American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

Chapter 251: Chapter 155: Pharmaceutical Complex

The words hit Lawrence like a physical blow, making him see stars.

"I understand..." Lawrence gritted his teeth. He stood and led the other veterans out of the office, their heads hung in shame.

...

"Fack!" Lawrence violently kicked over a nearby folding chair, his massive frame like that of a thoroughly enraged beast. "Who the hell does he think he is?! Some yellow-skinned monkey who’s never played a single official NFL game, riding the owner’s favoritism and his media hype, thinks he can just shit all over us? Telling us veterans to go warm the bench?!"

"I’m not about to let some yellow-skinned monkey lead us or tell us what to do," he said, sitting back down. "That kid with the last name Li thinks he’s invincible, doesn’t he? Thinks he doesn’t have to respect the vets? Fine. He has his red jersey and the refs protecting him at practice, so we’ll just have to teach him a lesson during a game."

"But Dabor said for the preseason..."

"That’s exactly why it has to be the preseason!" Lawrence cut his teammate off. "Those money-grubbing pussies on the starting O-line might’ve been bought off, but in the second half of a preseason game, they swap in the rookies on the backup O-line. It’ll be chaotic. Those greenhorn linemen won’t know the plays. A little ’miscommunication,’ a ’missed assignment’... perfectly normal, wouldn’t you say?"

Lawrence clenched his fists, his knuckles CRACKING. "Come preseason, I’m going to show him what it feels like to face an entire army on the pass rush all by himself. I want to see if his bones are as hard as his talk when a couple hundred pounds of meat comes crashing into him!"

"He really thinks he’s Captain America," another player chimed in. "Let’s see him spend a few days in the hospital first."

...

Back in the office, Dabor watched the defensive players leave and shook his head. He turned to Mara. "Boss, I’m heading to the practice field. We still need to test a few new schemes in today’s walkthrough."

Mara nodded, watching Dabor go.

Quiet returned to the office, but it didn’t last long. The internal line on his desk began to ring.

"Mr. Mara," came his secretary’s professional voice, "Mr. David Sterling, Senior Vice President of the Eli Lilly Group, has arrived."

Mara took a small box of medication from his desk drawer. He placed a few pills in his mouth, washed them down with his coffee, and straightened his tie. "Send him in."

A middle-aged man walked in. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and had a sophisticated air, yet there was a cold, hard edge to his demeanor.

"Good morning, Mr. Mara." Sterling smiled and extended a hand. "It’s been a while. Your spirits seem as high as ever."

"I’m always happy to see you, Mr. Sterling," Mara said, shaking his hand and gesturing for him to take a seat on the sofa. "What can I do for you today?"

"I’m here today to follow up on our previous conversation about a partnership between the Eli Lilly Group and the Giants," Sterling said with a smile. "As you know, Eli Lilly has always been very interested in developing new drugs for concussions and sports-related injuries. That’s why we’ve been so keen to establish a partnership with the football league."

John Mara listened, then leaned back in his large leather chair. He steepled his fingers in front of him, his deep-set eyes studying the man before him through the steam rising from his coffee.

"Mr. Sterling," Mara began slowly, "the Eli Lilly Group is one of the top ten pharmaceutical giants in the world. You command a massive empire worth hundreds of billions of USD. Your antidepressants, metabolic steroids, and neurological drugs have a virtual monopoly on the high-end medical market across North America. So when a behemoth like you suddenly stoops to come and tell me you want to ’sponsor and partner on sports injury research,’ you’ll have to forgive the suspicions of a seventy-year-old man with cancer."

David Sterling’s smile remained impeccable. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. "You’re not wrong, Mr. Mara. We are here because we want to establish a partnership with the NFL."

"We need to acquire players’ physiological metrics, blood samples, and data on their neurological recovery after they sustain high-intensity physical collisions—especially cerebral neurological data," he said. "As you know, Eli Lilly’s next major target is Alzheimer’s disease. To make progress, we require vast amounts of research data and samples."

"In exchange," he paused, "the Eli Lilly Group will not only provide the Giants with a world-class medical and rehabilitation team, but we will also offer a sponsorship contract worth 20 million USD."

"That certainly sounds like a difficult offer to refuse," Mara remarked. "However, I must decline."

Sterling’s eyebrow twitched. "If it’s a matter of the contract amount, I’m sure we can continue negotiations—"

"No. It’s because of my current situation, and the league’s red lines," Mara said, shaking his head. "The NFL Players’ Association would never allow it. The moment the Giants set that precedent, we’d be in the eye of the storm. The new president’s platform was built on labor rights. You want me to pull a stunt like this just six months into his term? He may be the oldest president we’ve ever had, but he’s not senile. Congress and the FBI would launch investigations. The Maras would risk losing control of the team over this. I can’t do it."

Sterling fell silent for a moment, appearing to weigh Mara’s words. Then, with a soft sigh, he slowly rose to his feet and adjusted his suit jacket.

"I completely understand your position, Mr. Mara," he said, taking a business card from his pocket and placing it on the desk. "I hope the Giants have a successful season. I’ll be betting on you to win the Super Bowl. And if you should change your mind, please don’t hesitate to contact me. The Eli Lilly Group is very sincere about its desire to partner with the NFL Alliance."

With that, Sterling gave a slight nod, turned, and left the office.

Outside the training facility, Sterling climbed into a black Mercedes S600 parked by the curb.

"Yes... Sterling here," he said into his phone. "Mr. John Mara seems to be on high alert... Yes, what phase is our targeted therapy in?... Mmm... good."

After hanging up, he instructed the driver to pull away, and the car slowly departed from New Jersey.

Watching the scenery recede outside the window, David Sterling was lost in thought.

’Partnering with the NFL Alliance through the Giants is something Eli Lilly has wanted for a long time. There’s no need to rush.’

’Besides, John Mara himself is a very sick man.’

’In a few years, Eli Lilly might even be able to use John Mara’s illness as an entry point to partner with the NFL. Then we’d have a massive amount of data to analyze and study.’

’Li Wei, Mahomes, Dexter Lawrence... we could get data on all of them.’

’And if the Eli Lilly Group can secure an official partnership with the NFL, it would be a huge feather in my cap. A promotion to Global VP, a seat on the board... it would all be within reach.’

’However—’

Sterling took out his phone again. He still had to deal with the situation in Utah; there were some loose ends connected to Eli Lilly that required his attention.