A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook-Chapter 34

I need to meet Rachel's father.

The sooner I meet him, the sooner I can uncover information about Theranoson and intercept the funds from its investors.

If I can pull this off safely…

I’ll be able to start my own fund immediately.

A legitimate hedge fund, not some shady operation.

“There’s no need to wait two years for this.”

Initially, my plan was to stay with Goldman for two years.

But after causing such a major incident during that last wager, the circumstances have shifted slightly.

I’ve already secured a decent level of credibility.

For instance, let’s say I launch a new fund right now.

If I claim to be “Goldman-affiliated,” investors will naturally ask the Goldman connections they know about me.

"Do you know Ha Si-heon?"

Anyone still tied to Goldman would obviously know who I am.

When asked, “How do you know him?” they’d likely bring up stories of my accuracy streaks during high-stakes conflicts.

Even if they reach out to other Goldman affiliates, they’ll all say the same thing.

This could spark the interest of investors.

Some might even think, “What’s the harm in investing a few million dollars to test the waters?”

This is credibility.

"Even a shady fund has its advantages in this regard."

It’s hard to believe in a unicorn based on rumors alone, especially one boasting an 80% success rate.

But what if the people who directly invested in my makeshift fund testified to its success?

What if they showed the steady profits appearing in their accounts as proof?

Investors might not stop at millions—they might invest tens of millions instead.

Gathering small amounts piecemeal takes forever. Pulling in $90 million in one go is the way to go.

For that, I need to attend Rachel’s Thanksgiving gathering at her mansion.

But with less than a week left, I still haven’t received an invitation.

"Oh, before I forget! Could I possibly get David’s number? I left in such a rush that I didn’t get a chance to exchange contacts with Jessie…"

Rachel made this request the moment she sat down at the restaurant.

It seems she thought highly of David.

Not a bad thing, but…

The latter part of her statement caught my attention.

Jessie, was it? That woman who came with David last time was the one who outright called me a fraud.

It wouldn’t be good if her suspicions rubbed off on Rachel.

"Of course. But why do you need Jessie’s contact information?"

"There’s a year-end charity event hosted by the organization my brother is part of. We thought it might be a good idea to donate the proceeds to David’s foundation. My brother was on board with the idea…"

If it’s money being donated by her brother, it’s bound to be a substantial amount.

There’s no reason or justification to refuse.

So, I found David’s contact information in my phonebook and handed it to Rachel.

"I hope this helps. They’re genuinely good people."

"Yes, they certainly seemed like it. Though I doubt they liked me very much…"

I deliberately forced a bitter smile and trailed off, hoping to gauge Rachel’s reaction to Jessie’s "fraudster" accusations.

"That’s probably because they’re not used to your demeanor…"

"My demeanor?"

"If someone suddenly offers a large sum of money, it’s hard to believe. And saying ‘I’ll solve this with money’ the way you did… If I’d met you for the first time, I might’ve called you a fraud too."

This… is interesting.

She’s openly acknowledging that I might seem like a con artist but is defending me at the same time.

"And Jessie might just be on edge these days. There’s a lot to worry about with her wedding preparations…"

"Wedding?"

"Yes, it’s scheduled for next May…"

This caught me off guard.

I’d heard she was engaged, but…

I didn’t expect she’d go so far as to actually plan a wedding with someone who might not have much time left.

"They haven’t finalized the date yet. It depends on how the next treatment goes…"

The side effects of the treatment could throw all their plans off course.

Her fiancé might have to be hospitalized for an extended period—or worse, he might not even survive.

Everything hinges on the next treatment.

It’s a decision that requires careful consideration, yet here I am, inserting myself into the equation.

No one would see this in a positive light.

"And since you tend to be quite direct… But I’m sure, given time, they’ll change their opinion of you."

Well.

I can’t say I’m particularly confident, given that I’m not exactly known for having a good personality.

"Here you go."

Rachel handed back my phone with a smile but suddenly stopped mid-motion.

Her eyes were fixed on my phone’s wallpaper.

"Huh? Is this by any chance…"

The background displayed a list of advantages of the Death Clock: Remember that I will die soon. It’s the most useful tool for making tough decisions. Death is the most effective catalyst for change.

I set it up after getting annoyed at the metaphorical “death sentence” I received every midnight.

But Rachel looked at it and broke into a bright smile.

"Isn’t this by Steve Jobs?"

Now that I think about it, our princess is quite the Jobs enthusiast.

"It suits David, doesn’t it?"

"Does it?"

"Instead of fearing death, he’s using it as a catalyst for change. Honestly, it’s remarkable. Both David and you…"

It seems she sees shades of Jobs in our actions.

Well, that works in my favor.

"I hope the work you two are doing turns out well."

That was unexpected.

"I thought you’d be against it."

"Why?"

"Because anyone can see it’s madness. You didn’t even like corporate gambling, and now this is gambling with people’s lives."

"Hmm, honestly, I still feel uneasy about it. But after hearing David’s perspective, I could see how the patients might feel differently."

Rachel suddenly cast her eyes downward, her expression turning serious as she continued.

"Change doesn’t come by standing still. Especially when everyone is shackled to the past. That’s why we need new perspectives, even if they’re a bit extreme…"

When she raised her head again, her face was lit up with a bright smile.

"I don’t think madness is necessarily a bad thing. After all, they say it’s the ones crazy enough to think they can change the world who actually do, right?"

I’ve heard that somewhere before… Ah, yes. It’s a famous tagline from an Enfl commercial.

She’s conveniently wrapping up our gamble in a neat, positive narrative.

It’s not a bad thing, but…

‘At this rate, I’ll never be able to steer the conversation back…’

She’s far too interested, so much so that I can’t bring up the topic I actually need to discuss.

"You said you’d cover the costs of the roulette. Is that feasible?"

"I’ll make it feasible."

"Isn’t the total cost… 60 million dollars? That won’t be easy to raise."

"Raising it isn’t the hard part. The key is raising it in time—within two years."

"Two years?"

Ah, slip of the tongue.

I’d been so preoccupied with the time limit that I accidentally said it out loud.

But it’s a mistake I can recover from.

"In David’s current condition, he can’t endure more seizures. At most, one or two more. He likely won’t last beyond two years."

David’s lifespan, at best, is two years.

If we don’t pull every trigger before then, he dies.

When I explained why we needed to secure the funds within two years, Rachel’s face hardened.

"If it takes longer than that…"

"We’ll make sure it doesn’t."

I tried to move past it with a reassuring smile, but the atmosphere turned unbearably heavy.

A deep shadow had settled over Rachel’s face.

"It’ll be fine. Everything will work out."

"Yes…"

No matter what I said, the shadow over Rachel didn’t lift.

‘Should I have kept my mouth shut?’

I know the truth from the future.

I know that David doesn’t die.

But for Rachel, unaware of this, the reality of David’s terminal condition must hit differently.

After letting the silence hang for a while, I was about to shift to another topic when—

"What if… the funds were raised sooner?"

Rachel spoke in a subdued voice.

"If the 60 million dollars were secured immediately… would it change anything?"

For a moment, I froze.

But I managed to steady my breathing and replied as calmly as possible.

"That almost sounds like you’re offering to provide it yourself, Rachel. But no matter how resourceful you are…"

"Will it help?"

I tried to brush it off as a joke, but Rachel’s gaze was as serious as it could get.

There’s only one reason she’d be acting like this.

She has it—the $60 million.

A sum equivalent to about 79 billion won.

And, depending on my response, she’s willing to donate it.

‘This is insane…’

My mind spun as it started calculating on its own.

As kind as Rachel is, she wouldn’t donate her entire fortune.

The $60 million must be discretionary funds.

This means her actual wealth far exceeds that amount.

Rachel is 24 this year.

It’s unlikely her parents have already transferred their inheritance.

So, there’s only one possible source for that money.

"Rachel, surely… you’re not planning to dip into your trust fund, are you?"

"…"

A trust fund.

A financial mechanism wealthy families use to avoid inheritance and estate taxes.

An inheritance passed down from grandparents—or even earlier generations.

She might actually be thinking about tapping into that.

"You absolutely cannot do that. That’s money meant to secure your future."

"But, I receive it every year anyway…"

"No."

I stiffened my expression and firmly cut her off.

"I understand that David’s situation is heartbreaking. But I only met him yesterday. I don’t know who he truly is, whether what he says is genuine, or even if the foundation he operates is legitimate. That’s why I requested six months—to get to know him carefully. But if you touch your trust fund just to donate…"

Absolutely not.

If she taps into the trust fund, alarms will go off across her entire family.

They’ll dig into the reason for the withdrawal.

Even if every cent of the donation went to David and I didn’t receive a dime, as the person who introduced David, I’d be the first to fall under suspicion.

$60 million would cost $9 billion in consequences.

To prevent such a disaster, I never even considered asking Rachel for money.

I didn’t plan to involve her in my makeshift fund either.

But now…

She’s about to use her inheritance to make a donation on her own.

This was a possibility I hadn’t anticipated or prepared for.

A cold sweat trickled down my back.

"The world is unpredictable. Worst case, what if he’s a con artist who targeted you through me from the start?"

"He didn’t seem like that kind of person…"

"We can’t know for sure. If someone I introduced causes such trouble, it’ll be difficult for me as well. So, please, don’t donate anything without my knowledge."

"…"

Rachel stared at me for a moment before nodding.

"…I wasn’t planning on it either. I was just asking hypothetically…"

The mood had turned slightly awkward when—

"Your food is here."

Right on cue, the waiter arrived with our meals.

As the waiter placed the dishes down, I mulled over her earlier words.

She mentioned “every year.”

Could it be that she receives at least $60 million annually?

If that’s the case, her family background is…

No, this isn’t the time to calculate such things.

Nor should I let it show that I’m even considering it.

"Shall we eat?"

"Yes."

We both smiled, but the air remained tense.

It was my overly serious reaction earlier that caused this.

But apologizing now would only bring back the topics of money and con artists.

I needed to steer the conversation elsewhere—preferably something light, like the upcoming holidays.

I didn’t want to bring it up myself, though…

"Will we work on Thanksgiving as well?"

Thankfully, Rachel broached the topic I needed.

I felt relieved and answered smoothly.

"I suppose we’ll take the day itself off? I doubt we’ll get the entire holiday period, though."

"What are you doing that day?"

She’s offering me an invitation.

Finally.

But I can’t show too much excitement.

I just picked up a clue about her family, and I even warned her about con artists with my own words.

It’s better to proceed more cautiously.

"I don’t know. Maybe I’ll wander around looking for places that serve turkey?"

"By yourself?"

"I really like turkey. So I thought I’d explore some restaurants. There are plenty offering turkey specials around this time."

I actually have other plans for that day.

I’m not just sitting around waiting for an invitation.

I wanted to show that, but her reaction was completely unexpected.

"That sounds fun!"

Rachel clapped her hands and smiled brightly.

"Why don’t we do a New York food tour together? We could even make a turkey hotspot map!"

This… I didn’t see coming.

"Rachel, you should be with your family. If you don’t visit them on a day like this, your parents might feel hurt."

"It’s fine. My parents aren’t the type to feel hurt over things like that."

"Maybe they just don’t say it."

"No, seriously. They won’t mind at all."

As expected, too much kindness can be troublesome.

If our princess becomes too attached to her orphan friend, she might abandon the royal banquet and dash outside the palace gates.

That cannot be allowed.

If Rachel skips the banquet, it’ll be seen as my fault.

Instead of gaining favor with her father, I might end up on his bad side.

"I think it’d be fun!"

No matter what I said, she seemed determined not to go home.

There’s no choice.

I really didn’t want to play this card, but…

"Rachel, no one knows what the future holds. This holiday… might be the last one."

I put on a sorrowful gaze and crafted a face full of hidden pain.

"I know you’re worried about me. But I’m truly okay. I’m used to it now; it doesn’t bother me anymore. Rachel, treasure the time you have with your family."

I even threw in a poignant smile, embodying the strong orphan hiding his sadness.

Rachel fell silent for a while.

After a few seconds, she let out a faint, bitter smile and spoke.

"You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. I should go home."

"That’s a wise decision."

At least the princess will attend the banquet now.

One crisis averted.

Now all that’s left is for the orphan to secure an invitation.

But then—

"So, does that mean we’ll start work on Friday? Along with the others?"

"Probably."

"If we only get one day off, people who live far from home won’t be able to visit their families."

"That’s likely true."

Rachel continued to ask slightly off-topic questions, avoiding the point entirely.

The conversation dragged on until we finished eating.

In the end, I didn’t get an invitation.