A Wall Street Genius’s Final Investment Playbook Chapter 195

Dylan was a Catholic.

So his funeral was held at the most magnificent cathedral in Philadelphia.

"Hey… isn't that Ha Si-heon?"

"Where?"

During the funeral mass, the occasional whispers pierced my ears.

People kept turning around to look, which was more than a little distracting.

‘My presence here feels more like a disturbance.'

Every ti the solemnity of the funeral was broken, I felt uncomfortable.

So, after deeply bowing my head to Dylan's family to offer my condolences, I left to return to New York.

However, when I tried to board the private jet I had reserved in advance—

"We’re very sorry, but we won’t be able to have it ready before your scheduled ti of 5 p.m. We still need to refuel and perform safety checks…"

Since I had left earlier than expected, the private jet wasn’t available.

‘Can’t be helped.’

In the end, I had no choice but to purchase a first-class ticket, but the wait in the airport lounge was another kind of torture.

I briefly regretted not just staying on the private jet to kill ti.

But at this point, I didn’t have three hours to waste—nor the patience.

‘I have too much to do.’

Six weeks had gone into Dylan’s treatnt, with all of my effort poured into it.

During that ti, my investnt work inevitably took a back seat.

Of course, it wasn’t like I had completely let go.

Traveling between New York and Philadelphia, I coordinated major matters through COO Crane, and she handled most of the operations skillfully, living up to expectations.

Still, there are limits to acting through a proxy.

It was now ti for to step forward personally.

‘This is sothing no one else can do for .’

My most urgent task at hand was to secure a founding position in Next AI.

But that would be no easy challenge.

‘It’s not sothing money can solve.’

For most companies, acquiring shares with money would suffice.

But Next AI was different from such conventional business practices.

They had started as a non-profit organization.

In other words, no matter how much money I invested, it would only be considered an “unconditional donation.”

So now, the core of the ga was no longer “gathering shares,” but “securing a seat.”

I had to get into the board of directors—the heart of Next AI, where all major decisions were made.

‘The question is whether my influence will even work on them…’

From what I knew, the founding mbers of Next AI were all part of one of the most exclusive AI circles in Silicon Valley.

Even though I had built considerable public fa and influence, it had mostly been through hot-topic news and economic features.

Among Silicon Valley’s tech elite, I was still very much an outsider.

‘I need to break through that solid wall…’

Fortunately, there was still plenty of ti.

With the official founding of Next AI set for December, I had about 10 months to prepare.

So my imdiate goal was clear.

Within that ti, I had to not only gain the recognition of Silicon Valley’s AI elite, but also convince them to willingly offer a seat on the board.

#

When I returned to the New York office, COO Crane was waiting for .

From the look on her face alone, I could tell there was bad news.

“Three of the investnt targets you ntioned have declined.”

So of the companies I had designated had rejected our funding.

Crane added with a wry smile, “Even with all this money, investing isn’t easy.”

Right, money wasn’t the issue at all.

Our private equity fund had been a far greater success than expected.

Initially worried about a lack of participants, we had pressured hedge fund investors into joining the private fund, but unexpectedly, many investors flocked in, and we surpassed our $7.5 billion goal by raising $8 billion.

But.

In the process of investing this massive capital, we were facing an unforeseen obstacle.

Promising startups were refusing our investnt.

“What’s the reason for rejection?”

“They’re extrely resistant to managent involvent. They said they might reconsider if it’s just a revenue-sharing condition.”

All of the startups that had rejected us were in their Series B funding round, each aiming to raise about $200 million.

And I had offered to provide that entire amount.

On the surface, it seed like an attractive proposal.

But for the startups, the idea of depending so heavily on a single investor felt very threatening.

‘Well, that’s understandable.’

We had requested both voting shares and seats on the board.

“They said voting rights might be negotiable, but board seats are out of the question.”

A suggestion that we refrain from managent involvent.

But I responded firmly.

“That’s not possible. With an investnt of this scale, a seat on the board is a natural right.”

I must be involved in managent.

Why else would I want to invest in these companies?

It’s to utilize their technology in treating Castleman disease.

‘They’d obviously refuse if I only asked.’

It’s highly unlikely they’d voluntarily commit resources to research on a non-profitable rare disease.

That’s why I needed managent control to make it happen.

But Crane looked troubled.

“If we continue insisting on managent involvent, the deals are likely to fall through. These companies are promising enough that they won’t have trouble finding other investors.”

“Still, wouldn’t it be better for them to resolve everything in one negotiation with us?”

“Well… not necessarily. Right now, their biggest concern seems to be ‘cultural differences.’”

Cultural differences.

A phrase that indirectly described the gap between Silicon Valley and Wall Street.

Though they looked similar on the surface and often ford partnerships, their core nature was completely different.

Silicon Valley is the world of idealists.

People who dream of becoming the next Steve Jobs, unconventional leaders who ignore real-world limitations with the belief that innovation can change the world.

On the other hand, Wall Street is the domain of thorough realists.

How will it be comrcialized?

What does the growth curve look like, and how much revenue will it generate?

Everything in that world is converted into numbers.

But what happens when hedge funds start participating in the managent of dream-chasing companies?

They’ll start pulling out calculators before anything even begins—crushing those dreams before they can take shape…

That was what Silicon Valley ant by “cultural difference.”

“Even considering that we’re Pareto Innovation?”

Pareto Innovation had established a distinct identity, separate from conventional hedge funds, through the Valeant–Herbalife incident.

Promoting rare disease treatnts and advocating ethical investnts,

A fund that enjoyed overwhelming support from retail investors, so I had hoped our managent involvent might be more welcod…

“But they still seem to think we’re essentially not much different from other hedge funds. Most of all, I—"

"From the looks of it… they seed more concerned about the reputation that might follow if they accepted our investnt."

In any society, where people live together, reputation within the community is naturally important.

But if you partner with a hedge fund too early, you'll be branded as “tainted by greed” among Silicon Valley’s idealists.

According to Crane, the startups that rejected our offer were worried about exactly that.

Either way, it was a problematic situation for .

My ultimate goal was to beco a founding mber of Next AI, and these startups were important stepping stones toward securing that seat.

"What should we do? Should we look for alternative companies?"

"No."

Changing the investnt targets wasn’t an option.

There were reasons why I had chosen them.

They were the “winning horses” that had shown the most outstanding results among countless similar companies.

“I just need to make them accept my investnt. I’ll visit them in person.”

“Shall I set up etings with all three?”

Crane seed to think I was planning to visit each of the companies that rejected my offer and convince them one by one.

But she was wrong.

"No. Right now, the key is reputation. Schedule it for an event where as many people as possible will be present."

"Sorry?"

"Let’s work on building my reputation first."

It was about ti I started expanding my influence in Silicon Valley.

#

I instructed my secretary Nicole to find an event that would likely be attended by major Silicon Valley figures.

And a few hours later, she ca back with the perfect option.

The Consciousness Hack Summit.

Led by a prominent neuroscientist, this event was a unique intellectual festival exploring the boundaries between technology and human consciousness.

“Apparently, well-known founders attended both last year and the year before.”

A cca for Silicon Valley idealists.

It was the perfect stage.

So three days later, I flew to California with Crane.

After settling into the hotel and taking a look around the venue, I sensed a peculiar difference from the start.

‘As expected, this is different.’

Though it was also called a “summit,” this was a completely different world from the hedge fund summits I was used to.

First of all, the attendees were all dressed in relaxed casual wear, and their faces were full of calm expressions instead of the sharp sales smiles I often saw.

The atmosphere was as relaxed as their clothing.

The booths at the venue were also fascinating.

“This is Synchro. It uses electrical stimulation to regulate emotions and induce calmness and vitality.”

There were EEG-reading wristbands, apps that curated “music to expand human potential,” and more.

At first glance, it didn’t seem like the center of cutting-edge technology.

‘Well, that’s exactly what makes it so Silicon Valley.’

While they pursued high-end tech, they also displayed an almost obsessive fascination with spiritual awakening.

Drinking kombucha, practicing deep ditation, and going on “soul-searching journeys” were considered essential experiences in their culture.

Anyway.

After walking around the venue, I headed to the main banquet hall to attend the keynote speech.

Even there, I could feel people’s gazes turning toward .

"Hey… isn't that Ha Si-heon?"

“No way. Why would Ha Si-heon be at a place like this? Especially dressed like that.”

My brows twitched slightly at the word “dressed like that.”

I had deliberately ditched my usual impeccable suit and chosen a shabby outfit to blend in with them—but clearly, it still didn’t work.

“Wait, that really looks like Orca.”

“Why is he here? He totally doesn’t fit in…”

Their voices carried subtle undertones of rejection.

They weren’t just referring to my clothing, obviously—but wondering why a famous hedge fund manager would show up in the heart of Silicon Valley.

‘If I were an ordinary hedge fund manager, I’d agree.’

But I was different.

[This summit isn’t about technological innovation. It’s about transcending the limits of human consciousness and designing an ethical future that benefits all of humanity.]

If the the here was an “ethical future,” I was more than qualified to be here.

Of course, they probably understood that… intellectually.

But the “Ha Si-heon” they knew was just a filtered image from news and dia.

To break through their distrust, I had to show that I shared their “cultural code.”

‘Well, it’s not that hard.’

The thod was simple.

Dress like them, eat like them, act like them, talk like them.

And this place gave a unique advantage.

‘In tis like this, black hair can be quite the weapon.’

The idealists of Silicon Valley had a romanticized fantasy about Asian spirituality and wisdom.

You could tell just from the event’s program.

There were sessions lined up for ditation, tai chi, and sound baths.

I wasn’t going to miss that chance.

During ditation hour, I took a seated posture I had hastily learned on the plane and gave Crane advice like an old practitioner.

“Sitting ditation and the lotus position are fundantally different. Sitting ditation isn’t just a posture—it’s a unified state of body and mind.”

“Breathing through the lower abdon is the key. Just below the navel, here… is the center of energy…”

I pretended to practice this Eastern wisdom as if it were my daily routine.

Of course, there were tis when it didn’t work.

To be honest, my tai chi movents during the following session looked awkward to anyone watching.

But a well-placed comnt could easily flip the atmosphere.

“My father taught a slightly different version when I was young. Is this a localized adaptation…?”

With that narrative, I beca a legitimate heir of Eastern spiritual tradition, while the white attendees here instantly turned into clumsy imitators who had distorted the original.

“Do they have tai chi in Korea?”

“No, not tai chi exactly, but there’s sothing called qigong. The essence is similar.”

Soon enough, a few people began to seriously ask about Eastern wisdom.

That’s when I’d give them a mysterious, sage-like smile…

I was blending in quite naturally—until soone approached with firm footsteps.

“Fancy eting you here.”

A white man in his 30s.

He exchanged a brief greeting with Crane and then turned to .

“This is the first ti we’re eting in person. I’m Schmidt, CEO of Tempest.”

Tempest.

A company I had my eye on, which offered personalized dical solutions using data and machine learning.

I had offered a large investnt in exchange for a managent role, but was rejected—one of the startups from before.

With a cautious gaze, Schmidt said,

“Our position on the investnt hasn’t changed, as we’ve already stated. That’s not going to shift.”

He spoke as if I had chased him all the way here just to convince him.

Though in reality, he was the one who ca over.

“Of course, I understand that you're not like other investors, Si-heon. But hedge funds, by nature, operate for their investors’ profits. That just doesn’t align with our goals.”

His ssage was clear.

When it ca to his noble goal of “personalized patient care,”

The calculating nature of hedge funds would damage their image.

No matter how good my reputation was, in essence I was still a greedy investor pursuing profit—and that didn’t align with their ideals.

Still, the timing couldn’t have been worse.

Honestly, a wave of irritation rose.

‘Did he really have to bring that up here?’

What do you think I’ve been doing all day in this “wise Eastern sage” cosplay?

All just to emphasize that I was a special kind of fund manager, one far removed from greed, carrying Eastern wisdom.

But now?

‘You’re raining on my parade?’

Murmurs.

anwhile, curious eyes were gathering around us.

‘I can’t just let this slide.’

I tilted my head and gently raised my hand to interrupt him.

“Apologies, but could we continue this discussion another day? I ca here to take a breather from work, just for a mont.”

For a brief second, Schmidt’s face stiffened.

Now he looked like the “calculating businessman who brings up deals even at spiritual events.”

But he soon regained composure and continued.

“I just wanted to make it clear that even if we et another day, my answer will remain the sa.”

His tone carried a strong desire to emphasize his own purity.

As if to say: “I move for a greater cause, while you only represent investor profits.”

But—

He picked the wrong opponent.

When it cos to image gas, I’m a level above.