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On the way to the laboratory, Dr.
Hart suddenly began trying to introduce his granddaughter to Adrian.
Along the way, he praised her as if she were a once-in-a-generation beauty.
“Mr. Cross, I’m not bragging. My granddaughter is perfect. I can’t tell you how many old friends’ sons have fallen head over heels for her and asked to marry her. What a joke. How could those boys possibly deserve my precious Hannah?”
Dr.
Hart’s mouth never stopped.
“In my opinion, only a young talent like you is worthy of my Hannah.”
“Speaking of which, you two are alumni. Hannah entered medical school at fifteen and then went straight into the National Academy. Why not find a time to meet? If things go well, I can have her come work at the company directly…”
Evelyn drove with displeasure written all over her face.
How had this old workaholic turned into a matchmaker in an instant?
And why was he praising his granddaughter that much?
It was a little too much.
Evelyn was confident she could hold her own against anyone.
But when she thought about the other woman working at the National Academy, also as a pharmaceutical scientist, with plenty of common topics to share with Adrian, Evelyn grew nervous.
She found herself hoping the woman was an old, ugly research fanatic.
After all, Dr.
Hart himself was not exactly handsome.
Then again, his wife had apparently been beautiful.
“Dr. Hart, the company’s work is the most important thing right now,” Adrian said helplessly.
“As for romance, I don’t have much energy for that at the moment.”
One moment they had been discussing the new drug.
The next, Dr.
Hart had become this.
Besides, looking at the old man’s squash-shaped face, if his granddaughter had inherited more than his interest and talent in biology, then…
Adrian shuddered.
“How much time can dating waste?” Dr.
Hart said stubbornly.
“My wife and I met in the laboratory, and it never affected our work.”
He seemed determined to introduce his granddaughter to Adrian.
“Dr. Hart, the HIV/AIDS treatment is about to go on sale. We still have the National Health Insurance negotiation and the overseas distributors to handle. I also need to recruit a large number of virology researchers, expand the company, hire more technical workers…”
If they counted everything, Adrian had far too much to do.
Umbrella currently produced only one drug.
Its laboratory researchers were decent, but they were still far from what he expected.
The company had not even begun to resemble the Umbrella he envisioned.
In the future, Umbrella would be composed of three major divisions.
Each would have a clear function, but all three would be connected.
The system had to be complete, efficient, and indispensable.
Red Umbrella.
Blue Umbrella.
White Umbrella.
Red Umbrella would be the company’s paramilitary division, responsible for building armed forces to provide corporate security and for developing and managing supercomputers.
Blue Umbrella would handle pharmaceutical and reagent research.
After those two divisions were established, White Umbrella would be built as the biological research and B.O.W.
development arm.
“Those things can be done slowly. What are you worried about?” Dr.
Hart said.
“I can call in dozens of researchers and hundreds of technical workers with a single phone call. Just tell me when you need them.”
Adrian looked at him in surprise.
“You have been with the company for more than ten years, and you still know that many people outside? You should know that before long, we will definitely mass-produce over-the-counter drugs. We will need a lot of workers.”
For any pharmaceutical company, over-the-counter drugs were essential.
The Umbrella Corporation Adrian remembered had three mainstream products.
Adravil, an ibuprofen-based painkiller.
Safsprin, an aspirin-based medication.
And its best-selling public product, Aqua Cure, an ointment for open wounds.
Once the money from the HIV/AIDS treatment came in, Adrian would definitely mass-produce products of that type.
He was confident they would crush similar drugs.
When that happened, Umbrella products would rapidly cover the globe.
“I’m already this old. Would I trick you?” Dr.
Hart said.
“Mr. Cross, as long as you agree to go on a blind date with my granddaughter, I can call in dozens of researchers and hundreds of technical workers within minutes.”
The moment he said it, Evelyn’s expression turned ugly.
How had this suddenly become a blind date?
Adrian stared at Dr.
Hart in shock.
Was the old man that afraid his granddaughter would never marry?
A moment ago, he had only wanted to introduce them.
Now it had become a blind date.
And he was using this as a condition to pressure his own boss into meeting her?
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