A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook-Chapter 144

The moment Ha Si-heon uttered the word "favor," Pierce's entire body stiffened.

It was an instinctive defense mechanism he had developed over the past year.

Si-heon's requests were always a harbinger of disaster.

However, Pierce soon suppressed his instincts with reason.

‘This could also… be an opportunity.’

There was only one reason Pierce had kept Ha Si-heon by his side.

The benefits he gained from him always outweighed the risks.

Although he often felt like he was going insane whenever trouble arose, Pierce had reaped considerable gains thanks to Si-heon.

Through an internal bet, he had subdued his rival, Rhino.

The Epicura incident had secured him an executive position.

And in the Theranos scandal, he had elevated Goldman’s reputation and solidified his own standing.

Strictly speaking, he was the VIP passenger on the runaway train that was Ha Si-heon.

And yet, there was one reason his instincts still warned him to be wary.

Everything Si-heon had accomplished so far had always been a precarious tightrope walk.

And now, that very Ha Si-heon was scheming something again.

Pierce spoke, maintaining a composed facade.

"A favor, huh? I can’t promise anything, but let’s hear it."

Si-heon then stated his request.

"I need capital."

Capital?

Surprisingly, it was a rather ordinary request for Si-heon.

After all, securing funds was a natural step for a newly established fund.

And yet… something about it didn’t sit right.

"Someone like you shouldn’t need my help for that."

Si-heon had already secured a significant position.

His fame from the Theranos case, his heavyweight connections with Kissinger, and the success of the Genesis incident had all drawn the media spotlight, attracting investors' attention.

Raising capital shouldn't be difficult with that alone.

"Aren’t you already overflowing with funds compared to typical hedge funds? I hear that those who hesitated to invest in Theranos are now scrambling to invest in you."

That alone amounted to nearly $5 billion.

Considering that a typical new hedge fund’s AUM (Assets Under Management) ranged from $50 million to $200 million, this was already an incredible start.

But Si-heon was never one to be satisfied.

The way he was smiling as he made this request said it all.

"The more capital, the better. More importantly, I believe it's ideal to attract a ‘diverse' pool of investors."

"Diverse investors, huh…"

Pierce now clearly understood what Si-heon wanted.

He was seeking investors that even his high profile and Kissinger connections couldn’t easily secure.

For example…

"You’re aiming for pension funds, aren’t you?"

"I’d like an introduction, if you don’t mind."

Si-heon nodded calmly in acknowledgment.

Pension funds referred to public funds like the National Pension, Private School Pension, and Civil Service Pension.

Managing tens to hundreds of billions of dollars, they were financial giants.

It was only natural that Si-heon would covet them.

But Pierce let out a deep sigh.

"That won’t be easy. I can introduce you, but… the chances of success are slim. Pension funds rarely invest in newly launched hedge funds."

Pension funds primarily manage retirement savings for retirees and the elderly.

As such, they prioritize stability and impose exceptionally strict standards when considering hedge fund investments.

"When pension funds invest in hedge funds, they typically review the past three years of performance. A new fund with no track record at all won’t even be considered."

"I've heard that sometimes they make seed investments, though."

That was true.

Although rare, pension funds occasionally provided seed capital to new hedge funds.

Si-heon continued.

"Given the recent Theranos case, they might be watching with interest."

That wasn’t an unreasonable assumption.

The clean and transparent image Si-heon had gained from the Theranos case would indeed make it easier to secure investments from institutions like pension funds.

However, after hearing him out, Pierce shook his head.

"It could be a plus, but I doubt they’d recognize it as a solid track record. Even if they do invest in you, they’ll likely require additional verification."

"You mean I’d have to go through some sort of audition."

"Precisely."

"In that case, I’ll handle the audition myself. I only ask that you set up the meeting."

In other words, all he wanted was for Pierce to open the door.

The pitching would be Si-heon’s responsibility, and the final decision would be up to the pension fund.

‘It’s not a particularly difficult request…’

However, simply granting Si-heon’s request without any benefit in return didn’t sit well with Pierce.

A true intermediary couldn’t just arrange meetings and step aside.

He had to thoroughly grasp the intentions of both parties and leverage that information to enhance his own value.

With that in mind, Pierce decided to probe Si-heon’s motives further.

"Since you've declared yourself an activist fund, your first investment target is crucial."

If pension funds later had questions about Si-heon, Pierce needed to be able to answer them convincingly.

"With all eyes on you, you absolutely must win your first battle."

Since Si-heon had gained such high visibility from the Theranos case, people naturally expected him to perform at the same level.

But this heightened attention was a double-edged sword.

If he were to lose his first major battle under such scrutiny…

‘Forget being an activist fund, he’d struggle to recover at all.’

This meant that Si-heon’s first target had to be a battle he was guaranteed to win.

However—

"I’m well aware."

Si-heon simply smiled quietly.

Pierce could now tell just by looking at his expression.

"You’ve already chosen your next target. Are you confident?"

"Not quite. I’m considering multiple options."

He had chosen a target but wasn’t willing to disclose it to Pierce.

Pierce made his stance clear. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

"I can’t introduce you without any information."

Pierce met Si-heon’s gaze with firm resolve.

This was the ‘cost' of the introduction.

No information, no meeting.

"How much are you preparing for your first bullet?"

Pierce pressed further.

This was a crucial question.

Knowing the scale of the capital he planned to deploy would give insight into the magnitude of the event.

Si-heon hesitated for a moment, seemingly debating whether to answer.

Then, at last, he spoke.

"I’m thinking around $3 billion."

For a moment, Pierce's mind went blank.

The standard strategy for an activist hedge fund was to secure a 5% stake.

Thus, knowing the capital being deployed provided a rough estimate of the target’s size.

But $3 billion?

During the Epicura case, Shark Capital had deployed about $500 million.

So if Si-heon was preparing $3 billion…

That meant, purely arithmetically, that his first target was six times the size of Epicura.

"Isn't it normal… to start with small-cap stocks?"

Pierce barely managed to keep his voice steady.

For an untested hedge fund with no track record, it was standard practice to start with smaller, easier targets and gradually build credibility.

Without sufficient experience or previous victories, jumping in with $3 billion was reckless.

Yet, when Pierce pointed this out, Si-heon simply nodded.

"Yes, I’m aware."

He knew?

Only one word came to mind.

‘Madman!’

But saying it out loud would be pointless.

This was a man who wouldn’t listen even if warned.

At this point, the only thing Pierce could do was use this information to his advantage.

At least now, he understood that Si-heon’s target was something massive.

Next, he needed to determine the approximate timing.

"Shall we gather those who might be interested and set up a meeting?"

"When would be a good time?"

"Ah, well… it’s a bit urgent."

"Urgent…?"

Pierce tilted his head in confusion.

"Haven’t you just started fundraising?"

Typically, hedge funds have a designated period for raising capital.

This period, called the subscription period or offering period, is when funds are accepted, and once it ends, no additional capital is taken in.

There were occasional exceptions, but those complicated return calculations, so most funds preferred to raise capital only during this designated period.

For a new fund, that fundraising period was usually between six months to a year.

Given Si-heon’s reputation, it might be shortened to a few months…

But then, what came out of his mouth was beyond belief.

"I plan to close the fundraising within six weeks."

***

The moment the meeting with Pierce ended, a wave of exhaustion washed over me.

He had spent an endless amount of time lecturing me about how unrealistic the six-week deadline was.

But—

‘As if I don’t already know that.’

I was doing this because I had to.

‘I need to start Phase 1 clinical trials as soon as possible.’

The urgency was all because of Russian Roulette.

I had already secured the 50 patients needed for the trial.

As soon as the funds were in place, we could begin clinical trials by the end of September.

The problem was that in order to initiate the trials, my fund had to invest in RP Solutions.

And to make that investment, I had to complete fundraising first.

That’s why the deadline was six weeks.

‘It’s rushed, but there’s no other choice.’

There was still a lot to do before then.

I had to collect the funds that had been verbally promised and recruit staff to work at the fund.

That’s also why I stopped by Goldman.

After leaving Pierce’s office, I went around to different departments, meeting with my informal investors and making an announcement.

"We will only manage the investments we’ve already made and then close operations."

I informed them that my underground fund would be shutting down by the end of the year.

"However, if any of you wish to invest in my new fund, I’m willing to offer slightly relaxed conditions to Goldman seniors."

I even promoted investor recruitment within Goldman.

Becoming a hedge fund investor required meeting certain conditions.

I had initially set the minimum investment at $1 million—about 1.3 billion KRW.

But even though Goldman employees had high salaries, $1 million was still a substantial amount to put into a single investment.

For ordinary associates, it could be too much of a burden.

So, I decided to lower the threshold to $500,000 exclusively for Goldman employees.

This wasn’t so much about securing funds—it was more about credibility.

If my former colleagues at Goldman weren’t investing while other investors were jumping in eagerly, people might find it suspicious.

After making sure the doors to my fund were wide open, I was about to move on to my second agenda—

"By the way, don’t you need people?"

I hadn’t even brought it up yet when the associates asked first.

‘Now we’re talking.’

Of course, a fund needs new talent.

And since I was at Goldman, it was the perfect place to recruit capable people.

I had already secured Dobby, who had surprisingly worked well with me so far.

On top of that, I reached out to a few promising analysts and traders from different departments whom I had been keeping an eye on.

"Me?"

"If you’re interested, that is."

It was typically hard for new funds to attract top talent.

But within Goldman, I had an 80% accuracy unicorn reputation.

Plus, my new fund was getting a lot of media attention thanks to the Theranos case.

Many saw it as an opportunity to join a rising star.

But among the interested candidates, some were unexpected.

"Can I join too?"

One such person was none other than Gonzalez.

The problem was that his eyes showed no desire to simply join a popular fund.

"Are you talking about joining as an employee instead of an investor?"

"Can’t I do both?"

"I don’t plan on investing in natural resources, though."

Strictly speaking, Gonzalez was an associate in the Natural Resources department.

On top of that, he came from a South American mining dynasty.

His skills and expertise weren’t particularly useful to me as an employee.

But he shrugged and replied.

"Goldman didn’t hire me for my skills either."

He wasn’t wrong.

People like him were valuable for their connections.

In that sense, taking him in wasn’t a bad idea.

"If you’re willing to join, I’d be more than happy to have you."

I thought that was settled, but then another unexpected person appeared.

It was Liliana.

"The back office is outsourced, so there aren’t any openings."

I rejected her outright.

Liliana was in HR.

And I planned to outsource all back-office functions, so there were no positions available.

But then she made an interesting suggestion.

"Not back office—what about middle office?"

"Middle office?"

"Don’t you need IR?"

In Wall Street hierarchy, HR was considered back office, essentially a low-tier role.

But she was now asking if switching jobs could also mean moving up to the middle office.

IR (Investor Relations) was a department that managed relationships with investors, which placed it in the middle office.

Technically, given her HR background, she could be a fit for the role…

‘But is it really necessary?’

Rather than taking a risk on Liliana, who had never handled IR before, hiring an experienced professional would be a safer bet.

I was about to reject her again when she said something surprisingly persuasive.

"I guarantee you—the most important skill for working with Sean is guts. Normal people won’t last more than a couple of months. You need someone with some level of resistance built in from the start."

She had a point.

The first investment I had in mind alone was bound to stir anxiety among investors.

And one of IR’s key responsibilities was to handle investor complaints and concerns.

Liliana’s argument was actually quite convincing.

"I’ll consider it."

I gave her a noncommittal answer and was about to leave Goldman when yet another person approached me.

And this time, it was someone even more unexpected.

It was Rachel.

"No way…"

Was Rachel also planning to join my fund?

This… was complicated in many ways.

We already had a personal connection, plus she was linked to the Castleman Foundation.

It felt like we were getting too tangled up.

Besides—

‘Honestly, this one too…?’

Rachel was basically in the same category as Gonzalez.

Her connections were valuable, but in terms of skills, would she really be worth a high salary?

‘I don’t need to hire her to use her network. And knowing our princess’s generous nature, she’ll probably offer her connections freely even if I don’t pay her.’

So, was there really a reason to hire her?

As I was running the calculations in my head, Rachel suddenly asked something unexpected.

"Sean, are you leaving now?"

She smiled brightly and continued.

"I requested an early leave today. If you’re heading out now, shall we go together?"

When I saw the duffle bag in her hand, I suddenly remembered.

Today… I had to go to Philadelphia.

To meet the second Russian Roulette patient.