67: Chapter 67 Fear is the Best Currency

The rain was still falling, as if it wanted to drown this city directly in the Potomac River.

The television in the safe house was still on; the news anchor on the screen, with heavy bags under his eyes, had a trembling voice.

The footage cut to the area near Georgetown University. Three layers of police tape had been set up, and after the yellowish-green fog had dissipated, the streets now stood empty like a ghost town.

Occasionally, several hazmat vehicles, covered from head to toe, drove past, the standing water churned up by their wheels a murky, dark red.

"According to the latest news from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, this virus, tentatively named the Georgetown Flu, is highly airborne.

Currently, hospitals across the District have admitted over two thousand emergency patients; symptoms include high fever, coughing up blood, and..."

Chen Mo sat on the dilapidated sofa, the military-grade laptop resting on his knees.

His fingers typed on the keyboard rapidly, the clacking sound particularly harsh in the deathly silent room.

Jessica sat opposite him, clutching that bottle of mineral water, the plastic bottle already deformed from her grip.

She stared at Chen Mo, as if trying to bore a hole into that face.

"What are you doing?" Jessica finally couldn't help but ask, her voice hoarse.

"Counting money." Chen Mo didn't even turn his head. "Also, if you use any more force, that bottle will burst and wet my carpet."

"You know that's not what I'm asking." Jessica slammed the water bottle onto the coffee table.

"That chip! Hoffman's chip! You've already cracked it, haven't you? That chemical formula, that sequence—that's the cure!"

"It's the original formula for the vaccine and antiviral serum," Chen Mo corrected, casually picking up the coffee beside him and taking a sip.

"Hoffman really was a genius; not only did he make the lock, but he also prepared the key in advance. That is the most valuable part of this deal."

"Then hand it over!" Jessica stood up abruptly and rushed in front of Chen Mo.

"People are dying out there every minute! The ventilators in those hospitals aren't enough! For every second you hold onto this thing, another person will die from lung dissolution!"

Chen Mo stopped typing.

He slowly raised his head; his eyes were calm, without a ripple.

"Sit down."

Two simple words, no roaring, yet they carried a chill that made one's knees go weak.

Jessica froze in place, her chest heaving violently.

"Miss Nightingale, your current identity is that of a dead person." Chen Mo pointed to the TV screen.

"And in that world, the living follow a different set of rules—that is, supply and demand."

"Supply and demand?" Jessica looked at him in disbelief. "These are human lives!"

"That is precisely the point." Chen Mo turned the computer screen around; on it was a complex candlestick chart, the red curve like a viper with its head raised, crazily devouring everything around it.

"Look at this; these are the stock prices for Pfizer and Georgetown Bio. From last night until now, they've risen by three hundred percent."

"So what?"

"If you hand over the formula now, throwing it to that Rogers who kicked you out, or to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention."

Chen Mo tapped the screen. "What will they do? They will declare this a 'great victory,' then lock the formula in a safe, to be carved up by the major pharmaceutical giants.

They will use ten thousand excuses like insufficient production capacity, approval processes, and logistics to drive the price of the vaccine to the sky."

Chen Mo stood up, walked to the window, and opened a slit in the blinds.

On the street outside, an ambulance was screaming past with its siren blaring.

"No one cherishes free things, Agent Jessica.

If you send them the cure now, they will only think it's taken for granted, and might even suspect your motives, wondering if there's poison hidden in this cure."

He turned around, his back to the rain curtain outside the window, his face hidden in the shadows.

"Fear is the best currency in this world. Right now, the fear is not enough.

Those big shots sitting on Capitol Hill haven't started coughing yet, and those Wall Street tycoons haven't seen their own relatives cough up blood. They still think this is just an 'accident' happening in the poor districts."

"How long are you going to wait?" Jessica's voice was trembling; it was anger, and also a deep sense of powerlessness.

"Until they kneel down and beg me." Chen Mo sat back down on the sofa, his fingers placed on the keyboard once again.

"Until they are willing to trade every bit of power, wealth, and dignity they hold in their hands for this one small test tube. At that moment, this won't just be a cure; it will be God's gift."

The phone on the table vibrated.

Chen Mo answered; it was Jack Martin.

"Boss! It's crazy! It's completely crazy!" Jack's almost hysterical roar came from the other end of the phone, the background filled with noisy static.

"Airline stocks have crashed! Boeing is down 40%! Our short positions have made a fortune! That idiot from Goldman Sachs just called asking me to close the position, and I told him to get lost!"

"Very good." Chen Mo's tone was flat. "Don't rush to close the net. That small company called Atlas Medical, what's its market cap now?"

"It's up tenfold! But I checked, it's a shell company; there's nothing there except a few factories that are about to be scrapped..."

"There will be soon." Chen Mo interrupted him.

"Take half of the money we made and inject it into Atlas Medical through that 'Legacy' fund. I want you to announce by tomorrow morning that Atlas Medical has mastered a new type of antiviral technology."

"But we don't have..."

"I do." Chen Mo glanced at Jessica beside him. "And it's an exclusive monopoly."

After hanging up, Chen Mo dialed another number; it was Ava Rockefeller.

"I'm listening." Ava's voice sounded a bit tired, but more than that, excited.

"How are things on the media side?"

"Everything is going according to your script," Ava said in a low voice.

"'Truth Exposed' has already released a press release, hinting that this virus leak is related to some ulterior political conspiracy.

I also bribed a few medical experts to spread panic on Twitter, saying that this virus will cause permanent genetic damage."

"Increase the intensity." Chen Mo ordered.

"I want every American holding a phone to feel an itch in their throat before they go to sleep tonight. Tell them that Washington has been abandoned by God."

"Understood."

Chen Mo put down the phone and looked at the pale-faced Jessica.

"See, this is the correct process for saving people." Chen Mo unplugged the card reader containing the chip and tossed it in his hand.

"First let them become critically ill, then sell them the only crutch. This lesson is free for you."