That's just one cell in an Excel spreadsheet.

The important thing is that "uncertainty" has been eliminated.

The stock market's biggest fear is not bad news, but "bad news that doesn't know where the bottom is."

Now, the bottom line has been found—it's $6 million.

This is nothing more than a superficial injury for the Water Empire, which has revenues exceeding $130 billion this year.

It wasn't even a minor injury; it was more like a mosquito bite that I could just scratch and it would be over.

......

After the conference call ended, the office fell silent. Everyone slowly left, leaving only Saul and Victor.

Saul let out a long sigh of relief: "It's over. Boss, it's really over. The stock price just went up 8%, and the market value increased by $20 billion."

They spent 6 million to resolve the problem, but the company's market value increased by 20 billion. This is a wildly profitable business deal!

"That Barry Hines, that mad dog of a host," Victor suddenly said, "get me in touch with him."

"What? That guy who called you a 'vampire'?" Thor was surprised. "Are you going to sue him? Or just shut him up?"

"No, I want to hire him."

"He's a genius. He knows how to manipulate public emotions and how to motivate anger. It's a waste of his talent for him to stay in that third-rate media."

"The harsher he criticizes me, the higher the ratings. This shows he understands human nature."

"He's wasting his talents in that third-rate media. I'm going to make him our mouthpiece. Give him five times his annual salary and let him be a public relations consultant for Water Pharmaceuticals."

"If a similar crisis occurs again in the future, I want him to point the finger at the person I want him to point it at."

Saul paused for a moment, then showed an expression of admiration. He took out his small notebook and wrote it down.

"Boss, you really are... calculating everyone to the core."

"Sol, do you know what I learned today?"

"What? A victory for the law?"

"No." Victor shook his head, his eyes terrifyingly empty and unfathomable. "I learned about the 'exchange rate of life'."

He breathed on the glass of the French windows and wrote a number on the white mist with his finger: 2.

"A person is priceless. Everyone knows that. It's written in textbooks, it's what pastors say in church."

He added a few more zeros to the end, making the number 20,000.

"But 20,000 people... 20,000 people is just a statistic. It's a cost item that can be calculated, hedged, and bought out."

"Just as we need flour and sugar coating to produce pills, we sometimes need to consume some 'human resources' to produce profits."

Victor turned around and looked at Thor, his face expressionless, as if they had just been discussing a batch of expired supplies.

"As long as the profit is high enough to cover the 'cost,' then killing... no, 'causing accidental death' is a reasonable business model."

"This is not just an arithmetic problem; it is the ultimate logic of capitalism."

"If you kill one person, you are a murderer; if you kill a million people, you are a conqueror; if you kill 20,000 people and pay 600 million in compensation, you are a 'socially responsible entrepreneur'."

Even Thor felt a chill run down his spine this time.

He had followed Victor for so many years, and had seen his greed and his ruthlessness, but he had never felt that inhuman quality so clearly as he did now.

The man before me has been completely alienated by capitalism.

He is no longer a human being with flesh and blood, but a profit-devouring machine, an algorithm in human skin.

In that machine's algorithm, morality, law, and humanity are all liabilities that must be stripped away.

Only profits are eternal.

Fortunately, he is very generous. He is never stingy with money for useful and loyal people and is used to giving them extra money!

Saul touched the huge check he had just received in his pocket, and the slight fear in his heart was quickly suppressed.

......

At the same time, on the edge of New Jersey.

In the motel, Mudd stared blankly at a package on the table.

The package had no sender's address, only a printed label. He had seen it at the door ten minutes earlier, like a gift left by a ghost.

He carefully unpacked the package. Inside was a black Motorola pager and an unsigned letter.

The letter was short, pieced together from words cut from newspapers, and had a cheap, B-movie horror feel to it.

"We have a common enemy: V."

"If you want to see him bleed, then cooperate."

"Please put this letter back in the third blue mailbox in the north hall of Union Station by Wednesday of this week. We will contact you."

Mude's fingers traced the words.

A common enemy.

He remembered the CBS studio show being abruptly terminated, Miller's desperate look, and the trust Dr. Liang had placed in him.

The law is dead.

It became a shield for the rich and a noose for the poor.

The media is dead.

It has become a mouthpiece of capital and a clown for entertaining the masses.

All paths to justice have been blocked. This is not just a wall, it is a cage, an elaborately designed cage from which there is no escape.

Prisoner A's words echoed in his ears again, like a spell:

"If you really want to hurt them, don't play by their rules. The law is the game rule set by the immortals; you can't beat the house."

Mude stood up, walked to the sink, and looked at himself in the mirror.

His beard was unkempt, his eyes sunken, and his gaze was filled with weariness and despair. The FBI agent who once believed in the law and procedural justice was dead.

He died in a Delaware court, in the midst of that $20,000 agreement.

"Then flip the table."

He grabbed the razor and shaved off his stubble. Blood seeped out, but he felt no pain.

His eyes changed.

The despondency caused by failure vanished, replaced by a resolute madness, a raging fire reignited from the ashes.

Since light cannot illuminate darkness, then let us become the flames that tear it apart!

Since the law cannot judge the devil, then we will deal with the devil in the devil's own way.

Are kings and nobles born with a special destiny?