Chapter 225: Artificial Organs (14) |
Two days before Peng Kui and Chen Shui left for the airport, Peng Kui informed the South Korean government that Chen Shui was traveling to Seoul. This was a bit of a gamble on Chen Shui’s part. If he could truly complete his surgery in secret and return to China with the help of the Korean government, he could maintain his power.
However, the Korean government would know a huge weakness of China. Still, it was the only way to avoid the worst-case scenario. As such, Peng Kui relayed this information to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Korea through the Chinese ambassador. Then, the Minister of Foreign Affairs came to see Young-Joon with the Chinese ambassador.
“Doctor Ryu, let’s transport the President’s heart and do the surgery quietly in another hospital outside the Next Generation Hospital. This will give South Korea a huge advantage diplomatically,” said the minister.
“...”
Instead of replying, Young-Joon frowned and took a sip of his tea.
“Oh…”
The Chinese ambassador, flustered by the look on Young-Joon’s face, quickly spoke up.
“China will give you their full support if you help us just this once.”
He fumbled for a stack of papers and held them out.
“A-GenBio is capable of branching out into Guangdong without President Chen Shui’s help. We could even start right now,” Young-Joon said. “A-GenBio is quite popular in Guangdong because we stopped the mosquito crisis. And there’s no country or city that wouldn’t like us because it increases the size of their healthcare industry.”
“...”
The minister stepped in to intervene as the ambassador was flustered.
“Doctor Ryu, it’s very unusual for the Chinese party to humble themselves like this,” he said. “And think about this, Doctor Ryu: if the President is able to receive treatment, return to China quietly, and stay in power, we’d be the only ones to know about his surgery.”
“So?”
“In state relations, information is power. We would be in exclusive possession of information that could shake the Chinese government to its core, and that would give us an advantage in diplomacy going forward. The diplomatic benefits would be enormous,” the minister said, looking at the ambassador. “The Chinese government already knew this would happen. They asked us to cooperate even though they knew.”
Young-Joon closed his eyes. He leaned back on the sofa, lost in thought.
“I realize that the Chinese party is being humble,” he said. “But I cannot do that.”
Young-Joon was firm.
“Doctor Ryu…”
“I can’t,” Young-Joon said again, firmly.
The minister and ambassador were speechless.
“The doctors at A-GenBio Next Generation Hospital are the best human resources in Korea. They see up to one hundred patients a day. They skip meals regularly because they don’t have the time, and they sometimes run around with exam rooms open because opening doors is a waste of time. There are even some doctors who ride segways around the hospital.”
“...”
“But if we take something that can be treated and operated there and move it to another hospital, we’re going to have to move the entire medical team that’s doing the surgery and the artificial heart to comply with biosafety specimen transportation laws,” Young-Joon said. “On top of that, the equipment set-up and contamination levels would have to be tested again because the operating room would have changed. I don’t want to cause that much trouble to our hospital’s medical staff.”
“...”
“When I was a full-time scientist working at A-Gen with nothing, I saw a liver cancer drug called Cellicure disappear. A better drug was destroyed through patent law to keep the company profitable,” Young-Joon said. “From that moment on, I decided that I would never let any falsehood or unethical practice in biology and medicine fly by. Science should always be a search for the truth and a good force to create a better future, not a weapon to cover up the truth and set technology back to suit powerful people and companies.”
“We can gain a permanent diplomatic advantage if we let it go just this once.”
The minister pleaded once more.
“It’s always about that one time,” Young-Joon said. “That one time is more important to me than those idealistic diplomatic gains.”
“...”
“I will forget about our meeting today. Please be careful to not expose your face to the public, Mr. Ambassador, as many eyes are watching. I’m sure you don’t want any unnecessary rumors to be made.”
* * *
Now that Young-Joon had refused, there was nothing the South Korean government could do about it. A-GenBio’s Next Generation Hospital was a private hospital, not a state institution. There were also foreign reporters there, not domestic media; what could the government do about them?
Even if they banned them and told them to leave, they could just say they were here for medical treatment; there was no legal basis for sanctioning them. Maybe they could do something in China, where Chen Shui could use his power, but the South Korean government couldn’t unleash the military to control the hospital.
When Chen Shui finally arrived at A-GenBio with Peng Kui and a few of his closest aides, he was too scared to get out of the car. At the entrance to the Next Generation Hospital, reporters and citizens were swarming everywhere, including the parking lot, the information desk, the lounge, and more.
“There are a lot of Chinese people…” Chen Shui said quietly.
Chinese people working in Korea had also come to the hospital.
“We just need to get to the operating room. Let’s go in quietly.”
Like Peng Kui, Chen Shui pushed down his cap and walked toward the elevator. They got on the elevator when it was empty and pressed for the fourth floor, where the operating room was located.
But just before the elevator doors closed…
“Excuse me.”
Three Chinese men grabbed the elevator door and came inside. They were about to press the button for the fourth floor when they realized the button was already pressed.
“...”
The three men silently gazed at the side of Chen Shui’s face.
“Ni shi zongtong ma?” one of the men asked Chen Shui.
They were asking if he was the president.
“N–No,” quickly replied Peng Kui, embarrassed. “Let’s take the escalator.”
Peng Kui grabbed his hand and got off the elevator hastily.
As they walked toward the escalator, the three Chinese men shouted behind them.
“It’s Chen Shui!”
Everyone on the ground floor turned their heads toward the escalator. A few nimble reporters quickly took out their cameras and rushed towards them.
“Shit.”
Peng Kui grabbed Chen Shui’s arm and ran up the escalator. But reporters were also waiting for them at the top, holding their cameras. Some of them impatiently started running down the escalator, which was going up, with their microphones and cameras pointed at Chen Shui. Cameras were clicking from everywhere.
“Hey!”
Security guards were running towards them from the second floor.
* * *
—They must be struggling quite a bit right now.
Rosaline stood up.
“There won’t be any accidents since there are security guards at the hospital, but they’ll be humiliated. He won’t be able to stay in power,” Young-Joon said as he clipped his fingernails.
—I just don’t understand.
Rosaline hopped up onto Young-Joon’s desk.
“What?”
—Why is he so obsessed with maintaining power?
“Yeah.”
—The biology of desiring power is simple: the more dominant you are in a group, the more opportunities you have to mate, and the more likely you are to spread your genes. But isn’t Chen Shui already past that age?
Young-Joon chuckled.
“You’re right.”
—He wants to hold onto his position, even at the risk of constantly doing diplomatic damage to his country.
Rosaline seemed puzzled.
—There are a lot of things about this world that are surprisingly hard for me to understand, like that labor camp in Xinjiang where people were locked up.
“Because that’s not biological,” Young-Joon said.
—To me, it looks like they all have mental illnesses.
“Do you think you can cure it?”
—No, it’s not a biological illness like schizophrenia.
“A caveman wouldn’t have the desire to lock up millions of people in camp. It’s a madness that came from the development of human society.”
—What do you think will happen to the people who were trapped in Xinjiang?
“I think the international community is going to put a lot of pressure on that region now. There are the things that China has done, they have evidence, and they have reason now, right? Deliva, was it? That girl will keep giving statements about the labor camps. Now, China has no choice but to get rid of them.
—Really?
“Or the international community will try to break up Xinjiang and divide it into pieces, and there’s only one way to stop that opinion from taking over the international community is to get rid of these camps. They’ll say that there are no more human rights violations in the region and that what happened before was a mistake of the previous president. They’ll all act friendly to Xinjiang.”
—-Do you think the international community would be that united and keep China in check?
“Absolutely. Xinjiang has coal, oil, and natural gas; it’s full of treats. America’s probably already got a napkin tied around its neck right now to eat it.”
Rosaline frowned.
—They’re not worried about the people imprisoned in those abnormal camps?
“Most people are probably worried, but there aren’t many countries or organizations who are willing to fight a large country like China just because they are worried,” Young-Joon said. “If there is, maybe A-GenBio?”
Knock knock!
Someone was at Young-Joon’s office.
Mr. Ryu, Doctor Cheon is here with a guest.”
Young-Joon could hear Yoo Song-Mi’s voice.
“A guest?” Young-Joon asked as he opened the door.
Cheon Ji-Myung was standing there with an overweight, middle-aged woman.
“Hello, Doctor Ryu.”
The woman greeted him.
“I’m Elsie. I used to work in the Life Creation Department.”
Young-Joon was surprised.
“Oh! Yes, hello. Come in.”
—Huh?!
Rosaline looked flustered all of a sudden.
‘What’s wrong?’
Young-Joon glanced back and asked her in her head.
—I know her.
‘You know her?’
—I remember. It’s a faint memory from a long time ago, but… I’ve felt this person’s bioinformation before when I was in a flask.
‘...’
“Looks like we have a lot to talk about/”
Elsie walked in and sat down on the sofa.
“Thank you, Doctor Cheon. Could you let us talk alone for a moment?” Young-Joon asked.
“Yes, I can’t stay away from the lab long anyway. The orders for artificial organs are still coming in at the moment.”
“I’m sorry. Please keep up the good work,” said Young-Joon, patting Cheon Ji-Myung on the back.
After Cheon Ji-Myung and Yoo Song-Mi left, Elsie took a deep breath.
“Should we start with Doctor Ref or Rosaline?” she asked.
