Midtown Manhattan, Worthington Tower.
This towering giant of steel stood in the world's largest concentration of skyscrapers, shoulder to shoulder with the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, and the Chrysler Building, forming a striking part of the nation's economic and cultural center.
Marcus Worthington strode into the conference room. As the helmsman of a major multinational corporation, Marcus, who had celebrated his sixtieth birthday the week before, still appeared vigorous and sharp. He carried the imposing aura of one in power, stern and majestic like an aging lion.
"A young genius the media has praised to the heavens, and a mediocre, incompetent company heir—they're like newborn calves, ignorant and fearless, trying to charge into the biomedical field and encroach upon Worthington's empire. And none of you have any way to stop them?"
Marcus slammed a copy of Vanity Fair heavily onto the table. On its cover was a black-haired young man with a brilliant smile, while the subtitle, "Ushering in a New Era for the United States Pharmaceutical Industry," was especially glaring.
"I invest billions of dollars every year into developing new drugs, yet the result is a gradual decline in market share... A young man who is only twenty-one invented a genetic drug in a university laboratory that could cure brain degeneration. Tell me, gentlemen, aren't you ashamed?!"
Faced with Marcus Worthington's furious tirade, the senior managers from every department in the conference room did not dare refute him. All of them lowered their heads. They knew full well the forceful style of Worthington's leader; the private nickname of "tyrant" had not arisen for nothing.
Marcus's stern gaze swept across the room. Seeing everyone silent as cicadas, too frightened to utter a word, only made the anger in his heart rise further.
This lion-like old man had controlled the