Chapter 82

82. Medical Skills vs. Verbal Skills (2)

The Russian Empire government had monopolized vodka trade within its borders for centuries. You might think it’s just a trivial detail, but here’s the extent of it:

The empire’s government earned a staggering one-third of its revenue from vodka sales alone—a massive cash cow. Fun fact: Lenin abolished this practice, only for Stalin to bring it roaring back, and guess what? It’s still around today.

This thought struck me while explaining something to the high-ranking bureaucrats of this empire. I made one wrong assumption.

When I brought up the idea of monopolizing penicillin production, I was thinking about modern pharmaceutical companies and their relationship with governments.

You know the drill: pharmaceutical companies negotiating drug prices with the government, balancing consumer health rights with corporate innovation incentives in a complex system of policies.

But pre-modern minds worked differently.

What if instead of a pharmaceutical company, the imperial prince and his circle of bureaucrats were envisioning something closer to Russia’s state-owned vodka enterprises—something essential that the government could monopolize as a tool of governance?

An opportunity to boost government income and exert influence. The bureaucrats of the empire seemed only mildly curious about antibiotics, treating them as not such a big deal.

Thanks to this, I didn’t even need to persuade them, which was convenient, though there was a bitter aftertaste. Sure, this could be better for me, but…

Citizens of the empire, these people threw away 2.5 million gold without even checking what kind of company it was supposed to be…

Anyway.

The prince continued speaking.

“If Professor Asterix’s plan works out, a new company can start operations and recover its investment within a year, right?”

“Yes.”

“And besides the medicine that prompted us to meet this time, are you also preparing to produce other drugs?”

I nodded. Judging by the technological capabilities, we could make aspirin in this world too. Actually, it’s way easier than penicillin.

Granted, it won’t save as many lives as penicillin, but aspirin might sell better. It has more uses.

“That’s correct.”

“Even if making medicine fails, Professor Asterix could run a hospital or publish books to control losses, right?”

Indeed, if making medicine fails this time, I might have to do that. Maybe saving money to set up a hospital later wouldn’t be bad either.

“Yes.”

“Then it’s decided.”

The prince appeared ready to wrap up the meeting, raising his head to check around before starting to speak.

“We’ll establish an imperial pharmaceutical company. Government agencies will hold 60% of the shares, private or external investors 30%, and the original technology providers 10%.”

“Ten percent would be one million gold, right?”

“Total five million, so 500,000. Raise the rest from profits. Professor Asterix will join as an executive and scientific advisor.”

No one objected.

“Hold on.”

Mint raised her hand. I thought she wasn’t paying attention since she’d been quiet all along. Everyone turned to look at the imperial princess, and Mint cleared her throat awkwardly before speaking.

“Go ahead.”

“I understand we can succeed in making the medicine, but Professor Asterix already has multiple commitments.”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t Professor Asterix too busy to focus on the imperial company?”

I thought Mint would take my side, but what is she getting at?

“I’ll try first.”

Mint shook her head, clearly not hearing what she wanted. She looked at me.

“Once the appropriate time comes, I’d like Professor Asterix to resign from teaching and focus on the imperial company or its affiliated hospital.”

“Oh, you mean…?”

“By the time I graduate next year.”

Mint’s blue eyes locked onto my face.

I thought about it…

It doesn’t seem like an unreasonable request, but… I glanced at Manfred in the middle of the conference room. He just shrugged.

“That’s a fair point. Can you do that?”

Let’s say yes for now. I’ll reconsider in a couple of years, but it feels distant.

“Yes.”

The conference room buzzed briefly. Mostly sounds of relief. Apparently, everyone was reassured that I’d eventually join the new company in a few years.

“The meeting is over. Thank you for your hard work, Professor.”

I bowed for the first time in a while.

The prince and other government officials remained seated even after the meeting ended. They must have something else to discuss without me…

And so, I left the conference room.

***

Professor Asterix had gone, and Mint and others exited the chaotic meeting room. The chancellor paused briefly before speaking.

“For this company’s stock purchase, we’re using about 2.5 million gold from national funds, right? To be used as initial investment costs?”

“That’s the conclusion.”

“Prince, forgive my impertinence, but I have something important to say about this matter.”

“What is it?”

“It’s just one person. What makes you trust him enough to hand over such a large sum of money? According to the current plan, aren’t we basically giving away 500,000 gold without any guarantee of return?”

Manfred shook his head.

“If it fails, it’ll all be worthless paper anyway. No money goes to him until the company is established and the medicine successfully sells. It’s all theoretical amounts anyway.”

“That’s true, but did we really need to give him 10% of the entire company?”

The prince didn’t see it that way.

“Teacher Violet vouched for him strongly. She said there have been six—no, seven fistfights at symposiums because of Professor Asterix alone.”

While the prince isn’t an expert, Violet, who is, had given her opinion. Professor Asterix was always right academically.

“Do symposium elders actually do that?”

“They do. If this company can sell ten million gold worth of medicine annually, what’s the problem? That’s practically tax revenue if the government runs the business. It’s an opportunity we can’t miss.”

“He’s basically just a medicine salesman, isn’t he?”

“Hmm. Keeping him close might save our lives someday. Even if his new company collapses and he racks up debts, having him nearby isn’t a bad deal. Some people might lose money, but…”

Ultimately, we need to keep him close by any means necessary. Who knows when we might owe our lives to this professor? Thanks to Asterix, many at the academy have been saved from death.

“You’re thinking three steps ahead.”

“Just common sense.”

The bank president nodded.

“By the way, Prince, what exactly is the medicine this professor claims to sell?”

“I don’t know. He’ll figure it out.”

It’s not that the explanation wasn’t provided. There were reports and papers submitted. But the content wasn’t something the empire’s bureaucrats could easily grasp.

Even among experts, there were debates over the details.

Thankfully, Imperial Healer Violet was involved early in the process and kept us updated. At least the prince thought so.

We started almost immediately.

“Teacher Violet, could you explain again what this professor is making?”

“Ah, yes.”

Violet pulled out some papers hesitantly.

“To put it simply, there are microscopic particles that cause decay. These are called bacteria. On the other hand, blue mold is like a tiny plant structure under the microscope.”

“Got it.”

“When blue mold grows roots, if bacteria eat all the nutrients in the food, the mold starves to death, right? So it releases substances that kill bacteria around it.”

“Incredible.”

“This substance can treat diseases caused by bacteria inside the human body, like gangrene or childbed fever.”

“Indeed. Worth every penny of research funding.”

Both men marveled briefly, and Violet nodded seriously.

***

Escape from the conference room.

Graduate students were lounging in a corner of the royal reception room. I had intended to ask them to do something, but now I feel guilty.

“Ah, Professor is here.”

Istina and Amy were sipping coffee. Where did they get that?

“Sorry. I didn’t expect them to act like this.”

“What happened?”

“Uh… it wasn’t the position we planned for during preparation. They didn’t ask about the content and only talked about other things.”

“Did it succeed?”

“It did.”

“Will the research budget increase now?”

I nodded. Not just the budget—there’s a whole company being created.

“That’s right. As promised, I’ll cover your tuition fees and double your assistant salaries.”

Istina and Amy froze, wide-eyed, staring at me in disbelief.

“Thank you so much!”

“H-Holy crap, thank you!”

Istina bowed deeply, and Amy repeated her gratitude over and over. Festive vibes.

Doubling the graduate student salary isn’t that much money. Of course, combined with the money they earn working in the ward, it adds up to a decent amount.

“So, should we start looking into mass-producing penicillin now? Or…?”

“First, we need the company to be established.”

How quickly can we begin producing penicillin? We’ll need time to complete the detailed processes.

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