New Leek Field

Murphy frowned. He knew nothing about business warfare, but even he could tell this move was truly insidious.

"How about this? It's not like we can't take a step back," Murphy said. "I can sell off up to 20% of the shares. No listing, just a transfer of shares. They can't take part in company operations or decision-making, but they can share in the profits Cloud White Medicine brings in the future. However, they have to exchange their research institutions for those shares."

"In the previous versions of the research institute construction plans you gave me, didn't Wellcome and the others have a few decent research institutes that they were planning to cut because they weren't profitable? Give me those research institutes, and I'll give them shares."

"This... those research institutes are indeed quite good, but considering Cloud White Medicine's future profitability, exchanging shares for these few research institutes would be quite a loss."

"That's not how you calculate it." Murphy really did not care much about this part. "Money we haven't earned yet is basically just an empty check. Spending not a penny and getting several research institutes we need right now in return—isn't that a great deal?"

Besides, in the future, Cloud White Medicine would not be the only place he made money.

"All right, I'll go talk to them again," Patrick agreed. "There's also some good news. The clinical trial approval in the United States has entered its final stage. We used a bit of a donation offensive, so it should be approved soon."

"Good!" Murphy said happily. "Oh, right, I also have some good news to share with you."

As he spoke, he took out the Beauty Potion and placed it on the table.

"What is this?"

"Something that can make people more beautiful. Pour out a little and try rubbing it on your face."

The Beauty Potion was actually mainly meant to be taken orally, but it was also effective when applied externally. It would only take effect on the area where it was applied, however.

And that was exactly what Murphy valued.

If one bottle of potion could make a person beautiful overall, then what would be the point of things like facial masks, eye creams, conditioners, essential oils, leg creams, and so on?

And if he did not split it into so many categories, how was he supposed to fleece the leeks?

Patrick took the potion in confusion, dripped two drops onto his hand, and rubbed it over his face. A moment later, he only felt a slight tightness and tingling itch on his face, but very soon, that sensation disappeared.

Still baffled, he looked at Murphy. "And now?"

"Look in the mirror yourself."

There was no mirror in Patrick's office, so he looked at himself in the glass cabinet door. At first he was puzzled, and then his face filled with shock.

Who the hell was this handsome young man who looked twenty years younger?!

Fortunately, his bald head was still the same bald head, allowing him to recognize himself.

And when he looked closely, the brows and eyes did indeed seem to be his own. It was just that the proportions of his features had been finely adjusted. The overall outline was still the same, but it looked much more pleasing than before.

More importantly, this firm, moist skin felt bouncy and smooth to the touch. Even when he had been young, his skin had never been this good!

Patrick could not hold back and immediately called his assistant to bring over a mirror.

The female assistant looked at Patrick's appearance, so shocked her jaw nearly dropped. She left with extreme reluctance, dragging her feet every step of the way.

She desperately wanted to know whether her manager had gone for plastic surgery. If so, she absolutely had to be told which hospital it was. Even if she had to bankrupt herself, she would go there once.

Patrick examined himself for a long time and could not bear to look away, utterly intoxicated by his own beauty.

Like women, most men actually loved beauty too. It was just that society was relatively lenient toward men in terms of appearance, so without pressure, everyone was too lazy to fuss over it.

"That's enough, Patrick. You can go home later and admire yourself slowly."

It took Patrick great effort to toss the mirror aside. "Terrifying. This thing is simply the devil!"

"Whether it's the devil or not, I don't know. Do you think this thing can make money?"

"Yes! Absolutely yes!" Patrick grew excited. "Can this thing be mass-produced too?"

Murphy told Patrick his thoughts, including ideas for various beauty products such as facial masks and creams, then finally said, "For now, the production volume of this essence isn't high, but just like the White Medicine stock solution, its effects overflow as well. We can also mix in other ingredients to increase the shipment volume."

"What is it called?"

"Let's call it Beauty Essence."

"What's the current production volume roughly?"

Murphy calculated it. On average, Alex could brew four or five pots of Beauty Potion a day. If one pot was about two liters, that would be around eight to ten liters of essence. With some effort, steadily producing ten liters should not be a problem.

"About ten liters a day," Murphy said.

Patrick did some mental arithmetic. What he had just applied to his hand had probably only been two or three drops, about 0.1 milliliters.

The actual effect had in fact overflowed.

If the change produced was too great, it might instead cause undesirable effects, so it would be better to keep diluting it.

Assuming it was diluted roughly fivefold and could still achieve a decent effect, then the essence required for each facial mask would be about 0.02 milliliters.

Ten liters of essence could produce five hundred thousand facial masks. In terms of daily shipment volume, that was already more than enough.

And based on current facial mask prices, mid-to-high-end masks averaged 5 to 10 pounds each. That would be millions of pounds in revenue.

"It works! It should be enough for now!" Patrick became excited. "If we can launch this kind of facial mask, perhaps White Medicine's predicament won't be a problem anymore. We could even rely on the funds from the masks to hold out until the clinical trials end!"

Murphy nodded. "If you also think it's feasible, then go do it. Buy a cosmeceutical factory or something and get the product made as soon as possible."

Meanwhile.

Malfoy Manor.

After Lucius had lunch, a house-elf brought a short wizard before him.

"How did it go?" Lucius asked.

"Papede was scared out of his wits and didn't dare go back, but we still found the barn. It had already been burned to the ground, though. Nothing was left. We searched for ages and didn't find any clues."

"What, you still came up empty-handed?!" Lucius was starting to get angry.

A few days ago, the man he had sent to "talk business" with that troublemaker, Papede, had been beaten beyond recognition. And what was more, even knowing who Lucius was, the fellow had still dared to insult him.

It was simply far too arrogant!

Lucius felt it was necessary to make that ignorant brat pay the price.

However, the people he sent out afterward were all like headless flies, busying themselves for many days without gaining a single thing.

The name Papede had gotten from that Alex was fake. There was no such person as Peter Parker in the British wizarding world!

And the name that fellow had used when renting the Muggle barn was fake as well.

The trail ended there.

"Please hear me out first, Master. We couldn't count on the barn for anything, so we investigated Alex Wood. He's already gone into hiding, but we asked his former boss, Slug, and Slug gave us an interesting line of thought."