A Wall Street Genius's Final Investment Playbook

Chapter 90

“Sean, you're here?"

A familiar voice echoed in my ears.

When I turned my head, Rachel was approaching me with a gentle smile.

Behind her, I also saw David's fiancée, Jessie.

"Since when…………."

"We arrived yesterday. We had a conversation with Amelia, and we needed to discuss important matters with the attending physician…"

It was only then that I realized these two had been in the room from the beginning.

I was so preoccupied with the patient that I hadn’t noticed their presence.

Today, we planned to administer off-label rapamycin to Amelia.

Off-label.

It referred to administering a drug for a purpose other than the one approved by the FDA.

Rachel was a ‘patient advocate’ who ensured that patients were not recklessly subjected to Russian roulette and that their rights were protected.

Her duty was to inform the patient in detail of all risks associated with the treatment and to confirm that participation was voluntary.

Therefore, it was only natural for Rachel to be here.

A moment later, Amelia's husband, Joel, and a doctor in his late forties entered the room.

David welcomed the doctor warmly and introduced him to me.

“Sean, this is Professor Julian Blake.”

Professor Blake was David’s attending physician. He was already well aware of how hopeless Castleman disease was and was assisting David in attempting off-label medication.

Fundamentally, he was a doctor who was on our side.

Knowing that, Amelia had also transferred to this hospital.

However, even Professor Blake was skeptical about Russian roulette.

I had asked him to help only in Amelia’s case, but he still had a grim expression.

"David, I’ve told you multiple times, this is a dangerous attempt. If it were just your choice, that would be one thing, but to urge other patients to make the same choice…"

"You’ve seen the re

It was like driving a car on the road for the first time—no insurance company would be willing to cover it.

Thus, I had to personally bear all the costs related to potential side effects, examinations, and treatments for Amelia.

I had promised to cover all those expenses.

Rachel was saying that she found that decision surprising.

"Sean, you’ve always emphasized that only results matter. But this doesn’t seem related to clinical results…"

"That’s not entirely true. While it won’t be included in the official report, it will still serve as valuable data. It will help us gauge whether the drug shows efficacy even in terminal patients."

"…"

"What is it?"

"Nothing…"

Rachel paused briefly before sighing and continuing.

"I think you need to be more careful with how you phrase things, Sean."

"Sorry?"

"When you talk like that, people might misunderstand and think you’re only doing it for the data."

"Oh, is that so."

"If you do something good but get misunderstood because of how you say it, wouldn’t that be unfortunate?"

Normally, I would have chosen my words more carefully, but today I was too tired to bother.

Or perhaps I simply didn’t want to dress up my motives.

I couldn’t bring myself to say, "I did this for Amelia."

Saying something like that would’ve felt like inviting divine retribution.

The truth was, my support for this Russian roulette was driven by purely selfish motives.

I was doing it solely for my own survival.

But that wasn’t all.

In fact, I was secretly hoping this attempt would fail.

The rapamycin we prescribed was only the second treatment option for Castleman disease.

It was a drug that hadn’t worked for me.

What I needed was the unknown third treatment.

To find that, I first had to identify patients with symptoms identical to mine.

The unlucky ones for whom even the second treatment didn’t work.

Gathering them would allow me to spin another round of Russian roulette, opening up my path to survival.

"Sean, it seems like you’re particularly averse to being seen as a good person."

That’s because I’m not a good person.

"If all you wanted was the data, there was no reason to personally visit today, was there?"

I didn’t come here to cheer Amelia on.

She might be risking her life for me, and it felt too cowardly not to face her.

There’s a clear difference between the two.

"Amelia and Joel were deeply grateful for your support."

A bitter smile escaped me.

That’s only because they didn’t know the truth.

"Do you think they’ll still feel that way if the outcome is death?"

"What?"

"If the worst outcome happens, they might end up blaming me instead."

Rachel seemed momentarily at a loss for words but soon spoke resolutely.

"No, they’ll still be grateful. If the worst happens, it will be sad and heartbreaking, but at least they won’t have any regrets."

Spoken like a true princess, with pure-hearted naivety.

Humans aren’t always so rational.

"And besides, they can’t blame anyone in the first place. Amelia made her choice fully aware of the risks. I spent four hours explaining it yesterday."

Rachel’s explanation had been exhaustive.

She didn’t omit anything, even covering points that seemed unnecessary, and explained everything so clearly that I was concerned Amelia might reconsider.

After hearing all that, would she still be willing to pull the trigger?

"She understood the risks and made her decision. I’m sure of it."

She was right.

Despite Rachel’s exhaustive explanation, Amelia had willingly decided to take the risk.

Separate from my selfish motives, it was undoubtedly Amelia’s decision.

And rapamycin was indeed one of the treatments for Castleman disease, so while it wasn’t the outcome I wanted, there was still a chance it might work for her…

As I kept repeating this justification to myself,

Bzzzz!

Suddenly, my phone vibrated loudly.

The caller was Dobby.

[Sean! Did you see the broadcast?]

"No, I’m on the train right now."

[Don’t you have a streaming service? Turn on CNBC!]

"What is it?"

[The Great White has changed their strategy!]