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The internet erupted again.
Many commenters still had little sympathy for most people living with HIV/AIDS.
Even so, Adrian’s achievement was undoubtedly a major leap in biomedical science.
The world’s top pharmaceutical companies had offered him staggering terms.
That alone proved the value of his research.
His breakthrough had pushed biotechnology forward in a single leap.
For more than a century, the country had suffered from falling behind in science and technology.
Across the country, people wanted to see their nation stand beside the world’s leaders in key fields.
Now his research had put them near the front of another field.
How could people not be excited?
By then, Adrian and Evelyn had returned to his home.
With nothing urgent to do, he picked up his phone.
‘An email?’
He paused.
His private inbox had received a message from an unfamiliar address.
For outside contact, he had always used the corporate email account.
Very few people should know this address.
“Prince Khatoum bin Mohammed of Dubai is hosting a birthday banquet for his wife, the princess consort, at the New Harbor Hilton? What is this?”
“Adrian, did you say a Dubai prince?” Evelyn thought for a moment.
“I think I know why he sent you an invitation.”
“Oh?”
“Dubai prohibits people with HIV/AIDS from entering the country, but several years ago there were rumors that a senior member of Dubai’s ruling family was living with HIV/AIDS,” Evelyn said quietly.
“I suspect they want to purchase your treatment.”
He had not expected that.
In theory, people living with HIV/AIDS should not be able to enter their country at all.
A banquet was only a cover.
“Interesting.”
His interest sharpened.
If someone that close to Dubai’s ruling family truly needed the HIV/AIDS treatment, then the situation became much more intriguing.
The system store contained an item called an enslavement chip.
A sample cost ten million dollars.
Once injected into the body, he could detonate it at any time.
If someone at that level used his treatment, that might become useful one day.
As he thought about it, he smiled to himself.
“Adrian, what are you thinking about? Why are you smiling like that?”
A girl ran over as she spoke.
It was his younger sister, Maya.
By the next evening, Adrian left Umbrella by himself and headed to the New Harbor Hilton.
Since it was a banquet hosted by a Dubai prince, everyone inside had a polished air.
He spotted quite a few familiar faces: music stars, film actors, and socialites.
Elegant piano music drifted through the hall as guests gathered in small groups to talk.
He glanced briefly at the guests of honor.
The prince looked handsome enough, and the princess consort beside him was stunning.
The jewelry she wore alone was probably worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
After scanning the room, Adrian casually found a corner and picked up some food.
He was probably the only person at the banquet doing that.
But useless socializing did not interest him.
“Dubai royal pizza. Good stuff.”
“Not bad. Thankfully, they did not add gold leaf.”
“Even without gold leaf, a slice like that is worth more than ten thousand dollars. Watching you eat it like that is painful, Mr. Cross.”
The man smiled, speaking with polished ease.
He did not look pained at all.
“My name is Stilwell Drew.”
Stilwell smiled and extended a hand.
“Adrian Cross.”
He shook his hand lightly.
‘This guy definitely wants something.’
His instincts told him there was more to Stilwell than he showed.
“Mr. Cross, of course I know who you are. I would like to discuss a business deal.”
Stilwell noticed his caution but did not seem to mind.
“What kind of deal? If this is about the formula, it is impossible.”
He lifted an eyebrow, unconcerned.
“I would like to buy a batch of your HIV/AIDS cure and resell it.”
Stilwell took a sip of red wine and spoke calmly.
“A distribution channel?” he asked, puzzled.
Did this man merely want to buy cheap medicine from him?
“No, no, Mr. Cross. You should know that exporting pharmaceuticals requires a complicated approval process. Even if the process starts now, it will take at least several months before the treatment can be officially sold overseas.”
Stilwell smiled.
“I can bypass those procedures and sell a batch to wealthy patients for whom money is no object.”
He understood exactly what Stilwell meant.
Stilwell wanted to obtain the treatment from him, smuggle it abroad, and sell it at a high price to wealthy HIV/AIDS patients.
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