Chapter 173
"I didn't expect Minghwa Pharmaceuticals to tank this hard. The fallout's bigger than I thought."
Jo Bongjun flashed a satisfied smile as he checked today's closing price for Minghwa Pharmaceuticals.
Before we got involved, their stock had been hovering around 50,000 won. Now it had plummeted to the late 20,000s.
"I know a few big players. The ones who had money in Minghwa are pulling out everything they can afford to lose. I didn't jump in first to tell 'em to sell—just badmouthing the outlook every time they call. Heh."
He pulled out his phone and showed me his call log. I couldn't make heads or tails of it, but his words rang true. Without the whales moving, a drop like this would've been impossible.
"Minghwa's gotta be shitting bricks by now. Investors won't sit quiet—they're probably demanding answers left and right."
A slow halve over a year was one thing, but halving in half a month? Red flag city. Folks were dumping shares left and right just watching the price bleed, no astroturfing needed.
Our comment bots still had work, though. Minghwa had unleashed their own, turning the nets into a battlefield.
"Wonder how Minghwa'll play this next."
The medical reporter who'd broken the original story had burned through our tip but kept digging for follow-ups on her own. Competition was fierce, though. Scribes wanted the exclusive after the handout.
They were tapping sources everywhere—pestering Minghwa insiders, begging experts to analyze Antrozol Alpha's ingredients. TV stations would jump in soon. Terrestrial trust outranked net rags, so they'd waited for ironclad proof. But cable had already name-dropped it in segments.
Two weeks in, they'd vetted enough. Main news would hit any day.
Everything was flowing our way.
"Antrozol Alpha's toast at this rate. Fuckers—most arthritis sufferers are middle-aged or older. Think they don't know the prime earning years are pissed-off kids with suffering parents? Net's a beast these days."
Jo Bongjun was half-drunk on victory. Choi Jonghyeon too.
But smooth sailing didn't mean hands off the wheel.
"Wooshin's got cards up their sleeve."
"Cards?"
"Strictly speaking, Antrozol Alpha's just a means to an end for them."
"Right."
"Like we talked—rights offering, Geumsan Card acquisition, cash grab. Not some affiliate hiccup; it's Wooshin Group's big leap. They knew about aphylatilen and lopetamin, started anyway. No way they didn't prep for backlash."
"Sure, they predicted trouble. But using dodgy ingredients? That's fact, exposed. How do they spin it?"
Jo Bongjun crossed his arms.
"Best they can do is flood with 'it's not that bad' reports. Bad study, low risk, whatever."
Choi Jonghyeon chimed in; Jo nodded.
"Nothing else. But probes are underway everywhere. Even if they drop 'no issue' docs, we debunk. Hell, dropping 'em now is admitting guilt post-red flags."
He snorted.
Results soon enough. No need to rain on their parade yet.
"Better safe than sorry."
I brushed it off.
[Minghwa Pharmaceuticals announced there are no issues whatsoever with aphylatilen and lopetamin, the controversial ingredients in Antrozol Alpha. According to their research, while those two can elevate cardiovascular risks when combined, another component—hyizolam—inhibits that effect. The Korea Food and Drug Administration cited the paper, stating no basis to revoke approval.]
Days later, Minghwa hit every channel with their rebuttal. Backed by the FDA, no less.
Three clean trials; their study proved it. Stations aired visuals of hyizolam neutralizing the reaction. Conducted by a top U.S. lab, published in a prestige journal—they plastered it everywhere. Official site linked the journal; trials open for perusal. "Verify yourself if skeptical."
Identical to my past-life memory. Perfect pitch for rattled investors: Own your confidence.
Wooshin cash made it spread like fire.
Stock forums reignited with Minghwa sob stories. Our bots fought back: "Really trustworthy?"
Time for morale chow.
"Didn't see this coming. Thought they'd just deny. Admit side effects but claim hyizolam blocks? Hah…"
Jo Bongjun sighed gustily. Choi Jonghyeon looked shell-shocked.
Expected. But I couldn't tip specifics—unwise.
I'd fudged past intel as "tips" before. This? Had to be insider. They'd sniff for ID. Ghost source risky.
They'd rebound; I knew the counters.
"Textbook."
"Huh?"
"Papers crammed with English jargon. Lures normies/experts to nod off unless fact-checking hardcore."
"So the paper's bullshit?"
"Nah. Covers hyizolam's mitigation. But trustworthy? Dig."
"…They hyped the lab/journal. Checked—legit."
Jo showed search.
Yep.
"That lab? Under fire for faked trial logs."
I dropped printouts.
"Four busts from '03-'09. Exec pressure. Hyizolam study: 2007."
"…So this paper might ride faked data."
"Bingo. Plus, check the authors. Korean: Lee Junseong."
"Korean, yeah."
"Minghwa employee since '03."
I highlighted; Choi grabbed it, scanned.
"Hyizolam research Wooshin-funded. He liaised."
"…Fucking bastards."
"Stopped here pre-meet. Expert analysis'll unearth more."
They devoured the stack, mute.
I waited.
"Minghwa's playing dirty, confirmed."
"Verify deeper. They won't drop more; hold net line, blast the fraud."
"FDA pricks too cozy. In cahoots?"
"Likely."
"Fucking shitheads…"
Jo facepalmed, thrashed, cursed agency and pharma.
Then gathered papers, eyed me sly.
"Hey, Lawyer Cha."
"Yeah."
"When'd you dig all this?"
Pre-known; light search. But non-expert deep-dive? Nah. Await experts.
No need sharing.
"Checking lab cred snowballed."
"Makes sense."
"Told ya—Lawyer Cha's possessed. Read my fortune later."
Choi teased, stood patting knees.
Grub time. Mountains ahead.
Food word worked; Jo dropped docs, stretched.
"Pork belly, hyung?"
"Hell yeah!"
No more questions. Whew.