You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

The representatives from various countries instinctively wanted to back out.

They've already gotten a great deal on these civilian supplies; who knows how much more money this cunning Eastern merchant might swindle from them if they keep looking.

But my feet wouldn't obey me.

Nobody isn't curious.

What kind of amazing treasure must it be that this damned, cunning Eastern merchant has kept as his last trump card?

Each with their own thoughts, the group followed Shen Wang into the small hall at the far end of the exhibition hall.

The small hall is not large, and unlike the spacious and bright exhibition hall outside, this small hall has been deliberately designed to be more private.

The lighting was softer than outside, with only a warm-colored light strip embedded around the ceiling. The light diffused down from the walls, without any glaring direct light, and everything was enveloped in a warm and calming halo.

There was only one booth, covered with a dark gray velvet tablecloth.

There were no dazzling array of goods or mountains of packaging boxes on the stage, only a few glass jars.

They were several very ordinary glass jars, transparent, cylindrical, without any labels or decorations, standing quietly on gray velvet.

Each jar contained some powder, pale yellow and fine, which looked no different from ground cornmeal.

If it weren't placed in this location, anyone passing by would assume it was just an ordinary chemical reagent from a laboratory.

But at this moment, they are placed in a separate exhibition hall at the deepest part of the World's Fair, behind all those amazing goods, at the end of this most solemn exhibition by Eastern merchants.

Everyone stared at the glass jars, frantically searching their minds for the same answer: What is this?

"Shen, what is this?" Morgan asked, frowning, completely unable to see anything special about the powder.

Shen Wang smiled slightly, his voice not loud, yet it struck everyone's ears like a thunderclap:

"This is penicillin!"

boom--!

The entire small hall erupted in chaos.

Everyone froze on the spot, their eyes fixed on the bottles of powder, forgetting even to breathe.

penicillin?

The penicillin that was called a "miracle drug" and could pull soldiers with sepsis and severe infections back from the brink of death?

Currently, only the United States can barely produce it on a small scale in laboratories, and the output is pitifully low!

The market price for a single injection of 10,000 units is so high that you can't even get your hands on one for $100 on the black market!

Ten thousand units of pure penicillin only yield a mere six milligrams!

Six milligrams can be exchanged for eighty grams of gold!

This thing costs a thousand times more than its weight in gold!

It's a life-saving medicine that's a thousand times more valuable than gold!

"Shen! How much is 10,000 units? I'll offer ten US dollars!"

Colonel Mongke was the first to break down, his voice trembling.

For the British Empire's army, this thing was a second life on the battlefield. In the Battle of El Alamein, many soldiers died not from artillery fire, but from infected wounds!

"We'll offer twenty dollars for ten thousand units! We'll take as many as you have!" Speer took a step forward.

On the Eastern Front, German casualties from frostbite and infection were higher than combat losses. With penicillin, non-combat casualties on the Eastern Front could be reduced by half!

"Thirty US dollars! The Soviet Union will take it all!" Ivanov shouted out an exorbitant price, his eyes red as if he were about to rob someone.

The casualties on the Eastern Front were heavy, so this stuff was a strategic resource that we had to buy no matter the cost!

The price-cutting alliance that was once unbreakable crumbled into nothingness in an instant.

All talk of negotiating prices together and maintaining a unified narrative is a joke when it comes to penicillin.

Getting it is a win; every extra 10,000 units means saving an extra soldier and preserving more fighting strength.

Morgan Jr. was also getting anxious. He knew all too well the profits involved. Even at $100 a shot, let alone $30, hospitals and the wealthy would be scrambling to buy it. It was a monopolistic business with guaranteed profits!

Shen Wang simply smiled and shook his head.

"What do you mean by shaking your head? Do you think the price is too low?"

Morgan's voice trembled with anxiety: "Shen, name your price, I promise I won't haggle!"

"I don't sell finished products."

Shen Wang slowly began, "I sell my technology."

"technology?"

The representatives of the four countries were all taken aback, as if they hadn't heard him clearly.

"That's right!"

Looking at the astonished faces of the crowd, Shen Wang spoke clearly, word by word: "Complete industrial-scale production technology for penicillin, including all processes, strains, and equipment drawings, is offered for sale as a package."

boom--!

Another heavy blow struck everyone's head.

Mass production?

He's referring to industrialized mass production?

It's not about meticulously producing a few milligrams at a time in a lab; it's about mass production.

Everyone's minds were buzzing. They had considered that Shen Wang might stockpile a batch of penicillin and sell it at an exorbitant price, but they never imagined that he would actually sell the mass production technology!

Everyone knows that mastering mass production technology is equivalent to mastering a gold mine that can never be exhausted, and it is also the lifeline on the battlefield.

White was the first to recover, his voice trembling slightly: "Mr. Shen, what about mass production... what is the annual output?"

Shen Wang held up one finger, his tone nonchalant:

"Not much, only about ten tons a year."

Ten... tons?!

The entire room fell silent.

Everyone was stunned, frozen in place as if struck by lightning, their breath caught in their throats.

吨？

Did they hear me right?

In this era, penicillin was not produced in factories, but carefully scraped from petri dishes in laboratories, much like alchemy.

It took dozens of top scientists and thousands of technicians around the world more than a decade to transform penicillin from an "accidentally discovered fungal secretion" into a "rare drug that can barely be used clinically."

The total global production is measured in grams.

In the laboratory, researchers use "units" when discussing yields: 100,000 units, 1 million units, 10 million units.

No one even dares to use the unit "milligram" because it sounds too extravagant.

This Eastern businessman, with just one finger and a casual "not much," directly crossed the three scales of grams, kilograms, and hundreds of kilograms, pinning the annual production of penicillin to a number that no one could believe.

Ten tons!

One ton is one thousand kilograms, ten tons is ten thousand kilograms, which, when converted to units, is sixteen and a half trillion units!

My God!

Some people quickly did some mental calculations, and halfway through, gasps of astonishment rose and fell.

At a market price a thousand times that of the equivalent weight of gold, ten tons of penicillin... would be worth ten thousand tons of gold???

hiss--!

Morgan's cigar fell to the ground, burning his shoes without him noticing.

Sir George's cane was askew to one side, his usual gentlemanly demeanor completely gone.

Speer's scars were taut, and his eyes were filled with an incredulous fervor.

They finally understood.

The military rations, canned goods, stockings, and lighters mentioned earlier were all insignificant appetizers.

This guy surnamed Shen never cared about that little bit of money from the beginning.

His real trump card was always saved for last. No wonder he didn't care about lowering the price, no wonder he was willing to sell at a loss.

So, they didn't even care about that tiny bit of profit.

What truly robbed them of their entire fortune was this priceless penicillin technology, which could change the entire course of the war!

"Shen, I think we need to have a serious talk!"