Selling a Cure-All
In some ways, it was a lot like crypto.
People said crypto was just gambling with extra steps, after all.
At least this is still stocks.
Unlike crypto, there was no Bitcoin serving as a fixed point of reference. Every individual stock moved differently.
Which meant you had to choose well.
And the criterion for that choice wasn't the company's technology.
"During the Three Kingdoms period, the nobles of Baekje treated smallpox with hot spring baths."
It was the CEO's talent for management.
That was why he had come here today — to confirm it.
Mun Tae-hwan, CEO of Baekjezen, stood at the podium delivering a fiery lecture.
Snake oil salesmen have always had a way with words.
And what were those snake oil salesmen selling? That hadn't changed one bit, then or now.
If it was a cure-all, the bullshit flowed freely.
The spectators knew it too, deep down. They'd all heard somewhere that it was pure black lies.
"King Wideok, the twenty-fifth king of Baekje, suffered from smallpox as a child, and records show he recovered after bathing at Gunam Hot Springs. Our company name, Baekjezen, is taken from that very history!"
And yet they fell for it anyway.
Listen to that immaculate explanation long enough and even you found yourself nodding along without realizing it.
Waaaaaah—!
The shareholders roared. Coming out for the Baekjezen CEO's lecture had been worth it.
See that? Look how well he peddles the medicine.
And it was optimized for Korea, no less. Prod the national pride a little and the men over forty went absolutely feral.
"It's a medicine with real tradition behind it."
"This is exactly why I invested in Baekjezen!"
"So how much has everyone made?"
"……."
A generation so easy to deceive and exploit.
Someday he would con these old men himself and make a killing.
"Why am I telling you all this? As our shareholders already know, Baekjezen is researching a cancer treatment that utilizes the vaccinia virus — the same virus used in smallpox vaccines. I am confident that Pexigon will transform the entire paradigm of modern cancer therapy!"
The man at the vanguard. He tossed out statements like some visionary medical pioneer without the slightest hesitation.
How could anyone hear that and not invest?
If it succeeded, the money would be staggering.
If it succeeded, that is.
"Man, what an incredible person."
"Ah, yes."
"He was developing new drugs with famous foreign professors before he took over as CEO of Baekjezen. This is the man who's going to change Korea, I'm telling you."
The sweet-faced man in his fifties in the next seat struck up a conversation. He seemed to know Baekjezen inside and out.
That he'll change Korea — that much is certain.
The man had tremendous faith. He had no idea that more than half of what that CEO was saying was a lie.
"Pexigon is a treatment whose research began long before even Generect — Baekjezen's predecessor — was founded, and it is currently in the final stages of commercialization. Those of you who follow the newspapers and news will already know that it has received recognition from the academic community, and during the IPO process it received the highest possible technology evaluation grade. Until we can save countless cancer patients both at home and abroad, I ask our shareholders to walk this path with us."
The academic community?
They were just inflating each other.
And technology evaluations at IPO time were slapdash one hundred percent of the time.
That's exactly why no company has ever actually succeeded at developing a new drug.
But the man could talk. Listen long enough and it all sounded plausible — you started thinking maybe, just maybe, it could work.
Waaaaaaaah—!!
The shareholders' cheers rolled through the hall. The man in the next seat was screaming himself hoarse.
"Now all that's left is getting through Phase 3."
"I don't really know much about this — are the odds high?"
"What kind of question is that! That, uh… Scott Eusman, the famous foreign doctor — he's involved in the research too. How could it possibly fail?!"
He believed it with absolute certainty.
The lecture the CEO had spun. The CEO's glittering résumé. All of it was a sales tool.
The truth is there's really nothing special there.
Scott Eusman was well known in the industry — a parasite who never produced real results and just sold his name around.
"So because famous doctors worked on it, it's going to succeed?"
"Of course. CEO Mun Tae-hwan up there giving the lecture graduated from Seoul National University, you know."
Older people believed that kind of thing. They held enormous fantasies about academic pedigree and social status.
What actually matters is ability.
Whether what the person said was true. Whether the data checked out. You had to verify every claim one by one.
They didn't do that.
The principle of authority. Because someone important said it, they accepted it without a shred of suspicion.
Waaaaaah—!!
That was why scams were so easy in Korea.
It had been a valuable opportunity to observe how real investors actually thought.
This is what people are betting on when they invest in biotech stocks.
The CEO whipped up the atmosphere. The shareholders believed it. That was the process by which a company with absolutely nothing received a sky-high valuation.
The better a biotech company (supposedly), the tighter the bond between CEO and shareholders.
Baekjezen could become Korea's greatest pharmaceutical stock.
A restless market.
— Successful Investor Eats Sashimi
— Anyone Thinking of Investing in Baekjezen, Read This
— If Pexigon Development Succeeds Isn't That Huge??
— 2018.05.07 P&L Trend
The KOSPI had been sideways lately — a tedious stretch after a sharp rally.
Crunchy
Would the market climb further? Would it drop again? It was a tense period where neither side could be predicted.
Individual stocks mattered more than ever.
And the theme capturing investors' attention most of late was pharmaceutical stocks.
IPO price 5,000
Current price 25,000
5x in one year without even stopping to breathe
Anyone buying late off the news is gonna get stuck holding the bag
Osung Biologics' unbelievable rise had created a trickle-down effect. Korean biotech companies were drawing attention.
And among them, the stock generating the most buzz was—
If it minimizes side effects on the human body that's a broken OP drug
Baekjezen.
The stock price had soared. The news wouldn't stop talking about it.
Even a prominent politician had mentioned it. Pouring gasoline on a house already on fire.
25,950 KRW▲20,950 KRW (+519.00%)
[Chart of the past year going to Mars.jpg]
Of course the stock had momentum. It stood out even among biotech names.
Now it's inflated 5x with a 5 trillion market cap holy crap
Even the illicit stock manipulators would be too scared to pump it this hard
Expectations swelled. The psychology of the price is going up so there must be something to it.
Of course, there were rational investors too. No matter how they looked at it, something felt off.
Experience. Overwhelmingly more people had lost money buying Korean biotech than made it. And through that process, they learned something.
There were no companies with real technology.
Any investor with a track record already knew that. They didn't touch biotech stocks.
But—
Daily P&L: −5,000,892
Cumulative P&L: ＋11,020,106,974
Rumors started circulating.
Sonik-jwa. The nickname he'd earned by posting his trading records to the community every single day. Lately he'd been expanding his profile with appearances on various securities broadcasts.
And the stock Sonik-jwa had been touching recently—
The way his P&L moves lines up exactly with Baekjezen
Rumors that it was Baekjezen. Given that this was the man who had been calling the market's direction with supernatural accuracy, eyes were inevitably drawn to it.
Expectations for Baekjezen climbed higher.
And then the decisive event that would determine the stock's fate was scheduled.
Would Baekjezen's new drug clear clinical trials?
The big event — with investors' money and lives on the line — was about to begin.