49: Chapter 49 Spending 20 Billion to Buy Out a Miracle Drug? Nobel Laureate: You're Committing a Crime!

In the western part of Jingzhou, inside a traditional courtyard house, the renovated side wing had become a bona fide "cyber cave."

Three walls were covered in soundproofing foam, while the fourth was completely occupied by two rows of industrial-grade server racks, their blue indicator lights flickering in the dark room like a sea of stars.

Bundles of cables as thick as arms snaked across the floor from the base of the cabinets to the workbench in the corner, where six monitors were arranged in a fan shape, with seven empty instant noodle cups and three energy drink cans piled up next to the keyboard.

Lin Xiaoman was curled up in her ergonomic chair, her feet tucked onto the seat, and her hood pulled down to her eyebrows.

Different programs ran across the six screens: compilation windows for underlying encryption protocols, topology maps of global satellite signal relay nodes, algorithmic frameworks for capturing spectral fluctuations of exotic beast energy, and test logs for the handshake protocol of the Kindling internal communication system.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and code cascaded down like a waterfall.

Building an encrypted communication network independent of the global public internet, while simultaneously embedding an exotic beast signal monitoring module—the workload was equivalent to three months of work for a national-level cybersecurity team.

She was doing it all by herself.

The plastic stick of the lollipop she was biting on was already covered in dense tooth marks.

The clock in the bottom right corner of the screen jumped to 3:17 AM, but her eyes hadn't left the code for a single second.

It was hard.

Perversely hard.

Every time she finished writing a module, the test would expose new compatibility issues.

Solve one problem, and three new ones would pop up.

4:00 AM.

The eleventh compilation error occurred.

Lin Xiaoman buried her face in her knees, curling herself into a ball.

It was very quiet, save for the hum of the server fans and the sound of her own breathing.

She thought of the moment Liu Yuyan landed from a pillar of light, clad in silver-white armor.

Eight points of light merged into her chest, holy light swirled, and sword and shield were in hand.

In that moment, there was something in Liu Yuyan's eyes that Lin Xiaoman had never seen in herself.

It wasn't the confidence of "I can do this," but the sense of mission that "This is what I must do."

What about her?

What could she shoulder?

Protecting humanity?

Protecting civilization?

What would she use to protect them?

A keyboard?

Lin Xiaoman lifted her face from her knees and stared at the dense error logs on the screen.

Saving humanity was too big; she couldn't grasp it.

But—hacking and code, this was her home turf.

In the whole world, no one understood better than her how to catch a needle in an ocean of data.

If Kindling needed eyes, she would be the best pair of eyes it had.

Thinking of this, she took a deep breath, pulled the plastic stick out of her mouth, threw it into the trash, and tore open a new strawberry lollipop.

Her fingertips landed on the keyboard again, and she typed the first line of repair code.

In the courtyard.

Moonlight fell on the stone path.

Su Chen stood under the pomegranate tree, listening to the clacking of the keyboard leaking from the cracks of the closed door of the side wing.

A child who had been ignored since childhood, suddenly entrusted with the mission of "protecting the world," would not react with hot-blooded excitement at first, but with fear—fear of not being worthy.

She needed a transformation.

Not a transformation behind a keyboard, but one on a real battlefield of blood and fire.

Next time an exotic beast appeared, he would have Liu Yuyan take her along.

She didn't need to fight; she was still an ordinary person.

But she needed to see those things with her own eyes.

To see the helplessness of ordinary people in the face of disaster, to see the desperation of superhumans facing monsters, and to see how much lives the code in her hands and the monitoring system she built saved on the real battlefield.

It was precisely because she was an ordinary person that it was even more interesting.

Su Chen withdrew his gaze.

After completing the mission, Liu Yuyan would return overnight and be back at the courtyard early in the morning.

She would also bring back that E-rank crystal.

She had done a truly good job with this mission.

Su Chen opened his notebook, flipped past the pages for Lin Xiaoman and Liu Yuyan, and stopped at a name.

Henry Bernstein.

Nobel Laureate in Physiology or Medicine.

A leading authority in global tumor immunology.

Elder Liu's former attending physician.

He had practiced medicine for forty years, saved countless lives, possessed an extremely high vision, and believed in empirical science.

That pill had already torn a crack in his solid worldview.

It wasn't enough.

He needed another push.

Su Chen wrote four words on a blank page—"Nightingale."

The chess game in the country had already been laid out.

Liu Yuyan controlled the finances, Lin Xiaoman controlled intelligence, and the authorities were already spontaneously digging up history for Kindling.

It was time to plant the first seed overseas.

And Henry Bernstein was the best carrier for this seed.

A Westerner, a Nobel Laureate, a benchmark figure in the global medical community.

If he became a member of Kindling—the authenticity of Kindling in the Western world would take off immediately.

Meanwhile, in the southern part of Jingzhou, at the Sun Family's private estate.

A complex of European-style buildings was nestled deep among the London plane trees, and inside the wrought-iron gates were exquisitely manicured lawns and an artificial lake.

On the third floor, in the guest room on the east side.

The door was electronically locked from the outside.

The windows could be opened, but outside was a twelve-meter vertical drop and twenty-four-hour rotating security.

Henry Bernstein sat in an armchair by the window.

His white hair was neat, his gold-rimmed glasses were polished spotless, and his dark blue shirt was buttoned to the very top.

Even after being under house arrest for nearly half a month, he still maintained the dignity of a scholar.

On the table were exquisite meals prepared by the Sun Family—Wagyu beef, truffles, and 1982 Lafite.

Henry hadn't touched a bite, drinking only the plain water from the pot.

The door lock clicked.

Sun Bonian walked in.

He was fifty-seven, his hair combed meticulously, wearing a custom-made suit with jade cufflinks.

The Sun Medical Group had medical industries spread across thirty-eight countries globally, with a market value exceeding 200 billion US dollars.

He sat down and took a document from his assistant.

"Professor Henry, 237 papers, a Nobel Prize, lifetime honorary professor at twenty-six top universities globally."

Sun Bonian flipped through the document, his tone filled with sincere respect,

"I can't count how many people you've saved over forty years. To be honest, in the medical field, you are the one I admire the most."

Henry didn't respond.

"So I don't want to make things difficult for you."

Sun Bonian closed the file,

"Professor, let's speak plainly. Liu Hongde, terminal cancer, multi-organ metastasis, the death sentence you personally signed. Three days later, all cancer cells disappeared into thin air, without even a scar. This is not a medical miracle—medicine cannot do this."

"Behind this, there must be a technology or substance that transcends the existing medical system."

"Hand it over to us, the Sun Family. We have the most comprehensive drug development pipeline and clinical trial network in the world. We can mass-produce it within three years. Professor, just think about it, how many people could this save?"

"In return, the Sun Family is willing to offer ten percent of our global shares. Based on current market value—that's 20 billion US dollars."

Henry Bernstein took off his glasses and slowly wiped the lenses with the hem of his shirt.

The movement was very slow, as if he were finding a reason not to lose his temper.

"Mr. Sun."

He put his glasses back on, his blue-gray eyes looking at Sun Bonian through the lenses, his gaze as sharp as a scalpel.

"First, that is not my technology. You can keep me locked up here, but the answer won't change."

"Second, even if it were my technology—I would never hand it over to the Sun Family."

Sun Bonian's smile froze.

"Do you know why?"

Henry's voice was not loud,

"Because regarding what you said about 'mass production in three years,' what happens after mass production? What will the pricing be? Who will be able to afford it? I've seen too much, Mr. Sun. A dose of insulin costs less than five dollars to produce, but under the operations of companies like yours, it costs five hundred dollars by the time it reaches the patient. Life-saving medicine has turned into a money-printing machine."

"If that technology really exists, once it falls into your hands, it will become the most expensive luxury in the world. The rich will extend their lives, and the poor will wait for death. This is not saving lives! This is harvesting all of humanity in the name of saving lives."

Sun Bonian's expression changed.

"Professor, that remark—"

"I haven't finished yet."

Henry interrupted him, his voice still not loud, but his tone carried an absolute authority that only appeared when he was giving orders in the operating room.

"I have only believed in one thing in my life—before life, everyone is equal. This is not a slogan written in a paper. It is a creed carved into my bones when I was twenty-eight years old in a refugee camp in Africa, performing surgery for fourteen consecutive hours under a borrowed surgical lamp."

"You have confiscated my communication equipment and restricted my personal freedom. After I leave here, I will file a formal complaint with the International Medical Ethics Committee and relevant Chinese authorities. But that is not the most important thing."

He stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to Sun Bonian.

"The most important thing is that the existence capable of curing terminal cancer, whether it is a person, a technology, or something beyond science, chose not to be made public, and it must have its reasons! Perhaps it is precisely because there are too many people like you in this world."

The room was silent for ten seconds.

Sun Bonian stood up, his facial expression switching from gentle to something colder.

"Professor, you are a smart man. I hope you will think about it again."

The door lock clicked shut from the outside.

A click.

Henry Bernstein stood alone by the window.

The sunset cut through the gaps in the plane trees.

He sighed.

This sigh was not entirely exhaustion.

There was also a kind of almost stubborn fire that had been burning for forty years and hadn't gone out.

"Perhaps that kind of power is simply not something humans can master."

He whispered to himself, his gaze falling on the skyline outside the window.

"But if one day, I can understand it—I will definitely make it save everyone, not just a portion of people. Everyone."