The Redmond Offensive
The board of directors and chairman of American Dream Gates had resolved to liquidate all valuable cash-equivalent assets just days before the acquisition was finalized—and they sold everything. Cash accounts, stocks they held, anything that could be quickly converted to cash was disposed of. Upon closer inspection, the shares had been divided among the stakeholders, so it wasn't as if Yoo Jae-won received nothing. After all, he had accumulated a significant amount of stock after declaring a hostile takeover. However, the majority of the substantial portions had gone to Chairman Gates and the individuals on the board. It was ambiguous whether he could even contest it. The events had occurred before the acquisition was finalized.
Even after all that cash-equivalent value had been drained, Microsoft's total assets still exceeded 1.5 billion dollars. This was thanks to the real estate, buildings, and other properties that were difficult to liquidate quickly. One might think that acquiring a company with 1.5 billion dollars in assets for 1.25 billion was a great deal. But even a massive corporation like Microsoft naturally carried debt. The debt amounted to just over 300 million dollars—which, considering Microsoft's scale, was actually quite small. Subtracting the liabilities from the assets left a net value of just under 1.2 billion dollars. Vincent Greenhill's assessment that they had paid slightly too much was accurate.
Yoo Jae-won was satisfied with this outcome. From the beginning, his reason for acquiring Microsoft had never been about coveting their real estate. What he wanted most was the company's robust global sales network, built through subsidiaries and branches worldwide. That network now bore the ID banner. If he deployed it as the vanguard for distributing the Android operating system, the PC OS market would effectively fall entirely into his hands.
Microsoft's global sales network has been fully rebranded under ID. Ready for immediate deployment in Android OS distribution.
“I’ve also compiled a list of unusual assets here.”
Just when Yoo Jae-won thought the report was finished, Vincent Greenhill had one more section. Curious about what could be considered “unusual,” he looked—and found luxury items. Over ten high-end vehicles including Rolls-Royces, golf club memberships, resort shares, and more. These were expensive possessions held under Microsoft’s corporate name. Like the real estate, they weren’t easy to liquidate, so they had been left behind. Now that the company had become a private entity, these luxuries belonged to Yoo Jae-won as well. He wasn’t desperate for immediate cash, and they might prove useful later, so he decided not to dispose of them hastily.
“That concludes my report.”
When Vincent Greenhill finished, Yoo Jae-won gave him a round of applause. It had taken longer than expected, but he had meticulously organized Microsoft’s vast assets. Simply reading the report allowed one to clearly visualize the scale of what had been transferred from Microsoft.
“Have the aptitude tests and capability evaluations been completed?”
At Yoo Jae-won’s question, President Remington stood up.
“Yes, sir. Excluding those who refused succession and resigned, we conducted a comprehensive survey of 652 developers regarding their capabilities, aptitudes, and preferred departments.”
It was twelve times the number of developers currently at ID Technology. An enormous pool of development talent. This was a result of Microsoft’s growth strategy. With their immense capital, they had aggressively acquired promising software companies without hesitation. The department solely responsible for creating various utilities for MS-DOS numbered in the dozens, while the Windows development team exceeded one hundred. There was also the Office development division, as well as research labs like Alpha Lab that had nothing to do with product development.
“Fortunately, there were no individuals lacking in development ability.”
That was a relief. Yoo Jae-won had been prepared to ruthlessly cut anyone who couldn’t program. During the IT boom, countless universities had churned out programmers who didn’t even understand the basics. As a result, companies had been forced to train new hires while simultaneously running live projects. In his previous life, when Yoo Jae-won had just begun his artificial intelligence business, the government had enthusiastically supported it, calling the Fourth Industrial Revolution the new growth engine. Universities created related departments and began graduating students. Trusting in that government support, he had hired them—only to discover their skills were abysmal. Those who claimed to have received specialized education were less competent than he had been, self-taught through American journals and online lectures.
It was truly fortunate that none of the inherited development team fell into that category.
“As for preferred work locations, 58% chose Redmond and 42% chose Silicon Valley.”
At the next part of the report, Yoo Jae-won tilted his head. He had expected at least 70% to prefer Redmond. That was where Microsoft’s headquarters and research labs were located. Veteran employees would have worked there for years, so naturally their lives and families would be established in Redmond. Yet 42% were willing to relocate to Silicon Valley.
“That many?”
“It’s Silicon Valley, sir. The salaries are higher, and with so many IT companies around, changing jobs is easier. The high cost of housing is the only downside, but doesn’t the ID Group provide housing assistance?”
Yoo Jae-won nodded at Remington’s explanation. It wasn’t just housing support—employees who wanted to buy homes could borrow money at lower interest rates than banks offered. While debt wasn’t necessarily good for the individual, from the company’s perspective it created invisible shackles that made leaving more difficult. Additionally, lending money to employees lowered taxable income, so the company actively encouraged such loans.
“But what do we do? Even if they want to come, we don’t have enough positions available. Are there any properties on the market?”
With so many companies and startups flocking to Silicon Valley, securing office space was becoming increasingly difficult. Especially for a large organization like the ID Group that needed entire buildings—such properties rarely became available.
“If there had been, I would have reported it immediately.”
As expected, there were still no suitable building listings. Perhaps it would be better to simply construct a new building at the site of the Silicon Valley flagship store. He had originally planned to do so in the 21st century, but the acquisition of Microsoft had created such a massive variable that it seemed wiser to accelerate the decision.
“By the way, do you intend to maintain this large development team going forward?”
“Why do you ask?”
“To be honest, it seems you’re being overly ambitious. Considering the scale of software currently under development at ID Technology, two hundred people should be sufficient. Moreover, with the teams physically separated, there are significant challenges in collaborative work.”
At Remington’s words, Mario Rogers, the project manager sitting nearby, nodded vigorously in agreement.
“That’s not incorrect. For now, at least. After all, we built Android 1.0 with just me and the Silicon Valley team. However, I intend to aim not only for personal operating systems but also for workstation, server, and even supercomputer operating systems. That’s why we need a large development force.”
“S-supercomputer?”
Remington was visibly shocked by Yoo Jae-won’s vision. Having worked at the forefront of IT, he had naturally sensed the stirrings of the internet industry. He had therefore anticipated the development of server operating systems for internet use. But a supercomputer OS? During all the time he had led ID Technology, there had never been any need for something like that.
“Not immediately. But I fully intend to develop a supercomputer operating system as well.”
Remington’s lips twitched as if he wanted to ask what on earth Yoo Jae-won planned to use a supercomputer for. But this was hardly the appropriate setting for such a question. This meeting had been arranged to report on the current state of the American business operations, not to discuss future visions. Remington didn’t press the matter. He knew Yoo Jae-won would remain in the United States until autumn, so there would be plenty of opportunities to ask later.
“Chairman, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Kevin Johnson, formerly responsible for Microsoft’s worldwide marketing and services.”
The employee succession from Microsoft had applied only to regular staff. For contracted executives, the default had been termination of contract. Since the contracting entity—Microsoft—had ceased to exist, the contracts were naturally voided. However, those with no connection to confirmed illegal activities and whose capabilities had been verified were offered new contracts. After all, an organization couldn’t function with only employees; competent middle managers to bridge executives and staff were essential. Kevin Johnson was one such re-contracted individual.
His exact title had not yet been finalized, but he had provided significant assistance during Vincent Greenhill’s asset due diligence and Remington’s evaluation of the development team’s capabilities and preferred work locations.
“The conversion of our direct-operated branches in the United States, Asia, and Europe into ID flagship stores is nearly complete. Major U.S. cities, Tokyo in Japan, Paris in France, and London in the UK are ready to open immediately. The remaining countries should all be finished by July.”
For the past month, Kevin Johnson had been tasked with converting Microsoft’s overseas branches into ID flagship stores. The dense global sales network had been what Yoo Jae-won coveted most. He planned to fully utilize the organization that Chairman Gates had so diligently built to unleash a worldwide marketing storm alongside the launch of Android 1.0.
The report continued.
“The Q&A center consultants are currently learning Android 1.0 from the engineers in preparation for the massive volume of inquiries expected immediately after release.”
Q&A departments were usually outsourced. The work was simple, but the number of people required was large, so it was typically set up in countries like India or China where labor costs were low. These days, however, Q&A had become quite specialized, so they were building a dedicated team. In fact, Yoo Jae-won had expanded the Q&A department to roughly twice the size it had been under Gates. Each consultant was provided with a computer, and a knowledge library had been created so that if a customer asked about an issue that had already been resolved, they could provide an immediate answer.
“We have completed personnel allocation according to your instructions, Chairman, but we still have over 1,000 employees on standby.”
The figure of 1,000 included developers without assigned tasks as well as administrative staff.
“Since idle employees still receive salaries, I would greatly appreciate it if you could issue work orders as soon as possible.”
Very few professions in society allowed one to earn money while doing nothing. If a company stopped giving employees work, it was usually a sign they would soon be let go. As a result, those who hadn’t received immediate assignments often fell into anxiety.
“Yes, they do have work. In fact, not only them—the Silicon Valley team will be working on it together.”
At the mention of the Silicon Valley team, even Mario Rogers reacted immediately.
“All-out assault, right?”
“Assault? What exactly are you planning to attack?”
“It’s an all-out assault on Android 1.0. I will designate the 1,000 idle personnel as the Redmond Team. The Redmond Team will attack Android 1.0 from every possible angle. Bugs, security vulnerabilities, typos—anything. Find whatever you can. The Silicon Valley team will then review and fix what the Redmond Team discovers.”
Yoo Jae-won intended to raise the completeness of Android 1.0 right up until the moment of release. The cautionary tale he had in mind was Microsoft’s next-generation Windows, which had now become a dark chapter in history. It had so many errors that people joked you needed to install it 95 times to master it. The bugs were so numerous that even when application software crashed, people blamed the operating system and cursed Gates endlessly.
Yoo Jae-won wanted to create the exact opposite phenomenon. He wanted Android 1.0’s stability to be so exceptional that if any error did occur, people would automatically assume it was the application’s fault.
“Even minor discoveries will be reflected in performance evaluations and rewarded with bonuses.”
Yoo Jae-won’s generosity was so well-known that everyone present understood the scale without needing further explanation. The tension among those who had begun to relax after the Android 1.0 deadline suddenly skyrocketed. The atmosphere between Remington and Kevin Johnson in particular shifted noticeably. While Remington held the higher rank, Kevin Johnson carried a distinct pride in both the size of his team and its historical legacy. His face immediately showed his determination to use this opportunity—personally arranged by the chairman—to restore Redmond’s pride. Meanwhile, the Silicon Valley contingent, including President Remington and Mario Rogers, radiated an equally fierce resolve not to lose.
It wasn’t over until it was truly over.
The fiercely contested internal war within ID Technology finally reached its conclusion on August 15, 1991.
On August 15, Android 1.0—the operating system destined to become a massive turning point in computer history—was released to the world.