Washington, D.C., Departnt of the Army.
In the office of Major General William Hammond, Surgeon General. On his desk lay a docunt that had just been transmitted via encrypted telegram from the office of the Chairman of the Senate Military Committee.
The docunt's header bore the emblem of New York Presbyterian Hospital.
The signatory was Dr. John Dalton—a na that represented absolute authority in the entire Arican dical community.
This was a clinical application observation report.
Major General Hammond had read it three tis, but each ti he finished, an irrepressible shock would appear on his composed face, accustod to life and death.
At the beginning of the report, Dr. Dalton wrote with his usual rigorous style:
"At the request of Mr. Felix Argyle and the concern of the Senate Military Committee, I have led a small-scale, non-public clinical application observation of the 'Iodoglycerol' disinfectant developed by Umbrella Corporation over the past month. The location was the Seventh Field Hospital, behind the front lines in Virginia. The subjects of observation were thirty soldiers deed 'beyond saving' due to severe injuries and serious infection symptoms..."
Hammond's gaze skipped to the core data section of the report.
"...Among the thirty observed subjects, fifteen in the control group continued with traditional debrident and carbolic acid therapy, and thirteen ultimately died from sepsis. For the other fifteen in the experintal group, after using 'Iodoglycerol' for wound debrident and subsequent treatnt, fourteen successfully survived, and wound healing was good. The only death in this group was due to a shrapnel directly penetrating the lung."
"Conclusion: This drug has shown revolutionary, unprecedented effects in inhibiting post-operative infections. I, on my personal honor and professional integrity as a surgeon, urgently recomnd to the Departnt of the Army and the President of the United States: imdiately conduct a top-priority evaluation and procurent of this drug. Every day's delay ans we are paying the price for bureaucratic inefficiency with the lives of our soldiers."
Major General Hammond put down the report. He knew the weight of Dr. Dalton's letter. This was no longer a comrcial recomndation, but a call to war, written by Arica's top surgeon, backed by science and facts.
He went directly to Senator Clark's office... The next morning, New York.
Catherine had just finished her first morning eting at the Umbrella factory. As the new president, she was diligently imrsing herself in this new world full of chemical formulas and production processes.
"Madam President." Her forr assistant, Peter Jenkins, now promoted to factory supervisor, knocked and entered. "An urgent telegram from Washington, from Senator Clark's office."
Catherine opened the telegram.
The content of the telegram instantly filled her heart, which had been troubled by factory capacity and raw material procurent, with imnse joy and pressure.
"Dalton's report has exploded within the Departnt of the Army, reactions exceeding expectations. Major General Hammond fully supports it. I will imdiately push an ergency bill in Congress to grant Umbrella exclusive warti production patents and a long-term supply agreent. Your mission is to imdiately turn the miracle of the trial into industrial reality. I need a detailed capacity expansion plan and tiline on my desk as soon as possible. Congratulations. — Thomas."
Thomas.
Catherine knew that when Senator Clark signed with this familiar address, it ant that Felix and the Argyle Company he represented had truly beco part of this political giant's inner circle.
She imdiately picked up the telegram, got into a carriage, and rushed back to the Fifth Avenue mansion as quickly as possible.
In Felix's study, he listened to Catherine's report, a knowing smile on his face.
"An invisible scalpel, Catherine," Felix said. "Dr. Dalton used his prestige to precisely cut open the Departnt of the Army's rigid bureaucracy for us. The operation was very successful, the patient is on the operating table, and now it's ti for us, the lead surgeons, to step in."
"Felix, are we really going for a full expansion?" Catherine's tone carried a hint of worry. "We haven't even completed our first formal mass production."
"Precisely why we must expand imdiately," Felix's answer was unequivocal. "Catherine, you are now the president of Umbrella. You must understand that what we are doing now is not ordinary business. We are producing necessities for a nation to win a war. Speed is life."
He walked up to her and took her hand.
"Congratulations, Madam President. Your first mission has arrived. Go tell Dr. Thorne to put down all non-essential research. I need him and his team to produce a standardized production process that can be replicated and scaled up within three days."
"Go tell Engineer Smith to have his team imdiately start designing and building ten, no, twenty new stills and mixers. Money is not an issue; I want to see Umbrella's capacity reach five thousand bottles a day within a month."
"Also, the three hundred thousand military pre-paynt Umbrella Corporation has deposited at Argyle Bank needs to be withdrawn imdiately for expansion."
Felix's orders ca one after another.
"I understand." She nodded emphatically. "I'll get to it right away."
"No." Felix held her back. "Not now."
"What?"
"Your task this afternoon is to accompany sowhere."
"Where?"
"Wall Street." A playful curve appeared at the corner of Felix's mouth. "Our banker, Mr. Templeton, has just secured a very interesting piece of business for Argyle Bank."
"He acquired an eight percent stake in New York City Gas Company. Now, there is a seat on that company's board of directors that belongs to us."
"And I intend to personally attend its first board eting." Felix looked at her. "You will attend the eting as my representative."
"Felix, you..."
"Listen to , my dear, an industrialist who only knows how to bury herself in production at the factory cannot build an empire." Felix looked at her very seriously and said, "I need you to learn with how to use another weapon."
"Capital."
----
The headquarters of New York City Gas Company was located in an unassuming gray granite building on Wall Street.
There was no grandeur of a bank, nor the hustle and bustle of an exchange, but the underground pipelines extending from here, like the city's veins, delivered light to all of Manhattan's nights.
At three in the afternoon, Felix's four-wheeled carriage, pulled by four black horses, stopped punctually in front of the building.
The carriage itself was a silent calling card, announcing its owner's wealth and status.
Felix stepped down from the carriage; he was wearing a dark gray wool suit, well-tailored and without any superfluous decoration. Catherine followed behind him, having changed into a professional skirt suit of the sa color, holding a leather folder containing company docunts.
"Felix, I still feel a bit… nervous," Catherine said softly before they stepped onto the stairs. "I know nothing about gas."
"You don't need to understand gas, Catherine," Felix's voice was calm. "You just need to rember that we're not here today to learn engineering. We're here to learn how to observe, to observe how power flows at the poker table."
In the company's boardroom, the long mahogany table was already filled with people.
Most were elderly n, with white hair and arrogant expressions. They were representatives of New York's oldest families; their wealth was built upon the city's most fundantal public utilities.
When Felix and Catherine walked in, guided by Bank President Templeton, all eyes turned to them. These gazes were mixed with curiosity, scrutiny, and a hint of imperceptible hostility.
"Good afternoon, gentlen," Bank President Templeton introduced them. "This is our Argyle Bank Chairman, and also the new shareholder of City Gas Company, Mr. Felix Argyle."
"Mr. Argyle," the company's Chairman, an elder from the Astor family, said with a forced smile, "Welco to our little club. To be honest, we're all quite surprised that an industrialist like yourself, focused on canned goods and pharmaceuticals, would be interested in our iron pipes buried underground."
"Mr. Astor, I am interested in all endeavors that bring light and progress to New York," Felix replied with a smile, taking his seat in the spot Templeton had reserved for him.
The eting then began, with topics as dry and tedious as Felix had expected: the budget for replacing an aging pipeline, the wrangling with the city governnt over street excavation permits, and the purchasing price of coal for the next quarter.
The directors argued endlessly over these issues, each wanting to secure more benefits for the family he represented. Felix remained silent, simply listening and observing.
Catherine, at his instruction, quickly took notes in her notebook. She wasn't recording financial figures, but rather each person's speaking habits, their vested interests, and the subtle eye contact and power dynamics between them.
Felix's silence made the old n present feel sowhat uneasy. This young lion, who had just entered their territory, seed more patient than they had imagined.
Finally, as the eting was about to conclude, Chairman Astor turned his gaze to Felix.
"Mr. Argyle, as our new partner, do you have any good suggestions for the company's future developnt?" This was a polite question, but also carried a hint of probing.
"Please excuse my ignorance, but I actually don't understand gas," Felix finally spoke, his voice not loud, but it instantly drew everyone's attention. "However, while listening to your discussions just now, I noticed a small issue that might affect all of our profits."
"Oh?"
"It's about coal," Felix said. "I heard that all of the company's coal currently cos from the sa supplier in Pennsylvania. Furthermore, the purchasing price seems to be five percent higher than the market price."
The atmosphere in the boardroom instantly beca sowhat delicate.
Chairman Astor coughed. "Mr. Argyle, this is a long-term cooperation agreent between us and an old friend; it guarantees the stability of our supply."
"Stability should not be bought at a higher cost," Felix's reply was direct. "Especially during warti, every penny should be spent wisely."
He glanced at Catherine. Catherine imdiately understood; she stood up and handed a docunt to each director present.
"Gentlen," Felix continued, "my other company, Mississippi and Eastern Railroad, recently opened a dedicated coal transportation line from Ohio to New York. The quality of Ohio coal is no worse than Pennsylvania's, but because of lower transportation costs, its landed price will be at least fifteen percent lower than our current purchasing price."
"My proposal is simple," Felix looked at Chairman Astor. "I suggest that the company establish a new purchasing committee to introduce a competitive chanism, allowing us to buy better coal at a lower price. I believe this is in the best interest of everyone present."
This proposal was like a stone thrown into stagnant water.
The directors exchanged glances.
They, of course, knew about the illicit benefits exchanged between Astor and that Pennsylvania coal supplier. But this was an unspoken secret within their circle.
Now, this young man, in his first board eting, had rcilessly torn open this secret.
Chairman Astor's face turned sowhat grim.
"Mr. Argyle, your suggestion is good. However, changing suppliers is a major decision, and we… need ti to study it."
"Of course," Felix nodded. "I am very patient."
He stood up; the eting was over.
"Mr. Templeton, Catherine, let's go."
When they walked out of the building and got back into the carriage, Catherine finally let out a long sigh of relief.
"Felix, you just… declared war on all of them."
"No, Catherine," Felix shook his head. "I was rely exercising my power as a shareholder, and also teaching those old n a brand new set of rules."
"In my world, efficiency and profit are above so-called favors and connections, unless they beco my companions."
The carriage slowly drove through Wall Street, heading towards Fifth Avenue.
"How does it feel?" Felix asked.
"Very… exciting," Catherine replied. "I think I'm starting to understand what you an by capital. It's not just numbers on a ledger; it's a kind of… power to change the rules."
"You learn quickly," Felix smiled. "Well then, Miss President. Now, let's return to our own battlefield."
He handed her a docunt. "This is the latest telegram just sent by Senator Clark."
Catherine opened the telegram; it read:
"Reporting ti set: next Wednesday at ten AM, Capitol Hill. The Departnt of the Army Secretary, Surgeon General, and President's dical advisor will personally attend. — Thomas."
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