A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook-Chapter 115

Sharma crossed his arms arrogantly and stared at me. Then, he said something rather unexpected.

“I believe you are well acquainted with the board members of Theranos. Two former Secretaries of State, a former Secretary of Defense, a former Senator, and even former CEOs of major corporations. The board is composed of some of the most prominent figures.”

He was the one who brought up Theranos’ board of directors.

“Why do you think they invested in and support Theranos?”

That was something I had also been wondering about.

The more I investigated, the less it made sense.

Why would such high-profile individuals invest in such a shoddy company?

Was it simply because of the backing from Silicon Valley elites, IT industry celebrities, and renowned professors?

‘Well…’

Many of Theranos’ board members were figures who had wisely navigated the intense conflicts of the Cold War era.

These were individuals with exceptional strategic thinking.

Would they have blindly followed the influence of celebrities?

That part had always been unclear to me, and then Sharma said something even more unexpected.

“If an analyst like you can see the flaws, do you really think they wouldn’t?”

“Are you saying they invested despite knowing the flaws?”

A smirk.

At my question, Sharma twisted his lips into a crooked smile.

His eyes carried the contempt of someone looking down on a fool.

“That is not something I can divulge easily. However, I suggest you carefully reconsider why people far more capable than you chose to invest.”

What he meant was, ‘The higher-ups made the decision, so there must be a reason—just accept it.’

It could have been mere bluffing…

But something about it felt off.

‘The real reason the board invested…?’

It would be wise to confirm that first.

Sharma had no intention of revealing the reason to me, but getting him to talk wouldn’t be difficult.

I immediately put on a look of pity and gazed at him.

“You don’t know either, do you?”

Sharma’s face twisted for a brief moment.

Then, he growled.

“I am the second-in-command of this company. How could I not know?”

His reaction was clearly defensive.

So, I quickly offered an apology.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant. Of course, you must know to some extent. I was just saying that it might be difficult for you to grasp the full details. Having deep conversations with those board members wouldn’t be easy.”

“What are you implying? Conversations like that are naturally…”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve heard their official stance through official channels at Theranos. But have you ever had a sincere, private conversation with them?”

“……”

Sharma did not respond immediately.

Of course, he wouldn’t have had such a conversation.

After all, Sharma was an Indian-American.

I let out a bitter smile.

“So, the ‘bamboo ceiling’ exists here too.”

The ‘bamboo ceiling’ refers to the barriers that Asian-Americans face in career advancement.

It was an invisible wall of discrimination that applied to both Sharma, an Indian-American, and me, a Korean-American.

In other words, I had just labeled him as an ‘Asian’ and pulled him onto the same level as me.

Sharma’s expression instantly darkened.

“You and I are different.”

“Oh, of course. You’re the COO (Chief Operating Officer), after all. That’s certainly no easy feat. Especially as an Asian.”

I averted my gaze and looked at the ground before giving another bitter smile.

“There’s a saying in Korea: ‘A dragon can rise from a small stream.’ It means that even those from humble backgrounds can succeed if they have talent. I used to believe America was also a land of such opportunities… but reality is different.”

Here, I let out a heavy sigh.

“I have a friend who graduated at the top of Harvard Law School. Despite coming from a difficult background, he landed a job at one of the top law firms. At the time, everyone praised him, saying, ‘A dragon has risen from the small stream.’ But… seven years later, the one who made partner at that law firm was a white classmate who had spent his Harvard years partying and indulging in luxury.”

This is something that happens every day in America.

Unlike Korea, where a single college entrance exam or a job at a major corporation can turn your life around,

In the grand scheme of life, something matters more than mere ability.

“My friend, in his despair, was told, ‘To become a partner, you need an entirely different kind of talent.’ Once you reach that position, the most important thing is ‘client management.’ And for that, exceptional ‘social skills’ are essential. In other words, it means you need a prestigious family background and a strong personal network.”

The highest positions in society are always reserved for those with superior ‘social skills.’

In other words, they belong to the white upper class.

Their right to stand at the very top stems from their ‘social capital.’

Elite private schools, prestigious universities, and the deep-rooted connections passed down through their family backgrounds.

If you just prove your true ability, will they welcome us?

That’s just the naive thinking of those who don’t understand the true face of America’s multiracial society.

You only need to look at Gerard to see the truth.

Even though I had made him a fortune, didn’t he still glare at me with suspicion?

Those who try to climb high based on ‘ability’ rather than ‘social capital’ are quickly labeled as threats by the white upper class.

That’s why, no matter how high Asians climb, they are never truly welcomed.

Sharma must know this truth.

Do you really think the white elites sincerely welcomed him as COO?

“I thought breaking into the C-suite meant you had shattered that ceiling… but another, even higher and thicker ceiling was waiting inside.”

The C-suite—a term used for top executive positions like CEO (Chief Executive Officer) and COO (Chief Operating Officer).

I looked at Sharma with the same empathetic gaze, as if to say, ‘Even someone like you is hitting the same bamboo ceiling. I completely understand how that feels.’

Sharma’s expression hardened even more.

“I already told you, you and I are different.”

“Oh, yes. I must have spoken out of turn. My apologies. I never intended to be disrespectful.”

But even as I apologized, I didn’t drop the look of sympathy.

Instead, I quickly changed the subject, as if I were being considerate of him.

“What were we talking about earlier?” fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

“The real reason Theranos’ board invested.”

Liliana suddenly interjected, bringing the topic back to what I had so ‘kindly’ veered away from.

Her eyes sparkled as if she were watching an exciting movie.

The expressions of the other 15 members of the due diligence team were similar.

Seizing the opportunity, I turned back to Sharma.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. The board’s investment… well, I’m sure they have their reasons. How could we possibly know?”

I continued to look at him with a face that struggled to conceal my lingering pity.

A gaze that said, ‘I know you’re an Asian COO being sidelined, but for the sake of your pride, I won’t press further.’

If Sharma chose to keep his mouth shut now?

He would forever remain, in my eyes, a helpless Asian trapped under the bamboo ceiling with no way out.

Could Sharma tolerate that?

“This is ridiculous.”

See? He couldn’t.

Sharma scoffed and said,

“Do you even understand the true value of Theranos and Newton?”

Success.

As expected, he was an idiot.

“This product isn’t just about convenience and speed. It carries a much greater significance. With Newton, the need for massive laboratories and complex equipment for blood testing disappears. All you need is a device the size of a small printer—it can be easily placed in a grocery store, an office building, or even an airport. No more visits to the hospital. People will be able to get health check-ups anywhere, anytime.”

Then, with a glint in his eyes, Sharma declared,

“In short, a revolutionary decentralization of medical diagnostics is about to begin.”

Decentralization—the exact opposite of centralization.

It means that decision-making, data, resources, and functions are no longer concentrated in a central hub but are distributed instead.

“The world is rapidly decentralizing. Look at the shift from department stores to online shopping, from traditional TV to streaming services, from newspapers to digital media. Theranos is leading the revolutionary decentralization of medical services.”

This conversation revealed an important fact.

It was the key ‘keyword’ that Holmes had used to persuade the board and the wealthy elite.

‘‘Decentralization,’ huh…?’

A fascinating angle.

At the same time, some of the puzzles I had been trying to solve started to come together.

“Decentralization is at the heart of all major shifts in history. Those who fail to keep up with this unstoppable tide will simply be left behind. There are only two choices: actively join the change or fade into irrelevance.”

“So, it’s a form of hedging.”

“What?”

Sharma looked puzzled.

This fool was just parroting Holmes’s words without understanding the deeper meaning behind them.

‘It wasn’t about FOMO.’

I finally figured it out.

Holmes hadn’t persuaded the early investors through FOMO—the Fear of Missing Out.

They hadn’t invested because they were afraid of missing out on a jackpot.

They had invested as a form of hedging.

The word ‘hedge,’ commonly used in hedge funds, originally referred to an investment strategy that mitigates risk by taking an opposite position to offset potential losses.

It’s a risk management method favored by the wealthy.

Think of it like horse racing.

In a race, there’s a champion horse with the highest odds of winning and an unknown dark horse.

Most people who prioritize safety will bet on the champion.

Those aiming for a windfall will bet on the dark horse.

But what do the rich do?

Oddly enough, they bet on ‘both’.

Of course, they put far more money on the champion horse.

But they also invest a reasonable amount in the dark horse, just in case.

It acts as a form of ‘insurance’.

If the champion horse wins as expected, the money placed on the dark horse is lost, but it was merely an insurance fee—no big deal.

But if, by some chance, the dark horse wins?

Even if they suffer losses from betting on the champion, the payout from the dark horse will compensate for it.

That’s the mindset of the wealthy.

Once you accumulate a certain level of wealth, protecting your existing assets becomes more important than making new money.

That’s why they use hedging strategies to spread risk.

‘So… whether Theranos succeeds or fails doesn’t really matter to them.’

For the early investors, Theranos was simply a hedge—an insurance policy against potential changes in the medical industry.

If decentralization truly transformed healthcare, they would be prepared.

If it failed?

Their investment would be written off as insurance costs, and they’d move on without a second thought.

That’s why they hadn’t scrutinized Theranos too closely.

But here’s where the problem arises.

The reputations of those early investors led others to blindly follow suit.

As I pieced these thoughts together, Sharma glared at me.

“You keep trying to point out our shortcomings, but yes—Theranos still has many flaws. However, isn’t it inevitable for innovative technology to have initial defects?”

He was openly admitting Theranos’ weaknesses.

But he wore them like badges of honor.

“Was FaceBook perfect from the start? Not at all. Its revenue model was uncertain, and it faced harsh criticism over privacy issues. But they focused solely on growth, and once they dominated the market, they addressed those shortcomings. If they had waited to build a perfect platform before scaling, would they have succeeded like they did?”

This was ‘FaceBook kin-making’—using FaceBooks’ success as a parallel to justify their own situation.

“A better example would be Space Z. They, too, are leading the decentralization of space travel. For 12 years, they failed to land perfectly time and time again. Yet investment kept flowing in. Why? Because these failures were just part of the necessary trial-and-error of innovation.”

At this point, Sharma looked at me with a smug grin.

“Do you know why Space Z doesn’t go public? Because having too many skeptical investors would be a hindrance. They selectively accept only those with vision. Every rocket failure burns through capital. If they let in short-sighted investors, they wouldn’t be able to take risks. It’s the same for us. Investors full of doubt are just a burden. We respectfully decline investments from such people.”

He was threatening me now.

If I kept nitpicking, they wouldn’t accept my investment.

Well, I had expected this outcome.

‘Not like I need anything else from you anyway.’

I glanced at my wristwatch.

It was already 4 PM.

Turning back to Sharma, I put on a deliberately apologetic expression.

“Yes, I understand. Perhaps I was being unnecessarily critical. If I made you uncomfortable, I apologize. Maybe my perspective was too narrow.”

Sharma, now feeling triumphant, smirked.

“If you don’t trust us, you’re free to withdraw your investment.”

“No, we believe in Theranos’ vision. Of course, we intend to continue our investment.”

I raised my wrist and leisurely checked my watch.

“I think this is a good point to conclude today’s due diligence.”

“…Already?”

Sharma looked visibly surprised.

I flashed him a confident smile.

“As I said earlier, I trust you.”

Truthfully, I had always planned to wrap up around 4 PM.

Because at 6 PM, I had an important appointment—

The charity gala.

Where I would finally meet Theranos’ board members.

And the information I had just extracted from Sharma?

Would be invaluable for that meeting.

I turned to Sharma with a sincere smile.

“Thanks to you, I’ve gained some valuable insights today. Truly, thank you.”