I Became a Plague Doctor in a Romance Fantasy Novel

Episode 81. More Persuasion than Medicine (1)

Episode 81. More Persuasion than Medicine (1)

Cutting to the chase. Since the hospital patients were all discharged, I, along with the graduate students and Mint, headed to the Imperial Palace as fast as we could.

This is the main gate of the Imperial Palace. Mint and I passed the guards and entered the palace.

“So. You’re starting a company?”

“Yes.”

“What, if you were planning that, you should have told me.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that I didn’t intend to tell Mint. I was going to ask Mint about it from the beginning…

More than that.

“It wasn’t originally the plan, you know. Academia is way more idiotic than I thought. So, there was no other choice.”

“Really?”

“I was trying to take it easy, but those alchemy professors got all prickly. It pissed me off, so I came to the palace for an audience.”

“How about coming back to the palace for good this time?”

Where’d you pull *that* from? I glanced sideways at Mint. She snickered.

“The palace has no students for me to teach, no colleagues to persuade, no patients to heal. I have no intention of returning to the palace for the time being.”

“I suppose not.”

He seemed unconcerned. After all, Mint’s at the academy too, so I guess my being there isn’t a huge disappointment for him.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Ah. I’m going to persuade the imperial family to establish a company this time, borrow some government funds, and make it something like a public corporation. You’ve heard of stocks, right?”

“Of course, I have.”

The first joint-stock company was established in 1602. It’s not strange that the concept of a joint-stock company exists in this world, I suppose.

Hmm. In the original history, the first joint-stock company was the Dutch East India Company. They’re notorious for many reasons… I’m not sure if the joint-stock companies in this world are also a system created for that kind of imperialist exploitation.

Doesn’t seem like it, though.

Anyway, in this era, most of what you could call proper joint-stock companies are state-backed public corporations or chartered companies. Companies established by royal decree or law.

That’s what I’m aiming to create, too.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about, right? If the government won’t pay, you or Manfred could invest. Of course, the scale would be different.”

“I guess so.”

“Be grateful for the grace.”

“Ah. Thank you…”

Mint nodded, all puffed up with importance.

The Imperial Central Conference Room.

It was bigger than any of the places I’d been to so far. Way more people were crammed in than when I gave that cholera presentation last time.

Contrary to the original plan, they told me not to bring the grad students in. They looked relieved to have dodged an uncomfortable situation, secretly, I bet.

Is it because of the money?

The Emperor wasn’t there, but everyone else of importance was. Mint and Manfred were seated at the head table, and about ten other people were gathered around.

The governor of the Imperial Central Bank. Violet, probably there as an expert, and a few other faces I couldn’t place.

Violet’s here again.

She’s a truly astounding human.

She doesn’t do any work, yet all of Violet’s superiors seem to think she’s a genius expert. Especially the Prince.

When I was seeing Mint’s doctor in the Imperial Palace, she got me to let her tag along while paying me money.

When I presented my research at the academy, she convinced Manfred that she’d been at the academy, lazing around under the guise of further education, and developing new theories with me or learning from me.

She heard about penicillin early on, too, skimped on the research costs, and now sits among the officials as if she’s discovered some kind of pioneering finding.

Seriously. I was so dumbfounded that I just stared at Violet. And Violet, thinking I was acknowledging her, winked at me.

Fine. She helped, so I’ll let it go.

“Good day, everyone. Today-”

I started to speak, but the Prince raised his hand. What’s he gonna start on now…? I had no choice but to stop talking.

“We greet the Prince.”

“Doctor Asterix. Just the conclusion.”

Ugh, what an oddball moron.

“Ah… please, give me some money to sell the medicine.”

The prince nodded, seemingly satisfied.

No, seriously, what kind of slapdash meeting is this? Citizens of the Empire, this is how your taxes are being spent. Most of the high-ranking nobles and officials are useless trash who can’t be bothered to listen to a 20-minute presentation, so they demand a 3-second summary…

Mint chuckled hollowly. I looked around the conference room. There’s no way these people can just let this blatant absurdity slide. Or can they?

Adelbert Apfler, the Governor of the Imperial Central Bank.

I thought he’d be an old man. Surprisingly, he was a young man with impressive, stiff black hair… no, not young. He was a middle-aged man.

“You can talk to me about money.”

“Yes.”

“Just tell me one thing. What you want, and what you can offer in return.”

That’s two things, sir.

“I want to see a system where penicillin can be distributed to everyone who needs it.”

“And what can you offer?”

“Well… if a chartered company is established this time, I’ll give the government the majority of the shares.”

“How quickly can the investment be recovered? Let’s estimate the necessary scale.”

“Uh… isn’t the goal not to generate profit? The government is investing funds to produce the necessary medicine and conduct research.”

“But shouldn’t the doors of the enterprise be kept open?”

I pondered for a moment.

“Well, if you had to put a price on it… it seems that the profitability of penicillin could be adjusted as needed through the price of the medicine.”

“You’re saying it’s a blank check?”

“That’s how I see it. Now, it’s up to the government to weigh the operating conditions of the licensed company and public health, and set a price.”

“Let’s get specific.”

I thought for a moment.

“Penicillin can be used for postpartum fever, surgery, and preventing gangrene in deep wounds. Three million babies are born every year.”

“Preventing?”

“Yes. It can also be used retroactively.”

“That’s good. If it’s for prevention, that means the demand can be determined as we choose.”

“Hmm.”

I briefly frowned.

No choice. It means there’s no disagreement about the drug’s efficacy.

“Yes. Potential postpartum fever patients, wound patients, gangrene patients, and surgical patients. Based on statistics, I’m estimating a total of about ten million. Conservatively speaking.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Ten million pills. About 30,000 a day. If you can get up to 30 pills from 1 liter of culture medium, we’d need 1,000 liters a day.”

“That’s less than I expected?”

“Assuming it takes four weeks to grow the blue mold. Seven 4,000-liter fermenters would be enough. Or ten 3,000-liter fermenters. This is also a conservative estimate.”

“Let’s say ten fermenters. How much would it cost to operate them?”

“We don’t know yet. We were thinking, generously, an initial facility cost of 1 million gold per fermenter. 10 million gold for all ten.”

“If you sell each pill for 1 gold, you’re saying you could recoup the initial facility cost in about a year? Even without considering operating costs?”

“That’s about right. But I hope you’ll consider the social benefit of the drug, not just as a means to make money.”

“I don’t comment carelessly on topics I don’t understand. I’m not talking about making money, but about my area of expertise.”

Okay, got it.

“So, I see.”

“Bottom line. Since you’re the only ones producing this irreplaceable drug, you can adjust the price however you want to hit any financial target the government’s aiming for, right?”

I thought we’d be debating whether we could actually make the drug, how effective it’d be, and stuff like that. Guess that stuff doesn’t matter.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I have no further questions.”

The Chairman dude put down the papers he was looking at. I let out a small sigh. This is a bit of an unexpected twist.

On the other hand, some things just got easier. The Prince, sitting at the head of the table, scribbled on his paper and then turned his head towards Violet.

“Ms. Violet.”

“Ah, yes!”

Violet jolted upright, like she’d been dozing.

“Ms. Violet, you personally researched this core technology and attended the relevant academic conferences, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“Is it feasible?”

“I discussed it with Professor Asterix in several letters. The purification of penicillin has been completed, which is why the professor is here.”

“That’s a relief.”

I never had any of those letter exchanges. Violet occasionally sends me letters, so this was all build-up for *this*…… The Prince thought for a moment, then turned to look at me and opened his mouth.

“You shouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket. Even if we set up a franchise company like the professor says, relying on a single drug is dangerous.”

“That’s correct.”

“So, Professor Asterix. If this one fails, what’s the backup plan? Tell me.”

“There is another drug. An anti-inflammatory painkiller that can be extracted from willow trees.”

“Oh.”

But it didn’t seem like the answer he wanted.

“Like I said before. No need to complicate things with making medicine. Why don’t you just open a hospital, doctor? You could make money with your reputation.”

“Ah.”

“For you. People, like high-ranking nobles, are lining up to be treated by the healer who cured the Princess. I’ve explained several times that you’re not someone who listens, but they all seem to have a hard time understanding.”

“Medicine is not an object for auction. The poor suffer relatively more, and treating them is more important. It’s a significant risk to go in the exact opposite direction.”

“See? He doesn’t listen at all.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway. I’ll do as you wish, Doctor Asterix, but if it doesn’t work out within a few years, wrap things up and open a hospital. You can make up for it there.”