DeepMind (3)
Seo Seong Securities, Global Headquarters.
The year-end regular meeting was drawing near.
While the other department heads were wrapping up their annual numbers and fretting over next year's portfolios, Seo Minjae was drowning in an entirely different problem.
How do I make this smokescreen look convincing…
AI was still a trend that no one in Korea truly understood.
If I'm going to hide the fact that Lee Jaseung is after DeepMind, this can't look like a Makers-only move. The whole of Seo Seong Securities has to look like it's paying attention to the AI trend.
But how?
Then Minjae hit on a method.
I need to shape the atmosphere so it can feed into next year's portfolios.
Having settled on his conclusion, he gathered the materials he'd prepared and headed for the conference room.
Every department head in the Global Division was already assembled.
Seo Minju sat at the head of the table, her hair pulled neatly back. She glanced at her wristwatch and opened her mouth.
"Everyone seated? The year is almost over already."
The soft greeting quickly gave way to a dry parade of numbers.
Bonds, Equities, Alternative Investments… each department head presented their results, and finally it was Seo Minjae's turn.
"This year the PBS Department generated a total of 48.7 billion won in profit. That's an 87 percent increase year over year, and our global hedge fund client count has broken eleven. Average leverage trading volume sits at around 180 million dollars…"
Seo Minju's expression shifted, just slightly.
The Global Bonds Department had posted 120 billion won in profit this year. A formidable achievement. But that was the product of a decade ground down to the bone.
And PBS? Barely two years.
A newborn department pulling nearly 50 billion won in profit.
The growth is too fast.
Seo Minjae's numbers were, in effect, her numbers. And still she couldn't simply be glad.
Because she knew who was standing behind PBS's explosive rise.
Lee Jaseung has been funneling deals his way. That's the only reason growth like this is even possible.
The other department heads seemed to share the thought. The gazes fixed on Minjae were thick with wariness and envy.
Without Makers, would you have posted numbers like that?
A revenue structure hanging off a single client. Planning to milk one good catch for the rest of your career?
Reading the room, Seo Minju put on a bright face.
"Nearly 50 billion in two years. Most people would still be scrambling just to get their footing. You've worked hard. What trends are worth watching next year?"
"Overall capital flows into global hedge funds have been declining lately, but I've identified one anomaly."
"An anomaly?"
"We've picked up signals that major venture capital firms are concentrating their investments in AI companies. The big VCs are betting aggressively on AI startups."
Manager Kim from Alternative Investments reacted at once. VC deals were his territory.
"AI as in algorithms? Like quant hedge funds?"
Seo Minjae shook his head.
"No. This is different from quant algorithms. These are research-lab startups aiming for artificial general intelligence."
"Ah. That sort of thing…"
The interest drained clean out of Manager Kim's voice.
General AI? Wasn't that the kind of topic you only ever heard about inside a lab?
Minjae had fully expected the reaction.
It does sound like science fiction.
Which was exactly why he needed this. To turn it into a trend rather than Lee Jaseung's solitary move. Only then would the smokescreen be complete.
And Minjae had something—someone—he could count on.
His half-sister, Seo Minju.
Trusting Minju felt a little absurd even to him, but she had changed lately. Gentler. More careful. And for that reason, more frightening—like someone smiling with a knife tucked behind her back.
So this time, too, she would smile.
"Manager Seo, are you looking to include the AI sector in next year's portfolio?"
Minjae answered in the most neutral tone he could manage.
"I thought we might start with a small exposure."
"Is the source of this information Makers? I noticed you provided AI sector materials to their side recently."
Having your division head as your sister was a liability at moments like this. It meant every move he made registered on her radar.
"It's true that Makers is showing interest in the AI sector. But our other clients have been sending similar signals as well."
"Depending solely on Makers is dangerous."
After speaking as if admonishing a younger brother, Seo Minju nodded.
"Fine. If similar signals are coming in from multiple places, we can't simply ignore them. Have each department review the matter once."
The conference room stirred at once.
AI, of all things, shoved into the middle of this critical season?
Global Equities.
"Director, Europe is still in default crisis. Do we have the luxury of turning our eyes to an unproven field like AI at a time like this? We need to secure stability in traditional assets we actually understand."
Global Bonds.
"Europe, yes—but Japan isn't trivial either. Signs that the weak-yen policy is about to kick into gear. This is the moment to rebuild currency-hedge strategy, not chase AI. Manager Seo, aren't you only free to talk like this because your numbers are good?"
Resistance rose around the traditional departments that sat on Minju's line.
Alternative Investments, after reading the room, added a word of its own.
"Go meet the pension funds right now. They're already shying away from real estate and infrastructure deals as too risky. AI? You bring that up and the meeting ends on the spot."
The pushback was exactly what Minjae had anticipated. He managed his expression and watched the situation unfold.
How will Seo Minju play this?
Before, she would have used the resistance as a convenient excuse to bury his proposal. But now—
She would smile.
Seo Minju lifted one corner of her mouth and soothed the department heads.
"But Minjae has delivered results, so he has room to take on risk. You all know PBS is the fastest-growing department we have, don't you?"
And then she would draw the knife.
"I believe experimental opinions like this are necessary precisely in a conservative period like the present. Each department, research the relevant companies and submit your findings."
"Director, we don't have the manpower to review the AI sector on top of everything else in year-end season."
"Don't feel pressured. This isn't full-scale investment—it's trend mapping. I simply hope each of you will use it as a reference when you build next year's portfolios. Of course, it's not mandatory."
"Yes, yes. Understood."
The department heads answered with faces that made no effort to hide their displeasure, as if the division head taking her brother's absurd proposal seriously sat badly with them.
Seo Minjae allowed himself a bitter smile.
She's made me the target.
The director's little brother. A ridiculous AI investment. And yet his results were a shield—no one could attack him outright.
For a while, he would be the public enemy.
The silver lining was that, at least for a moment, an AI wind would blow through the Global Division.
The director ordered it, so they'll look into AI companies whether they want to or not.
And that would naturally form the smokescreen Lee Jaseung wanted.
A few days later, the Makers office.
Having finally uncovered DeepMind's ownership structure, Seo Minjae made a full production of how hard he'd worked.
"I called Silicon Valley correspondents and even college friends working at venture capital firms just to dig this up."
"Stop whining."
It was an unlisted startup—gathering information would have been genuinely difficult. And still, Minjae had delivered.
He grumbled as he sat down across from Jaseung.
"You'll be the one whining soon. This does not look easy."
"How bad is the cap table?"
"They've only done a Series A, and the founder has already given up 40 percent."
"Forty percent? That can't be right."
In a typical Series A, a founder's stake diluted by about 20 percent. This founder had surrendered a full 40 percent just to take the money.
"Big-name funds came in as a pack, so he had to hand over a lot of equity. In exchange he got network and know-how—can't call it a pure loss."
Listening to Minjae's explanation, Lee Jaseung reviewed the concrete ownership structure.
Founder at 60 percent.
Sequoia Capital at 20 percent.
Frontier and Nikola at 10 percent each.
Then his eyes stopped. A familiar name.
"Sequoia's lead partner was Bart?"
"You know him?"
"We met at the tech gala."
"Ah—don't tell me. The champagne?"
"You knew about that?"
"Of course. Chae Eunchae threw a party because she'd made a hundred million dollars. She made a point of sending a cash envelope all the way to Silicon Valley for the jacket."
Exactly the kind of thing Chae Eunchae would do. Jaseung let out a short laugh.
"She really will do anything."
"You going to be all right? Sequoia Capital is probably nursing a grudge."
"Doesn't matter. I wasn't the one who sprayed the champagne."
Jaseung shrugged and moved to the point.
"In a setup like this, there's only one way to pull off a full acquisition."
Their eyes met. They spoke at the same time.
"Drag along."
"Drag along."
A brief smile touched the corner of Jaseung's mouth.
Drag-along rights.
A clause that forced minority shareholders to sell on the same terms whenever a majority holder sold its stake.
In DeepMind's case, the founder held 60 percent. If he decided to sell, the rest had to follow.
Then Minjae raised a finger.
"In theory, you only need to persuade the founder. In practice, you'd walk straight into a lawsuit."
Jaseung's brow furrowed.
A lawsuit brought jointly by Sequoia, Frontier, and Nikola.
That alone would kick up an enormous storm. Big Tech firms like Googol would catch the scent and come running.
Worst-case scenario.
If this turns into a bidding war, I have no chance of winning. It has to be handled as quietly as possible.
"If I step in myself, I become the common enemy. So we approach from the opposite direction."
"Opposite?"
"Internal fracture."
Minjae stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. Jaseung stared back as if to ask what the problem was.
"What? It happens all the time in startups. Investors fighting because their interests don't align."
"It happens. The person who engineers it usually doesn't."
Jaseung chewed on it lightly.
"So who do we touch."
DeepMind's four parties had all gathered for different reasons.
The founder, for the research.
Sequoia Capital, for the money.
Frontier, a big-data company, for synergy with its own business.
And Nikola… for the conspiracy theories.
"Let's start with the easiest person to move."
"Who? The founder?"
"No. People who only see money are easier to move than people who see a vision. Sequoia Capital."
Jaseung glanced at the calendar and jerked his chin.
"Year-end is almost here, after all."
Minjae, who had been waiting for that day himself, understood immediately.
"Ah. Korea, Wall Street, Silicon Valley—year-end is fair to everyone. Annual performance. Industry ranking. Your market value if you jump ship. And the bonus."
Venture capital was a field that tolerated a certain amount of failure because it invested in startups—but losing Instalink had been a clear blunder.
"If an acquirer for DeepMind shows up in front of a Bart who's already nervous about having a whale like Instalink snatched away?"
"He'll bite. It's the last chance to get something onto this year's books."
The timing was exquisite.
"I said the Series A had already closed, right? The valuation at the time was 40 million dollars. What price are you going to put on the acquisition?"
"Hard to say."
Attractive enough that Bart could never refuse—and yet not so extravagant a premium that it became wasteful.
Exactly the efficient midpoint. That was what he needed to find.
"I'll have to think about that from here."
Jaseung lifted his wrist and checked his watch.
Three in the morning.
The answer would be in the future.
A few days later, Sequoia Capital.
An acquisition proposal for DeepMind went out to the investors under the name of Seo Seong Securities.
A knock, and a secretary in gold-rimmed glasses stepped in. Bart grinned and pointed at her.
"New glasses?"
"Yes."
"Contacts looked better on you."
The secretary calmly pushed her frames up with her middle finger and handed him the documents.
"We've received an acquisition proposal for DeepMind from Seo Seong Securities."
"Seo Seong Securities? The Hong Kong side?"
"No. A Korean securities firm."
Korea.
The moment he heard a name he'd become familiar with against his will, an unpleasant memory flashed past.
The Brioni jacket!
His hand went to his lapel of its own accord. In the end he had ordered another Brioni.
That insolent woman. Did she think sending five thousand dollars would make me feel insulted?
As if a cold-blooded investor who weighed only utility and profit would ever be that soft.
He had used the money to commission an identical Brioni and was wearing it proudly every day!
Bart snorted and returned to business.
"I remember. The financial affiliate of the Seo Seong Group. So they're making a real push into the AI sector?"
"Yes. Seo Seong Securities appears to be increasing its AI exposure. The party seeking to acquire DeepMind is also a Seo Seong Securities client—a Korean family office, apparently."
"A Korean family office?"
Something familiar again. This time a man with a cool, austere air brushed through his mind.
"The client information is further down."
The secretary pointed. Bart's gaze followed her finger.
Investing Entity:Makers Family Office
Principal:Lee Jaseung
Broker:Seo Seong Securities, Global Business Division
"Mr. Lee? That's her partner!"
The man who had been Chae Eunchae's partner.
They had exchanged nothing more than a brief greeting at the tech gala. He had never expected the connection to surface again like this.
Come to think of it, there had always been a question.
How did Miss Chae move Facenote? A woman who didn't even have the network in Silicon Valley to get into funding rounds—did this chaebol man help her?
He had thrown every intelligence channel he had at the problem and learned that Lee Jaseung was running a Facenote fund.
Had Jaseung connected her to Facenote?
That doesn't make sense. Facenote's stock dropped 15 percent right after it acquired Instalink. He helped Miss Chae knowing full well it would wreck this year's performance? What, are the two of them in love?
Or else—
Did Lee Jaseung design the whole board from the start? Not simply introducing them, but actually driving the acquisition? But he doesn't even hold that much Facenote stock…
…Was he overthinking this?
The deeper he dug, the more the confusion piled up. In the end Bart failed to uncover the truth and shook his head left and right.
No. This is not the time to be fretting over that.
He quieted his mind. Drew up the cold instincts of an investor.
Sunk costs are forgotten. You can't change what's already past. Focus only on the returns this deal will bring.
He steeled himself and picked the proposal back up.
The moment his eyes reached the acquisition price, the papers slipped from Bart's hands.
"!!!!"
※ This work is a work of fiction. All persons, groups, place names, and events appearing herein are entirely fictitious and bear no relation to anything that exists in reality. Specialized knowledge described in the narrative has also been reconstructed and adapted for the story, and may differ from actual information.