038. Now for the Main Round
“I’ll update the action-plan pages based on the slides we’ve already covered.”
“Thank you. Please handle the visuals for the positioning section we discussed as well.”
“Yes, sir.”
My conversations with Seonghun were going remarkably well. Of course, he wasn’t suddenly producing polished, senior-level materials out of thin air, but he had grown to the point where he could support me with a broader perspective than before. Thanks to that, I was able to rely on his active help while putting together our materials for the Startup Competition final round.
“Wow. Before, after Seonghun-nim met with Siwon-nim, he came back with his eyes all swollen, so I thought he was going to quit.”
“Awww, why would you bring that up?”
“Anyway, I’m just glad it didn’t turn out that way and he’s still working hard like this.”
The others were also fascinated by how closely Seonghun and I worked together. Apparently, the way we collaborated as true partners rather than simple support was unusual enough to stand out.
“After this competition ends, you’re going to be swamped running around for investors again, aren’t you, Siwon-nim?”
“Around then, yes. I’ll be going around to ask whether they’re actually interested in investing, and if they look promising, I’ll have to negotiate the contract terms too.”
The startup competition we were entering this time factored in accumulated investment as part of the eligibility assessment. So most of the investment offers we’d recently received were scheduled for meetings during the competition’s final-round week. From a startup’s perspective, it was always best to accept as much government support as you could get.
“Oh. Then will Jae-yoon-nim be busy that week too?”
“For now, they’ll be attending the outside meetings with us. Why do you ask?”
“I just wanted to get a head start on the workload. I have a lot I want to ask for.”
“The details should already be updated in the shared calendar. It’d probably be best to check Jae-yoon-nim’s calendar from there.”
Jae-yoon would still be involved in the coaching for the investment process, but that was a problem for later. Right now, we had to prepare for the competition final standing right in front of us.
“You’re definitely aiming for first place, right?”
“We have to.”
“Then we’d better make a product worthy of that reputation.”
As the company grew and the number of ongoing projects increased, everyone became busier. One team developed the product and handled QA in-house; another took that product and worked on appealing to the market. Split into those two broad groups, our company kept getting busier by the day.
And as a result, the amount of time I had to personally review and approve everything kept shrinking.
“The atmosphere here is seriously intense.”
“Still, don’t you think there are more younger people here than there were in the preliminaries?”
“But it somehow feels even more cold and sterile than last time.”
On the day of the Startup Competition final round, the place really was cold and sterile, just like the others said. No one came up first to greet anyone else, and not a single person laughed out loud.
Everyone was tense, watching one another carefully as if terrified of being caught in the slightest mistake. I wasn’t used to such a quiet atmosphere.
“Seonghun-nim, didn’t you research the candidate companies here? How does it look?”
“There aren’t really any true pre-startups. They’re mostly companies that started once, shut down, and then started again.”
“What about age groups?”
“Pretty varied. We’ll probably be the youngest, but there are a lot of people in their twenties too. The female founder of that all-women team over there is probably my age.”
“And the industries?”
“That’s all over the place too. But there are quite a few IT companies. Two teams making smartphone apps, I think.”
Seonghun had already finished researching every team that had made it into the final round. He’d done it to figure out how much our company’s image overlapped with theirs, and what points we should emphasize to the judges if we wanted to stand out even more. Thanks to that, the faces seated around us had also become somewhat familiar.
There didn’t seem to be any company here that would be working with us anytime soon. Everyone’s behavior was so different from the preliminaries, where people had at least looked at one another more freely.
“But it’s not like we’d get in trouble for talking, is it? And the event hasn’t even started yet.”
“They’re probably worried that they’ll come off as too casual in front of the judges.”
“Rough.”
“If they’re trying to get selected for something like TIPS, wouldn’t the atmosphere be even harsher and colder? At least there are media outlets and teams collecting interview content here, so it’s not completely silent.”
The startup competition we were participating in was the biggest in Korea for early-stage founders and would-be founders. That was why there were so many PR articles, and why so many participant interviews were being filmed and turned into content.
“Hello. I’m Kwon Junghoo, and I’ll be conducting interviews with this year’s Startup Competition teams.”
“Hello, I’m Kim Siwon from TA Medical.”
“Could I ask you all to spare a few minutes for an interview?”
“Yes, of course.”
And just like that, our own conversation time was snatched away in no time at all. It was a little hectic, but it did help take the edge off before the presentation.
“How does it feel to have made it to the Startup Competition final round? I’d also like to hear from the other team members, not just the representative.”
Fortunately, unlike the usual interviews that focused only on me as the representative, he asked the others questions as well, which made everyone look more excited and cheerful than usual.
“The Startup Competition will begin in fifteen minutes. We’d like to remind everyone once again that this event will also be live-streamed online.”
As soon as the announcement came over the speakers, the room began to stir. Everyone seemed to want to treat the remaining time as a final chance to rest properly before they had to lock in completely in fifteen minutes.
“Siwon-nim. Should we print out more of the expected-question list?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just keep reviewing the presentation materials.”
“Coming to a place like this always makes me feel bad that you’re the only one carrying so much of the burden, Siwon-nim.”
“You really don’t need to feel that way.”
What did they mean, “I look toward your side when I get nervous on stage”? It wasn’t like I could do anything about that with words. I only gave them a small smile, those people who seemed packed full of worry on my behalf, and then fixed my gaze on the presentation materials so they could each do what they needed without worrying about one another.
[Just don’t get nervous. Like I said yesterday, the quality of the materials is a lot better than it was in the preliminaries.]
[Thanks.]
Even Badugi cheering me on made this whole situation feel strangely thrilling. It was more excitement than nerves. If this had been my previous life, I would have acted as though a big competition like this was our ultimate goal, but now I had enough room to actually enjoy the process. I could think more seriously about carrying out, one by one, the plans that had been set for after this competition.
“The current year’s Startup Competition will now begin.”
And exactly fifteen minutes later, the competition began. By the time they introduced the congratulatory remarks, the significance of the event, and the organizations hosting the preliminary sections, an hour had already slipped by. There were so many groups to congratulate and introduce that it was taking even longer than the preliminaries had.
“Then we’ll begin with the first team’s presentation.”
Just as people were beginning to fight off drowsiness, the presentations finally started.
“Good afternoon. From 2D to 3D—this is Ko Junseong from 23D.”
I remembered 23D as another company working with AI. They’d developed a program called 2D3D that converted camera-captured subjects into 3D image sources. If you entered detailed measurements, you could also view and arrange the 3D assets at a glance, which meant they’d apparently been targeting logistics companies first, where efficient inventory handling mattered most.
As far as I knew, their strength was that the system automatically ran the best loading simulation for you.
“In the future, 23D also plans to apply this technology to medical systems, where it will be directly connected to people’s lives.”
Then, suddenly, the presentation shifted into medicine, and our entire team looked at one another in surprise before focusing more closely on 23D’s pitch.
“Our product can be used anywhere that works with imaging data, including X-rays, CT scans, and MRIs. By generating more three-dimensional images, doctors will be able to establish more precise surgical plans.”
Listening to him, the plan sounded surprisingly plausible.
“In cases involving cancers or other tumors, it would show in detail how far the lesion has penetrated, allowing everyone on the surgical team to verify the area in advance. The fact that tumors are easier to identify during the 3D reconstruction process is another strength. If we combine this with the tumor-diagnosis AI we’re currently developing, we could become a leader in diagnostics.”
At that final statement, all of my teammates looked at me with flustered expressions.
Cancer diagnosis. 3D reconstruction of cancer. Doctors using the resulting images to plan surgery in concrete detail.
“Isn’t this way too strong an item?”
The nervous question that followed reached my ears as well. The second it came out, every single teammate fixed their eyes on me as though they were trying to bore right through my face. They were asking me to reassure them.
“Well, the idea itself is definitely strong.”
At my first answer, everyone’s eyes went wide. In their expressions, they were already asking whether that meant our own product was being pushed aside.
They really didn’t need to worry that much.
“You don’t need to be anxious. We’re not going to lose to that company.”
Even that wasn’t enough to calm them down, so I delivered the single most important keyword I could think of.
“Right now, all they’re saying is, ‘We plan to do this.’ They’re not saying, ‘We can do this now.’ The judges know the difference.”
On vision alone, it was an impressive product. It could even become a powerful competitor to our company. I didn’t know yet whether it would actually be useful in real surgical settings, but if you considered how it could help doctors explain diseases to patients or use cases for case studies among physicians, it was the kind of service large hospitals would welcome.
But the problem was that they hadn’t actually built it yet.
“You mentioned earlier that you plan to expand your product lineup into the medical field as well. When are you expecting to release that product?”
“We’re planning for within the next five years.”
“What stage are you at right now?”
“We’re currently at the stage of converting MRI images into 3D images.”
“Isn’t an MRI already a 3D image?”
“Ah, well, we’re working on making it a little more 3D-like.”
“Pardon?”
It was only natural that even the judges would feel the need to cut into this and get some clarification. Ko Junseong, the representative from 23D, seemed flustered by the question and couldn’t answer properly. He sounded so shaky that it almost felt like he was lying.
“So, I mean, you’d be able to scroll through it, zoom in, or rotate it.”
“Are you saying existing MRI images can’t be scrolled or zoomed?”
“Think of it as us developing the ability to rotate it 360 degrees and, you know, that kind of refinement.”
“Then how far along is the tumor-diagnosis AI?”
It was the textbook example of someone overreaching and being swallowed by his own ambition. He had a good product, but in trying to package it as even better, he’d inflated it into something that was too much of an overpromise. And once you overpromise, even the best internal idea can’t help but be underestimated.
“Yes, thank you for your presentation.”
Perhaps the judge had picked up on something through all that roundabout wording, because he stopped asking questions and started writing something down instead. Ko Junseong also seemed to realize that something had gone wrong.
“Looks like he added that part because he saw our company was participating and wanted to look competitive.”
“Could be. But who knows.”
And, as luck would have it, the next team up to present was ours.
“Then, beginning now, we’ll have the presentation from TA Medical.”
We were definitely going to get questions about the team that had just presented before us. All we had to do was present well and answer well.