Han Siul Biotech (2): Let's Think This Through
Of course, most people who invest in stocks are dopamine junkies. Especially those who do it for a living.
But that doesn't make stocks themselves a form of gambling.
So what the hell is a stock, anyway?
"Originally, it was just a way for companies to raise investment capital."
Imagine a massively valuable company. Say it's run by some princess, and it's recognized as one of the world's top enterprises, valued at around 1 quadrillion KRW.
But that doesn't mean the company is swimming in cash.
What? A company valued at 1 quadrillion with no money? Come on.
"Realistically, yeah, that wouldn't happen."
A company that size would have cash to spare. But the point is, that astronomical 1 quadrillion figure is just the company's valuation. It doesn't mean they have 1 quadrillion in liquid assets.
To turn that valuation into actual spendable money, they issue stocks. That's called a paid-in capital increase.
"We'll give you this much equity in our company, so cough up the cash to match."
"But you can't just print stocks infinitely."
Like I said, issuing stocks means selling off pieces of the company. Print too many, and your ownership dilutes over time. Founders lose control, outsiders gain power, and shareholders get pissed.
From their perspective, they did nothing wrong, but their 1% stake shrinks to 0.7%. Of course they're mad.
That's why cash-rich companies sometimes buy back their own shares. That's treasury stock repurchase.
Why the boring finance lecture?
"What the fuck? These assholes are printing stocks like crazy?"
The princess isn't an idiot. She has to know mass-issuing stocks causes problems.
...Okay, maybe she is an idiot.
Anyway, this is about Han Siul Biotech, not some princess. Come to think of it, the gallery had been buzzing about Han Siul Biotech nonstop lately. I skipped it 'cause it looked boring.
"Hmm. Looks like it'll keep climbing for a while."
Every Han Siul Biotech headline was massive news. Any one of them would've sent the stock skyrocketing—and they did. It doubled in a week, but given the hype, that was actually underwhelming.
Riding the surging price, Han Siul Biotech was cranking out stocks like mad.
It wasn't that weird, honestly. Entering clinical trials or landing big investments requires cash, and higher stock prices mean cheaper fundraising—fewer shares for more money.
But this was excessive.
"What the fuck, a paid-in capital increase every six months?"
Digging through disclosures, the dates popped up: April, November, June, February.
Biotechs burn cash like crazy—hell, they're called money-eating hippos for a reason. But even accounting for that, six-month intervals were insane.
"Suspicious as hell. Fucking reeks of suspicion."
Even in biotech, it's usually every 2-3 years, max once a year. Han Siul was doing it faster. Meaning they desperately needed cash somewhere...
"For what?"
Tech pipeline looked unchanged—no real clinical trials started yet. If research takes time, why the rush for funds?
Nah, should've maxed out secret loans from dad and pawned the house deed ffs
Could've been the ultimate filial piety play
[Attachment: finger_gesture.png]
🖕🖕🖕🖕 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕
You wanna die for real?
Playing with US big pharma dude
One sharp guy in there. Not systematically analytical like me, but a hundred times better than the sheep. A 2 mil loss might look like pocket change if shit really hits the fan. Though looks like he'll cave and buy in soon anyway.
"...Hmm."
Even if Han Siul has massive issues, what can I do? Post an analysis on the gallery maybe. But who takes some random individual's rant seriously? Especially from a 22-year-old dropout unemployed bum like Seria. No one.
If I were at Silverman Sachs—one of Wall Street's biggest investment banks—even my shitposts would be gospel.
"But regular folks aren't totally cut off from the info."
Han Siul still reeked of money. Can't swallow the whole structure like on Wall Street, but knowing the direction is enough to print cash. Felt good to do real work again.
I climbed down from the bed—avoiding the trash piles that'd piled up—and shuffled to the computer.
"Financials first."
Anyone serious about stocks has skimmed them: quarterly 10-Qs or annual 10-Ks. Korean companies file equivalents. Content doesn't change for retail vs. pros.
"Ugh, business report first, I guess..."
Quarterlies lack external audits, so numbers could be fudged. Started with the annual business report.
These pack tons of info... What the hell is this?
"This is fucking useless."
Format was perfect, no omissions. But MD&A—Management Discussion & Analysis—was a joke. That's where execs explain the numbers' meaning. Financials are just skin-deep without it.
"Fuck, no clue what these results even mean."
Why does it matter? Duh. No explanation? Is that huge revenue from sales or selling the company itself? Who knows.
Staring at the statements, the footnotes jumped out. These aren't casual explanations.
"...Bingo."
Say a company reports $1B net profit. Everyone cheers, "Premium blue-chip!" But buried in footnote 20, sub-sub-note:
[Note 20-3(2)(a). Includes $800M in derivative valuation gains. Maturity conditions uncertain]
Dozens of pages of jargon hides the truth. Tricks even pros. Legally fine—"It's in the footnotes!" Derivative gains mean $800M of that $1B could vanish. What, $800M at risk isn't fraud? If it's legal, it ain't fraud.
The deeper I dug, the messier the footnotes. Han Siul's secrets were hiding there.