American Medicine God: Starting by Inheriting a Pharmaceutical Company and Selling Medicine

A few months later. Washington, D.C. K Street.

Victor Corleone pushed open the heavy door of the "Barton & Boggs Lobbying Firm".

Today he wore a light gray Italian-style bespoke suit with a small American flag badge on the lapel. This made him look less like a businessman and more like a promising young senator candidate.

Saul Goodman followed behind him, carrying an inconspicuous briefcase.

"Boss, every square inch of carpet here is more expensive than gold," Saul said in a low voice. "That old man who pressed the floor button for us in the elevator just now? He looked like the former House Majority Whip."

"In this room, past titles are worthless," Victor said calmly. "Only future promises are valuable."

An elderly man with gray hair and eagle-like eyes approached. He was Tom Patton, a partner in the company and a true "power broker" in Washington.

"Mr. Corleone, it's an honor to meet you." Patton's handshake was firm but brief. "I heard you had the FBI completely outmaneuvered in New Jersey? Brilliant defense."

"That's just children's play, Mr. Barton." Victor smiled and sat down. "I'm here today to talk about adult business."

"Speaking."

"I want to buy a law."

Barton raised an eyebrow, his hand hovering in mid-air as he held his coffee cup. "In this city," he said, "we usually say 'pull legislation.' What do you want to buy? Tax cuts? Or environmental exemptions?"

"No. I want to send money to the FDA."

Victor took a document from Saul and pushed it in front of Patton.

"Prescription Drug User Fee Act (PDUFA). That's the name I drafted."

Patton put on his reading glasses and quickly flipped through the pages. The more he read, the more his brows furrowed, but the smile in his eyes grew wider.

"Let me confirm if I understand correctly?" Barton took off his glasses. "You proposed that pharmaceutical companies pay the FDA a hefty 'New Drug Application Fee.' Ostensibly, this money is used to hire more reviewers and upgrade equipment, thereby speeding up the approval process. In reality..."

"In effect, this would turn the FDA into our client."

"The FDA is too slow and too poor right now. They're like a bunch of minimum wage goalkeepers who keep every ball out of the net because they're afraid of taking responsibility. If we paid half their salaries, do you think they'd be working so hard to keep the ball out?"

"That's a brilliant idea," Barton exclaimed, "but it's difficult. The old fogies in Congress will say it's a blatant conflict of interest. 'Big pharmaceutical companies buying off regulators'—that headline will look terrible in the Washington Post."

"That's why we need you, Mr. Barton." Victor pointed to the Capitol dome outside the K Street window. "I know the chairman of the Health Committee, a senator from Kentucky, is currently struggling with his re-election campaign funds. And he's very concerned about healthcare development in his hometown."

Patton smiled.

"Ah, Senator Mitchell. Yes, he's a noble man. He cares deeply about his homeland."

...

One week later. Louisville, Kentucky.

A charity dinner is being held at Senator Mitchell's private estate.

Victor stood beneath the enormous crystal chandelier, a glass of champagne in hand. Here gathered Kentucky's leading figures: coal miners, horse ranchers, and power-hungry nouveau riche.

"Mr. Corleone!"

Senator Mitchell walked over, beaming. He was a typical Southern politician, pot-bellied and full of talk about God and patriotism.

"Thank you for your generosity." Mitchell grasped Victor's hand and shook it vigorously. "The twenty million dollars donated by the Waters Public Health Foundation will build a brand new building for Louisville Children's Hospital. You are an angel sent by God."

"This is just the beginning, Senator," Victor smiled modestly. "We also plan to establish a 'Future Leaders Scholarship.' In fact, I've seen your daughter's resume. She's a top student at Yale Law School, exceptionally talented. Our foundation's General Counsel position is currently vacant, with an annual salary of $500,000 plus full benefits. I wonder if she would be willing to accept this position?"

Mitchell's eyes lit up. A five-hundred-thousand-dollar annual salary?

"Oh, how could I? She just graduated..."

"Only young people can understand the public health challenges of the new era," Victor said meaningfully, "just as we need new laws to adapt to the new era."

Understanding the unspoken meaning, Mitchell's expression turned serious.

"Speaking of law, I heard you've had some ideas in Washington lately? About the FDA?"

"Yes. The PDUFA Act." Victor's smile faded. "Senator, do you know that every year tens of thousands of Americans die because they can't wait for new drugs to be available? Not because the drugs haven't been developed, but because those bureaucrats at the FDA are counting beans. If we can speed up the approval process, it won't just save lives, it will enhance America's global competitiveness."

“That sounds reasonable,” Mitchell nodded, “but some people are worried that it will affect the FDA’s independence.”

"Independence?" Victor sneered. "An institution that can't even afford printing paper, what independence are you talking about? Senator, this isn't bribery, this is 'user-pays.' It's like paying tolls on the highway. Pharmaceutical companies pay, the FDA does the work, taxpayers save money, and patients are saved. It's a win-win-win situation. Who would object? Unless they want to see Americans waiting in pain."

Mitchell remained silent for a moment, seemingly weighing the pros and cons.

A 20 million yuan hospital donation, a daughter's high-paying job, and a high-sounding reason (saving lives).

"You're right, Mr. Corleone." Mitchell raised his glass and lightly clinked it against Victor's. "For the health of the American people, I will put this bill on the agenda for next month's hearings."

"For your health," Victor said with a smile, finishing his drink.

...

For the next few months, the machines on K Street ran at full speed.

It's a perfectly legitimate and open conspiracy!

Barton and Boggs' lobbying team swept through Capitol Hill. Armed with elaborate PowerPoint presentations and even more impressive checks, they knocked on the doors of congressional offices one after another.

At the same time, the "Patient Support Group" organized by Saul also began to take action.

Thousands of terminally ill patients gathered outside the Capitol Building. They held signs that read: "We want to live!", "FDA = Bureau of Delayed Death!", and "Approving new drugs is urgent!"

On television, a little girl in a wheelchair tearfully accused the FDA of delaying treatment and robbing her of her last chance for treatment.

This scene was played on a loop in the evening news.

Public opinion has shifted. Opponents of the PDUFA bill are no longer seen as "heroes defending regulatory independence," but as "cold-blooded accomplices of bureaucracy."

...

Two months later. The Capitol Building.

The moment the gavel struck, thunderous applause erupted throughout the hall.

The Prescription Drug User Fee Act was passed by an overwhelming majority.

Victor sat in the last row of the audience, watching all of this quietly.

David Rossi sat beside him, his hands trembling slightly.

"This is insane," Rossi muttered to herself. "You know what this means, Victor? From now on, half of the FDA's annual budget will come directly from us. The auditors' salaries, bonuses, even the coffee machines in their offices—we'll buy them."

"That means they're no longer the referees, Rossi." Victor looked at the congressmen who were hugging and celebrating. "They're our waiters. As long as we can afford the expedited fee, even if it's poison, they'll stamp 'approval' within six months."

Victor turned his head and looked at Rossi.

"Get your speech ready, Rossi. It's your turn."

"A speech?"

"Back to the FDA."

"With this new funding, the FDA needs to expand its workforce and establish new departments to liaise with pharmaceutical companies. I will work to get you back as the deputy director of the Center for Drug Evaluation and Research. You are the most suitable candidate because you understand us."

This is the "revolving door." Yesterday you were the regulator, today you are an advisor to the regulated, and tomorrow you become a regulator with even more power.

Rossi looked into Victor's eyes and felt a chill, but his thirst for power and burning ambition made the chill pass quickly.

"OK."

...

That evening, at a top steakhouse near Capitol Hill.

Victor, Senators Mitchell and Barton, along with more than a dozen key members of Congress, raised their glasses in a toast.

"To the great democracy!" Mitchell said, his face flushed and reeking of alcohol.

"Homage to the great free market!" Patton chimed in.

Victor sat in the head seat, swirling his wine glass. Through the dark red liquid, he looked at those who held the highest power in the country.

They looked so tall and imposing, but in Victor's eyes, they were nothing more than commodities waiting to be sold.

In the United States, you can buy anything, as long as the price is right.

"Respect business!"

"Victor said softly, then downed his glass of red wine in one gulp," Victor said.

With the passage of the PDUFA Act, Pandora's box has been completely opened. An era of rampant, capital-driven abuse of enhancement agents has arrived!