InkBound
patreon
CH1 | DI
🕑 Added 2025-01-26 06:30:02 +0000 UTCBeep, beep, beep
I’m dying right now.
I’m so weak I can’t move a finger.
I can’t even breathe on my own, relying entirely on machines.
Huff, huff, huff
Anyone who’s experienced a respirator will understand.
How terrible it feels.
Even when you breathe, oxygen doesn’t come immediately.
You can only breathe at the pace set by the machine.
It feels like my lungs are being held hostage.
[Here’s the next news. About the rapid collapse of Silicon Valley Bank…]
I opened my eyes at the intriguing news, but all I could see were black spots.
It’s because of bleeding in my corneas.
At least my hearing is still fine.
[It was an unprecedented cash withdrawal. Depositors withdrew a record $4.2 billion in a single day due to the rapidly spreading panic…]
Silicon Valley is in chaos.
Well, it’s no surprise.
There are far too many idiots in the world who throw money around thoughtlessly and then try to recover it.
“Damn it.”
If only my body were fine, I could’ve swept up all that money…
Click
The TV sound cuts off.
Looks like the intern in charge of me has arrived.
This guy uses the reception area of my room as his personal rest space.
“Whoa! Is this a VIP room?”
Looks like he has a guest today.
“What the heck? This couch is more comfortable than the bed in the duty room!”
“It’s $4,800 a day, of course it’s comfortable.”
“$4,800? So, in a year… That’s $1.75 million just for hospital bills? Definitely VIP!”
Yeah, that VIP isn’t dead yet.
I’m paying $4,800 a day, so it’s only fair that they at least leave the TV on… But that thought never becomes words.
I can’t speak because of the tube down my throat.
“Is this the guy? Ha Si-heon?”
“What? There’s an article?”
“No way! Is this even possible? He has a fortune of $470 million at this age?”
“Well, it’s Wall Street.”
Seems like they found the article in Forbes titled 40 Under 40 in Finance, featuring me.
It lists my personal assets at $470 million.
That’s over 600 billion won in Korean currency.
“So what’s the use? There’s no one beside him even as he’s on the brink of death.”
Well, I can’t exactly argue with that.
But it’s not because I lived a reckless life.
Most people on their deathbed are surrounded by family, but I have no one because I’m an orphan.
I don’t even have relatives.
About 20 years ago, my father immigrated to the U.S. with just me.
“Sigh, guess money doesn’t bring happiness after all?”
What, do you think money’s some kind of genie?
Money isn’t a magic artifact that grants wishes.
It’s just a medium used to exchange ‘goods or services’ with ‘measurable value.’
Of course, happiness can’t be bought with money.
It can’t be measured, it’s not a product or service, and it can’t be exchanged.
“So, what happens to this guy’s fortune?”
“He’ll probably donate it somewhere. Can’t take it with him when he dies.”
That’s another dumb statement.
You can take money with you after you die.
All you have to do is burn it with you.
You just wouldn’t have any use for it, that’s all.
I was planning to donate it…
But hearing them say that annoys me.
That attitude of “it’s only natural to give it back to society since you can’t take it with you.”
There’s no sense of gratitude.
‘Guess I’ll have to revise my will.’
I’ll write, “When I die, turn all my assets into cash and burn them with me.”
Some people might curse me for it, but so what? It’s my money.
That’ll create a $600 billion hole in the market.
Everyone will feel my absence keenly.
Just thinking about it feels exhilarating.
But right now, it’s impossible.
In a state where I can’t even breathe on my own, there’s no way I can revise my will.
What a shame.
Why didn’t I think of this before I was on my deathbed?
I love money.
Who doesn’t, but in my case, it’s a bit extreme.
If my asset graph dips, I can’t sleep. Sometimes I even struggle to breathe.
Yeah, it’s kind of pathological.
So I went to see a specialist.
[You’ve been through too many drastic changes in your life. The desire to control your life is manifesting as an obsession with money.]
Hmm, maybe.
My life hasn’t been ordinary, but I’ve never felt particularly miserable or desperate. More importantly…
[I’ve already succeeded. Why would I be obsessed with money now?]
[The answer must be found by yourself. I am merely a guide. Is this time next week alright with you?]
The expert prescribed two counseling sessions per week with a warm gaze and a voice full of trust.
It was a very smooth flow.
[This place does good business.]
So, it made me trust them even more.
You know how chefs in busy restaurants tend to be more skilled?
So, thinking I’d give it a shot, I explored my past with this expert, who charged $152 per hour.
The beginning of my life was unremarkable.
I was born in December 1984, in Seoul.
My father worked at a large corporation, and my mother was beautiful and caring.
It was a life as boring as the first sentence of a sample self-introduction essay.
The change came when I was in the fourth grade.
My father, who I rarely saw, came to school one day.
“Listen carefully, Si-heon. Your mom…”
It was a car accident.
One of those unexpected tragedies that claimed thousands of lives each year.
For young me, it was a devastating shock, like the world collapsing.
But I didn’t have time to grieve.
“Si-heon, do you have a dream?”
After seeing his wife passed away at a young age, my father began contemplating all sorts of things.
“Dad’s dream was to become the boss.”
My father resurrected a long-buried dream and forced it back to life.
It was the time when the internet was just becoming popular.
“In the future, emails will replace letters, online newspapers will replace paper ones, and online media will rule over TV.”
My father made this grand prophecy, quit his job, and jumped into the world of startups.
He seemed to envision a platform that would rival Naver… but the timing wasn’t good.
It was 1997.
The IMF financial crisis.
If this were a drama, a dramatic development might have occurred here.
Evil corporate raiders baring their fangs, and my competent father fighting a desperate battle to save his company, only to meet an unjust death.
Barely surviving, I would dream of revenge and reclaim the company. Something along those lines.
But reality was dull.
My father’s business wasn’t in a field that required huge investments, so he simply shut it down at a loss.
Instead, a much humbler and more realistic crisis struck us.
“It’s alright. Dad will find a job soon.”
A son to feed, but no job.
There were no companies willing to hire someone my father’s age in the icy job market of Korea.
Desperate to find work, my father contacted everyone he could, and in the process, he reconnected with an old colleague.
This colleague had left a few years ago and settled in Silicon Valley.
“Korea has no future. Come over here, it’s paradise!”
My father, after some quick deliberation, made a decision.
There were no job prospects in Korea.
But in Silicon Valley…
“I can still achieve my dream!”
My father put in every effort to revive that dream.
His colleague fanned the flames.
“Trust me! I’ve set everything up for you!”
If this were a drama, my naive father might have believed his boastful friend and ended up with nothing.
But reality was different.
His colleague actually had some decent connections, quite a few investors showed interest, and my father did well for a while.
At least, the house we moved into was quite spacious.
But… once again, the timing wasn’t good.
It was 2000.
The dot-com bubble burst.
The reason my father had been doing well briefly became clear later on.
He had benefited from the bubble.
But eventually, the bubble burst, investors closed their wallets in panic, and my father couldn’t secure funding in the next round and had to sell the company.
The company sold for a low price, but it had been inflated by the bubble in the first place, so there wasn’t much to complain about.
My father ended up with enough money to buy a laundromat and a house, and we moved to a small town in Pennsylvania, where citizenship would be easier to get.
Though we didn’t suffer financially, the problem was my father’s mental state.
“What business? If only I had stayed with the company…”
My father was from a small rural village in Hapcheon, South Gyeongsang Province.
When he got a job at a large corporation, people used to say he was a dragon rising from a small stream.
But now, this dragon, having ascended, was running a laundromat in a foreign land. How could he find any motivation?
My father always seemed gloomy, and whether it was the stress or something else, he was diagnosed with cancer not long after, and within just a year, he passed away.
His will contained one wish.
“Make sure you become a doctor.”
“What’s the salary like?”
“… …”
“I know it’s high-paying, but if I’m going to dedicate my life to it, I need the exact amount.”
By this point, I had already become a money-driven person.
It’s not an excuse, but let’s think from my perspective for a moment.
All of this happened between when I was leaving elementary school and graduating high school.
During my sensitive teenage years, I went from being the son of a CEO to the son of an unemployed man, to losing the only family I had at the age of 19 in a foreign land.
Would life have gone this badly if we had had more money?
My father looked at me with pity.
“If you become a doctor, you won’t be swayed by the times and will always be respected by people.”
Well, being a doctor didn’t seem bad.
The stability was somewhat appealing.
“If it’s plastic surgery, I’d be okay with becoming a doctor.”
My father didn’t seem too convinced, but I kept my promise.
I studied like crazy in college, and after fierce competition, I got into a prestigious medical school.
Studying wasn’t fun, but as I memorized medical textbooks as thick as encyclopedias, I never once regretted my decision.
That is, until I went on my first practical training.
“Why do you guys want to be doctors, anyway?”
The tone of the seniors I met at the hospital was somewhat ominous.
“Doctors are great, right? They make good money, it’s stable, and they’re respected.”
“Pfft! Respected?”
The seniors, with dark circles under their eyes, each stuck a bottle to their mouths and burst into laughter.
“Who respects doctors these days? If you don’t run tests, it’s negligence. If you do, it’s over-treatment. Make the smallest mistake, and it’s a malpractice lawsuit.”
“Just do such a good job that no one can complain.”
“Hahaha! Our junior here must have watched too many dramas.”
“In reality, doctors don’t have time to properly care for patients. There’s just no time.”
“Ever since the insurance laws changed, most of our time is consumed with paperwork…”
“If a patient isn’t profitable, they won’t even get a bed…”
A few months later, I had no choice but to agree with the seniors’ complaints.
Ridiculous things were happening all over the hospital.
“You want me to perform a stent surgery on an 89-year-old patient?”
“The patient wants it, and we have the responsibility and capability to provide that service.”
“The patient doesn’t understand… I’ll explain it properly.”
“Convincing a patient who wants surgery otherwise is an infringement on their rights and a major hindrance to the hospital’s operations. If you do such a thing, be prepared for the consequences.”
The real power in the hospital was the professional manager.
He frequently interfered in treatments based on profitability, while doctors’ opinions were often ignored.
In this hospital, running like a factory, doctors were weaker than the dollar.
“This isn’t right…?”
Seeing me wandering the halls with a dark expression, some kind seniors approached me.
“Now you get it, right? The days of doctors being revered are long gone.”
“Take a look at this.”
They handed me a survey of current doctors.
In 1970, only 15% of doctors said they would quit if they could.
In 2001, 40% were shouting, ‘I’d quit right now if I could!’ and more than half declared, ‘I won’t let my son become a doctor!’
This change had taken place in just 30 years.
That’s right.
Even being a doctor was subject to the trends of the times.
“I made a mistake.”
Of all people, I had listened to my father’s advice.
The icon of misfortune who only picked the worst timing.
Then, the event that changed my life happened.
[While the entire nation seethed in anger, it was revealed that Goldman Sachs had paid its executives a staggering $240 million in salaries and bonuses…]
It was 2009.
The tail end of the global financial crisis.
The financial villains who wrecked the world with the subprime mortgage crisis.
They were not only being bailed out with taxpayers’ money, but also boldly taking massive bonuses, proving themselves as true villains.
“Damn those f***ing Wall Street bastards!”
“They keep the profits, but we’re the ones paying for their mess!”
While people were pointing fingers in rage, I felt a thrill.
“That’s it!”
I had finally found the place where I needed to be.
Being able to receive huge bonuses even after ruining the world—what a stable job!
Seeing me immediately updating my resume, the kind seniors were bewildered.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“You said there’s no future in being a doctor, right?”
“But quitting for Wall Street? Why?!”
“Why, you ask…”
The IMF financial crisis, the dot-com bubble burst.
During two financial catastrophes, my father was just a pawn tossed around and slapped back and forth.
But.
“Even in a typhoon, the center stays calm.”
“The system is broken! Doesn’t that make you angry?”
“What’s the point of being angry? It’s not like gold will fall from the sky if I do.”
I didn’t want to fix the broken system.
I wanted to be inside it and be protected by it.
Conscience? Justice? Equality?
Let those with the luxury of time worry about those things.
For me, solid ground was far more important.
“You’re insane! You sold your soul for money.”
“I haven’t sold it yet.”
“What?”
“The market’s bad right now.”
I diligently sent out resumes, but the cold winds were blowing even through Wall Street, so it wasn’t easy to get a job.
Well, thanks to that, I had time to complete my MD degree.
And in 2013,
I finally made my way to Wall Street.
[Welcome, everyone!]
The company I joined was Goldman Sachs.
Yes, the very same Goldman Sachs that shamelessly paid huge bonuses without caring about public opinion.
One of the biggest villains of the financial crisis, they said.
That’s when life finally started getting interesting.
TL/n -
Make sure to read An Investor Who Sees Future & Golden Spoon Investor as I'll not be explaining the financial terms I had already explained.
