Chapter 50
***
The light in the crystal orb went out, and the study fell quiet again.
I closed my notebook and set down my pen.
One of my master's words kept circling in my head.
— ‘We'd need a fourth-rank escort knight, or capital even a ducal house couldn't ignore.’
The moment I heard that, I knew what my problem was.
‘I've only been making medicines that save people.’
Up until now, whenever I made medicine, I had always put reputation first.
Now that I was the protagonist, I wanted to be remembered as the greatest doctor in history, so I had focused on medicines that people urgently needed.
And far from gouging people, I had tried to keep the prices as low as possible for those who needed them.
As part of that effort, we sold quinine to soldiers at half price, and for insulin, our company covered the cost for pediatric patients with congenital diabetes.
Thanks to all that, Director Shun managed to avoid getting the image of a nouveau riche.
But as those actions piled up, my wealth couldn't keep up with my reputation.
‘I focused too much on reputation-building.’
I thought that as long as I became famous in a good way, that would be enough.
I never dreamed it'd lead to a side effect like this.
‘The classic misunderstanding trope.’
The misunderstanding genre is great because life is easy, but that is its downside.
Things don't always go the way I want them to, that's the problem.
‘I need capital. Capital that matches my reputation.’
A fourth-rank escort knight doesn't just fall from the sky.
Rather than waiting until I could make someone like that my own, it'd be more realistic to earn the money myself.
In the first place, hiring a fourth-rank knight required money, so in the end everything came down to money.
‘At last, the time has come to make this.’
I opened the research notebook, bound in a deluxe hardcover, that sat in the corner of the study.
In other words, it was a possession notebook.
The sort of must-have item any possessed person uses to jot down important memories right after being possessed.
When I opened it, I saw my childhood handwriting, still unpolished.
[UK-92480]
One of the first three medicines I wrote down before I even made quinine.
It was one of the three miracle drugs I could realistically make.
Also known as sildenafil.
A drug known to the public as Viagra.
However, there was a minor problem with this drug.
‘It's famous for a slightly different reason than being a life-saving medicine.’
No, to be exact, it does save lives.
It just saves a man's pride, not his life.
There's nothing wrong with the medicine itself.
The only problem was that selling it could put a slight dent in my image.
‘It just doesn't fit Director Shun's image at all.’
Let's think about it.
Imagine a scientist spreading philanthropy by making insulin, quinine, heparin, and the like.
Then, without any context, that scientist suddenly started researching a drug to boost male virility, and began making and selling it.
It just doesn't match the image.
What's more, this world runs on misunderstanding logic.
Depending on the situation, people might even mistake Director Shun's reason for researching it as having worries about his own performance.
‘A story that says I made it with that intention from the start feels a bit off.’
There was only one way to solve this problem.
I had to emphasize that this drug was created unintentionally.
Luckily, if I drew on the real history of Viagra, it wouldn't be difficult.
Viagra was originally made as a heart medicine.
But during clinical trials, it was discovered that it had no effect on heart disease and only had an effect on a completely different part of the body.
And so Viagra established itself as the undisputed king of erectile dysfunction treatments.
The circumstances under which Director Shun made this Viagra also had to be designed that way.
However, here Gustav, the guildmaster, had a more important role than I did.
I was only trying to make a heart medicine; it would be the guildmaster who focused on the side effect.
In other words, I must never look like I intended this from the start.
‘Well, if it's the guildmaster, I guess he can pull it off.’
It's easy to underestimate him because of his nouveau riche image, but the guildmaster is actually quite sharp.
He's also diligent enough to study how the medicines his guild sells work and what they're used for.
A man like that would surely be able to figure out how Viagra could be used.
In the first place, if he were stupid, he wouldn't be able to run a merchant guild of this size.
It wasn't for nothing that I left full authority to him even after becoming co-representative.
‘I'd better contact the guildmaster.’
Strike while the iron's hot.
I immediately reached for the crystal orb.
***
[—For that reason, we absolutely must do clinical trials, Guildmaster. Since it's a heart medicine, it can't have side effects.]
“I’ll keep that in mind, young master.”
[Please persuade the other directors for me.]
“Ho ho. Leave it to me.”
The next day.
After hearing from Julian about the heart medicine, Gustav immediately began drawing up a plan for its development.
‘The young master was sure this drug would become an even bigger cash cow than insulin.’
After hearing the explanation, Gustav had no choice but to agree.
As a rule, medicines that must be taken continuously contribute more to sales than medicines that only treat something briefly.
A prime example is that insulin, used only by diabetes patients, brings in more revenue than quinine, which almost everyone in the South uses.
You take quinine only when you're sick and that's that, but insulin has to be injected every single day.
So even though its patient base is smaller, it contributes more to sales through sheer consistency.
‘A heart medicine would be the same, I suppose.’
A heart medicine, like insulin, has to be taken every day.
What's more, heart medicine is also a blue ocean with no competing drugs.
Of course, there is a heart medicine called digitalis, but its side effects are so severe that it's almost embarrassing to call it competition.
So the heart medicine they were making this time also had a strong chance of becoming a flagship product for the company, right up there with insulin.
‘I have to make sure there are no mistakes.’
Just as insulin had led the company's revival, there could be no mistakes with this heart medicine either.
Accordingly, Gustav convened the board the very next day after receiving the call.
— [What? You want me to come when it's snowing like this?]
— [Just how important a matter is it?]
— [Understood. I'll be there at once.]
And so, the following morning.
Mercure Merchant Guild headquarters, 3rd floor, conference room.
The directors who had braved the blizzard took their seats on both sides of the long table.
One of the directors was busy seeing patients and usually didn't attend board meetings, so he was absent again today.
With seven of the eight directors present, the early-morning emergency board meeting began.
“Sorry for summoning you in weather like this.”
Gustav, who entered the conference room last, waddled toward the seat of honor.
Before Gustav could even sit down, Director Knopf, who had been briefed on the agenda in advance, spoke up.
“Guildmaster. I’ve reviewed all the documents on the heart medicine. Indeed, it certainly has the potential to become one of our guild's long-cherished projects, on par with insulin. If it were me, I’d have called everyone out in this weather to get this drug to market as soon as possible.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“However, I do have one question.”
Knopf said, pressing his brow.
“Clinical trials again?”
There was no real hostility or irritation in his voice.
Only a deep exhaustion seeped through.
Gustav spoke reproachfully to Director Knopf.
“Not ‘again’; this is something we naturally have to do, Director Knopf.”
“I understand what you're saying, Guildmaster. But I'm wondering whether it really has to be done for real.”
Knopf continued, taking off his glasses and wiping them.
“Other merchant guilds don't do things like clinical trials. Not just pharmaceutical guilds—every merchant guild is the same.”
“We've been doing fine until now, so why change?”
“As the guildmaster knows, clinical trials are no small expense. The development costs are being covered entirely by Director Shun, so those are hardly anything, but the clinical trial costs alone now account for seventy percent of the cost price. Wouldn't you be curious what sales would look like if we cut that down?”
….
Gustav seemed a little swayed by Knopf's words.
Merchant guilds in this age did, in fact, operate the way Knopf described.
If there was a problem, they covered it with money; if money didn't work, they sent people. And then they made the problem disappear.
It was far cleaner and more cost-effective.
Gustav knew this very well too.
For that reason, if he had been the guildmaster of a few years ago, he might have agreed with Knopf.
He would have forged the records as if the drug had been clinically tested behind Director Shun's back and released it as is.
But the Gustav of now couldn't do that.
“I understand what you're trying to say, Director Knopf.”
“Then….”
“But there is one point we need to address. Why is this guild able to maintain a monopoly in the vaccine business?”
“Isn't it because Director Shun made the vaccines?”
“No. Consumers aren't that simple. In the market, price always comes first.”
Gustav tapped the table once.
“The vaccine patent has already been made public, other guilds are analyzing the ingredients and making similar medicines, and their prices are lower than ours. And yet consumers still only seek out our product. Do you know why?”
This time, Director Knopf shook his head.
In response, Gustav said:
“It's thanks to these clinical trials. Up until now, we've never once treated clinical trials carelessly. Consumers remember that, which is why they only look for our vaccine. They think the other guilds' vaccines are dangerous, and in fact side effects happen often.”
The conference room fell silent.
“We didn't even promote that fact. What is our guild's slogan now?”
“… A future you can trust.”
“That's right.”
Gustav nodded.
“But as you know, Director Knopf, trust is like a sandcastle. One mistake can make it collapse in an instant.”
“… I was too short-sighted.”
Knopf put his glasses back on and lowered his head.
Gustav waved a hand.
“It's fine. I used to be like that once too. Just don't do it next time. However, there is one thing we need to address.”
“…?”
“As for just now, about trying to deceive Director Shun, I think we need to make that absolutely clear.”
Gustav planted both hands on the table.
The smile vanished from his eyes, which usually carried a hint of mischief.
Along with that, the other directors hardened their expressions and looked at Director Knopf.
In this board meeting, Director Shun was on a completely different level from the other directors.
The other directors were executives who had joined only after the guild had drawn close to first-class status.
By contrast, Director Shun had built this guild up from the brink of collapse to its current position.
What's more, all of this guild's flagship products were born from Director Shun's hands, and they would continue to be.
In the first place, even the title of representative director had been forced onto him because he kept refusing the title of co-managing director.
They knew that well, so none of the directors here dared to offend Director Shun if they could help it.
And yet Director Knopf had suggested deceiving Director Shun and forging the clinical trial results.
He had crossed that line, even if only for a moment.
“Director Knopf, I understand that you've only just come from another guild and haven't fully adjusted yet. But if you work in that manner here, it'll be hard to live out your natural lifespan.”
At Gustav's razor-sharp warning, Director Knopf nodded.
“… I won't do it again.”
“Good.”
Gustav smiled brightly.
“Then I'll call for a vote. We will vote on the budget allocation for the heart medicine clinical trials. Please refer to the attached documents for the budget scale, and speak now if you have any objections.”
No one raised an objection.
The sound of pens brushing over paper filled the conference room.
A moment later, the secretary collected the sheets and tallied them.
“Seven in favor, none against. It is passed.”
“Good.”
Gustav rose from his seat.
“That concludes the morning meeting. After a 30-minute break, we'll discuss how to prepare the distribution network for this medicine.”
*
Break time.
A coffee pot and teacups sat on a table at one side of the conference room.
While Gustav was away for a moment, three directors stood around with cups in hand, chatting.
“By the way.”
One director tilted his teacup and spoke up.
“What brought on the sudden shift to a heart medicine? Director Shun wasn't interested in that sort of thing to begin with, was he?”
“Wasn't it something to do with the scholarship foundation?”
“The scholarship foundation? You mean Director Shun's new hobby?”
“That's right.”
“What does that have to do with heart medicine? Was there a scholarship student with a weak heart or something?”
“Not that. I heard that at the last scholarship dinner, while talking with one of the children, he remembered something called GIK treatment. It's a heart-protective treatment where glucose, insulin, and potassium are mixed together and infused.”
“Ah, I read about that. Thanks to it, insulin sales look like they'll rise even more.”
“I suspect it started there. While researching GIK treatment, he probably realized there wasn't a medicine for the heart itself.”
“So he got an idea from a conversation with one scholarship student and ended up making an entirely new drug?”
The director let out a sigh mixed with admiration and resignation.
“Ho ho. A genius really is different.”
“He's always been that way. He's the one who saw a pig's pancreas and thought of insulin.”
“True enough. How could ordinary people ever understand that genius?”
The directors each nodded and emptied their teacups.
*
After the board meeting ended.
Gustav Piper returned to his office, passing through the headquarters hallway on the third floor.
When he opened the door, his secretary had already arranged the documents on his desk.
“Guildmaster, Director Shun's side contacted us once more while you were in the meeting. It's about the apprentice accounting staff.”
“Ah, right.”
Gustav flopped into his chair and rubbed his forehead.
“Miss Valeria... was it?”
“Yes. She is a student scheduled to enter the Imperial Academy's upper division this year.”
“Hmm.”
Gustav skimmed the documents his secretary handed over.
Attached were a scholarship foundation résumé, transcript, and Director Shun's letter of recommendation.
“If it's Director Shun's request, then of course.”
Gustav said, setting the papers down.
“Tell her she'll be doing apprentice accounting work here before entering the upper division to build up experience.”
“Even if it's Director Shun's request, is it all right to assign such work to a student?”
“All the other guilds do it too. Upper-division students usually go through one of these apprenticeships before entering the upper division to build up experience.”
“Do students need experience?”
“Professors naturally want to train students with experience as their prized disciples. That's just how the world works.”
“Students have it rough in all sorts of ways.”
Gustav gave a wry smile and looked down at the paperwork.
The girl in the photo had her black hair neatly tied back and wore a gray shawl over her uniform.
For a sixteen-year-old, her eyes were rather cool, giving the impression that she'd handle any task with crisp efficiency.
“First, let's send her a copy of the ledgers we handled five years ago as an assignment. It will also serve to test how capable she is.”
As he looked down at the girl's photo, Gustav thought.
‘Of all times to come for a visit. She's really a lucky scholarship student.’