Street 19

Ongoing

Street 19

After observing for hours, one thing is certain: I've been caught in a power struggle. 

A few days ago, "Rhino" barged into Pierce's office, and that conflict has since spilled over into the betting scene. 

As a mere underling, I've essentially become a shrimp caught between two whales. 

Of course, I have no intention of quietly offering up my back, as the saying goes. 

"Not everything about this is bad," I remind myself. 

My goal has been clear from the start: spread the word that Ha Si-heon is the brilliant newcomer among Wall Street's elite. 

For a while, I staked my paycheck as betting capital to make some noise, but it got stale after a few days. 

Just as I was beginning to worry about the waning attention, the whale fight conveniently rolled in. 

What's the most entertaining thing in the world? 

Watching fires, and watching fights. 

And in that sense, a whale fight is the perfect spectacle. 

Interest in the bet has surged, and more people are seeking me out. 

But meeting them too easily would make me look cheap, so I stepped out. 

My chosen spot? A nearby panini specialty shop. 

"Your Verona Panini is ready!" 

I sat at a table far from the window and started on my panini. 

The savory salami and perfectly grilled peppers melded beautifully. 

A true palate reset—better than in a past life. 

By the time I'd polished off the panini, it was 7:30 PM. 

From 7 to 10 PM, investment banks are at their quietest. 

So, during this window, I have to be outside. 

But to avoid reproach for slacking off, I need a legitimate excuse. 

"Could I get a lobster roll, please? To go." 

I ordered a new sandwich and took a single bite as I stepped outside, then made my way toward my next destination: the hospital emergency room. 

I tore at my shirt, rolled up my sleeves, and headed to the registration desk. 

"I have a shellfish allergy…" 

Red spots were already forming on my arms, and my breathing had a faint wheeze. 

It's a bit risky, sure. 

But I won't die from this. 

All investors know one truth: there's no such thing as a safe path in this world. 

Even if there were, that path doesn't pay. 

To make money, you don't avoid risk blindly—you control it to a manageable level. 

In this case, by provoking an allergy near a hospital. 

This is risk management. 

With good management, risk becomes an opportunity for profit. 

This is high risk, high return. 

One shot of epinephrine, and the symptoms quickly subsided. 

Done. 

I sent Jeff a message saying I was at the ER, and now all I have to do is lie on the bed and kill time. 

'Better not use this trick too often.' 

Machines beeping all around, the hospital's distinct medicinal smell—a familiar environment for someone with a medical background. 

Yet, for some reason, my hands and feet are turning cold. 

Memories of lying in wait like a human water balloon waiting to burst surge up, like seasickness. 

"Could it be… PTSD?" 

But running away here is not an option. 

High risk, high return. 

I resisted the urge to dash out and held on firmly until 10 PM. 

"Would you like a receipt?" 

Total cost: $415. 

My mouth tastes bitter, but I can't afford to regret it. 

In investments, returns matter more than expenses.

Now I just have to pull more than $415 worth of value from this.

"I apologize for causing concern. I didn't expect there would be crab meat in the sandwich…"

Back in the M&A department, I handed Jeff my receipt and apologized.

"You don't need to submit this kind of thing."

Lies. Without it, he'd be suspicious.

"Get back to work."

Jeff left for the night, and soon, the first visitor came to see me.

"Are you the new guy in on this bet?"

A man in his mid-30s. People in this age range are usually VPs.

Until yesterday, the people who approached me were low-level employees, but today, someone higher up is seeking me out—all thanks to the whale fight.

"I'm Preston, from the TMT department."

The TMT department handles tech, media, and telecommunications.

"I heard Pierce values you highly, so I thought I'd come by out of curiosity."

He's using the excuse of free time to justify his visit. 

'As if.'

If it were a few hours ago, that excuse might have worked, but not now.

The current time is 11 p.m. A VP with free time would have left by 10.

This guy postponed his departure just to see me. That's the insight I paid $415 to confirm.

"So, what can I help you with?"

I glanced at my computer with a troubled expression.

"Are you very busy?"

"I just got back from the ER. I have a lot of work, but haven't even started."

This was my way of telling him to get to the point. A junior employee shouldn't be so direct with a VP, but thanks to that $415, I can speak my mind.

Reluctantly, he got to the point.

"I heard you're not assigned to a specific team. Once this bet is over, where are you headed?"

How would I know? I'm a contract worker who goes wherever I'm called.

"My preferred department is Healthcare."

"Really?"

"However, M&A is the top department at Goldman. If I'm invited, I have no reason to refuse."

"I see."

As I responded, I watched his face. He tensed up at the mention of Healthcare but looked relieved when I mentioned M&A.

"Actually, I'm also very interested in integrating healthcare with tech. There's a growing trend of services connecting healthcare with cloud technology. Wouldn't it make sense for the M&A department to spearhead such initiatives?"

The man's gaze shifted.

I am the shrimp watching the whale fight up close.

He's clearly trying to read Pierce's intentions through the shrimp's insight.

Of course, I don't know a thing about what Pierce is planning.

"This is just my personal opinion. Sorry, but I really have work piling up…"

Feigning busyness, the VP soon disappeared.

Taking advantage of the moment, I jotted down the information I just extracted in my notebook.

The most important takeaway from that encounter? He asked about my future plans.

He's not interested in what a new hire like me is up to; he wants to know Pierce's intentions.

If I remain here, Pierce will have a medical school graduate under his command.

This implies a high likelihood that I'll continue handling healthcare deals even after this bet ends.

'That's enough for now,' I thought as I focused back on my work.

The next visitor arrived in less than 30 minutes, asking similar questions.

"Actually, my preferred department has always been Healthcare."

"Really?"

In the meantime, my preferred department had changed. Well, young people are naturally indecisive.

"I thought it would better utilize my background."

"Ah, you went to medical school, right?"

"Yes. I've been keeping an eye on biotech firms, and 80% of the ones I marked always end up involved in deals."

"Interesting."

He doesn't believe it at all. That's how things are—no one believes the truth anymore.

Even small bits of information need to be noted down. They'll come in handy someday.

As dawn broke, the stream of visiting VPs dwindled, but then the associates started showing up.

"I heard Pierce has been talking about you. What's up with that?"

"Well, I just got back from the hospital today."

I put my earphones in and furiously tapped at the keyboard, giving off a focused vibe.

Tap, tap, tap!

After visiting the ER, I must look terrible. Not easy to interrupt me like this.

Still, a few persistently tapped me on the shoulder.

"Are you busy?"

I shot them a look saying, "Can't you tell?" to which they responded with a look that said, "I know, but what can I do?"

Right, they don't actually want to be here. They're here on orders from their superiors.

Thus, I should engage them to find out their departments.

The parade of visitors seeking me out continued through the night.

Juggling work and information gathering, the night passed in a blur, and morning arrived with another wave of VPs.

Then, at 10 a.m., an unexpected figure appeared.

"Can we talk for a moment?"

It was my rival, Brent.

Brent deliberately led me outside the office building, wearing a serious expression.

"Do you still want to join our department?"

How long ago was that?

Still, this is valuable information.

Healthcare is now trying to recruit me belatedly.

This suggests that something has changed.

"Is it because of me?"

I conveyed my interest in Healthcare to three people in the early hours.

If that's the reason, it means the departments involved have active exchanges with Healthcare.

"We have a rather large IPO underway in our department. I could assign you to that team immediately."

"A live deal?"

"Yes."

A live deal means an actual transaction—not just pitching for business, but a stage where the deal has already succeeded and is underway.

This means it counts toward performance metrics.

It's rare for a newly hired junior to be assigned to a project like this, so it's a pretty decent offer.

"If you handle yourself well, it can be arranged immediately."

"Handle yourself well"—he's telling me to deliberately lose the bet.

"Well, I'll think about it."

When I indirectly declined, Brent scoffed.

"A nobody without even a department is acting pricey."

"Perhaps you forgot, but this bet has a stake of $110,000. If I'm to give that up, it would have to be worth the cost."

"You'll regret it."

Brent huffed and left.

But he's also in a position where he has to follow orders from above.

Sure enough, within an hour, he returned with a new proposal.

"We could even rewrite your employment contract."

In other words, they're willing to raise my salary.

Seems Rhino is quite desperate, too.

"What do you think?"

It's a tempting offer.

If the circumstances were different, I might've jumped at it.

"Well, I'll think about it."

Once again, I declined.

In truth, I can't accept anything they propose.

This bet is my debut event to make a name for myself.

I can't end it in a hollow, bought-out ending.

"Is this enough?" I wonder.

So far, I've only done one thing: keep stoking the fire.

In a whale fight, every move matters, and here I am, the shrimp in the middle, shifting my words back and forth.

That will only fuel the spectators' chatter and interpretation.

Interest should remain high until the day of the bet.

No issues with spreading the rumors.

So, let's move on to the next stage.

Now I need to focus on the outcome of this bet.

"Beating Brent isn't hard, but…"

Things have gotten a bit tangled.

For now, I should start refusing visitors.

As I lowered the metaphorical shutters and began planning specific strategies—

[Rachel Mosley: Did you have lunch?]

An unrefusable guest has arrived.

Right now, I'm the most popular person at Goldman.

If I go to the company cafeteria, crowds gather around me.

So, I decided to have steak at a nearby restaurant with Rachel.

"I heard it's a battle between two factions, with you caught in the middle…"

Our princess seems worried about me.

She eagerly chatters, filling me in on the company's internal affairs.

Two MDs are at odds, and every department is lining up behind one whale or the other.

Of course, I already know that.

My notebook even has notes on which department supports whom.

"Actually…"

Rachel glanced around, then leaned forward and whispered in a low voice.

"There's talk of appointing a new executive, and both of them are candidates."

That I didn't know.

Indeed, the elite get access to different information.

An MD who wants to stay on her good side must've told her, "Just for you."

"A fight for the executive position… Was this always in the works?"

I'm not sure.

In my past life, I was just a lowly slave, busy trying to adapt to my tasks at this time.

Still, I know how this conflict ends.

Six months later, when I transferred departments, Rhino wasn't in Healthcare anymore.

Pierce was in M&A, and the one who became an executive in my past life was Rhino.

"Now it makes sense."

Rhino must have pulled some strings and delivered impressive results, but this time, it seems Pierce has caught on.

Plus, there's an executive position at stake.

No wonder the two whales are going wild.

Feeling a bit relieved, I focused on my meal.

It's the first beef I've tasted since coming back to life.

It wouldn't be polite to eat it half-heartedly.

The resistance of the meat against the knife, the red juices pooling lightly on the plate…

As I bit into the thick piece of steak, savoring the joy of a flavor reset, Rachel gave me a sidelong glance.

"Why are you so calm, Sean?"

"Being anxious won't change anything."

A fund manager, above all, must be unemotional.

Who would trust their wallet to someone whose hands tremble with every crisis?

"Phew, I feel like I'm the only one worried here."

I could sense her frustration in her sigh.

This is a bit problematic.

Our meetings should always be pleasant.

"Actually, I do have a plan in mind."

She perked up her ears at my words, looking adorable.

I fixed my gaze on the plate, feeling like I might get too attached if I looked at her too closely.

Remember: Rachel isn't just a woman; she's a client who could bring in a billion dollars.

I'm the wise fund manager handling that money.

So, here, I'll go with the vibe of a sage master.

"There's a saying from my hometown: 'When whales fight, the shrimp's back gets broken.'"

As you know, a sage master communicates in riddles.

"No matter how hard the shrimp swims, it can't escape the battlefield. And it's not like the shrimp can lead the whales elsewhere. So, what should the shrimp do in that situation?"

While Rachel hesitated, I took the last bite of steak.

After wiping my mouth with a napkin, it was time to reveal the answer.

"If you can't change the picture, then change the story. Instead of saying the shrimp got caught in the whales' fight, make it seem like the whales are fighting over the shrimp."

"Is that… possible?"

I've already done half of it.

One of the whales is already trying to recruit me.

But if I reveal everything, I'll have nothing to talk about next time we meet.

"You'll see soon enough."

I gave a wise, Eastern sage-like smile.

It seemed like a good ending, but there was still a hint of dissatisfaction on Rachel's face.

"It feels like I'm the only one who worried."

"That's not true. I have my concerns too."

"Yet you look so relaxed."

I can't help but be relaxed.

I'm from the future, after all.

I know which companies are promising and which companies are involved in which deals.

I'm moving with all the answers in hand.

I even have the rare fortune of knowing which drugs will squeeze through the FDA's eye of the needle.

In short, this level is a breeze for me.

But even with a breeze, there are still considerations.

Right now, my biggest question is this:

'How much should I breeze through?'

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