Kengo Satou's body shook violently. His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his throat. He reached for the reactor valve, but his hand trembled so badly he couldn't even manage such a simple movent.
"S-Sensei…" The bespectacled researcher beside him was shaking just as hard. "The… the test results… they're out…"
With trembling hands, he passed over a tablet. On the screen was a complex spectral analysis chart. Satou's gaze locked onto the very top line, the final conclusion.
Target compound: ~XXXXX
Purity: 90.18%
He froze completely. Stared at those simple words on the screen, unmoving. Successful synthesis. Successful synthesis. He read it again and again, waves crashing through his mind.
After a long while, he slowly looked toward the young man nearby. Seiji Fujiwara still wore that sa calm, unruffled expression, as if this miracle in the world of generics was nothing more than a trivial matter to him.
In that instant, sothing inside Satou collapsed. Science? Logic? A full year of failures had turned into a joke in front of this boy. He wasn't human. He definitely wasn't human. How could anyone see the solution to a problem at a glance, one that had consud an entire year of his life? It defied reason.
Thump!
In the dead silence, the forr star pharmacist's knees gave out, and he dropped to the floor, kneeling toward Seiji. Then ca a wail he couldn't hold back, raw and broken like the cry of a wounded beast.
"Ugh… ugh… waaahhh—!"
He sobbed like a child, pouring out every grievance and ounce of pain from the past year. His team watched their professor kneeling on the floor, crying uncontrollably, and their own eyes reddened as they broke down with him. They had succeeded. And the one who had given them everything was the young man before them, who had appeared like a god.
Only then did Seiji open his eyes. He looked down at Satou kneeling at his feet, crying so hard he'd lost all dignity. His expression remained utterly calm.
"One billion yen," he said lightly. "For follow-up developnt funding for the generic drug. It'll be transferred to your account within an hour. From today on, you and your team work for . Any objections?"
"No objections! None at all!" Satou jerked his head up, face streaked with tears and snot, eyes blazing with fanatic devotion. "Forget one billion! Even if you don't give a single yen, I, Kengo Satou, would still work for you!"
Behind him, the young researchers seed infected by his fervor, all bowing ninety degrees toward Seiji. Seiji nodded in satisfaction. Good. The system's first reward had been secured.
…
…
One week later. Genesis dical Group headquarters.
The press conference hall was lit up like day. Cara shutters clicked nonstop. Hundreds of reporters from Japan's major dia outlets and financial magazines packed the venue to the brim, every face holding excitent mixed with confusion. Genesis dical Group, the giant that had shaken the dical field repeatedly over the past six months, had suddenly called an ergency press conference. And the the was: A New Era of Antihypertensive Drugs.
Antihypertensives? If mory served, Genesis dical wasn't exactly strong in pharmaceutical R&D. Even after absorbing Mitsui Pharmaceuticals, all they gained were ordinary production lines for antibiotics, antivirals, supplents, and the like. No high-end research or manufacturing capability. Was Seiji Fujiwara planning to wade into the hardest part of the pharmaceutical industry as well? That was absurdly arrogant.
As the reporters buzzed with speculation, the lights on the stage ca on. A middle-aged man in a suit, his entire deanor transford, walked up to the podium. It was Kengo Satou. His ssy hair was gone, his beard clean-shaven, his face glowing with the fervor of rebirth.
"Good afternoon, mbers of the dia." His voice carried clearly through the hall via the microphone. "Today, on behalf of Genesis dical Group, I'm here to announce so good news."
He paused, scanning the curious faces below. Then, in a flat tone, he dropped a bombshell.
"Yesterday, Genesis Pharmaceuticals successfully completed a perfect generic replication of the cardiovascular flagship drug, Provasc."
"Our generic version has been provisionally nad Genesis-1."
"Based on clinical comparisons, Genesis-1 matches the original drug with over ninety percent similarity across all key indicators, including active ingredients, absorption rate, and bioavailability."
"But its price will be only—" He raised one finger. "One-tenth."
Boom! The venue erupted. Provasc! That was a blockbuster antihypertensive with annual global sales exceeding one billion dollars, long notoriously difficult to replicate effectively. Previous generics barely reached half the original's efficacy and often ca with severe side effects. For patients and hospitals alike, they were hardly worth choosing. And now Genesis was claiming they had done it? At one-tenth the price?!
"Dr. Satou! Is this true? Do you have clinical data to back it up?!"
"Dr. Satou! You were fired from Takeda Pharmaceuticals a year ago. Did you steal your forr employer's trade secrets?!"
"Is Genesis Group preparing for an all-out war with Takeda?!"
The reporters went mad, hurling sharp questions at the stage.
Satou simply pressed a button. The large screen behind him lit up. One by one, Phase III double-blind clinical comparison reports from three independent Japanese testing agencies appeared on the screen. Data doesn't lie. Faced with that mountain of irrefutable evidence, the entire hall fell deathly silent. Every reporter was stunned. They knew the antihypertensive drug market was about to be rocked to its core.
…
That sa afternoon, on the Tokyo Stock Exchange, Genesis Group's stock exploded upward the mont the market reopened after a brief halt, slamming into the daily limit as if strapped to a rocket. Buy orders flooded in like a tide, yet not a single share could be snapped up. anwhile, pharmaceutical giant Takeda's stock suffered a landslide, locking into limit-down the instant trading began. Sell orders piled up endlessly, panic spreading everywhere.
In an instant, Japan's entire capital market was shaken. All eyes turned toward the young helmsman who never once appeared at the press conference. Seiji Fujiwara. That na once again dominated every headline in the most overpowering way imaginable. "A monster." "In a single year, he's gone further than several generations combined." "After conquering dical services, is he going to dominate pharmaceuticals too?" Shock and fear spread quietly through Japan's upper circles.
…
Genesis Group's entry into pharmaceuticals, and its opening move crippling Takeda, hit Japan's elite society and financial circles like a magnitude-twelve earthquake. Many were stunned. Many were terrified. And many smiled greedily in the shadows.
Genesis Group was too aggressive, and that young man, Seiji Fujiwara, had it far too easy. Entertainnt. dical services. Now pharmaceuticals. He was like a rampaging rhinoceros, charging into other people's backyards, stealing the sweetest fruit and trampling everything else flat. This crossed a line. Japan prized "rules" and "order." Between conglorates, between families, there was endless covert struggle, but on the surface, a delicate balance was always maintained. Seiji's brute-force approach shattered that balance. He beca a thorn in the side of every old power.
A "revengers' alliance" aid at Genesis Group, or rather at Seiji himself, quietly ford in the shadows. At the forefront was the Mitsui conglorate, the one blindsided by Genesis's opening salvo. Alongside them were Sumitomo, Mitsubishi, and other old conglorates that had sensed the danger. They knew that facing Genesis head-on in pharmaceuticals was no longer realistic. The young man's cards were too strange, too uncanny. They needed to find his weakness, to strike him hard in a field where he hadn't fully grown yet, enough to seriously wound him.
They soon found the perfect breakthrough: Yamato Precision. A dical equipnt company on the brink of bankruptcy. In Seiji's plan, it was ant to be the physical carrier for Genesis-1 and all future generics, the final piece of the production loop. But Yamato Precision was publicly listed, its share price collapsed due to poor managent, ownership scattered among countless retail and small shareholders. Under normal circumstances, it would be extrely difficult for Seiji to acquire enough shares to take control.
But don't forget the system reward.
…
…
Mitsui headquarters. Top-floor conference room.
A massive oval table was surrounded by n in suits, every one of them capable of shaking Japan's capital markets just by stamping their foot. At the head sat Hiroshi Mitsui, president of Mitsui Bank and a core mber of the Mitsui family. He looked at the ownership structure analysis of Yamato Precision on the big screen, a venomous smile curling across his face.
"Gentlen, this is Fujiwara's next move." His voice echoed in the quiet room.
"He wants to use Yamato Precision as a shell to complete his pharmaceutical empire. Clever idea, but he's too young and doesn't understand the rules."
"A listed company isn't sothing he can play with however he wants."
"I've already contacted our friends at Sumitomo and Mitsubishi. Starting today, dozens of investnt firms under our three groups will acquire Yamato Precision's tradable shares on the secondary market, regardless of cost."
He held up two fingers. "Our goal is to control more than forty-five percent before Friday's shareholders' eting. At that point..." A cruel gleam flashed across his face. "So what if that brat made a generic? He won't be able to produce it. In the end, he'll have to license it to us. Or better yet, we'll use Yamato Precision's production lines to manufacture the generics ourselves."
A wave of suppressed, excited laughter filled the room. They could already picture the once-arrogant young man, face drained of color, utterly crushed at the shareholders' eting. This was the power of a conglorate. No matter how talented or lucky you are, kid... in the net woven by united capital, you're still just an ant.
…
Over the next few days, Japan's capital market put on a bizarre show. On one side, Genesis Group's stock surged on the massive good news of Genesis-1, hitting five consecutive limit-ups and reaching absurd valuations. Investors and institutions went wild. On the other side, a nearly forgotten junk stock called Yamato Precision suddenly ca alive. With no positive news at all, its trading volu exploded and its share price climbed inexplicably.
Ordinary people couldn't understand it, but the real players all knew. A war for control of Yamato Precision had begun. On one side stood the blazing new king, Seiji Fujiwara. On the other was a massive Conglorate Coalition led by Mitsui, representing the old order. Everyone in the know was waiting for next Friday. The shareholders' eting that would decide everything.
…
Monday. Genesis Group headquarters.
Seiji was reading the newspaper. The front page was still about him and Genesis Group: A New King Crowned! Seiji Fujiwara, the Man Who Changed Japan's Business Landscape! He smiled and tossed the paper into the trash.
"Boss." gumi Kato walked in and set a freshly brewed cup of black tea on his desk. "There's news from Jin Kurosawa."
"Mm."
"As you predicted, Mitsui, Sumitomo, and Mitsubishi have joined forces with over thirty investnt institutions. They're aggressively buying Yamato Precision shares on the secondary market. As of this morning's break, their combined holdings have reached thirty-nine percent. They've also sent representatives to privately approach other small and mid-sized shareholders, trying to buy out their stakes. At this pace, they'll surpass forty percent before Friday and beco the de facto controlling shareholders." Her report was concise, but the tension was unmistakable.
"Understood." Seiji's response was eerily calm. He lifted his teacup and took a sip. "Tell Jin Kurosawa not to worry about them. Also, help schedule an appointnt with the director of the Tokyo Central Notary Office." He looked up at gumi. "I have an important docunt that needs notarization."
"When?"
"This afternoon." He smiled, a hint of sothing unreadable in that expression.
"Yes." gumi nodded and turned to leave.
…
Wednesday. A high-end traditional restaurant in Tokyo.
"Hahahaha! Yamamoto, you really worked hard this ti!" Hiroshi Mitsui and several conglorate representatives were warmly entertaining a middle-aged man in an expensive suit and gold-rimd glasses. His na was Kenichi Yamamoto, one of Mitsui's top stock market operators. This entire campaign against Yamato Precision had been orchestrated by him alone.
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