Chapter 270: Grand Slam (8)

Chapter 270: Grand Slam (8)

The Lofair family had spread across the globe over the past two hundred years, resulting in a large and complex family tree. But even in the absence of Judaism, there was always one adult in every family who had the biggest say because they held financial power.

This position—the head of the family—was now held by Alphonse. He was the oldest in the Lofair family, and he was the owner of the Lofair mansion in Washington, D.C., which had been in his family since his great-great-grandfather.

Though he wasn’t an investor, Alphonse controlled the vast financial assets that dated back to the days when the family ran the Bank of Amsterdam. Of course, he hired professionals to manage those assets, and most of the important business was handled in consultation with his talented younger brothers.

Today was no different.

“Is something bothering you?” asked Tate Lofair, the chairman of Chenover Financial Holding.

Alphonse didn’t answer. He was deep in thought, drinking a glass of wine.

“When Alphonse is frowning like that, it’s either because you don’t like the wine or something’s wrong at work,” said Kimber Lofair.

“The wine is fine,” Alphonse said.

“Then it’s work,” Tate said. “Alphonse, you’re going to go to the White House soon, right? You were bragging that you’re going to pester President Campbell from right beside him.”

“Well, I was going to do an important project at NASA before I went. I was going to collect some microorganisms living on the outer walls of the spacecraft and give them to Doctor Ryu and Doctor Song to develop a new decontaminant for removing radioactivity.”

Alphonse clicked his tongue.

“But why did she quit all of a sudden?”

“Quit?” Kimber asked.

“Doctor Song. We were about to sign the contract, but she suddenly backed out, saying she needed to talk to their CEO from here on out,” Alphonse said like he didn’t understand.

“She’s a Nobel Prize candidate. No one knows the name of the CEO of Cellijenner, but everyone knows Doctor Song Ji-Hyun. She’s one of the up-and-coming young scientists whose reputation is rising alongside Doctor Ryu. But someone like her came all the way to the United States without a guideline on how to draft a contract? When she’s meeting with me?”

“Well, it’s strange, but should you be that worried?” Kimber asked.

“What bothers me is that it was right after she got a call from Ryu Young-Joon.”

Alphonse massaged his head with his fingers.

“Come to think of it, I heard some news about Doctor Ryu through the reporters,” Tate said.

“What news?”

“Not much, just that there are teams working on neural therapy and tissue regeneration using stem cells at A-GenBio’s Laboratory Seven. Apparently, they are creating a task force.”

“A task force?”

Alphonse tilted his head, confused.

“A task force for what?”

“I don’t know the details. It’s not like we planted spies at A-GenBio or anything. We don’t even know what exactly Mr. Ryu’s instructions were. They say it’s a task force, but it’s just reporters making up a story based on a rumor that a bunch of technicians are being volunteered and transferred from each department to redraw the organizational chart.”

“Hm.”

Alphonse took a sip of his wine.

“Is Doctor Ryu still in Washington?”

“I think so, but he bought a plane ticket. I think he’s leaving soon,” Kimber said.

“He bought a plane ticket?”

“As such, from now on, A-GenBio and the Next Generation Hospital would like to discuss with the government or local authorities and travel to the area to provide medical services. All necessary equipment and pharmaceuticals will be brought directly by A-GenBio using a cold chain, and we promise to cure more than eighty percent of the incurable patients in any area we visit.”

Kim Young-Hoon’s declaration quickly spread around the world through various media outlets.

‘A-GenBio commercialized treatment itself.’

This was like a powerful mercenary group that went wherever it was called in the war against disease, bringing victory. Who could have imagined such a thing? They would negotiate with various countries in advance, visit them, stay for several months, and then leave after completely resolving all the region's incurable diseases.

“This trip to Nicaragua will be the pilot test,” Kim Young-Hoon announced.

The reporters began asking questions.

—Nicaragua is a little unfamiliar to Korea. Why did you choose Nicaragua?

As if he’d been waiting for this question, Kim Young-Hoon gave a quick answer, which hinted at other things.

“Nicaragua has a large number of patients with congenital deformities or genetic neurological disease. It is seven times higher than Honduras, its neighbor,” Kim Young-Hoon said.

“Normally, with such a high incidence of genetic disorders, we would expect to see significant radiation contamination. But Nicaragua is far away from the Nevada Test Site in the U.S., and it’s quite a distance from New Mexico, where the Manhattan Project was conducted. It’s also not like there’s been a nuclear power plant accident or anything.”

Kim Young-Hoon presented the symbol of A-GenBio’s Laboratory Seven on the screen.

“A-GenBio is not just treating patients. We are also a healthcare and disease control organization that prevents diseases from occurring in the first place. As such, Nicaragua has a lot of research value to us.”

*

“Why Nicaragua?” Song Ji-Hyun asked on the way to the airport.

“You heard Director Kim’s announcement,” Young-Joon said.

“I’m asking because I thought you might know why Nicaragua has so many deformities and genetic diseases.”

Young-Joon nodded.

“I’ll give you a hint. Most of these patients were born before 1986, and they are orphans. In Nicaragua, the U.S.-backed Somoza government and the Sandinista rebels kept fighting during the Cold War. After the regime change, the Sandinista government and the Contra rebels started fighting. It’s understandable why there are so many orphans, but...” Young-Joon said. “Isn’t it strange that the frequency of genetic diseases is concentrated before 1986?”

“Did someone secretly conduct a nuclear test or something?” Song Ji-Hyun asked with a serious expression.

“No. On paper, those babies were all born in hospitals in safe areas with no risk of radioactive contamination,” Young-Joon said.

The embryology laboratory in the Groom Lake Air Force Base was creating genetically engineered babies for eighteen years. Some babies have died in failed experiments, but others have survived with disabilities, which was the problem.

They couldn’t raise them in a facility like the lab, but it was difficult to kill them. It didn’t matter after the Cold War ended as the idea was to get rid of the institute itself, but not in the two decades before that. When Doctor Ref was born, Alphonse Lofair intended to make her elite, and for that to happen, the laboratory at Groom Lake couldn’t be an evil criminal organization.

What if the scandal broke after Doctor Ref entered society? “At that time, there was no such thing as research ethics, and we did these things out of patriotism. The children born with defects were raised in orphanages,” was vastly different from saying “We killed all those babies.” The former was a lapse in research ethics and a tragedy born out of the Cold War, but the latter was a grave felony: infanticide.

Burdened by this, Alphonse had buried the surviving failures of the lab within the history of the Nicaraguan Civil War for eighteen years. It wasn’t difficult to do this, as the mothers often died in most cases involving babies with severe genetic disorders. No one noticed, and there was no evidence. All the documents were perfect.

But when Young-Joon saw the number of people with genetic disorders in Nicaragua, their age range, and the common denominator of an orphanage, he realized the situation at once.

“Doctor Song, you know...” Young-Joon said.

“Pardon?”

“DNA is the world’s most powerful information storage device. One gram of DNA contains a petabyte of information.”

“...”

“And if you do something to it, it always leaves behind evidence.”