A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook-Chapter 167

Recently, I had strongly felt the necessity of securing an exclusive space for the upper class.

However, prestigious clubs with long-standing traditions, such as the Metropolitan Club, operate under strict membership recommendation systems, making it impossible for me to join at my current status.

So, I found a place where I could become a member through an application process and decided to set up my meeting there.

Thus, at 2 PM the next day, I stood in front of the Core Club building.

This place was known as a gathering spot for young elites.

“Mr. Sean, please follow me.”

An employee who recognized me at the entrance spoke in a composed voice.

Following his guidance, I stepped into a private passageway.

This passage was a designated route leading to the private suites, designed to allow movement without drawing the attention of other members.

At the end of the corridor, a concierge stood upright and greeted me.

“Your companion has already arrived.”

As the door opened smoothly, Rachel came into view.

But the moment I saw her, my steps halted involuntarily.

‘So this is how she looks usually.'

Rachel, who had recently left Goldman, was dressed casually in jeans and a light jacket instead of the usual two-piece suits she always wore.

Since I had only ever seen her in formal business attire at the company and the Castleman Foundation, her casual look felt rather unfamiliar.

Yet, even without any effort to dress up, Rachel naturally drew attention.

Without flashy accessories—perhaps because of it—her unique aura stood out even more.

“You’re here?”

I snapped back to my senses and greeted her with a smile.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“No, I just arrived a bit early…”

Rachel glanced around, looking slightly uncomfortable.

It seemed that the atmosphere of the Core Club felt a bit overwhelming for her.

‘Does it look too extravagant?'

Rachel was someone who fundamentally refrained from making hasty judgments about others.

However, it was necessary to be cautious about giving off the impression of excessive indulgence.

Nobles tend to be wary of those who are easily swayed by money.

“I’m sorry for calling you to such a troublesome place. Lately, with all the public attention, it hasn’t been easy for me to meet people outside.”

As the Allergan media campaign intensified, I had been appearing in the press three to four times a week.

As a result, more people had started recognizing me, making it nearly impossible to meet in an ordinary café or restaurant.

In other words, choosing this location wasn’t about luxury—it was an unavoidable decision.

“Would you like to place an order now, or should I come back later?”

“Let’s order first.”

Since it hadn’t been long since I had lunch, I ordered just a drink and a dessert.

Feeling thirsty while waiting, I looked for water and noticed a bottle of Svalbard water on the table.

‘As expected, very meticulous.'

This water, sourced from Norwegian glaciers, is known as the purest in the world.

Taking a sip, the crisp and refreshing taste filled my mouth, leaving a lingering freshness.

As I savored the aftertaste, our desserts arrived.

‘The quality of the desserts isn't bad either.'

The Dom Pérignon Rosé sorbet retained its delicate champagne aroma while delivering a lively flavor.

The Kopi Luwak crème brûlée, made with one of the world’s rarest coffees, lived up to its reputation with its rich and aromatic taste.

“So, it looks like we’ll be able to hold a special exhibition next month! I’ll send you an invitation too, Sean!”

As I enjoyed my dessert, I listened to Rachel talk about her recent activities.

When the conversation naturally shifted toward galleries, I cautiously brought up the main topic.

“Speaking of exhibitions, I heard that Gagosian Gallery is holding a private one this week.”

“Oh? Are you going too, Sean?”

A small smile formed on my lips at Rachel’s question.

The way she said “too” indicated that she had also been invited.

It was the very exhibition that Carl Icahn would be attending.

‘That’s a relief.'

If I asked Rachel to take me as her plus-one, she would likely agree without hesitation, given her personality.

I replied with a slightly bitter smile.

“No, I wanted to go, but unfortunately, it’s invitation-only…”

But this time, Rachel’s response was unexpected.

Normally, she would have immediately asked if I wanted to come along.

Instead, she clapped her hands, eyes sparkling.

“You like Firelei Báez too, Sean?!”

“……”

“She’s incredible, isn’t she? She’s already getting a lot of attention, but she’ll be even more popular in the future! Her colors are so intense they take your breath away… and every piece tells a story!”

‘It seems like she completely ignored what I said.’

The moment I mentioned the artist’s name, all of Rachel’s attention shifted to that topic.

She didn’t even seem to register that I had said I wasn’t invited.

“But didn’t you say before that you weren’t really interested in art, Sean? If even you find her work intriguing…”

I could easily pretend to be a devoted fan of this artist.

But that would be a rookie mistake.

‘If I get caught, it’ll have the opposite effect.’

To the wealthy, trustworthiness is crucial.

Rather than a harmless lie, extreme honesty would serve me better.

“I’m sorry, but as I mentioned before, I’m not really into art. I just heard this artist’s name for the first time today.”

“Huh? But…?”

Rachel tilted her head in confusion.

She seemed to be wondering why I would bring up the exhibition if I didn’t even know the artist.

“To be honest, there’s someone I really need to meet at that exhibition—because of this campaign.”

“Oh… I see, for work…”

A faint hint of disappointment flickered across Rachel’s face.

“So that’s why you contacted me…”

We had promised to meet again after our last encounter in Philadelphia, but I had kept postponing it for over a month, using my busy schedule as an excuse.

And now, the first meeting I set up after all this time was to ask her to take me to an art exhibition for work.

Even if Rachel was generous, she couldn’t possibly feel good about being so blatantly used.

‘She must feel like she’s just being taken advantage of.'

It wasn’t outright displeasure, but a clear sense of dissatisfaction showed on her face.

I let out a bitter chuckle.

“I must seem… quite shameless, don’t I?”

“Huh? No, that’s not…”

“I know. It’s not great to only reach out when I need something.”

I spoke with a self-deprecating smile, as if I found my own actions laughable.

With a slight tone of disillusionment.

“I know it sounds like an excuse, but I really did want to reach out a few times. It’s just… I never found the time…”

At this point, I let out a deep sigh.

“I thought I was confident… but managing a $12 billion fund as someone inexperienced… the pressure is immense.”

Yes.

For someone who had just launched their first fund, this moment was a crucial first step.

The weight of it was anything but light.

“On top of that, so many people are watching…”

I clenched my fist.

Trying to hide my anxiety, but making it clear that I couldn’t fully suppress it.

“That’s why this campaign… must succeed no matter what.”

Would this be enough?

“Don’t push yourself too hard. No one is perfect from the start.”

Rachel’s expression softened as she tried to console me.

That meant my act had worked.

But I couldn’t stop here.

What I needed wasn’t sympathy—I needed Rachel’s full cooperation.

And the best way to achieve that was clear.

“This campaign must succeed. We cannot allow Valeant to absorb another company.”

I looked straight at her and spoke with a hint of anger.

“Valeant is a corporation that exploits its acquisitions by hiking drug prices to absurd levels. No matter how much profit matters, raising the cost of rare disease treatments by 1,000% is inhumane.”

“What? 1,000%?!”

Rachel’s eyes widened in shock.

As someone who had worked closely with rare disease patients at the Castleman Foundation, this would hit her differently.

“That’s unbelievable! Those patients rely on those drugs as their only hope…!”

“Exactly. We can’t let a company like that keep growing.”

Yes.

My obsession with winning wasn’t just about ambition.

It was about doing the right thing.

And with such a cause, Rachel would be eager to help.

Sure enough, her expression hardened with resolve.

“So, who is it you need to meet at the exhibition?”

Her voice carried genuine determination to assist.

Without hesitation, I answered.

“Carl Icahn.”

“Oh!”

“Do you know him?"

“Yes, I've met him a few times."

As expected, the world of the top 1% was small.

I didn’t bother hiding my intentions and asked directly.

“In that case, could you introduce me to him?"

Having Rachel approach him would be much more advantageous than doing it alone.

However, her expression darkened for a moment.

“Huh? That’s…”

Something felt off.

Why was she looking so troubled?

“Is it too much to ask?"

“No, it’s not that…”

Rachel hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Actually, I already have someone I’m going with."

The invitation included a plus-one.

That meant she could only bring one companion.

Of course, they wouldn’t turn away an extra person outright, but showing up like that in front of Icahn wouldn’t be appropriate.

In the end, I needed to persuade Rachel to change her companion to me instead.

“Is there… any way to make it work? Honestly, you’re the only person I can ask."

This was a request for a good cause.

And knowing our dear princess, her choice was predictable.

As expected, Rachel gave an awkward smile and answered.

“No, it’s not that it’s difficult. Of course, we can go together. It’s just… there might be some backlash."

“Backlash?"

“The person I agreed to go with… is Gerard."

***

“I’ll talk to Gerard and get back to you.”

That was what Rachel said before we parted ways.

‘Gerard… That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.’

Rachel’s older brother—handsome in appearance but notoriously rigid in personality, often a headache to deal with.

It had been a while since I’d heard about him, but I had no particular desire to see him again.

“Oh! And this, too…”

Rachel rummaged through her bag and handed me a small rectangular object.

“Take a look.”

It was a USB drive.

“I thought you seemed disappointed last time when you couldn’t meet Jane…”

Jane was a Castleman patient participating in the Phase 1 clinical trial.

I had tried to meet her during my visit to Philadelphia, but I had to cancel at the last minute due to a meeting with Ackman.

“You really wanted to meet Jane, didn’t you, Sean?”

That was true.

I needed to see every patient in person.

I had to meticulously record their side effects and symptoms and compare them with the ones I had experienced before my regression.

That was the only way to identify common symptoms in Castleman patients who needed a third treatment option.

“I figured you wouldn’t have the time to travel to Philadelphia given your current schedule… So I got David’s permission and the patients’ consent to prepare this.”

What exactly had she prepared?

“You’ll understand once you watch it."

I nodded and returned to my office to check the USB.

Inside were five video files.

They were interviews with Castleman patients, including Jane.

I clicked on the first file, the one labeled with Jane’s name.

On the screen, Jane appeared—a young woman in her twenties with striking red hair and freckles, exuding an air of confidence.

[Jane, why don’t you say hello to the camera?]

[Uh, this feels awkward. Hi, Sean! I’m Jane Crosby. I heard this clinical trial only started because of you…]

It was a video message.

‘Why would she even…?’

Honestly, I couldn’t understand Rachel’s way of thinking at times.

[They told me you wanted to meet me, Sean. Rachel said you were disappointed we couldn’t meet… Thank you for your support.]

I hadn’t gone there to encourage her.

All I wanted was data.

[Shall we begin?]

The video continued with a familiar procedure.

Rachel explained the potential side effects.

Checking the playback time at the bottom of the file, I saw that it was over two hours long.

‘I don’t need to watch all of this.’

But I decided to watch a bit more.

Since I had a rare opportunity to review a patient’s video, there might be some extra details I could pick up.

It might not be much, but subtle hints—like complexion changes, pupil movements, or slight breathing irregularities—could help me infer symptoms.

As I meticulously analyzed Jane’s expressions on screen, Rachel continued to explain the risks.

[Jane, you have an underlying heart condition, which makes this particularly dangerous for you.]

[Yes, I know. But I still have to try.]

Her eyes reminded me of Dylan’s.

The determined gaze of a soldier heading into battle, risking everything on the front lines.

That determination was unmistakable, even through the screen.

‘I should stop here.’

I had already gathered enough data.

There was no need to sit through a two-hour video.

However…

For some reason, stopping in the middle didn’t sit right with me.

Rachel had gone through the trouble of preparing this video for me, and shutting it off without watching it fully would be dismissing her effort.

More than that—

‘It would feel like running away.’

I was using Jane’s impending death to extract data.

Naturally, watching something like this made me uncomfortable.

But turning away from that discomfort felt cowardly.

In the end, I left the video playing in the background while focusing on my other work.

Several hours passed.

Ding!

My phone chimed with a new message.

<See you on Saturday at 8!>

It was from Rachel.

But just a few seconds later—

Ding!

Another message arrived.

This time, from an unexpected sender.

<It was you?>

The sender was none other than Gerard.

Apparently, he had started tracking down the reason for his invitation being canceled, and I had been identified as the primary suspect.

‘Let’s just ignore it.’

I had a bad feeling that this was going to turn into something annoying.

But there was no other way.

Giving up on attending the exhibition wasn’t an option.

Meeting Icahn was a necessity.

I had to bring him into my fold to take down Ackman in a spectacular fashion.

‘The question is… can I persuade him?’

Icahn was infamous for his eccentricity.

He was one of the corporate raiders who dominated the 1980s.

Not the type to be easily swayed.

If he were an actor, he’d be like a legendary veteran known for his difficult personality.

Would someone like him really form an alliance with a rising rookie like me?

‘Why would he?’

Yet, I needed to forge an alliance with Icahn.

Given his personality, I would only get one shot.

That meant I couldn’t afford any mistakes.

And so, with Rachel’s video still playing in the background, I meticulously crafted my strategy to persuade Icahn.

As time passed, Saturday finally arrived.

The day of the showdown.