In general, corporate accounting fraud scandals rarely capture the public’s attention.
The inherently complex financial terminology and dull arrangent of numbers are simply too dry to spark popular interest.
However.
That only applies when the scandal lacks sufficient “entertainnt value.”
The exposé Masayoshi Son unleashed about WeHub was the exact exception.
This WeHub incident wasn’t filled with complex accounting jargon, but with outrageous episodes that completely defied common sense.
The internet reacted explosively.
—[Breaking] A brave startup erges to solve the global crisis of dog fashion! WeHub distributes luxury hoodies with the company logo to all employees’ dogs..................
—I’ve finally found my dream workplace........! Mom, when I grow up, I want to be the “Vice President of Enlightennt”!
—(Image of a golden retriever in a suit) [Exclusive] We et WeHub’s Chief Happiness Officer (CHO). In his deep gaze, we could feel profound insight into the company’s bright future..................
—Not even a Roman emperor, yet the CEO has a personal sauna and ice bath? At this rate, next quarter’s earnings announcent will be held in the Colosseum..............
WeHub instantly rose to beco an icon symbolizing the bizarre culture of Silicon Valley, with countless s and mockery-filled catchphrases spreading rapidly.
There was no way the dia would overlook such a sensational and provocative story.
Soon, additional exposés began pouring out from forr employees who had actually worked at WeHub.
[It was closer to a cult than a company. The official mission statent was “to elevate the consciousness level of humanity.”]
[The annual sumr camp was the pinnacle. What did we do there, you ask? We walked barefoot over burning coals and practiced “energy alignnt yoga,” laughing manically together to synchronize our spirits with the company. There were even rumors that not laughing could affect your performance review.]
[We also had to attend “Resonance” seminars, where we were taught how to synchronize our energy frequencies with the company.............]
In truth, rumors about WeHub’s eccentric CEO had existed for quite so ti.
Many had seen him walking around with long hair and barefoot like a ssiah.
But back then, everyone simply assud it was part of the trendy Silicon Valley culture of “mindfulness” and “Zen leadership,” and didn’t think much of it...............
[At the workshop venue, there was an open bar every 50 ters, and the alcohol was unlimited. They even filled canoes with vodka.]
[A colleague handed a pill, claiming it was “an aid for spiritual awakening, personally given by a shaman”............ and then I lost all mory of the next 72 hours.]
[They filled water guns with vodka and shot them at each other................]
Once the lid was lifted, it beca clear this wasn’t a startup, but a full-blown absurdist cody.
However, in the midst of the unstoppable barrage of ridicule, WeHub finally released an official statent...............
And it was utterly ridiculous.
In essence: “It’s your fault for not looking hard enough, but sorry if it was inconvenient.”
Their excuses regarding the company culture were even more shaless.
To summarize their words: “Silicon Valley has always been like this.”
In truth, WeHub’s excuses were not entirely wrong.
The working environnt in Silicon Valley is on a completely different level from what ordinary office workers imagine.
Gooble has long been famous for its office resembling a playground, and many startups had already adopted ditation classes, mindfulness programs, and yoga sessions as standard employee benefits.
Workshops commonly included wilderness survival training, pilgrimages to Burning Man, and silent disco parties.
In other words, WeHub was arguing that “this is how Silicon Valley operates.”
They claid that in order to maximize creativity, it is necessary to intentionally blur the lines between work and play.
WeHub was rely pushing that line “a little” further.
But this brazen attitude only backfired.
The dia and experts began digging beneath the surface to expose deeper systemic issues.
[This is largely due to the influence of Steve Jobs. The ‘founder worship culture’ he started is the problem.]
[Jobs was a founder who embodied both eccentricity and genius, and he actually turned the impossible into reality. The problem is that now investors see eccentric behavior and automatically assu there must be proportional genius behind it. When they see a barefoot CEO, they imdiately think “the next Jobs” and believe even the most absurd visions could be “disruptive innovation.”]
Other analysts pointed out even more fundantal issues.
[After the 2008 financial crisis, unprecedented monetary policy ushered in an era of zero interest rates. Liquidity was overflowing, but regulations on traditional finance tightened, so capital flocked to Silicon Valley, where regulations were relatively loose.]
[The problem is that when cheap money is abundant, attitudes toward risk change. On top of this structural distortion ca the unique psychological phenonon of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out).]
[Today’s hyperconnected digital environnt has amplified this fear to the extre. Social dia, 24-hour news, and stories of people becoming rich overnight create a trendous sense of urgency, pressuring investors into believing that if they don’t jump in imdiately, they’ll be left behind forever.]
While the specific causes they highlighted differed slightly, their conclusions were identical.
[WeHub is just the tip of the iceberg. This isn’t a case of a single rogue company—it’s a structural failure of the entire system.]
[Excess liquidity, founder worship, and FOMO have combined into a toxic cocktail that inevitably produces these outcos. If the root causes are ignored, we’ll see more WeHubs erging—one after another.]
[In fact, we’ve been seeing these ominous patterns for years—Theranos, Ubers, and now WeHub............ all symptoms of the sa disease.]
This is not an isolated incident! Analysts declared that this problem will continue to occur in the future!
But the ones who felt the greatest anxiety were the pension funds managing trillions of dollars.
Of course, this anxiety may seem odd to outsiders.
They might ask, “Why were these supposedly intelligent people investing without proper due diligence? Of course they’re anxious if they acted recklessly.”
But these institutions had their own circumstances.
In reality, both general funds and pension funds are under intense pressure to generate returns.
Other funds were earning double-digit yields from Silicon Valley investnts—could they alone remain in safe assets?
That was unthinkable.
Thus, institutions like pension funds routinely kept an eye on Silicon Valley companies...................
But when they actually tried to invest directly into these “hot” companies, an entirely unexpected problem arose.
The more popular and promising a company was, the more it stood in a position to pick and choose its investors.
So of Silicon Valley’s hot startups often refused to disclose sufficient information, acting as if “investing in our company is a privilege in itself.”
As a result, if you insisted on thorough docuntation, you might be told, “Oh, you’re being picky. We’ll just find other investors….”
In fear of losing the opportunity altogether, many institutions went ahead and invested with inadequate information.
In other words, there was a single cause behind the imnse anxiety currently felt by institutions managing trillions of dollars, including pension funds.
There might be a second and third WeHub lurking throughout the tech industry.
Now the ga had beco too dangerous to play the way they used to.
But that didn’t an they could simply give up the high returns coming out of Silicon Valley.
Therefore, they needed a clever way to filter out frauds and find true unicorns even with insufficient information.
And yet…
The answer was surprisingly simple.
“Pareto Innovation!”
The shop with the best returns on Wall Street!
Besides, wasn’t Ha Si-heon the very person who exposed the truth behind Theranos and Ubers?
In the WeHub fiasco as well, it was Ha Si-heon who warned earlier than anyone about Silicon Valley’s moral hazard.
—With Pareto, we can capture both safety and returns!
In that context, investor inquiries flooded into Pareto Innovation.
The reply, however, was disappointing.
Pareto’s stance was that it would pour all its capabilities into the newly launched $100 billion “Cure Fund.”
Of course, the Cure Fund was an attractive destination, but it carried the inherent limitation of being a healthcare-only fund.
Thus, just when those who wanted exposure to the tech sector’s high returns—while also counting on Pareto’s stability there—were swallowing their disappointnt and searching for “safe high yield” alternatives, unexpected good news arrived.
News of a dramatic reconciliation between Ha Si-heon and Masayoshi Son!
The two heavyweights redefined their past differences as “misunderstandings,” expressed mutual regret, and went on to sign a strategic partnership.
This ant Ha Si-heon would wield real influence over the Visionary Fund’s investnt decisions.
Pareto Innovation’s door had closed, but an indirect detour opened through Visionary.
It also created a chance to borrow—however indirectly—Ha Si-heon’s investnt judgnt.
— The mont is now!
Imdiately afterward, money began pouring into the Visionary Fund.
Against that backdrop, as the remaining $20 billion of the $100 billion target was instantly filled…
Masayoshi gave a bitter smile.
“So this is how it ends up….”
Ha Si-heon’s prophecy was becoming reality.
[That’s true on a clear day. But if a typhoon engulfs the entire sky, won’t everyone rush toward the only safe place—the eye of the storm?]
This was precisely the picture Ha Si-heon had drawn.
To concentrate capital in one place…
He provoked them and whipped up a typhoon across the perfectly fine tech sector!
“He’s out of his mind.”
He was, in every sense, a world-class madman.
Masayoshi, too, was a fairly seasoned investor, and he himself had been called “crazy” before…
But Ha Si-heon was a madman of an entirely different order.
And yet…
“What shall we do, sir?”
“We’ve hit the target amount, but inquiries are still pouring in.”
“At this rate, if we launch Visionary Fund II as planned, there’s a good chance it will fill up imdiately…!”
Crazy as he was, he was a useful kind of crazy.
At this pace, they could fill the second fund—originally slated for launch three years later—right now.
He had even anticipated this.
[I will reserve veto power only for the Visionary Fund. In other words, everything else becos your kingdom.]
[Well? Even with that, will you still refuse to work with ?]
In short, Ha Si-heon would pull the strings on the Visionary Fund’s $100 billion.
But the capital that flowed in afterward would be free for Masayoshi to manage without restrictions.
“We’ve paid a steep price…?”
It was an offer that was hard to refuse, so he accepted in the end.
Grinding his teeth yet unable to deny reality, Masayoshi was wearing that bitter look when—
Bzzzzzt!
The phone rang.
The caller was none other than Ha Si-heon.
And he said sothing unexpected.
[Don’t you need my “help” for the next fund as well?]
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