Chapter 224
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 224
Chapter Title: Compounding and Manufacturing Are Strictly Different
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Compounding and manufacturing are strictly different.
Compounded medicines are custom drugs prepared by pharmacists or herbal dispensers according to a doctor's or Korean medicine practitioner's prescription, tailored to each patient—the dosage, form, and ingredients can all vary. Manufactured medicines, on the other hand, are mass-produced by pharmaceutical companies.
The outpatient decoction room also operates on the principle of making only as much medicine as ordered.
Of course, slipping an extra ointment or two for family use is common enough to let slide, but pre-making a thousand units and exporting them without proper procedures?
That was bound to cause issues one way or another.
So I clearly conveyed my refusal.
Faisal rested his chin on one hand, seriously discussing something with his secretaries.
What could they be talking about?
'Sorry, that's a shame.' What else was there to say?
I nudged the interpreter who'd been relaying messages to me up to now.
After getting Faisal's permission, the interpreter passed on the response.
"They say they'll compile a list of promising pharmaceutical companies by tomorrow and, while in Korea, hold meetings to seal contracts."
"Huh? No, wait. Hold on."
I'd meant no, not bring in pharmaceutical companies!
I hurriedly reined them in.
As I'd told Park Seonyun when she pitched the business idea before, even if the formulation changed, it was still herbal medicine at heart.
This wasn't something to distribute willy-nilly without guidance from Korean medicine doctors or herbalists. Didn't their country's pharmacists know zilch about it?
"That's not what I meant!"
I explained the situation at length.
"OK. I understand."
Faisal grinned, declaring that everyone got it.
...Huh? Did they really?
You'd expect disappointment after a rejection, but Faisal looked triumphant, like he'd clinched a flawless deal.
Staring into my eyes, he seized my right hand with both of his.
"What?"
What was that?
I couldn't make out a single word, but goosebumps prickled my skin anyway, and I stepped back.
Click! Click! Click! Click!
Reporters who'd trailed them from Saudi Arabia unleashed a barrage of shutter snaps.
"W-what is this?"
Don't keep it just between you all—fill us in!
Thankfully, the bewilderment shared by me and every other Korean present was soon cleared up.
"His Highness says he can handle all the minor details. He asked if you'd become the royal physician."
And once more, I clawed at my hair in frustration.
I hadn't understood a lick! How'd it twist into that? What exactly did you "understand"?
I shot the interpreter a glare, but he calmly relayed Faisal's words.
"For production, distribution, legalities, and systemic hurdles, if we pour big investments into each country's pharma companies, they'll figure it out."
"..."
"We get the need for specialized Korean medicine doctors and herbalists too—and if possible, he hopes the director herself would come."
Damn, so he did understand.
Then came offers of a six-figure annual salary in dollars, plus housing, a car, and more.
He called it a tough ask, but he wanted to share the miracle he'd witnessed today with his people.
"Miracle...?"
"Yes, that's how he put it."
"Hmm."
I put on a show of mulling it over.
The wording was over the top, but honestly, it was a request I knew well.
Back in the murim world, treating a big-shot magnate once always led to annual pleas to become their personal physician.
"Thank you for the overly generous offer, but I'm afraid it's not possible. I just love seeing patients at the clinic."
The answer was always no.
Tending to one person or family might be simpler, but I preferred treating crowds of patients.
Not some high-minded utilitarian duty to maximize lives saved—just the joy of connecting with all sorts of people. The pride from cracking tough, unusual cases didn't hurt either.
That's why, when I threw in with the Sichuan Tang family, I'd pushed hard to open the clinic to common folk too.
"Ah, sure, the royal hospital would offer great opportunities, but this place suits me."
The salary was insanely generous. Really, truly, unbelievably so.
I didn't hate money.
Having it beat lacking it; more beat less...!
But I'd learned the hard way that excess cash just sat there, unused.
Only then did regret flicker across Faisal's face.
"Then no helping it. He respects your wishes."
At the same time, he seemed half-prepared for the turndown.
Had this prince done plenty of headhunting before?
Like whisking a chef straight to his palace after a killer meal?
"No other Korean medicine doctors in Saudi?"
I asked Ahmed.
Come to think, hadn't he promised to check last time?
"A few Chinese medicine practitioners, but none gave my contacts results as dramatic as mine. Some were okay with it and got treatment."
"Ah..."
"Ahem, His Highness went overboard with the ask. I figured direct acupuncture from you would fast-track things, but not this impressed."
"So you brought me deliberately."
My glare made Ahmed flash an awkward smile.
Then, far more grounded than the prince's wild pitch, he floated another idea.
"Personally, I'd like a Japanese-style formulation setup. Set up a department at the royal hospital, hire Korean or Chinese medicine docs, import your network's herbals in formulated versions for prescribing. Not full custom compounding, but a solid alternative, no?"
Ahmed pitched it to Faisal too.
Faisal marveled like it was brand-new.
'Collusion? Or is the ambassador the mastermind?'
Either way, solid thinking.
He'd clearly vetted Korea's, China's, and Japan's systems ahead.
As Ahmed described, Japanese docs pick the closest matching formula instead of listing every herb.
Pharma firms already peddle powders of Kakkonto, Galgeuntang, Bojungikgi-tang, Yeongyo-chulgan-tang—you name it.
Korea's insurance herbals lean on them too.
"Hmm..."
Ahmed and Faisal fixed expectant gazes on me.
"That leaves us with zero downside... But a thousand-unit runs might be peanuts for pharma. Hmm, if developing products anyway, we'd need way bigger volumes to make it worth..."
No backing down now.
Zero real losses on our end.
Hiring collab? Vet folks and ship 'em out—easy.
I had zero itch to ditch my hard-won homeland, but big bucks would lure a Korean doc or two abroad.
Formulation dev was similar.
Share our supplier and my scripts, pocket licensing fees, pharma handles the grind?
Questioned their math, but heavy investment might sway 'em.
"Ah, one sec."
One pharma firm came to mind that'd bend over backward for us.
"Line up PK for sure. Director Park Seonyun's hot on our decoction room."
"Oh? Naturally on the list. Thanks for the green light."
Twice I swore off business growth—yet here we are.
Ah! Screw it!
They'd vet and greenlight if viable!
I cheered Faisal to nail it.
Beaming satisfaction, he bade me farewell.
"May divine grace be upon you... Until next week."
I sighed.
Next week, minimal guards sans the entourage, please.
"PK'll bite, I bet. They seem geared up. Middle East entry'd thrill 'em."
As the herd prepped to stampede out, Jeon Yuri tipped me off.
Even I figured no flat-out no, details aside.
"Director Park'll kick herself for missing this."
Jeon Yuri tittered.
"Ms. Jeon, what's your angle tagging along? Not bio, right?"
"Eh, just wanted to buddy up. Building needs networking."
She'd finally leveled up, sliding me a card.
- LS Soft Director Jeon Yuri
Right—she'd crashed Chairman Choi Gwijae's birthday, cozied with the ambassador early.
"Tough grind..."
"Pfft. Bottom-rung to boardroom demands it."
Hmm, corporate life's brutal.
Chaebol heirs tail granny's hikes doggedly; she'd amp it harder.
"Director, additional interview okay?"
Post-prince, ambassador, and crew, Korean press lingered.
Blabbing private biz plans aloud had drawn 'em.
"Zilch pre-briefed; that's the lot. Reviews pending. If it flies, huge for foreign patients, Korean med's global push."
Nothing juicy? Conservative answers wrapped the rest.
Click! Click! Click! Click!
Shutter hell, over at last.
"Whew, finally clear."
Press and cams gone, I crashed on the waiting room sofa, drained.
Normal shift turned circus?
Time for ten patients: two. Head pounded from unscripted fretting.
Warn a girl!
"Director, great job."
"Thanks."
Seo Inae fetched honey water, passed one to An Juhee.
An Juhee ventured,
"Think it'll happen?"
"Dunno. Does, Teacher Juhee's swamped."
"Overseas push..."
Silent post-herb spiel, but her face lit with faint hope.
"Um."
Doze-time, crisis over.
One holdout shuffled forward.
"Ah, turtle-neck reporter. Leave something?"
Sensed her, figured lost item.
"Treatment? Neck twinge on turns?"
Engaged, probed intent.
Unlike question-rushers, she'd hovered door-awkward.
Many? Article fodder fine.
Too mousy for press?
"Actually, different errand... crowd overload..."
"Pardon?"
Different?
Me, An Juhee, Seo Inae cocked heads in sync.
"Th-the Miryang herb scam bust... wanna cover... pre-contacted..."
Ah! Local rag! Right, interview request.
Not rude horde—booked proper.
Said drop by any Mon/Wed/Fri.
Crowd crush blacked it out.
"Sorry! Have a seat!"