Lone Cultivator In Another World

The next day, Michael gathered everyone to meet each other. A motley company, they made their way to Old Zhao's lab.

There was Gregory Almond who was actively pushing his son Tyler to pass the bar back in America and come to Switzerland for work.

Buddy Earl walked beside him, his fingers in a nervous dance. Buddy had been waiting to see his new lab and team for two days now, and Michael finally had time to introduce them.

Dimitri and Alex were engaged in one of their standard disputes, never agreeing on anything. Their cooperation proved fruitful for project Striptease, so they had to tolerate one another. Underneath that exterior, of course, they both hid respect for a worthy rival.

Michael listened to their banter with a smile. These four – they were his people, the ones to ensure his success. In return, he offered them recognition and fame. Their potential combined with his foresight – the possibilities were endless.

When they arrived at the laboratory, Zhao was standing there with his back straight. Over the last few months, the old man got used to ordering people around, so he wasn't too anxious to cede authority to some young upstart like Buddy. Behind Zhao's back, Anna was waving sheepishly, well aware of her teacher's attitude.

It was Friday, so there were one or two days left until Michael promised to heal her mom. The girl was in great mood and filled with gratitude.

"As a Russian song goes, 'How wonderful that all of us have gathered here today'. I suggest we go inside. Old Zhao, please lead the way."

"Ten million," the old Chinese retorted.

Alex and Dimitri exchanged glances, as did Buddy and Greg. What was this man talking about?

"Team with the best results. You promised ten million! Where are they? Not in my bank account!" Zhao barked in his broken English.

Michael scratched his nose bridge, "I remember. You'll get your grant. Can we please do this later? I don't have all day."

With a huff, Zhao turned and opened the door. Everyone shuffled into the lab and soon entered a large room filled with equipment. Two dozen Chinese scientists greeted them enthusiastically. Unlike Zhao, they were looking forward to continuing the research.

"Good afternoon!" Michael took a step forward. "I won't talk much. My goal here today is to explain my vision for the medicine that will cure cancer once and for all!"

He waved his hands to calm down the excited scientists and gestured at Buddy, "This is Buddy Earl, a very gifted microbiologist from America. Some of you may be unhappy that he is replacing Old Zhao as the team leader, so let me explain. But first – have you all signed NDAs?"

Auntie Wu, a middle-aged woman who was good friends with Anna, gave Michael a stack of papers. They were non-disclosure agreements that prohibited the scientists from leaking information.

Greg snatched the papers, gave them a quick once-over and nodded. He had been the one to draft them, after all.

"Great. Let's remember how it began. First, I came up with a formula that binds itself with cancerous cells, and Zhao created it for me. Then we invited you here to work on step two, delivering the formula to the tumor using gene targeting. Of all the labs in the world, you have shown the best results. Your bonuses will arrive shortly. Exceptional work, ladies and gentlemen!"

The room drowned in applause. Even Dimitri and Greg, the ones who weren't invested in the process, clapped together with everyone.

"Let me tell you about the final part of our journey. This time, we're doing it on the down-low, because this – this belongs only to us! Nobody else! You will divide into two teams. The smaller one will be headed by Old Zhao, to complete the delivery of the formula to the tumor. Everything we've done so far has been to bind the formula with cancerous cells. What's left is to destroy them!"

Michael took in the faces in the room. They'd forgotten how to breathe, their eyes following his every movement. The teenager was sure they had plenty of theories on how they were going to proceed, but none of them were correct.

When Buddy produced the cure in another world, he was forty years old. Here, he was approaching thirty. This world's science also wasn't quite there yet.

Still, with Michael's insights, they were destined to succeed.

"Buddy is a microbiologist, and that's who we'll need for our last step. The larger group led by him will create an artificial bacteria that will feed on the formula. When injected into a patient, it will seek out food and consume it together with cancerous cells, because they've been bound together. After they're left with nothing to eat, the bacteria will die off in a few days. With the root cause for cancer destroyed, the body will stabilize itself. There'll be no need for further treatment. Disease, gone."

The scientists stayed silent for a minute until Buddy spoke up, chewing on his lips, "Wow, boss. I'm not sure I can do that."

Someone exclaimed, "Artificial bacteria!? Isn't that mostly theoretical?"

"It's not," Michael shook his head, "And with Buddy's help, North Medical will use them to treat more diseases in the future."

But his words couldn't persuade the older crowd. They were worried the young millionaire was chasing a pipe dream. The whispers and murmurs grew louder until a bold voice interrupted them.

"Michael, amazing! What are you afraid of, uncles and aunties? Everything we've done here was according to his plan, right? Let's believe in Michael one more time!"

The cultivator threw a gentle smile at the young woman. Despite his money and achievements, Anna held greater sway over the Chinese scientists. After months of apprenticeship at the lab and living without a parental figure, with her resolve hardened after the attempted robbery, Anna showed hints of the person Michael was grooming her into.

Why was Buddy the temporary president of North Medical? Because Anna was fifteen! No other reason.

Hearing their little mascot defend Michael, the scientists sighed but accepted his ambitious plan.

Seeing that the matter was settled, Michael left Buddy to socialize and left with Dimitri, Alex and Greg after nodding at Anna. The girl grinned in return, happy to be of help to the boy she liked.

When they left the lab, Michael adopted a concerned tone, "Now, about our shortcomings. I've made North Med and Lingua well-known, but the companies' state… Greg?"

"All companies technically operate out of Mr. North's apartment so far. Even with the government's assistance, it won't be long until legal problems mount."

Alex added, taking notes with a smartphone, "North Lingua is unprepared for the influx of users we've seen, and we've had to delay payments. We need to hire people: linguists, programmers, support staff. Remember when I told you we'd need an office and a call-center? It's time."

"Well, set it up! Any day without you is a more productive day for me!" Dimitri put his hands in his jean pockets.

"Enough!" Michael stopped, forcing the three men to halt as well. "Greg, please hurry up your lawyers. They need to pass the test sooner, it's all hands on deck here. Alex, I trust you to set a date for recruitment. You'll be responsible for the process. Got it? You're free to go."

They nodded and left.

Dimitri lifted an eyebrow and smirked, "And now, the most important part?"

"Yes. Alex figured out what project Striptease can mean for us in the long run. Has he talked to you about it?"

"Uh-huh."

"And what are your thoughts?"

"Honestly?" Dimitri grabbed his crotch, "If your plans are what I think they are, it kinda gets me hard!"

If Alex was here, he'd roll his eyes at the programmer's antics.

Michael laughed, "Games and DestiniGo. Then, the language app. Then, sky's the limit!"

"So hard!" Dimitri m.o.a.n.e.d, grinning.

It was a sunny day, not a cloud in sight. The press-release had been a success. Michael's glory points climbed into tens of millions. Everything was going fine.

That's when Vladimir Severniy received a call from Kamyshov.