A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook-Chapter 156

One of my main goals at this summit was to attract investors.

More specifically, to gather institutional investors.

That’s why I deliberately came to the summit and arranged meetings with sovereign wealth funds.

“Because we need anchor investors.”

Every investment destination is like a precarious ship tossed on rough waves.

To get other investors on board, it’s essential to have those who play the role of a strong “anchor.”

Here, an anchor investor literally means an investor who acts as an “anchor.”

These are the ones who stabilize the ship—in other words, the investment target—so others can feel safe boarding it.

To family offices and high-net-worth individuals, old man Kissinger played that anchor role.

Similarly, for other institutions, sovereign wealth funds would play that part.

However—

“Even with an anchor, a black swan and a pandemic… I’m not sure institutions will join in.”

Goldman’s associate expressed concern about whether my strategy would really work.

It seemed this guy didn’t believe in my pandemic theory at all.

‘Well, that’s understandable.’

The pandemic I was predicting here wasn’t going to happen for another five or six years.

It was COVID, of course.

Even for someone who had lived through it like me, it was sometimes hard to believe.

So how would people who hadn’t experienced it react?

‘But what can I do if it’s going to happen for real?’

That’s what a black swan is.

An event that seems highly improbable—but becomes reality.

“Was it really necessary to say that?”

The associate asked with a resentful look.

He was referring to my decision to associate the “20% failure scenario” with terms like “black swan” and “pandemic.”

From his perspective, it probably made no sense.

Why bring up something you don’t need to, and make it worse?

But there was something he didn’t know.

This strategy had to come with that kind of irritation.

Because I was going to post losses of $50 billion over the next ten years.

‘No investor will tolerate that quietly.’

To stick with a strategy that posts continuous losses for ten years?

You’d just look like an incompetent fund manager ignoring a fundamental flaw.

There’s only one way to avoid that misunderstanding.

‘Hit it big once.’

COVID was a disaster, but at the same time, an incredible opportunity.

If I hit that forecast, it’d be no different from profiting massively during a financial crisis.

Once I showed results that one time, everything after that would flow smoothly.

Even if I poured $50 billion into something that seemed pointless, investors would think of it as an investment for “the next COVID.”

“I’m not doubting you, Sean, but a global pandemic like that…”

“You don’t have to believe me. Black swans aren’t easy to believe in, by nature.”

When it comes to black swans, the very fact that they’re hard to believe in becomes a strength.

Ironically, it lends weight to the possibility that I might be right.

The real question is whether other institutions would jump in after hearing such a ridiculous theory…

“A total of 37 institutions participated.”

On the final day of the summit, after wrapping up a tight schedule of meetings with small- and mid-sized institutional investors, the associate reported the results on our flight back to New York.

Apparently, 24 of them had followed the lead of the sovereign wealth fund.

More had joined than expected.

“Well, still within expected range.”

Allocators representing institutions are employees too, after all.

What if a pandemic really did break out and it was revealed that they had known but missed the opportunity?

They wouldn’t have any excuse.

But if the pandemic didn’t happen?

They could just say, “The other sovereign wealth funds were fooled too,” and deflect the blame.

In that case, it would be better for them to at least pretend to invest, as a minimal risk-management tactic.

However, there was a problem.

“…The average investment amount is only $10 million.”

That was a pitifully small amount.

Normally, high-net-worth individuals invest tens of millions, family offices invest anywhere from tens of millions to hundreds of millions, and institutional investors invest from hundreds of millions to several billion.

But an institution putting in just $10 million?

That was like tossing in a single coin.

The associate sighed with a gloomy face.

“We’ve secured $9 billion so far, but then you declared a soft close…”

Originally, we had planned to continue attracting more investors after the summit through a roadshow and such.

But I declared a soft close to apply time pressure.

That meant, from now on, only existing investors could increase their investments.

“You said the target is $11.3 billion. We still need to raise $2.3 billion… Do you really think the existing investors will step up?”

If the existing investors don’t move, we won’t reach the target.

The associate seemed worried about that, but I smiled confidently.

“It’s fine. We still have time.”

“Time…? If I remember right, there’s only about ten days left.”

Just wait until then, and the problem will solve itself.

***

Ten days isn’t a long time.

But the funds already committed through the soft close are being executed as planned, and the remaining $2.3 billion is just waiting idly for the event that’s supposed to happen in ten days.

A minor issue arose.

“I'm bored.”

So, to kill a bit of time, I decided to enjoy one of my hobbies for a while.

And that hobby was…

“A place with six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and eight terraces…”

Real estate tours.

Before the regression, one of my small joys was connecting with luxury real estate agents whenever I had spare time to discover hidden gem properties.

Since I had a bit of unexpected free time, I decided to indulge in my hobby today.

“Besides, it’s about time I moved.”

Now that the fund was independent, my living space should be, too.

“In Manhattan, a penthouse with terraces of this scale is very rare. As far as I know, only three listings like this are currently on the market…”

Smooth explanations flowed endlessly from the agent’s mouth.

This penthouse certainly had a unique charm.

It was close to the office, and the city view through the floor-to-ceiling windows on all four sides was exquisite.

The luxury that radiated from every material used went without saying.

“How much is it?”

“The listing price is 40 million dollars, but for a cash deal, we can negotiate down to 35 million.”

35 million dollars.

That’s about 46.2 billion won in Korean currency.

‘Should I…?’

In a situation where I urgently needed to raise 5 billion dollars to survive, living in such an ultra-luxury penthouse might seem irrational.

But thinking of this as mere meaningless extravagance would be a petty, middle-class mindset.

In fact, for a hedge fund manager, ostentatious consumption was essential.

You could say it’s a kind of strategic marketing.

There’s a reason why successful hedge fund managers buy multiple private jets and collect hundreds of millions worth of artwork.

‘It’s like a maintenance fee for prestige.’

It’s to show that they’re making enough profit to spend this kind of money without hesitation.

No matter how much you boast about good returns, if your lifestyle is overly frugal, it might be seen as a lack of confidence in the future of your fund.

So, a certain level of extravagance was essential to secure basic credibility.

‘The problem is, the timing isn’t great right now…’

Since I hadn’t made any profit yet, it was a bit early to act.

But if not now, I wouldn’t have had the time at all, so I couldn’t complain.

Most importantly, this was a location with steadily rising value, so there wouldn’t be any financial loss.

As I mulled over these thoughts and walked around…

“Can I have a word with you?”

An unexpected person stepped into what might become my new home.

It was none other than Pierce.

“…?”

Noticing that I recognized him, the agent quietly excused himself, sensing the mood between us.

Once the real estate agent was gone, Pierce, who had interrupted my pleasant little hobby, got straight to the point.

“Wouldn’t it be better to withdraw the soft close now?”

Lately, he had been calling me repeatedly with that request.

I kept ignoring him, saying I was busy, so now he had even come in person.

‘How did he know I was here…?’

I even started to wonder if he had someone tailing me.

With suspicion in my eyes, I stared at him, but Pierce didn’t care and just kept talking.

“I went out of my way to introduce you, and now you’re going around talking about black swans and pandemics—of course the institutions are getting nervous.”

Well, Pierce was the one who introduced me to those small and mid-sized institutions.

Considering he came all the way here, I could guess just how much they had been pestering him.

“Let’s say I’m being generous and accept the possibility of a pandemic. But didn’t you say it would happen within a month?”

“You misheard the early signs. I clearly said a pandemic would occur within five to six years.”

Yes, there was a small flaw in my plan.

The pandemic—meaning COVID—was still about five years away.

Pierce scoffed when he heard the timeline.

“Five years… That’s ridiculous. Are we supposed to just wait that long?”

Five years is a long time in the investment world.

Would investors really wait that long?

‘Of course not.’

That’s why a small device was necessary.

Something to reinforce their belief in the middle.

‘Like the upcoming Ebola situation.’

To use a real estate analogy—it was like saying land prices would shoot up to 50 million won.

But investors wouldn’t jump in just hearing that.

However, if the price suddenly surged to 10 million won in the meantime?

“As I said, there will be early symptoms.”

“Oh, you mean that whole thing about widespread pandemic fear within a couple of months?”

“Yes. Soon, the U.S. will be gripped by fear over Ebola.”

Of course, Pierce still had a face that said, “What kind of nonsense is this?”

‘Yep, still doesn’t believe me.’

2014 was the year of the worst Ebola outbreak in history.

Ebola had flared up several times before, but it had always been limited to remote regions in Africa and eventually died down.

But the new strain was infiltrating cities and spreading rapidly.

It started in Guinea and had already spread to neighboring Sierra Leone and Liberia.

It was spreading uncontrollably, and unlike before, the mortality rate was close to 90%, prompting the international community to declare a state of emergency.

Just a few weeks ago, the WHO had even declared it a crisis level.

But most Americans, including Pierce, reacted like this:

“Ebola reaching the U.S. and causing a panic…?”

To Americans, Ebola was a distant issue.

It was a tragedy happening in far-off, underdeveloped parts of Africa.

‘For now, anyway.’

“Fine, let’s say there’s a possibility. But couldn’t you at least present that whole hazmat suit demand thing as a metaphor?”

That was probably the most absurd detail I had thrown in.

Believing Ebola would reach the U.S. was already a stretch—and now hazmat suits, usually reserved for radiation incidents, would be flying off the shelves?

Who would take that seriously?

Pierce was trying to get me to say something more reasonable.

“It’s because it’s hard to believe that we call it a black swan.”

I repeated the same line, and Pierce eventually left with a deep sigh.

Honestly, no one ever believes the truth when I tell it.

***

After Pierce left, feeling irritated, I turned around and headed straight to the office.

The office my company moved into was just a 10-minute walk from home.

It was a premium office space on 57th Street, known as the “Hedge Fund Hotel” because so many hedge funds were gathered there.

Ideally, I would’ve picked a fancier building, but I was pressed for time and had to choose a place we could move into quickly.

I was worried about the “hotel” nickname, but—

‘It’s not bad, actually.’

Especially the view of Central Park from outside my office was breathtaking.

Just sitting there, looking down, filled me with satisfaction.

‘It’s my first office, after all.’

In my previous life, I never started my own fund.

I had thought about it eventually, but back then, I wasn’t racing against time, so I didn’t feel the urgency.

So this was the first office I’d had over two lifetimes.

I was feeling quite sentimental about it.

And as I tried to enjoy the moment at my desk—

“Sean!”

Before I even had time to step in fully, someone came rushing toward me in a panic.

It was Liliana.

“Sean… We’ve received another investor meeting request…”

Dark circles had formed under Liliana’s eyes.

Investors who had missed the summit were now flooding in with calls after hearing about my pandemic theory.

Technically, it was her job as the IR officer to manage all this, but it seemed too much for her alone, so more and more of the work was spilling onto me.

“Didn’t you say you were confident in this kind of situation? That’s why I hired you, if I recall correctly…”

She gave me a pained look.

“I said I had the guts to endure even if Sean did something risky—but I didn’t think you’d spread weird stories like this! Can’t you at least leave out the hazmat suit part?”

“Convincing them of that is your job.”

“This is way above my pay grade!”

Liliana looked around the office, trying to get support from the others.

Around twenty employees on the open floor were watching her.

“Come on, be honest! Do you really believe people are going to walk around in hazmat suits because of Ebola? Can you actually convince investors of this?”

People looked awkward at her plea.

Even if they agreed with her, they probably couldn’t say it out loud in front of their boss—me.

Meanwhile, the only person enjoying this situation was Gonzalez, who was sipping coffee.

Right beside his desk sat a full hazmat suit.

As soon as I mentioned the suit, Gonzalez had gone out and bought one, placing it in the office.

From time to time, he’d sip coffee while watching Liliana’s face as she looked at the suit.

‘That guy’s no ordinary man either.’

Anyway, after pleading for a while, Liliana eventually gave up and muttered in defeat.

“Ugh, fine! I’ll just be the idiot!”

I offered her some comfort.

“Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”

There wasn’t much time left before my ridiculous prophecy became reality.

And my prediction hit the mark.

That evening, this headline lit up the news everywhere:

<Ebola Virus, First Confirmed Case in the U.S.>

The premonitory sign I had been waiting for had finally appeared.