The Auction
“Here is the appraisal report, sir.”
The lawyer and the auctioneer had come to my workshop.
The lawyer, wearing thin-rimmed glasses, handed me several sheets of paper.
Appraisal Institution: Korea University Department of Semiconductor Engineering, Semiconductor Device Research Lab
Product Name: DDR5 Memory Semiconductor
Manufacturer: Unidentified
Appearance: Identical to standard DDR5 module specifications. No heatsink.
Appraisal Result: Transfer speed 48,000 MT/s
Analysis Opinion: This memory semiconductor adheres to the DDR5 standard interface while recording an ultra-high transfer rate of 48,000 MT/s. This represents an improvement of over 600% compared to commercially available modules currently on the market, and is difficult to explain through conventional silicon-device-based design.
Estimation: Possible introduction of vertical architecture or 3D interconnect technology; modified design of next-generation interfaces (e.g., CXL or HBM hybrid); potential realization of resistance-loss reduction at the level of a room-temperature superconductor (estimated).
Appraisal Institution: Korea Institute of Technology, Semiconductor Research Lab
…
Appraisal Institution: Daejeon National Semiconductor Technology Research Center
…
I had commissioned three institutions in total. The results were all similar.
Every research lab wanted to know how I had made this thing—and who I was.
“Hmm…”
If you looked closely at the reports, they seemed to have more or less arrived at the principle.
A room-temperature superconductor.
According to Illys, mithril was the finest material for conducting mana. I had begun to wonder whether what they called mana over there was simply electricity over here.
In other words, mithril was a substance through which electricity flowed exceptionally well and extremely fast.
On Earth, we called such materials superconductors.
“You said you filmed video as well?”
The lawyer had recorded footage while receiving the appraisals.
I played Video 1 out of the three files.
On the screen appeared a signboard reading “Korea University Department of Semiconductor Engineering, Semiconductor Device Research Lab.”
Even just the sign looked impressive.
I wondered what it would feel like to attend Korea University.
The video featured students and a professor said to be among the brightest in the entire country.
“So this is the one? The RAM that’s supposedly so fast.”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
The professor stared blankly at the RAM, his expression businesslike and thoroughly unimpressed.
“Well then, let’s measure it first. Dr. Han.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was the classic setup: the professor played face for the outsiders while the doctoral student under him handled the actual work.
It took only a few minutes for their indifferent expressions to change completely.
“P-Professor!”
“What is it, Han? Why are you shouting?”
“F-forty-eight thousand MT/s!”
“What?!”
The professor rushed over and stared holes through the monitor of the measuring equipment.
“What is this? An error? Osung’s top LPDDR5X speed is 12,700 MT/s. Nothing in the lab papers even exceeds fifteen thousand. How did they do this?”
The professor whipped his head around.
Even through the monitor, a kind of madness flickered in the Korea University professor’s eyes.
“Where was this made? Who are you people? Well?! Where did you come from? Answer me!”
Listening to the voice, I recognized him at once.
That was the same professor who had called me on the phone.
A man who had started out completely indifferent had charged at the RAM like a zombie the moment he saw the numbers.
I was glad I had sent people instead of going myself.
I might have gotten bitten.
I clicked the other two videos as well.
The other research institutes had reacted in roughly the same way.
Initial indifference.
Then shock after measurement.
The lawyer looked at me and said, “The atmosphere is rather intense. You said you intended to sell the memory semiconductor at auction, but if things continue like this, we need to prepare for the possibility of a high-price bid.”
Prepare for a high-price bid? Was that even necessary?
“Prepare for what, exactly?”
The lawyer smiled faintly.
“Tax preparation.”
“Ah.”
I was a sole proprietor, registered as an individual business owner. I settled comprehensive income tax every May, but when you ran the numbers, I hardly paid anything. Between the disability deduction from my condition and the simple fact that I never earned much, taxes had never been something I thought about preparing for.
But if large sums of money might come in, preparing for taxes was the correct call.
Lawyers really were useful.
“Sir. Will there be more auctions like this going forward, or is this a one-time event?”
I had already thrown work at the Nano World.
I had told them to try making something.
I didn’t know exactly what would come out, but something would come out. And if nothing did, I could simply ask them to make the same thing again—Illys didn’t seem the type to refuse.
“There will probably be more.”
The faces of the lawyer and the auctioneer standing beside him brightened instantly.
The lawyer continued, “I see. If high-volume sales continue, you absolutely must establish a corporation. For individuals, income above the ten-billion-won tax bracket is subject to a maximum rate of 45 percent. For corporations, the maximum rate is 24 percent.”
He already seemed convinced the sales would be high-volume.
“How do I set up a corporation?”
As if he had expected the question, the lawyer pulled out another stack of documents.
“We’ll proceed immediately. What would you like the corporate name to be?”
“Corporate name?”
“Yes. The company name. Something like Osung, Cocoa… that sort of thing.”
Naming, then.
“A simple name is fine, or you can reflect the characteristics of your products. Since you produce outstanding items in small quantities, something like a research institute would also work.”
He seemed to mean something along the lines of a semiconductor research lab.
“English initials are also commonly used. If you later spin off multiple corporations, you can keep the initials consistent across the group.”
AAA Semiconductor, AAA Bio, AAA Motors—that kind of shared naming with a descriptive element.
“Then since my name is Kim Jiho, let’s go with JH, and call it a research institute.”
“JH Research?”
The lawyer immediately searched to see whether an identical name already existed.
“No identical name. It’s available. Will there be any additional employees in the corporation?”
“No. Just me. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. One-person corporations are extremely common. You’ll simply find it difficult to handle taxes alone, so you’ll need to engage a tax accountant.”
Scratch, scratch.
He filled out several forms.
“You’ll need a corporate seal… Do you happen to have a stamp?”
I pulled a plastic stamp out of the drawer.
When I opened the cap, it made a soft pop.
“Incorporation will take about a week.”
Hiring a lawyer made the entire process remarkably easy.
The auctioneer, who had been listening from the side, asked with a serious expression, “Sir. What would you think of holding the auction in the United States?”
“What? America?”
“Yes. If things go well, the major players may participate.”
“Major players meaning…?”
“The semiconductor companies. Places like Osung and Mvidia. If big tech takes an interest, there’s no telling how high the auction price could climb.”
“Ah…”
“We looked into it at the company level, and it seems worth attempting. Right now you hold the world’s fastest memory semiconductor in finished, tangible form.”
“I can’t hand over the technology or anything like that.”
“That won’t be a problem. Have you heard of the Brown Bear Project?”
“Brown Bear?”
“Years ago, our country lent money to Russia. When Russia couldn’t repay it, they settled the debt with weapons. We dismantled and analyzed those weapons and accumulated a considerable amount of technology.”
“I think I understand.”
“Same principle. When the world’s highest-speed memory semiconductor appears at auction, they will analyze it and accumulate technology. Or rather—they will believe they can accumulate technology, and they will buy it for that reason.”
“I see.”
“And it’s an auction. No company can simply sit and watch a competitor walk away with the highest-speed semiconductor.”
“Ah…”
When I had measured the RAM speed on my own computer, I had vaguely thought I might be able to sell it for a high price.
It was the fastest RAM on Earth—would semiconductor companies really ignore it?
That was why I had thrown fifteen million won at this.
Now I had to establish a corporation and go all the way to America. It would probably cost more than twenty million.
A large investment for me.
I swallowed hard.
“By big tech, do you mean places like Osung and Hi Electronics?”
“No. I mean places like Mvidia and Antel.”
“Ah…”
Osung alone was a dinosaur of a company. Mvidia and Antel felt completely unreal.
“Will they actually come?”
The auctioneer’s eyes gleamed.
“There’s every possibility.”
“Then when do we hold the auction?”
“If we schedule it as quickly as possible, we could do it within a few days. But more important than speed is gathering the big players.”
“Ah.”
“If we held the auction today, only the people from the research labs in those videos would show up. We need to show those videos to the major players and give them time to take an interest.”
“That makes sense.”
“And once you’re in America, I’d like you to get two or three more appraisals. From their perspective, that would count as verification by research labs in another country.”
“Good idea.”
“What if we head to America right away, get additional verification, and then distribute those videos to semiconductor companies around the world?”
The scale kept growing.
The auctioneer smiled.
“Let’s find out just how deep the pockets of America’s big players really are.”
“All right. Let’s go to America.”
Several days passed.
The lawyer, the insurance planner, and the auctioneer flew to America ahead of me.
Expenses would be processed under the JH Research corporate name, but since I had no money at the moment, everything would be settled from the auction proceeds afterward.
The lawyer and the insurance planner had even said they wouldn’t charge fees if the auction fell through—and still went to America.
My corporation was a one-person entity.
I had no employees I could send to the United States.
Yet they volunteered to act as my staff.
From their perspective, this looked like a deal that would actually work, so they wanted a seat at the table.
In any case, my “employees” kept reporting the situation to me.
Bzzzz.
A call came from the lawyer.
“Boss. We’ve arrived at MIT. We’re revealing the physical unit and measuring its speed. Because we sent the videos in advance, a lot of people have gathered. About a hundred or so.”
“Is the merchandise safe?”
“Yes. I don’t think you need to worry about that. We’ve stationed ten armed guards.”
“Ah…”
Guns.
Things seemed to be going well—so well that I was getting nervous for no clear reason.
Several more days passed, and the auction date drew near.
At first I had intended to leave the auction entirely to the lawyer and the auctioneer.
Both my legs had been amputated; I had to get around in a wheelchair.
Going all the way to America for an auction was no small matter.
Even so, the way things were unfolding was anything but ordinary.
It was just a single memory module, yet Korea’s top universities and research institutes—and now American labs as well—were in an uproar.
The auctioneer suggested I come to the auction house in person.
Fine. I was stuck in a wheelchair, but something enormous was clearly happening. I ought to see it with my own eyes.
I decided to go to America myself.
On the morning of the day I was scheduled to leave for the United States—
“Boss!”
The auctioneer had come all the way to my house to pick me up.
“I’ve come to escort you.”
“Thank you.”
The journey wouldn’t be easy, but having someone travel with me made it feel doable.
When we arrived at the airport, a pretty flight attendant greeted me.
“Mr. Kim Jiho. This way, please.”
I turned and looked at the auctioneer.
Was this kind of service normal?
The elevator took us somewhere that was not an ordinary boarding gate.
“…Is this the right place?”
“Yes. First class is this way.”
I checked the ticket I had been given again.
FIRST CLASS
Ah… so that was what it meant.
Unfortunately, this was my first time on a plane, so I hadn’t known.
Even getting around the neighborhood on these legs was hard enough; I had never considered flying.
The auction house would take 5 percent of the final bid price.
Well, they must have calculated that there would be something left over.
“This way.”
I followed the pretty flight attendant and momentarily lost the ability to speak.
A spacious cabin, seats that reclined into beds, pre-prepared hot towels and champagne flutes.
Most of all, a lift-type assistive chair designed so I could transfer from my wheelchair into the seat was waiting for me.
“Mr. Kim Jiho. We prepared this in advance based on your boarding information.”
I had been “accommodated” for my disability before, but being “welcomed” like this was a first in my life.
The welcome continued even after we landed at Washington Dulles.
The familiar face of the lawyer was waiting for me, accompanied by guards with earpieces.
The place we arrived at was a six-star hotel in Washington.
I asked the lawyer, “What about the hotel bill?”
“The auction house will advance the payment. Once the auction is over, we’ll process it as a JH Research corporate expense.”
“And if the auction doesn’t go well?”
“Then they say they won’t take the money.”
Between the auction house and the lawyer, everyone seemed convinced it would sell for a high price.
That night in the hotel.
The night view of Washington from high up was truly beautiful.