Chapter 145 The Hypocritical Man
My collaboration with the Langford family had been dragging on for months - the efficiency was just terrible.
I put down my glass and glanced at Gerald and Beckett, who were absorbed in adjusting the plan, and Roger and Cressida taking notes seriously beside them. I quietly walked out, "Then let's meet."
A moment later, in the reception room, John and I sat facing each other.
"It's such a shame I couldn't make it to your and Cressida's competition. But congratulations anyway - you won beautifully," John said.
He looked about fifty percent similar to Mason, but compared to Mason who was lost in alcohol and women, John's eyes were clear and bright, with an upright demeanor.
Of course, merchants who are too upright can't make big money.
I smiled lightly and said, "Let's skip the pleasantries. I hope you're here today to finalize our partnership."
"Of course." John smiled and pulled out an agreement, placing it on the table and pushing it toward me. "I've never given up on partnering with you to build a pharmaceutical factory, but unfortunately there were too many people in the family opposing it. Thankfully, through my efforts, those people have all shut up."
I pretended to believe him and praised him with a smile.
John assumed a negotiating posture. "Location, manpower, machinery and equipment - I'll cover everything. I'll also handle the subsequent management and sales. You just need to invest with your technology and wait for the dividends each year."
I nodded. This was the cooperation model I had proposed before.
John observed my expression while saying, "Besides the hemostatic drug we discussed before, I'd like to add another product - a special desensitization injection."
"Sure." After a brief consideration, I agreed.
A flash of delight crossed John's eyes. "But with only two products, it still feels too thin."
My smile remained unchanged. "These two products aren't just ordinary goods - they have a stable customer base and can sell at high prices. Let's first produce these two products and test the market. You should understand that chasing quantity will ultimately affect quality."
"Yes, I naturally have full confidence in these two products," John said unhurriedly. "But from a long-term perspective, the more product varieties, the better."
"What do you mean?"
"If the returns meet our expectations after one year, how about you develop one new drug each year?" John proposed shrewdly.
I shook my head in refusal. "Our cooperation is limited to the hemostatic drug and the special desensitization injection."
John didn't reveal his inner emotions and firmly tried to persuade me. "We're both in this for long-term cooperation, aren't we? More products benefit us both. Of course, if you think developing one new drug per year is too demanding, we can negotiate - the timeline could be two years, three years."
"Long-term cooperation?" I smiled and shook my head, with a barely noticeable coldness in my tone. "Last year I invited you to cooperate, but you kept delaying. If you had agreed to cooperate decisively back then, the hemostatic drug would be on the market by now. You might think nothing of these months of losses, but I don't see it that way."
John wanted to explain, but I raised my hand to signal he needn't bother.
"I hold the initiative in this partnership. You're not my only option."
As my reputation grew louder, my range of potential partners would only expand.
"Back in Dawnharbor, you sent me intelligence, so I do recognize you as a friend. But friendship is friendship, business is business," I said. "Let's cooperate for three years first. If after three years you can't show me you're more valuable than others, I'll change partners."
John was silent for a full half minute, then said decisively, "Alright, let's do as you say."
I smiled with satisfaction.
The somewhat stagnant air began to flow again. John smiled bitterly, "I didn't expect negotiating with you would actually make me feel pressured."
With the partnership settled, I was in the mood for some casual chat with him.
"How's Mason doing now?" I asked. "I didn't expect his condition to be so serious. You can send him to me, I'll try to treat him."
I suggested half-heartedly.
"Forget it! He gets scared just hearing your name," John laughed. "He used to always cause me trouble. This way is better."
"Besides, he was the one who first had improper thoughts about you. He deserved the lesson. I investigated afterward, about the person who sent Mason anonymous messages and instigated him," John paused deliberately, asking probingly, "Do you know who it was?"
I remembered that Grace really hated me at the time, so I suspected it was Grace, but I had no evidence. The clues from Mason were too few, so the investigation stalled.
"What?" I threw the question back. "Do you know who it was?"
John nodded. He actually knew.
"I really did put in a lot of effort to find out." John described his hardships, emphasizing his efforts, then said with a serious tone, "That person was Michelle."
It was her.
I rubbed my temples, not surprised at all.
After all, she was the only enemy who wished my whole family dead.
John sent me the evidence he found. I skimmed through it, confirmed it wasn't forged, thanked him, and gave him a vial of aphrodisiac as a thank-you gift.
"I feel like you're quite interested in the drug that poisoned Mason. Here's ten milliliters - one milliliter can let someone experience the same 'happiness' as Mason."
John nearly choked on his saliva. "What are you saying? How could I be interested in this stuff?"
I made a gesture to take the vial back. "If you don't want it, never mind."
"I didn't say I don't want it!" John reached out and grabbed the drug, then looked at me, his eyes still clear and upright.
I was speechless. What a hypocritical man.
After seeing John off, I returned to the VIP consultation room. Gerald and Beckett were still studying the surgical plan. I rested for a while before joining the discussion. It wasn't until evening that we came up with a result everyone was satisfied with.
Next, it would be handed to Roger to practice, waiting for the day to put it into practice.
After leaving the hospital, I returned to the hotel and went to a hidden room deep in the hotel.
Amelia had been staying here this whole time.
Seeing me, she was very surprised. "Why are you here?"
I ignored her, walked over and sat on the sofa. Amelia didn't mind my silence at all and started talking on her own. "I didn't expect your medical skills to be so amazing. Did Lucas not know at all before?"
Perhaps because her communication devices had been confiscated and her contact with the outside world cut off, unable to find anyone to talk to each day and only occasionally allowed out, plus having been imprisoned by Clarence before, Amelia seemed to have developed a habit of being chatty.
"By the way, you know Doyle, right? You have letters Doyle wrote to you at home. Do you know the Miracle Surgeon?" Amelia asked.
"I'm so bored every day. When will you let me go?"
"Let you go?" I chuckled lightly. "If you have no value left, I'll just kill you."
Amelia immediately stopped talking, her eyes full of fear.
I gave her a pen and a blank notebook. "About your mother Michelle - what things has she done to persecute my mother, my family, and me? Write down everything you know, the more detailed the better."
Amelia picked up the pen, hesitating and reluctant to write.
I looked at her with strong presence. "This is your chance to prove your value. If you don't write..."
"I'll write!" Amelia stated anxiously. "No one knows the bad things she's done better than I do!"