“How is it?”
I asked David, looking straight at him.
In order for my hedge fund to continue providing funding for the developnt of the treatnt, the Castleman Foundation had to operate a for-profit company under its umbrella.
Every company needs a CEO.
I wanted to entrust that position to David, but his face showed only burden.
“Do I really have to take on this role? It’s going to be funded by Sean’s money anyway, so in this case, Sean could…”
David indirectly expressed his intention to decline, but I firmly cut him off.
“That won’t work. If I beco the CEO, a conflict of interest issue will arise.”
A hedge fund I founded investing a large sum of money into a company I represent?
Who would believe in the sincerity of that investnt?
Especially if the company keeps making losses?
The person leading this company had to be soone completely unrelated to .
There was no more suitable person than David, yet he was hesitating.
“I don’t have the capability or capacity to run such a business. I’m not even interested. Just developing the treatnt is already overwhelming…”
“This is a necessary procedure for developing the treatnt. If we establish a subsidiary like this, we’ll be able to attract investnt funds instead of just relying on donations. Not only my capital but also investnts from other sources can be secured.”
“That’s true, but…”
“Relying solely on donations will never allow us to complete clinical trials. With a company like this, we can attract various institutional investors. Moreover, with a business model like a rare disease biobank, there’s also a possibility of securing large-scale funding from governnts and international organizations.”
Despite emphasizing the necessity to this extent, David still showed hesitation.
“If the investnt increases, so does the responsibility. I’m still uncertain about its profitability… I don’t want to waste precious ti being pressured by sales targets every day.”
It seed he was worried about whether the company could actually turn a profit.
However, I answered decisively.
“It doesn’t matter if we don’t make a profit.”
“What?”
“What’s important is not the revenue but the potential. In fact, there’s a startup I know that barely generates any revenue but is valued at a whopping 9 billion dollars.”
The company I cited as an example was Theranos.
It was an extre case that demonstrated the power of ‘potential,’ having attracted enormous investnt without real technology.
“Our service offers enough potential.”
“But…”
Even after persuading him for a long ti, David couldn’t make a decision.
In the end, he sighed and said, “You’re making a valid point, but could you give a day to think about it? It’s such a sudden proposal, and I think I need to discuss it with Jessie…”
“Of course.”
I answered calmly on the surface, but frustration welled up inside .
“Jessie again…?”
David consulted Jessie on all important matters, and at tis, I felt he relied on her excessively.
As if sensing my thoughts, David cautiously continued speaking.
“I know it may be frustrating, but I have no choice. I owe my life to Jessie.”
David paused for a mont and lowered his gaze. Then, as if making a significant decision, he confessed.
“In fact, I was already as good as dead four years ago.”
His eyes dimd.
It seed he was recalling the mont when he faced death four years ago.
“At the ti, I suffered from consecutive seizures, but no one could give an accurate diagnosis. I spent a year and a half wandering from hospital to hospital.”
The diagnostic criteria for Castleman disease were established in 2018.
Before that, it was often misdiagnosed as lymphoma, and David said he was also misdiagnosed.
It appeared to be lymphoma, but it was a rare case with symptoms different from typical lymphoma.
We don’t even know the exact cause.
That’s what the doctors said, adding that there was nothing more they could do, and David had no choice but to lie in bed waiting for death.
“I had given up hope and started putting my affairs in order, even ending my relationship with Jessie… Though I kept the illness a secret and simply told her we should break up. I thought a breakup would be less cruel to her than bereavent.”
David looked down at the ground and let out a bitter smile.
“I didn’t tell anyone about my illness except my two closest friends and my family.”
“It’s not like I was trying to hide it, but…”
“There probably wasn’t much reason to go out of your way to tell people.”
“Yes, exactly.”
It was understandable enough.
I hadn’t bothered to tell anyone about my illness either.
If I had needed a blood or organ donation, it might have been different.
But since that wasn’t the case, talking about an incurable disease would only result in cliché sympathy like ‘That’s unfortunate.’
“Then, I had another seizure, and I truly felt that the end was near. So, I called a pastor, left my will, and was just waiting for death. But at that mont, Jessie appeared in front of .”
It turned out that David’s best friend had broken his promise and told Jessie everything about the illness.
Jessie, having learned the truth too late, rushed to his bedside.
“At the ti, my organs were failing, and I no longer looked human—I was in a pitiful state. And yet, Jessie saw like that. Do you know what she said as soon as she saw ?”
“I don’t know. Did she resent you?”
“No, she asked to marry her.”
“……”
That woman must have been remarkable.
To propose to a human balloon.
“At the ti, I couldn’t even respond because of the intubation. Then Jessie said, ‘Silence ans yes,’ and unilaterally concluded that I had accepted her proposal. After that, she visited every day, talking about wedding preparations… I just couldn’t leave her.”
David’s eyes grew moist.
After taking a mont to compose himself, he continued.
“Then, sothing truly amazing happened—I began to recover as if by a miracle. I ca back from the brink of death. I… I believe Jessie saved . She gave a reason to cling to life, and that reason gave the will to live.”
Could that really be possible?
Still, I could sowhat understand David’s special attachnt to Jessie.
“Since then, Jessie even quit her job to help and work at the foundation. I can’t make such an important decision without consulting her.”
“Of course. I wasn’t expressing dissatisfaction.”
“I know you weren’t, but I thought you might find it strange. Since this is how things will be in the future, I wanted to ask for your understanding in advance.”
I nodded willingly.
“Understood. Honestly, I didn’t expect an answer within a day anyway. That wouldn’t be like you.”
“Not really, haha!”
David suddenly burst into laughter and said sothing unexpected.
“In fact, my original personality was impulsive and carefree. I was quite a troublemaker. I enjoyed living as a free spirit, and I once dropped everything and went on a two-week world trip on a whim…”
A carefree David. That’s hard to imagine, given how he is now.
Well, to be fair, I haven’t had many personal conversations with David.
“But things are different now. This is my second life, and in this new life, my priorities have completely changed.”
A small smile crept onto my lips.
“A new life, new priorities…”
That was sothing I could relate to.
We both shared the experience of living a second life.
In my case, it was quite literal—I had co back to life and returned to the past.
But aside from that, the essence was the sa.
Both of us had been given a second chance at life, and we had decided to dedicate it entirely to developing a treatnt.
“That’s why I think you’re incredible, Sean. Despite losing soone precious, you didn’t give up on developing the treatnt.”
“Sorry?”
“I have soone precious by my side, so I can try this hard. But if Jessie had left too, I don’t know if I could have continued down this path…”
“……”
“Would it be too rude to ask who that person was…?”
“……”
I couldn’t give an imdiate answer.
I could vaguely lie and say it was a family mber…
But that might be exposed soday.
Records of my father’s dical history or my mother’s accident would be sowhere if soone looked hard enough.
Not that anyone would bother digging it up…
‘But I can’t completely rule out the possibility.’
In the future, I would beco a public figure.
A fund manager with outstanding achievents and soone deeply involved in rare disease treatnt developnt.
When that happens, there will inevitably be people curious about my personal life.
If I rashly ntion my family history here, it could later be revealed as a lie.
For now, it would be better to remain ambiguous.
“I’ll tell you when the ti is right.”
I put on an expression as emotional as possible, as if recalling that mont itself was painful.
David’s eyes widened in surprise.
He seed quite taken aback.
“Sorry, I didn’t an to pry.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m just not ready to talk about it yet…”
“Of course, I understand. I wasn’t trying to force you.”
After that, David looked at with eyes full of sympathy for a while.
Feeling uncomfortable with his blatant gaze, I turned my head, and a clock ca into view.
It was almost six o’clock.
“Shouldn’t we get going now?”
We got into David’s old car once again.
Our destination was the University of Pennsylvania Hospital, where we had an appointnt with soone.
As we entered the hospital, a familiar sll hit my nose.
It was the distinctive scent of the hospital, a mix of various disinfectants and dications.
“Phew…”
I found myself breathing heavily without realizing it.
It’s known that the sense of sll is the strongest trigger for mories.
Perhaps that’s why mories of lying on a hospital bed, waiting for death, vividly ca back to .
I fixed my gaze on the floor and kept walking.
The fluorescent lights seed unusually bright.
Before I knew it, my hands and feet were growing cold.
‘Is this PTSD…?’
Just a few months ago, I had experienced similar symptoms in a hospital.
It didn’t seem like a one-ti occurrence.
“You look tired.”
David’s voice pulled out of my daze as I walked in a semi-conscious state.
“Sorry?”
“You don’t look well.”
“You don’t look great either, David.”
David’s face was equally pale.
He gave an awkward smile and rubbed his face with both hands.
“Honestly, I always feel like this whenever I co to a hospital. I’ve got too many bad mories.”
Well, he too had danced on the brink of death multiple tis, just like .
It wasn’t surprising that he might have PTSD as well.
We continued walking down the hallway in silence.
As we passed through the lobby and took the elevator to the fifth floor, neither of us said a word.
Only the conversations of others and the chanical beeping of dical devices filled the air.
After walking for so ti, a voice ca from down the hallway.
“David!”
As I lifted my head, I made eye contact with a Hispanic man who appeared to be in his late 30s.
He stood there, looking tense and stiff.
David exchanged a warm greeting with the man before turning to .
“Let introduce you. This is Joel Rodriguez, and this is…”
David’s gaze shifted downward.
Behind Joel’s legs, a little girl was hiding.
The child looked up at us with frightened eyes.
“This is Michelle Rodriguez.”
David introduced the child in a gentle voice.
I nodded slightly and greeted them.
“Nice to et you. I’m Ha Si-heon, you can call Sean…”
“Are you…”
Before I could finish speaking, Joel took a step forward and grasped both of my hands tightly.
His hands were trembling violently, and tears welled up in his eyes.
“You’re the one supporting this treatnt! Thank you so much. Thank you, truly!”
I tried to pull my hands away, but he wouldn’t let go.
“We couldn’t even dream of affording the treatnt, and yet you’re covering the costs… Truly…”
“I have my own reasons for doing this, so please don’t feel burdened.”
“It’s not a burden, really…”
“Besides, we don’t even know if the treatnt will work yet.”
“Even so, it doesn’t matter. I just don’t know how to thank you enough…”
Joel, who had been choking up, soon regained his composure.
He wrapped his arm tightly around his daughter’s shoulder.
“Would you mind going ahead? I need to wait for my brother so I can leave Michelle with him…”
We nodded in response and headed toward the hospital room.
As the door opened, I reflexively shut my eyes.
In the darkness, only the sounds echoed around .
Beep, beep, beep—
Huff, huff, huff—
The ECG monitor displayed irregular heartbeats, and the chanical breathing sounds from the ventilator filled the room.
I kept my eyes closed.
I knew what kind of scene awaited —one I didn’t want to confront.
But I couldn’t avoid it forever.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, revealing a hospital room filled with countless dical devices.
And lying in the center of that room was a woman.
Her limbs were swollen to nearly twice their usual size.
Her skin was stretched taut, almost like transparent plastic.
She looked like a human balloon.
The woman’s face was so swollen it was almost unrecognizable, with only her barely open, slit-like eyes faintly visible.
She was the person I had co to et today.
Alia Rodriguez.
Our first Russian roulette patient.
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