LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 81
Episode 81: Silver Tongue Over Skill (1)
Cut to the chase. I’ve discharged all the patients from the ward, and now I’m rushing to the Imperial Palace with my grad students and Mint.
This is the main gate of the palace. Mint and I passed by the guards and entered the inner sanctum.
“So… you’re setting up a company?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier if that was the plan?”
I shook my head. It wasn’t like I intentionally kept it from Mint. I had planned to consult her from the start…
But anyway,
“Originally, there was no such plan. But the academic community turned out to be stupider than I thought. Left me with no other choice.”
“Is that so?”
“I wanted to take things slow, but the alchemy department professors were prickly bastards. So here I am at the palace, feeling annoyed enough to ask for an audience.”
“How about returning to the palace permanently?”
Where’s this coming from? I glanced sideways at Mint. She smirked.
“There’s no one here at the palace for me to teach, persuade as colleagues, or heal as patients. No plans to return anytime soon.”
“Fair enough.”
She didn’t seem too concerned. After all, Mint is still affiliated with the academy, so my presence there doesn’t bother her much.
“What’s the plan?”
“Ah. Convince the royal family to set up a company, borrow government funds, and create something akin to a public enterprise. Heard of stocks?”
“Of course.”
The first stock company was established in 1602. It’s not surprising that this world has the concept of corporations.
Hmm. In our history, the first stock company was the Dutch East India Company—infamous for all sorts of reasons. Not sure if this world’s corporate structure follows the same exploitative imperialist model…
But probably not.
In any case, most proper stock companies in this era are either state-backed public enterprises or chartered companies under royal decree.
And that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.
“You don’t have to worry, right? If the government refuses, either me or Manfred can invest. Of course, the scale will differ.”
“That’s true.”
“Be grateful for the favor.”
“Ah… thank you very much…”
Mint nodded confidently.
***
Central Conference Room of the Imperial Palace.
This room was larger than any I’d been in before. More people crowded inside compared to when I last gave a cholera presentation.
Contrary to the original plan, I wasn’t allowed to bring the grad students. They seemed secretly relieved to avoid the uncomfortable situation.
Money issues, huh?
The Emperor wasn’t present, though everyone else who mattered was. Mint and Manfred sat at the head table, along with around ten others.
The Governor of the Imperial Central Bank. Violet, invited presumably as an expert, and a few faces I couldn’t recognize.
Violet again? Incredible woman.
Despite doing seemingly nothing, Violet is universally regarded as a genius expert by her superiors. Especially by the Crown Prince.
Back when I treated Mint as the royal physician, she asked me to quietly smuggle her in by paying me off.
During my academy research presentations, Violet somehow convinced Manfred to let her hang around under the guise of professional development.
And somehow, she managed to weasel her way into discussions about penicillin research funding, sitting confidently among bureaucrats as if she discovered some groundbreaking pioneer.
I stared at her, dumbfounded. Violet noticed and winked back.
Alright, fine. You helped, so I’ll let it slide.
“Good day, everyone. Today—”
I started speaking, but the Crown Prince raised his hand. What’s he trying to say now? Reluctantly, I stopped mid-sentence.
“Your Highness.”
“Professor Asterix. Just the conclusion, please.”
Grrr… you obnoxious jerk.
“Ah… just give me money to sell medicine.”
The Crown Prince nodded approvingly.
Wait, what kind of slapdash meeting is this? Fellow citizens of the empire, your taxes are being spent like this. Most high-ranking nobles and officials find even a 20-minute presentation too long, preferring three-second summaries…
Mint chuckled nervously. I scanned the room. Surely these people aren’t all this ignorant… right? Or maybe they are?
Adelbert Apler, Governor of the Imperial Central Bank.
I assumed he’d be an old man, but surprisingly, he’s a middle-aged man with striking black hair.
“Let’s talk finances.”
“Yes.”
“Just tell me two things: what you want, and what you’re willing to offer in return.”
Technically, that’s two things, sir.
“I envision a system where penicillin can be distributed to everyone who needs it.”
“And what can you offer?”
“Well… once the chartered company is established, I’ll give the government half the shares.”
“How much investment capital do you need, and how quickly can it be recovered? Estimate the required scale.”
“Er… isn’t the goal profit, though? This is about the government funding the production and research of necessary medicines.”
“Shouldn’t businesses stay open?”
I thought about it.
“Hmm… technically, the profitability of penicillin can be adjusted through pricing. That’s how I see it.”
“So it’s ‘name your price’?”
“Exactly. The government should balance the health of the company with public welfare when setting prices.”
“Let’s get specific.”
I pondered for a moment.
“Penicillin can prevent puerperal fever, surgical infections, and gangrene from deep wounds. Around three million babies are born each year.”
“Preventive use?”
“Yes. Also effective retroactively.”
“Great. If it’s for prevention, demand can be controlled accordingly, right?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I frowned slightly.
No choice. At least it means there’s no disagreement on the drug’s effectiveness.
“Right. Potential puerperal fever cases, trauma patients, gangrene patients, surgical candidates… statistically, around ten million people annually, conservatively estimated.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“Ten million pills. About thirty thousand daily. Since one liter of culture produces up to thirty tablets, we’d need roughly a thousand liters per day.”
“Less than expected?”
“Assuming it takes four weeks to grow the blue mold, seven four-thousand-liter incubators would suffice. Or ten three-thousand-liter ones. Again, conservative estimates.”
“Let’s go with ten incubators. How much does operating them cost?”
“Still unsure. We’re budgeting roughly a million gold per unit initially. Ten units total ten million gold.”
“Selling each pill for one gold would recover initial costs in about a year, operational expenses aside?”
“True. But please consider the societal benefits beyond mere profit.”
“I refrain from commenting on topics I’m unfamiliar with. When I speak, it’s within my expertise.”
Got it.
“In short, since we’ll monopolize a product without substitutes, adjusting the price can achieve any financial statement the government desires, correct?”
I thought I’d discuss whether the drug could actually be produced and its efficacy. Guess they’re not interested in that.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“No further questions from me.”
The governor put down his paper. I sighed softly. Unexpected variables emerged, but some problems simplified.
Meanwhile, the Crown Prince scribbled something then turned to Violet.
“Professor Violet?”
“Ah, yes!”
Violet woke up abruptly.
“Professor Violet, did you personally research the underlying technology and attend relevant symposiums?”
“Absolutely.”
“Is it feasible?”
“I discussed purification several times via letters with Professor Asterix. That’s why he’s here.”
“Good to hear.”
Letters? I never got any correspondence from Violet. Was this all buildup for today?
The Crown Prince paused, then looked at me.
“Don’t put all eggs in one basket. Even if we establish a chartered company as you suggest, relying solely on one drug is risky.”
“Agreed.”
“If this fails, what else do you have in mind?”
“There’s another drug. An anti-inflammatory painkiller extracted from willow bark.”
“Oh.”
Not quite the answer he hoped for, it seemed.
“As mentioned before, why not simply open a hospital instead? Use your reputation to make money that way.”
“Medicine isn’t an auction item. Poorer people tend to get sicker, and treating them is more important. Going the other way risks moving in the wrong direction.”
“Look at him. Won’t listen to a word.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, I’ll let you do things your way, Professor Asterix. If it doesn’t work out in a few years, wrap it up and open a clinic. That’ll cover it.”