You were tasked with guarding the Sihang Warehouse, and you brought out a Tiger tank?

Lin Peiji held the price list that Carl had personally delivered in his hand, his hands trembling.

Zhao Yushu's eyes widened, and he even stopped breathing.

"Ten million... Imperial Marks?"

Zhao Yushu swallowed hard, his voice trembling.

"At the current exchange rate, that's equivalent to four million dollars."

Converted to our current currency, that's 13.6 million!

Lin Pei-chi added from the side, his tone full of disbelief:

"Young master, this sum of money is equivalent to the total customs revenue of the entire Qingcheng Port Customs in a whole year before the outbreak of the War of Resistance against Japan."

These Hans are really rich and powerful.

Bayer's terms were simple, yet also domineering.

Ten million Imperial Marks were offered to buy out the complete production technology, process drawings, and high-yield strain of penicillin that could be mass-produced.

Faced with this enormous sum of money, enough to drive anyone mad, Zhao Yushu's eyes darted around:

"Cousin, since the foreigners want it so much, it means this thing is absolutely priceless."

Ten million Reichsmarks is too few.

Let's go all out and ask for a hundred million!

Since they urgently need it, we'll just raise the price on the spot.

The mature and steady Lin Peiji quickly waved his hand, interrupting Zhao Yushu's wild idea.

"Young Master, business isn't conducted this way."

Even exorbitant prices have to be reasonable. One hundred million Reichsmarks—back when the War of Resistance against Japan began, the military procurement order that Jiangcheng made for Hans was only a little over one hundred million marks.

That's a huge sum of money; even the Hans Christian government would have to think twice about it, let alone Bayer.

However, we can indeed raise it a bit.

Try asking for 50 million, and leave them some room to negotiate.

"Once we get this money, our 33rd Army Corps won't have to worry about military expenses for the next two or three years."

Lin Feng sat in a large office chair, his fingers lightly tapping on the table.

He looked at the two excited people, but his expression remained unusually calm.

"Reject them."

Lin Feng uttered four words calmly.

"What?"

Zhao Yushu and Lin Peiji were both stunned, thinking they had misheard.

"Cousin, with this money, how many guns and cannons can we buy, and how many new soldiers can we recruit?"

Zhao Yushu was so anxious he almost jumped up and down.

Lin Feng stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the soldiers outside who were conducting drill training.

"Yu Shu, Pei Ji Shu."

You only see the huge sum of money in front of you, but you don't see the trap behind it.

Lin Feng turned around, his eyes gleaming:

"Selling technology is a one-off deal."

What is the size of Bayer? What is the industrial base of Germany?

Once they have mastered the entire production line and the high-yield strains.

With their powerful chemical engineering capabilities, they can build several large pharmaceutical plants in just a few months.

At that time, penicillin production will increase exponentially.

Lin Feng walked back to his desk, picked up the quotation, and threw it directly into the wastebasket.

"Once their production capacity comes up, they will quickly seize the global market."

How can our small pharmaceutical factory compete with others?

At that point, our penicillin will be completely worthless.

We've become mere laborers paving the way for Bayer.

Lin Feng placed his hands on the table, his tone resolute.

"We must keep core technologies firmly in our own hands."

This hen that lays golden eggs must never be sold.

"The only things we want to sell are golden eggs."

That noon, in the most luxurious restaurant in the Hans Hotel in Qingcheng Port.

The private room was lavishly decorated, with a long dining table laden with sumptuous Hans dishes.

The roasted pork knuckle, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, exudes an enticing aroma, accompanied by tangy and refreshing Hans sauerkraut.

The large Thuringian sausages sizzled and dripped oil as they were fried.

Several huge glass beer mugs were filled with chilled Qingchenggang beer, with thick white foam floating on the golden liquid.

Lin Feng sat in the main seat, slowly and methodically cutting the sausage on the plate.

Karl, Gustav, and Major Steheim sat opposite, but had no interest in savoring the local delicacies.

"General Lin, what's your decision regarding Bayer's offer?"

Carl couldn't hold back any longer, put down his knife and fork, and tentatively asked.

"Ten million Imperial Marks, that's definitely a very reasonable price."

Lin Feng picked up his beer mug, took a big gulp of the ice-cold beer, and let out a refreshing breath.

"Mr. Karl, Consul Gustav."

I am very grateful for Bayer's sincerity.

But I want to make my position clear here.

Lin Feng put down his wine glass and glanced at the three Han Chinese men opposite him.

"Penicillin production technology, blueprints, and strains."

Not for sale.

The atmosphere in the private room froze instantly upon hearing this.

Karl's smile froze, and Consul Gustav frowned.

Major Steheim was so anxious he almost stood up.

"General Lin, what do you mean by this?"

Consul Gustav sounded somewhat displeased.

"Do you feel the price is not right? We can discuss it further."

"This isn't about money."

Lin Feng picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"Technology is my trump card; I only sell finished products."

"Things are valued for their scarcity; Mr. Carl, as a businessman, should understand this principle better than I do."

Carl took a deep breath, suppressing his disappointment.

Since they couldn't buy the technology, they had no choice but to settle for monopolizing the supply of finished drugs.

"Alright, General Lin."

Since you insist, we respect your decision.

So, how is the price of the finished drug calculated?

Our company, Zensen Trading Company, is willing to purchase all of your pharmaceutical factory's production.

Lin Feng leaned back in his chair and held up one finger.

"A bottle of 100,000 units of penicillin."

This dose is enough to treat ten severely wounded soldiers with serious infections, or dozens of patients with minor infections.

Lin Feng paused for a moment, then quoted a price that made people gasp.

"Priced as ten small yellow croakers."

Or equivalent in silver or silver dollars.

I do not want any country's paper money, including dollars and pounds.

Only hard currency, precious metals.

"Ten small yellow croakers?!"

Carl gasped in surprise, nearly knocking over the plate in front of him.

Ten small yellow croakers, which is equivalent to ten taels of gold.

Based on current black market prices, this is an astronomical price.

A small bottle of medicine powder was exchanged for dozens of times its volume in gold.

This isn't selling medicine; this is outright robbery.

"General Lin, this price is outrageous!"

Consul Gustav could no longer remain silent and protested loudly.

"This is completely outside the scope of normal business."

We came here to negotiate in good faith; you can't make such exorbitant demands.

"Is that outrageous?"

Lin Feng sneered, leaned forward, and placed his hands crossed on the table.

"Consul Gustav, Major Störheim."

You are all from military backgrounds, so you should be able to figure this out.

Ten small yellow croakers can be exchanged for the lives of ten battle-hardened veterans.

How much resources and time does it take to train an experienced veteran?

How much of a role can these ten veterans play on the battlefield?

Do you think this deal was a bad one?

Lin Feng's words hit the nail on the head.

Major Steheim remained silent.

He knew Lin Feng was right.

In the impending European war, the value of veterans cannot be measured in money.