I accidentally joined a group of charlatans, so I immediately called the police and handed it over t

"Transformed into nutrients?"

Professor Hans repeated those words blankly.

His mind went blank; this theory was completely beyond the scope of modern medical understanding.

This is like someone telling him that if he eats highly poisonous arsenic, he will not only not die, but will instead become a nourishing ginseng.

This is utterly absurd!

But looking at Lin Zhenghua's radiant face, he had no choice but to believe him.

This is a biotechnology from a higher dimension, a disruptive force against Earth's existing medical system.

The spokesperson did not go on to explain those profound principles.

He knew that for ordinary people, cold, hard theories were far less impactful than compelling stories.

"The principle behind it is quite complicated to explain."

The spokesperson smiled and handed the microphone to a middle-aged man standing behind Lin Zhenghua.

The man was wearing a military uniform, with the left sleeve hanging loosely, swaying gently with his movements.

That's Wang Gang.

A combat hero who lost his left arm in a mine-clearing operation on the southern border of Xinjiang while protecting his comrades, and later developed lymphoma due to wound infection.

He took the microphone.

His only remaining right hand was rough, covered with calluses and scars.

He faced the camera, the thousands of reporters in the audience, and billions of eyes around the world.

He showed no stage fright whatsoever.

All they possess is the unwavering determination and composure unique to soldiers.

"My name is Wang Gang."

His voice was calm, with a slightly hoarse, smoky tone.

"Former platoon leader of a border defense regiment."

"Three months ago, the doctor gave me a critical condition notice and told me to go home and eat something good."

The previously noisy clicking of camera shutters from the audience gradually subsided.

Everyone unconsciously held their breath, afraid of disturbing the man's story.

"Actually, I'm not afraid of dying."

Wang Gang smiled, a smile that carried a hint of detachment from life and death.

"From the day I joined the army, my life was no longer my own."

"But I don't want to die such a pathetic death."

His eyes suddenly sharpened, like a drawn blade.

"I don't want to lie in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, and slowly rotting away."

"I haven't seen the minefields along the border completely cleared yet."

"I haven't seen our country's boundary markers yet, and they're not standing any more firmly."

His voice choked up as he said this.

Her eyes were slightly red.

"It's the country that didn't abandon me, this useless person."

"Life No. 1 pulled me back from the brink of death."

He took a deep breath and straightened his spine abruptly.

"Snapped!"

A military salute so perfect it was impeccable.

At that moment, his empty left sleeve seemed to be filled with power.

"Now, I feel like I have inexhaustible energy."

"If the army still needs me, I, Wang Gang, am ready to return at any time!"

"If war breaks out, I will return when summoned!"

This roar, transmitted through the electric current, pierced the screen and struck straight to the soul.

There was no sentimental background music.

There are no flowery words to embellish it.

There was only one old soldier who uttered this cry with his life.

The BBC reporter in the audience turned ashen-faced.

He opened his mouth, wanting to find some loophole to attack, just like before, but looking at Wang Gang's tearful eyes, he couldn't utter a single word.

Any doubts seem so pale and so despicable in the face of this man who defended his country with his life.

The microphone was then passed to the firefighter.

He demonstrated his lung capacity, which had once been as frail as cotton, but now allowed him to blow up a hot water bottle in one breath.

Everyone who takes the stage has a legendary story.

Every story is a heavy blow.

This is more than just a demonstration of medical miracles.

This was a collective oath about faith, about the nation, and about heroes.

Social media around the world exploded at that moment.

The comment section, which was originally filled with doubt and ridicule, suddenly reversed course.

Countless cancer patients, watching those who have been given a new lease on life on the screen, wept uncontrollably.

"My God! This is real!"

"There's hope! Mom, you're saved!"

"Why China? Why did God bestow miracles upon the East?"

"Because they respect heroes! Because they didn't abandon anyone!"

"Miracle," "Hope," "Oriental miracle drug"...

These terms instantly topped the trending search lists in various countries.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ocean.

Wall Street.

On the huge electronic display screen, everything was a ghastly green (red for US stocks falling and green for rising; here, according to domestic custom, it is described as a crash, while US stocks should be described as a red crash).

Pfizer, Merck, Roche...

These once-unrivaled pharmaceutical giants are experiencing a precipitous drop in their stock prices.

The traders screamed frantically, watching in despair as the curve on the screen plummeted.

In just half an hour, the global pharmaceutical sector lost hundreds of billions of dollars in market value.

This is not just a financial loss; it is the collapse of the Western pharmaceutical hegemony system.

Base No. 001.

Chen Xi leaned back on the sofa, holding a glass of red wine in her hand, swirling it gently.

He watched as the merit value displayed in real time on the holographic screen skyrocketed at an alarming rate.

+10000…

+20000…

+50000…

That was the gratitude of countless desperate people around the world; that was the great power of saving a life, which is better than building a seven-story pagoda.

"What a show!"

Chen Xi took a sip of wine, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

He doesn't care about the fate of those pharmaceutical giants.

What he cares about is that after this press conference, China's voice on this planet will be enhanced like never before.

The conference site.

The atmosphere had reached its peak.

The spokesperson took the microphone back.

Looking at the representatives from various countries below the stage, whose eyes were filled with fervor and who seemed eager to rush up and snatch the drug, he slowly dropped the final bombshell of the day.

"I know everyone is concerned about the production and distribution of Life No. 1."

"Although production is currently limited, as a responsible major country, we are willing to share this gift of life with the world."

The audience fell silent instantly, everyone perking up their ears.

"We will launch a life-saving program."

"We will provide a limited number of aid slots to all countries around the world that are friendly to China."

He paused here, his gaze sweeping intentionally or unintentionally over the area where the BBC reporter was.

"Furthermore, we will prioritize providing these services to international friends who truly respect life and have made contributions to human peace and development."

These words caused an uproar in the room.

The BBC reporter's face instantly went from deathly pale to ashen.

This is an admission ticket.

A ticket to the future issued by China.

Those countries and individuals who were once arrogant, prejudiced, and malicious will be shut out.

The strategies for offense and defense differ.