Entering Society, Part 3
The light of the crystal ball dimmed, and silence reclaimed the study. I closed my notebook and set down my pen. A single piece of advice from my mentor kept echoing in my mind: “You will need either a guard knight of at least the 4th Tier, or capital so vast that even a ducal house cannot ignore you.”
The moment I heard those words, my core problem became glaringly obvious. I've spent too much time making medicines that only save lives.
Until now, I had always prioritized reputation when developing drugs. Since I had been reincarnated as the protagonist of this life, I wanted to be remembered as the greatest doctor in history. Consequently, I had focused primarily on urgent, life-saving medications. I hadn't even gouged prices; instead, I had done everything in my power to keep them as low as possible for those in need.
As part of that effort, we sold Quinine to the military at half price, and our company fully subsidized the cost of Insulin for children with congenital diabetes. Thanks to these charitable endeavors, I managed to prevent Director Shun from being branded as a mere nouveau riche. However, as these deeds accumulated, my wealth failed to keep pace with my soaring reputation.
I focused way too much on grinding reputation. I had assumed that becoming famous for a good cause would solve everything. I never dreamed it would have a side effect like this.
This damn misunderstanding trope. Misunderstandings are great because they make life easy, but this is the catch. Things never go exactly as planned.
I need capital. Capital that actually matches my reputation.
A 4th Tier guard knight wasn't going to fall from the sky. Rather than waiting around until I could somehow recruit one, it was far more realistic to earn the money myself. Besides, hiring a 4th Tier knight required astronomical funds anyway, so in the end, every problem boiled down to cash.
I guess the time has finally come to make this. I opened the leather-bound, high-end research notebook tucked away in the corner of my study. It was my "reincarnator's journal"—the classic, indispensable item for any transmigrator to record crucial memories immediately after arriving in a new world.
As I flipped it open, I saw my own unrefined, childhood handwriting from years ago.
[UK-92480]
Even before I made Quinine, this was one of the first three drugs I had written down. It was one of the Three Sacred Treasures that I could realistically manufacture in this world. Sildenafil—better known to the public as Viagra.
However, there was a minor issue with this drug.
It's famous for something other than saving lives. Well, technically, it does save something. Not a life, but a man's pride. There was nothing wrong with the drug itself. The only problem was that selling it might tarnish my carefully cultivated image.
It clashes completely with Director Shun's image. Think about it. Here is a humanitarian scientist who developed Insulin, Quinine, and Heparin. If that same scientist suddenly, out of nowhere, began researching and selling a drug to enhance male performance... the optics would be terrible.
To make matters worse, this was a world governed by misunderstandings. Depending on how people spun it, they might assume Director Shun researched the drug because he was personally struggling with his own performance.
Yeah, claiming I intended to make it from the start is a terrible idea. There was only one way to solve this. I had to make it look like an accidental discovery. Fortunately, looking at the actual history of how Viagra was created, this wouldn't be difficult.
Viagra was originally developed as a heart medication. However, during clinical trials, it proved ineffective for heart disease, but researchers discovered a peculiar side effect that revived an entirely different part of the body. Thus, Viagra secured its throne as the undisputed king of erectile dysfunction treatments.
I needed to orchestrate Director Shun's development of Sildenafil in the exact same way. However, Gustav Piper, the leader of the merchant coalition, would play a much more critical role in this plan than I would. I had to remain the pure scientist who merely wanted to cure heart disease, while Gustav would be the one to notice and capitalize on the side effect. In other words, I must never appear to have intended this outcome.
Well, Gustav should be more than capable. It was easy to misjudge him due to his stout, wealthy merchant appearance, but the man was incredibly shrewd. He was diligent enough to study the underlying science and applications of every medicine his coalition sold. A man like that would easily grasp how Sildenafil could be utilized.
After all, you couldn't run a merchant coalition of this scale if you were foolish. There was a reason I had left him with full executive authority even after becoming a co-director.
Time to contact the guild leader. Strike while the iron is hot, as they say. I immediately reached for the crystal ball.
"...And for those reasons, we absolutely must conduct clinical trials, Guild Leader. Since it is a heart medication, we cannot afford any unforeseen side effects."
“I will keep that in mind, young master.”
"I leave the task of persuading the other directors to you."
“Haha. Leave it to me.”
The next day. Having heard about the heart medication from Julian, Gustav immediately began drafting a plan for its development.
The young master guaranteed this drug would be an even bigger cash cow than Insulin. After hearing the explanation, Gustav couldn't help but agree. In the pharmaceutical business, maintenance drugs that patients had to take continuously always generated far more revenue than acute treatments that cured an illness quickly.
A prime example was how Insulin, used only by diabetics, generated higher sales than Quinine, which was used by almost everyone on the southern front. Quinine was taken only when one fell ill, but Insulin had to be administered daily. Consequently, despite having a much smaller patient demographic, its recurring nature made it a far more lucrative product.
A heart medication would fall into the same category. Like Insulin, heart medication had to be taken every single day. Furthermore, the market for cardiac drugs was a completely untapped blue ocean. While a drug called digitalis did exist, its side effects were so severe that it could hardly be considered a viable competitor. Thus, this new heart medication was highly likely to become the company's next flagship product, matching or even surpassing Insulin.
There must be no mistakes. Just as Insulin had ushered in the golden age of the Merkur Merchant Guild, this heart medication had to be launched flawlessly. For this reason, Gustav summoned the board of directors the very next day after receiving the call.
And so, the following morning. In the conference room on the third floor of the Merkur Merchant Guild headquarters. The directors, having braved the heavy blizzard, took their seats along both sides of a long table. One of the directors, too busy treating patients to regularly attend board meetings, was absent today as well. With seven out of the eight directors present, the early morning emergency board meeting commenced.
“My apologies for calling you all out in this weather,” Gustav said, waddling toward the head of the table as the last to enter the room. Before Gustav could even sit down, Director Knoff, who had already reviewed the agenda, spoke up.
“Guild Leader, I have thoroughly reviewed the documents regarding the heart medication. It certainly has the potential to become a core, long-term project for our guild, easily on par with Insulin. If it means launching this drug even a day sooner, I would have called a meeting in this weather myself.”
“Thank you for your understanding.”
“However, I do have one question,” Knoff said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are we doing clinical trials again?” His voice carried no malice or irritation—only a profound sense of exhaustion.
Gustav replied in a mildly rebuking tone, “It is not a matter of 'again,' Director Knoff. It is a matter of course.”
“I understand your perspective, Guild Leader. But I must question whether it is truly necessary to go through with it,” Knoff continued, taking off his glasses to wipe them. “Other merchant guilds don't bother with clinical trials. And that's not just pharmaceutical guilds—it's the standard practice for every guild across the continent.”
“We have done perfectly fine so far, so why change now?”
“As you well know, Guild Leader, the cost of clinical trials is astronomical. Since Director Shun bears the development costs entirely on his own, we spend almost nothing on research, but the clinical trials alone account for seventy percent of our production costs. Aren't you curious to see how much our profit margins would soar if we cut this expense?”
“...” For a brief moment, Gustav seemed slightly swayed by Knoff's words. Merchant guilds of this era typically operated exactly as Knoff described. If a problem arose, they covered it up with money. If money failed, they sent hired muscle. In the end, they made sure the problem simply ceased to exist. It was far cleaner and infinitely more cost-effective.
Gustav knew this reality all too well. Indeed, had he been the same guild leader he was a few years ago, he might have agreed with Knoff. He would have forged the clinical trial records behind Director Shun's back and released the drug immediately. But the Gustav of today could not do such a thing.
“I understand what you are trying to say, Director Knoff.”
“Then...”
“However, there is one crucial point we must address. What is the reason our guild currently maintains a monopoly in the vaccine market?”
“Isn't it simply because Director Shun developed them?”
“No. Consumers are not that simple. In any market, price is almost always the deciding factor.” Gustav tapped the table once.
“The vaccine patents have already expired, and other guilds have analyzed the ingredients to manufacture similar drugs at lower prices than ours. Yet, consumers still seek out only our products. Do you know why?”
Director Knoff shook his head this time. Gustav continued, “It is because of these clinical trials. We have never once cut corners on our trials. The consumers remember that, which is why they trust only our vaccines. They view other guilds' vaccines as dangerous—and indeed, those cheap imitations frequently cause severe side effects.”
The conference room fell silent.
“We even use that trust in our marketing. What is our guild's current slogan?”
“...A Future You Can Trust.”
“Exactly,” Gustav nodded.
“But as you well know, Director Knoff, trust is like a castle built on sand. A single mistake can bring it all crashing down in an instant.”
“...My thinking was too short-sighted,” Knoff muttered, putting his glasses back on and bowing his head.
Gustav waved his hand dismissively. “It is fine. I, too, once thought that way. Just do not let it happen again. However, there is one matter we must settle.”
“...?”
“We need to address the fact that you just suggested deceiving Director Shun.”
Gustav placed both hands on the table. The playful glint that usually lingered in his eyes vanished completely. At his shift in demeanor, the other directors stiffened and turned cold gazes toward Director Knoff.
Within this board, Director Shun was a being on an entirely different plane. The other directors were executives who had been recruited only recently, as the guild approached Tier 1 status. In contrast, Director Shun had built this guild up from the brink of ruin to its current heights. Furthermore, every single one of the guild's flagship products had been born from Director Shun's hands, and all future products would be as well.
In fact, his title of 'Director' was merely a compromise because he had repeatedly refused the position of co-owner. Knowing this, none of the directors in this room ever dared to displease Director Shun. Yet, Director Knoff had just proposed deceiving Director Shun and forging clinical trial results. For a brief moment, he had crossed a line that should never be crossed.
“Director Knoff. I understand that you are still adjusting after coming from another guild. But if you work that way here, you will not live a long life.” At Gustav's razor-sharp warning, Director Knoff nodded quickly.
“...I will never do it again.”
“Good,” Gustav smiled warmly.
“Then, let us put it to a vote. We will now vote on the budget allocation for the heart medication's clinical trials. Please refer to the attached documents for the budget scale, and if there are any objections, speak now.” No one raised an objection. The sound of pens scratching against paper filled the room. A moment later, the secretary collected and tallied the ballots.
[VOTE RESULT]
Votes in Favor: 7 | Opposed: 0
[PASSED]
“Excellent,” Gustav said, rising from his seat. “That concludes our morning session. We will take a thirty-minute recess, after which we will discuss how to prepare the distribution network for this drug.”
Recess. A coffee pot and teacups were set on a table in the corner of the conference room. While Gustav stepped out briefly, three of the directors stood together, cups in hand, chatting.
“By the way,” one director began, tilting his teacup. “What sudden wind brought about a heart medication? I thought Director Shun had no interest in that field.”
“Wasn't it because of his work with the scholarship foundation?”
“The scholarship foundation? You mean Director Shun's new hobby?”
“Indeed.”
“What does that have to do with heart medication? Did one of the scholarship recipients have a weak heart?”
“Not quite. I heard that during a recent dinner with the scholarship students, he had a conversation with one of the children and came up with something called the 'GIK therapy'—a cardioprotective treatment that infuses a mixture of glucose, insulin, and potassium.”
“Ah, I read about that. It looks like it will boost our Insulin sales even further.”
“That is likely where it started. While researching the GIK therapy, he must have realized there were no proper medications available for the heart itself.”
“So, he gained an idea from a simple conversation with a student and went on to develop an entirely new drug?” The director let out a sigh that was a mix of awe and resignation. “Haha. A genius truly operates on a different level.”
“He has always been that way. This is the same man who looked at a pig's pancreas and envisioned Insulin.”
“Indeed. How could ordinary men like us ever hope to comprehend such a genius?” The directors nodded in unison, draining their teacups.
After the board meeting concluded. Gustav Piper walked down the third-floor corridor of the headquarters and returned to his office. When he opened the door, his secretary had already organized the documents on his desk.
“Guild Leader, while you were in the meeting, Director Shun's side contacted us again. It is regarding the apprentice accountant position.”
“Ah, right.” Gustav slumped into his chair and pinched his forehead. “Miss Valeria... was it?”
“Yes. She is a student scheduled to enter the high school division of the Imperial Academy this year.”
“Hmm.” Gustav scanned the documents handed to him by his secretary. Attached were her scholarship foundation resume, transcript, and a letter of recommendation from Director Shun.
“Well, if it is the director's request,” Gustav said, setting the documents down. “Let them know she will be working here as an apprentice accountant before she enters the high school division.”
“Even if it is Director Shun's request, is it really alright to entrust such duties to a student?”
“Every other guild does the same. High school students usually complete an apprenticeship like this before matriculation to build up their resumes.”
“Do students really need work experience?”
“Professors always prefer to take on students who already have practical experience as their disciples. That is just how the world works.”
“Students certainly have it rough these days.”
Gustav let out a wry chuckle as he looked down at the documents. The girl in the photograph had her black hair neatly tied back, with a gray shawl draped over her school uniform. Though only sixteen, her sharp, cool eyes gave the impression of someone who would handle her work with absolute precision.
“First, let's send her a copy of our ledgers from five years ago as an assignment. It will serve as a good test of her abilities.” Gazing down at the girl's photograph, Gustav thought, To come for an internship at a time like this... She is a very lucky scholarship student indeed.