23: Chapter 23 Seriously? Hollywood actresses are lining up to buy medicine too?

"Beep—" The call ended.

Chen Yuan tossed his phone onto the desk. It slid across the smooth mahogany surface, colliding with the humidor filled with Cuban cigars.

He leaned back, burying himself into the soft leather executive chair.

A faint scent of blood still lingered in the office, the aftermath of that "morning meeting" from earlier.

But at this moment, Chen Yuan felt the air had changed.

It was a sweeter, more restless, yet maddening scent. The scent of money.

"Boss!" The office door was slammed open.

Victor rushed in. This former intelligence dealer, who usually prided himself on having seen it all, was now running like a cat with its tail stepped on, the fat on his face trembling with his rapid breathing.

His floral shirt was soaked with sweat, and the walkie-talkie in his hand was still crackling.

"They're crazy! Everyone's gone crazy!"

Victor rushed to the window, yanked open the blinds, and pointed downstairs, shouting, "Look! Our front gate is about to be blocked off!"

Chen Yuan raised an eyebrow and walked to the window unhurriedly.

Through the bulletproof glass, he saw a ridiculous scene.

The dusty entrance of the Pharmaceutical Factory, usually only accessed by freight trucks, was now packed with luxury cars.

Stretched Lincolns, Rolls-Royce Phantoms, and even two flashy pink Lamborghinis. These steel beasts, which should only appear in front of Beverly Hills mansions or top-tier hotels in Manhattan, were now awkwardly squeezed onto the pothole-ridden dirt road of San Verde, their undercarriages scraping and screeching.

Surrounding the luxury cars was a group of paparazzi armed with long lenses and cameras.

They were like vultures smelling rotting meat, their telephoto lenses practically shoved into the gaps of the iron gate, flashes going off in a continuous stream, lighting up the dim factory grounds like daylight.

"What's going on?" Chen Yuan watched this magical realist scene, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It's Lady Mary!" Victor wiped the oily sweat from his forehead, his tone filled with shock and ecstasy, "Last night was real! That 'medicine' you gave her—the effect was explosive!"

"According to my informants in the socialite circle, Lady Mary attended a charity brunch this morning. As soon as she appeared, every woman in the room went crazy!"

Victor gestured exaggeratedly, "Her skin was as tight as a peeled egg, the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes had vanished, and even that sagging... ahem, anyway, she looked at least fifteen years younger!"

"Now the entire San Verde, no, the entire West Coast socialite circle is whispering that you hold the key to the 'Fountain of Youth'!"

Chen Yuan smiled. The results were indeed even better than expected.

The system's [Primary Beauty Pill], while only a low-end product, contained trace amounts of cell repair technology and a potent hallucinogen. For women who relied on hyaluronic acid and Botox to maintain their youth for years, this was nothing short of a miracle.

"Boss, the people at the gate are waving their checkbooks, demanding to see you." Victor swallowed hard, "Some are even offering five hundred thousand dollars just to book a meeting. Should we... see them?"

"Five hundred thousand?" Chen Yuan shook his head dismissively and walked back to his desk, "Too little. Let them soak up some sun outside and cool off."

"But..." Victor hesitated, "There's one person we might have to see."

"Who?" "Jessica."

Victor's voice lowered, tinged with a hint of awe, "The one from Hollywood. She just won the Oscar as the best actress winner, the dream lover of men worldwide."

Chen Yuan paused. Jessica. That top star known as "God's Masterpiece," the woman with an angelic face and a devilish figure?

"She came in person?" "She's downstairs right now." Victor pointed down, "She arrived in a bulletproof minivan, brought four bodyguards, and a legal team ready to sue us at any moment."

Chen Yuan rubbed his chin. This was interesting. The gangsters had just left, and now the actress had arrived. This little Pharmaceutical Factory was certainly getting livelier.

"Send her up." Chen Yuan adjusted his collar, sat back in his chair, and resumed his cold, distant demeanor, "But tell her bodyguards, if they dare bring weapons in, I'll have the Tyrant stuff them into the sewer."

... Five minutes later. The sound of high heels clicking against the floor echoed in the hallway.

The sound was rhythmic, hurried, and forceful, carrying the arrogance of someone accustomed to being adored by thousands.

The door opened. Two bodyguards in black suits and sunglasses entered first. They scanned the office vigilantly, their eyes lingering for a second on the bullet-riddled globe in the corner, revealing a trace of disdain.

Following them, the main act appeared. Jessica was wearing dark oversized sunglasses that covered half her face, a Hermès silk scarf wrapped around her head, and a trench coat that looked incredibly expensive.

As soon as she entered, she exaggeratedly raised her hand to fan the air in front of her nose.

"God, what is this smell?" Her voice was beautiful, with its signature magnetic quality, but now it was full of revulsion, "Rust, moldy wood... and a whiff of cheap disinfectant. Victor, are you sure this is a Pharmaceutical Factory and not some illegal underground slaughterhouse?"

She didn't even glance at Chen Yuan, as if the owner of this office were nothing more than an insignificant janitor.

Victor offered an awkward, apologetic smile: "Miss Jessica, this is an industrial zone, the conditions are simple..."

"That's enough." Jessica interrupted him impatiently.

She took off her sunglasses, revealing a face that was truly perfect. Her skin was fair, her features exquisite, and her azure eyes were full of arrogance. Although she was only in her early twenties, her bossy aura was clearly the result of being long spoiled by capital and fans.

She finally cast her gaze toward Chen Yuan, who was sitting behind the desk. She looked him up and down.

"You're that Chen?" Jessica walked to the desk but didn't sit down. She disliked the dust on the guest chair.

"You're not bad-looking, no wonder that old woman Mary was so infatuated with you."

She pulled a gold checkbook holder out of her Hermès bag, her tone nonchalant, "I won't waste time on small talk. I have a very important red carpet to walk tonight, and I want to be the most dazzling one there."

"Give me a bottle of that medicine you gave Mary." "Now."

Her tone was that of someone taking it for granted, as if she weren't begging for medicine, but granting Chen Yuan the opportunity to serve her.

Chen Yuan didn't speak. He just watched the arrogant starlet quietly, spinning his fountain pen. She was truly beautiful. But her brain really didn't work that well.

"Can't you understand English?" Seeing Chen Yuan's lack of reaction, Jessica frowned. She tore a pre-signed check from her checkbook holder, held it between two fingers, and flicked it lightly onto the desk in front of Chen Yuan.

"Slap." The check slid across the desk and stopped by Chen Yuan's hand. The number on it was long, followed by six zeros.

"One million dollars." Jessica lifted her chin, revealing her long, swan-like neck, and a confident smile curled at the corners of her mouth, "This money should be enough to buy this broken factory of yours, right? Take the money, give me the medicine, and shut up. I don't want to see any news about me being here in the papers tomorrow."

The air suddenly went quiet. Victor, standing to the side, stared at the check, his eyes nearly popping out. One million! Just for one pill! This was practically highway robbery!

He desperately signaled to Chen Yuan: Boss, agree to it! This is a Hollywood best actress winner! If we get on her good side, our product can go straight out of this world!

However, Chen Yuan merely glanced at the check indifferently. Then, he extended a finger and pressed down on one corner of the check.

The smile on Jessica's face grew wider. As expected, no man could refuse her, and certainly no poor person could refuse one million dollars.

"Not enough?" She laughed scornfully, "I can add more..."

"Swish—" With a soft sound. Chen Yuan's finger slid lightly, and the million-dollar check was pushed to the edge of the desk, then, like a piece of scrap paper, it floated down into the trash can at his feet.

Jessica's smile froze on her face. She looked at the trash can in disbelief, then looked up at Chen Yuan, as if she were looking at a madman.

"You... are you crazy? That was one million!"

"I know." Chen Yuan finally spoke. His voice was calm, yet carried a coldness even more arrogant than Jessica's. He didn't even look up at her, instead picking up a document again and lowering his head to read.

"Miss Jessica, it seems your agent hasn't taught you the most basic manners." Chen Yuan said nonchalantly while looking at the document:

"This is San Verde, not Hollywood." "Here, dollars are indeed hard currency. But some things are more expensive than dollars."

He looked up, his pitch-black eyes like a bottomless pool of cold water, instantly extinguishing all of Jessica's arrogance.

"Want to buy my medicine?" Chen Yuan pointed out the window, at the wealthy people braving the scorching sun, clutching their money, but only able to wait eagerly at the front gate. "Turn left out the door." "Go join the queue."