Desert Storm
March’s final week in the Desert Storm. Yoo Jae-won, the man shaking up Yeoju’s education scene, arrived at work at a leisurely pace. Back in middle school, he had to leave home by 7:40 a.m. at the latest to make it on time. The moment the clock struck eight, the student patrol and the disciplinary teacher would be waiting at the gate, ready to catch latecomers and put them through drills or have them pull weeds on the field. Whether it was because the school was old or because the soil was unusually fertile, those weeds always grew back no matter how many times they were pulled—an endless loop of weeding duty. At least Yoo Jae-won had a private car and a dedicated driver, so his commute was comfortable. Other kids had to cram themselves into packed buses just to get to school. All of that felt like ancient history now.
“Good morning, sir.”
“You’re early again today.”
When he walked in at nine o’clock, Kang Chan-ho greeted him warmly. Knowing that Yoo Jae-won disliked having the entire staff line up for formal greetings, the other employees had already started their work. After a brief exchange with Kang Chan-ho, Yoo Jae-won headed up to his office on the second floor.
The first floor handled packaging and shipping, while the second floor was Yoo Jae-won’s personal playground. Several Egg PCs were lined up, separated by low partitions and desks that gave the space more the feel of a PC bang than a typical office. That was intentional. Once his middle-school friends finished their classes, they could come over to work or play games together. Snacks were always available, and they could use the latest computers to their hearts’ content, so his friends rarely missed a chance to drop by.
Since his friends wouldn’t arrive for a while, Yoo Jae-won powered on a computer and got to work. As soon as the system booted, he launched ID Talk, checked the overnight reports and approval documents from the U.S., and entered the development-team chatroom to review the progress of key projects.
It was 1990, yet the workflow already resembled the twenty-first century. Even across the Pacific, management felt seamless, as if everyone were right next door. If he could handle the Silicon Valley team this smoothly, overseeing the Seoul Rodeo team was child’s play.
“Oh? This was handled well too.”
What he was reviewing now was the progress report on Nextcomm being handled by the Seoul branch. Nextcomm was the first portal site and the next-generation PC communication service they were preparing with full force. In both Korea and the United States, all administrative procedures had been completed, and the service could launch at any moment. However, several preparations were still pending, one of which was securing newspaper articles.
News formed a significant portion of a portal site’s functionality. Yet having Nextcomm hire its own reporters was impractical. They would need to purchase articles from newspapers and news agencies, which required numerous contracts and negotiations. In the U.S., Remington was in charge; in Korea, Choi Kang-wook and Robert Halley were overseeing all contracts with newspapers, broadcasters, and news agencies.
“As expected of Remington.”
The report currently on screen had been uploaded by Remington early that morning Korean time before he clocked out. Though lengthy, the key point was that negotiations with the prestigious New York Times were nearly complete. In exchange, ID Technology would pay $200,000 per month for the articles. That amounted to roughly 140 million won—quite a sum. Apparently the New York Times had also considered the price high and offered to run a free advertisement for ID Technology or Nextcomm in their print edition once a week if the contract went through.
Remington had noted in the report that $200,000 seemed excessive and that he would try to negotiate a lower price. But to Yoo Jae-won, $200,000 was practically a bargain. Simply receiving high-quality articles from the New York Times and featuring them on Nextcomm would be a powerful draw for users worldwide. Even acquiring just ten thousand paid subscribers would more than cover the cost. More importantly, in the twenty-first century, control over news curation would become an incredibly potent weapon.
Few internet users visited news companies’ own websites. Most read articles on the front page of portal sites, and those with deeper interest would navigate to the news section. The way articles were selected and arranged on that page could dramatically shift public opinion. The New York Times executives apparently hadn’t considered that far ahead. They had fully agreed to the clause allowing ID Technology to decide how articles would be posted on Nextcomm’s bulletin boards.
The only conditions the New York Times had requested were that their articles not be arbitrarily altered and that any corrections they issued be reflected immediately.
“At this price and with these terms, it’s more than fair.”
Yoo Jae-won sent instructions not to push for further discounts and to finalize the contract as quickly as possible. Time was more valuable than saving a few dollars right now. While this would help advance Nextcomm’s launch date, the real issue was that progress in the U.S. was rapid, whereas negotiations with Korean media outlets remained sluggish.
“Besides, the New York Times can serve as leverage.”
If news spread that the New York Times had looked ahead and agreed to supply articles to Nextcomm, domestic Korean media companies would no longer be able to stall. Their current delays were not because they disliked having their articles on Nextcomm, but because they were holding out for higher rates. Once the New York Times deal was sealed, Korean outlets would have no choice but to adopt a more cooperative stance.
Ding~!
An alert notified him of an incoming chat request via ID Talk. It was from Vincent Greenhill.
> I’ve emailed you the March performance report. This month includes futures expiration dates, so the tables are a bit complex. Please review them.
In the financial derivatives market, options expired monthly while futures expired quarterly. March featured both expiration dates, which explained the increased length of the report. Large positions in futures and options could cause significant volatility on expiration days, heavily influencing oil prices.
Vincent Greenhill, ID Investment’s sole investment manager, had finished depositing $30 million in early February and was currently investing it in oil futures. At first he had reported daily, but Yoo Jae-won, who already knew the outcome, had reduced it to once a week.
> Understood. It’s nighttime here right now.
“Really? You’re still working at this hour?”
> Yes. I’m used to it since I check every day.
“Good grief. Have you always worked like this? We don’t even offer overtime pay. You should rest when you can.”
Yoo Jae-won had deliberately simplified ID Technology’s compensation structure. The Korean norm of offering a modest base salary plus various allowances created complications with severance pay and made it easy for companies to manipulate pay or withhold overtime illegally. For someone who tracked cash flow daily, that system was inefficient. He had converted everything to a straightforward base salary that constituted the entire monthly wage. Bonuses were reserved for exceptional performance or holidays. The same applied even to high-value employees like Vincent.
> I’m fine. They say older people need less sleep anyway. Besides, the computer handles all the complex calculations, so it’s actually quite convenient. The results this month turned out well—please take a look.
Unable to ignore such a message, Yoo Jae-won opened the linked mailbox and downloaded the file Vincent had sent. He couldn’t open it immediately, however. The document was encrypted with ID Office’s top-tier AES-256 security, requiring a password. Because the oil-futures investment was a highly sensitive matter, even the ID Talk conversation used a secure channel, and all files were transmitted in encrypted form.
The password unlocked quickly, and the file opened. The extension was .IDS—an ID Spreadsheet file.
“Huh?”
As he examined the sheet, Yoo Jae-won immediately understood why Vincent had insisted he review it personally. The document recorded daily value changes of the invested products from mid-February to mid-March. Remarkably, the money invested in oil futures had been steadily increasing. Oil prices had been falling, so futures prices should have declined as well. Therefore ID Investment, which had taken large long positions in oil futures, ought to have been losing money. That was precisely why Yoo Jae-won had stopped checking the weekly reports—he had known losses were inevitable.
D-Day was in August. Until then, the best strategy was to push oil futures to the back of his mind and forget about them. Upon closer inspection, he saw that alongside the long futures positions, Vincent had also purchased a substantial number of put options. Puts bet on price declines, so even if futures prices dropped, the puts would generate offsetting profits. It was a basic Wall Street hedging strategy.
Yet using options for risk management wasn’t always ideal. Options had a lifespan of only one month. If market volatility wasn’t intense enough to significantly move the option’s price during that window, the premium would simply be lost.
“Ah! You handled the risk hedging quite cleverly.”
This time, however, the hedge had worked beautifully. Instead of losses, they had realized gains. The original $30 million had grown to just under $33 million.
> Yes! Currently, supply in the crude-oil market exceeds demand. A friend well-connected in the Middle East says Kuwait is ignoring OPEC quotas and increasing production. If we adjust our buying strategy slightly, we could secure even greater profits.
No wonder Vincent had contacted him via ID Talk at this hour. With oil futures tracing a gentle downward slope, he was suggesting a change in investment strategy.
“No. We won’t change the strategy.”
Even through this conversation with Vincent Greenhill, Yoo Jae-won could feel the hot winds blowing out of the Middle East. The heat was embedded in the very sentences Vincent had just sent. The current drop in oil prices stemmed from Kuwait disregarding OPEC agreements and ramping up crude production—an action that would hit Iraq hardest. While this alone might not be the decisive trigger for war, it was clearly a powerful provocation. The critical point was drawing ever closer.