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

"Sales are suspended, not destroyed!"

Victor stood up and walked to the huge world map hanging on the side wall of the conference room. It was a map depicting the global business footprint of Water Pharmaceuticals.

His fingers traced the Pacific Ocean, crossed the Atlantic Ocean, and finally stopped in those unflagged areas—Southeast Asia, Latin America, and parts of the Middle East.

“These places,” Victor pointed to the map, “South Korea, Japan, Argentina, Brazil… their regulatory agencies are still using standards we had ten years ago. Their FDA is just a figurehead, or doesn’t even exist. Most importantly, they don’t have HIV testing, and the concept of ‘AIDS’ isn’t even widely known.”

"Boss, you mean..." The sales vice president's eyes lit up.

"Initiate the 'Offshore Clearing Plan'."

"First, contact our logistics transit center in Panama."

"Ship this shipment out of the US cold storage, but don't write 'pharmaceuticals' on the customs declaration; write 'raw materials for biological products.' Repackage it in Panama and erase all traces of the US production date."

"Second, have the printing factory work overnight to finish the job."

He looked at the marketing director with piercing eyes.

"Replace all the English instruction manuals. Put on a gold label that says 'Made in the USA.' Shrink those complicated contraindications and risk warnings until they're invisible even with a magnifying glass. Print in a prominent place—'From the most advanced coagulation technology in the West.'"

Third, price.

"Give it a 30% discount. Tell the health officials and hospital directors there that this is Water Pharmaceuticals' 'humanitarian aid' to developing countries. We are doing this to help their children stop suffering from bleeding."

"But..." the young legal advisor spoke again, his voice trembling, "If it's banned here in the US, and we still sell it abroad, isn't that illegal?"

“Absolutely not illegal,” Saul immediately chimed in. “According to the export provisions of the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act (FD&C Act), as long as the drug complies with the laws and regulations of the importing country and does not directly conflict with U.S. law, the FDA has no right to interfere. This is a basic rule of international trade. We should be grateful for free trade.”

Victor turned around and looked at the young man. He slowly walked over until he stood in front of the young man, looking down at him.

"Furthermore, young man, you need to think from a different perspective. Don't let such a narrow moral view bind you."

Victor began his sermon:

"In those underdeveloped countries, children with hemophilia can only survive by receiving infusions of ineffective cryoprecipitates. These drugs are full of impurities, have poor efficacy, and cause severe allergic reactions. Many people cannot even afford cryoprecipitates and can only die painfully from internal bleeding on a pile of straw. Or they may survive by sheer luck, but they will suffer from joint deformities, lifelong disabilities, and a life worse than death."

"Our medicine, although it has a slight...flaw."

"But it can stop the bleeding immediately. It can make them stand up and walk, make them run and play football like normal people. It can keep them alive."

"Even if it only allows me to live a few more years, even if there are side effects in the end, it's still better than dying now, right?"

"We gave them the length of life, we gave them dignity. This is kindness, not evil."

The atmosphere in the meeting room subtly shifted, instantly becoming cheerful!

The executives began to nod, their faces showing relief.

"That's absolutely right! How come I didn't think of that before!"

The discomfort I felt from the "death calculations" has vanished. In its place is a strange sense of lofty mission.

Yes, we are saving lives. We are bringing advanced American technology to the wilderness. We are doing good deeds. Incidentally, we turned a $200 million loss into a profit, preserved the stock price, and also saved everyone's mansions and yachts.

"But the virus..." The young man still wanted to struggle a bit more.

"There's no evidence that there's definitely a virus in there," Victor interrupted him. "It's just a probability. And in the business world, we're betting on probabilities."

He turned around, faced everyone, and gave his final order.

"Let's get started. Notify the logistics department that I need the container ship to leave port within three days. Contact our agents in Tokyo and Buenos Aires and have them prepare cash and rebates. We're going to have an unprecedented 'mega-promotion'."

"Yes, boss."

The executives quickly packed up their documents and left. They walked briskly, chatting and laughing, and began discussing where to have dinner that evening. The vice president of sales even started making calls to book first-class tickets to Tokyo.

Only the young legal advisor walked last. He stared at the memo in his hand, the formula for death on it seeming to burn. He hesitated for a moment, then finally stuffed it into his briefcase. After all, he still had student loans to pay off, and he had just made a down payment on his Manhattan apartment.

The meeting room was empty.

Victor hadn't left yet; he stood before the world map, gazing at the lands that were about to be covered by "mercy."

The setting sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting his long shadow across the map, covering the entire Asian continent. His figure was tall and solitary, like a statue overlooking all living beings—a statue built of bones.

----

This story is based on events involving Baxter International, Bayer, and other blood product companies. Those interested can search for more information (Bayer is still doing very well). The incident occurred in Italy; you can watch the BBC documentary "Dirty Blood: The Truth About Blood." Here, the setting is the United States. The United States is a core global supplier of blood products such as clotting factors. It was then, and it still is!

Regarding the points raised by readers: 1. Why would Victor, with memories beyond his time, risk making money in the unsafe way described in the story? Let me explain: he has additional memories, not a previous soul rebirth; there's a difference. If you have memories but haven't actually experienced them, you'll inevitably try them. Furthermore, his character represents capitalism on earth; a capitalist with a 300% profit margin would sell the noose around their own neck, something he wouldn't refuse. (Of course, it could also be simply my poor writing skills, haha); 2. There are no scenes in urban novels showing the rewards of spending money. This is partly due to the limitations of this genre (the focus isn't on enjoying life after achieving great success like other business novels), and partly because I hadn't considered it. I'll consider adding this later, but I need to gather some information first, specifically researching how the "new rich" and "old money" in America during that era squandered their wealth. If any readers know, please leave a comment, and I'll look for materials.