The 72-Hour War
In the wake of Arcane Technology’s earth-shattering demonstration of the Magician, Lee Chang-ryong, chairman of Suseong Group, and Deputy Prime Minister Jin Tae-yoon sat pinned to their seats, unable to rise for quite some time.
Savoring the lingering aftershocks of the presentation, Chairman Lee finally broke the silence with a wry smile.
“They completely outplayed us. To think they had no intention of licensing the patent, but intended to sell the production line itself…”
“It isn’t even a proper line,” Jin Tae-yoon sighed. “Just a single thin steel plate and a metal rod. Most people out there probably have no idea how terrifying that truly is.”
Physical constraints on manufacturing floors were wiped clean off the board. There was no longer any need to overhaul or rebuild existing facilities.
What a dangerously seductive proposition it was. It meant a company wouldn’t have to bleed tens of trillions of won just to retool and build cleanrooms from scratch.
“It just goes to show how brilliant those young men are,” Chairman Lee added, his tone tinged with self-reproach at having failed to read their opponent’s moves. “They kept the underlying principle shrouded in total secrecy while flaunting the end result. And then, they stepped forward offering to sell the tool that creates that result—embodying the very definition of a ‘solution device provider.’”
The deputy prime minister let out a heavy breath.
“At this rate, it becomes awkward for the government to lock it down under the National Advanced Strategic Technology Act. After all, they aren’t selling technology abroad; they’re selling finished hardware.”
“It can’t be helped,” Chairman Lee said, briskly collecting his thoughts. “We still have seventy-two hours. It may be a narrow window, but it’s more than enough time to wage a decisive, all-or-nothing campaign.”
“The real question is whether our terms can be attractive enough. It might sound unpleasant to your ears, Chairman, but the competitors you’re up against are…”
Lee Chang-ryong’s expression turned somber for an instant before hardening with resolve.
“Even so, we can’t simply roll over and withdraw without a fight, can we? I intend to form a consortium.”
“A consortium?”
“We will bring together every key player in our domestic battery sector, including Hwaseong, and prepare an unbeatable proposal. Our target… securing priority supply rights for the Magician should be an appropriate first step.”
“Incredible…” Jin Tae-yoon marveled at the sheer scale of the vision. “Though it won’t be an easy road.”
“Indeed, considering the tangled web of conflicting interests. I don’t know why they failed to show up today, but Hwaseong won’t easily agree to join under our lead.”
“Well, as the domestic market leader, Hwaseong certainly wouldn’t want to surrender the initiative.”
“What else can we do? We have to press forward regardless.”
Remembering the notorious greed and short temper of Hwaseong Group’s Vice Chairman Jeon Myeong-cheol, Chairman Lee shook his head dismissively.
“At any rate, once we assemble the consortium, we will emphasize that we are trusted domestic partners fighting on the front lines of global competition. With our diverse ecosystem of affiliated businesses, we can guarantee substantial recurring royalties, backed by comprehensive government support. In that regard, I will need your assistance, Deputy Prime Minister.”
“Rest assured,” Jin replied firmly. “From tax credits and regulatory exemptions to direct R&D funding, I will spare no effort to ensure we put every conceivable carrot on the table.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. This is a matter of national interest.”
Chairman Lee rose to his feet.
“Shall we? Now that our course is set, we have to move quickly.”
“Time is running short.”
Standing face to face, the two men exchanged looks forged in mutual trust.
“Please, secure the Magician at all costs.”
“The fate of our conglomerate hangs in the balance, so of course I will,” Chairman Lee chuckled dryly. “If push comes to shove, I’ll cling to their pant legs and belt out the national anthem to make it happen.”
The self-deprecating quip drew an appreciative chuckle from Jin Tae-yoon.
Seventy-one hours remained.
The corporate titan straightened his posture, stepping out to meet the storm.
Shortly thereafter.
In a presidential suite on the upper floors of a neighboring hotel, the atmosphere had plunged past grim into outright solemnity.
Through a dense fog of cigarette smoke, the Chinese delegation—comprising officials from the China Investment Corporation and senior executives from CETL—sat with stiff, rigid expressions during an urgent video conference.
A direct order from Beijing crackled across the encrypted screen.
"...The gravity of the situation has been fully registered. The Party Central's decree is absolute. By any means necessary, bring Arcane’s technology or its core personnel under our jurisdiction to achieve our national battery supremacy. Failure will not be tolerated."
The moment the screen clicked off, Ding Xuexiang, president of the China Investment Corporation, shot to his feet with an explosive roar.
“You all heard that! This is no longer mere commercial competition! This is a command from the Party, a war upon which rests the destiny of the people!”
Ding Xuexiang snapped his head around, fixing CETL’s Chief Technology Officer with a piercing glare.
“First, answer me this. Can we replicate their technology?”
CETL’s CTO answered in a trembling voice.
“At present, the outlook is negative. Merely observing the demonstration revealed nothing of the underlying principles…”
“What if you acquire a physical unit to dissect?”
“Reverse-engineering might offer a slight chance, but the probability remains low. Until we have the actual hardware in our hands to tear down, I cannot make any guarantees.”
“Is that so?”
Tapping his knuckles rhythmically against the mahogany table, Ding Xuexiang muttered under his breath.
“Then we bring the people over.”
An operative from the Ministry of State Security stood quietly in the room. Ding Xuexiang turned his gaze toward him.
“Has intelligence gathering commenced on our targets?”
“We are methodically compiling dossiers starting from their immediate social circles,” the agent replied, voice devoid of emotion. “If you require it, I can tell you the exact color of the underwear they put on this morning.”
“Excellent.” Ding Xuexiang nodded with grim satisfaction. “Park Ji-hyuk or Kim Hyung-jun—one of them, or preferably both! Give them whatever they desire to bring them into our fold! Money? Women? Honors? Authority? Bestow whatever they demand so long as they embrace the bosom of the great Chinese nation!”
“Understood!” the corporate espionage bureau officer barked, snapping straight to attention.
“At the same time, proceed with bidding for the Magician! Our objective is exclusive global manufacturing and supply rights! It does not matter how high the others bid! We will offer higher to secure that machine! The Party and the people stand behind our funds!”
The gleaming power of limitless capital on the surface, and subterranean temptations in the dark.
This was the desperate, vicious bid of the continental behemoth to avoid elimination in the next-generation battery game of thrones.
A ruthless directive took root among them: to escape this existential crisis, no line was off-limits.
At that very moment.
In another luxury suite nearby, the subtle aroma of roasted coffee drifted through the air as representatives from Middle Eastern sovereign wealth funds leisurely sipped tea, trading thoughts in hushed, composed tones.
Their faces showed none of the frantic panic or suffocating tension displayed by the Koreans or Chinese.
“A truly wondrous technology,” the head of the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority remarked in quiet admiration. “It felt almost like witnessing magic summoned from Aladdin’s lamp.”
“Yet magic always demands a price,” the director from Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund replied, nodding slowly. “We must remain circumspect.”
“Quite right. So long as we do not comprehend the exact scientific principles driving this Magician, staking everything on the tool or the patent alone is hardly prudent.”
A perceptive gleam lit up the Saudi director’s eyes.
“Let us fix our sights on the individuals, not merely the artifact. Truth be told, do we genuinely require the Magician and its technology for our own domestic industries?”
The Arab world’s wealth was anchored not in high-tech fabrication, but in boundless reserves of black gold and the vast financial empires sustained by that capital. The Magician was an alluring treasure, without question. But for the men gathered here, it was not an asset worth engaging in a mutual bloodletting competition to possess.
“Above all else,” the Emirati official continued, “those two do not strike me as creators who will stop at this single breakthrough.”
They were young men barely crossing the threshold of thirty. If they could present such a miracle today, what world-altering shockwaves would they unleash once their knowledge, networks, and experience matured?
“Rather than chasing a short-term contest, let us focus on cultivating an enduring partnership. We must demonstrate to those young founders that we are their most steadfast friends and reliable benefactors.”
“Let us prepare a blank check. We will propose an equity investment on whatever valuation and scale they desire, with a binding covenant that we will never interfere in corporate governance. We only need to convey our sincere desire to share in their monumental journey. Even if that equity amounts to a mere one percent, it is more than enough—a seed sown for the dawn of tomorrow.”
“And someday, when mutual trust runs deep, we may turn to our friends to solve dilemmas of our own.”
The head of the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority murmured an old proverb under his breath.
“‘A single loyal friend is worth more than ten sacks of gold.’”
“Build true trust, and let the friend extend his hand first. Is that not the eternal way to cultivate true wealth?”
“Hahaha. A good friend deserves gifts. Shall we begin by discovering what those young gentlemen fancy?”
Right there, over quiet cups of coffee, the sovereign wealth funds of the desert agreed to terms unprecedented in their history.
Sages of the sands, choosing the distant horizon over immediate spoils. They did not fixate on the fruit dangling before their eyes; they looked toward the vast forest of the future.
Meanwhile, at Soosung Hotel Gangnam.
Inside a premier penthouse suite reserved exclusively for state guests, Nilon Mask was watching recorded footage of the demonstration on an endless loop.
Gone was his customary air of flippant boredom. In its place burned wonder, intense euphoria, and a distinct touch of madness.
“Unbelievable. That… that isn’t just some ordinary technology.”
“What is our strategy, sir? Our technical teams have analyzed the footage, and their preliminary report states that the situation has exceeded what we can handle on our own—”
“Shut up!”
Nilon barked, cutting the aide off mid-sentence.
“Trivial engineering doesn’t matter! This isn’t a petty spat over next-generation battery patents or electric vehicle market share!”
He sprang up from the couch, throwing his arms wide as if trying to embrace the room.
“This is a question of humanity’s destiny!”
Striding over to the panoramic floor-to-ceiling glass, Nilon gazed out at the glittering neon tapestry of Seoul’s skyline.
“Park Ji-hyuk and Kim Hyung-jun. What those two pulled off today is the Singularity! They effortlessly manifested something we’ve only theorized about—something we had no idea when, or if, humanity would ever achieve!”
Feverish exhilaration cracked across his face.
“‘Zero-Interface’? That’s merely the opening chord. Those two are going to reshape the world. They will rewrite the destiny of our species!”
“Then… how do you wish to proceed?”
“By sharing our dream.”
His objective had already crystallized.
“Contractual line items are irrelevant now. Once a sum of capital becomes large enough, the exact figures cease to matter. What counts is vision. While the rest of the herd tries to woo them with pocket change like tens of billions of dollars, we will place an offer from an entirely different dimension on the table!”
Turning back toward his entourage, his voice thrummed with missionary zeal.
“The future of mankind! Space colonization! The settlement of Mars! We offer to build this glorious dream together! The greatest research environment on Earth to unleash their boundless potential, absolute operational autonomy without meddling, an infinite budget, and… yes, a pledge to make whatever they imagine into physical reality!”
“With respect, Techno King, will an offer like that actually sway them?”
“We will make it sway them!” Nilon snapped, cutting the staffer down. “I will sit across from them myself. I will convince them. Those two are far too extraordinary to remain caged on this single rock. Their destiny lies out among the stars! They belong on Mars with me!”
His eyes had already drifted past the terrestrial horizon, fixating on the cold red orb floating in the void.
“Draft a blank proposal. Whatever terms they care to write down, I, Nilon Mask, will honor every single one.”
A peculiar, triumphant grin spread across his lips.
“Cause we’re going to Mars, baby! We’re really going!”
Seventy-two fateful hours surrounding Arcane Technology.
Beneath the glittering lights of Seoul, the invisible war between global titans, each harboring their own grand ambitions and dreams, had officially begun.