Linux Awakens and the Russian Call
The phrase "American Dream Internet" meant far more than just the World Wide Web. There was the classic file transfer service FTP, and recently a document search service called Gopher had emerged. While everything was rapidly consolidating around the WWW these days, other services were still being actively developed. One service gaining fresh momentum was Usenet. Short for User Network, it was a distributed network designed so that users around the world could exchange and discuss text-based articles in public spaces. In simple terms, even if the servers people connected to were different, the bulletin board itself functioned as a single, unified, worldwide forum.
A short post had appeared on the computer operating systems board of this Usenet a few days earlier. The board was naturally dominated by discussions of the Android operating system, yet this post had instantly become a hot topic, overshadowing everything else.
"I'm developing a new operating system. I've made the source code public, so if anyone's interested, feel free to take a look and share your thoughts or feedback. I'd appreciate it."
The name attached to the post was Linus Torvalds. It marked the beginning of Linux, the open-source operating system that would later become legendary.
Yoo Jae-won was looking at that very post right now. It had been uploaded on August 25th. Two weeks later, the reactions were quite positive. Many people were thrilled by the fact that they could view the operating system's source code directly and even modify it themselves.
"History hasn't been twisted too badly," he murmured.
In his previous life, Linux had evolved through the voluntary contributions of countless developers. Richard Stallman, who had ties to Yoo Jae-won, had also joined the effort with GNU. Thanks to that, the somewhat crude operating system created by a second-year university student had seen its completeness skyrocket, eventually earning the name Linux. Linux had gone on to challenge Microsoft's operating systems, securing a firm foothold in the mobile and server markets, and later even extending into artificial intelligence.
"I wonder how things will unfold this time."
Microsoft no longer existed. Instead, the world was rapidly shifting to the Android ecosystem that Yoo Jae-won himself had created. While replacing the unstable DOS with a Unix-compatible system had caused some initial confusion, the transition had gone smoothly. The overall landscape hadn't changed much. ID Group had simply taken Microsoft's place, and Linux had appeared exactly as it had in the original timeline.
Whether Linux would grow as massively as it had in his previous life or chart a different course was something even Yoo Jae-won couldn't predict. Android 1.0's stability was in a league of its own. Even if an application error occurred, the computer itself never crashed. A program manager would simply terminate the faulty application and return cleanly to the desktop. As long as applications were built properly, the system wouldn't go down no matter how heavy the load. Losing data while working in DOS or Windows had already become a distant memory.
Moreover, Android's price competitiveness was formidable. Users could have it for free if they tolerated a bit of adware at startup, or simply purchase the genuine version for ten dollars. This left Linux with even less room to breathe. Still, since both were Unix-based, applications developed for Android 1.0 could run on Linux with only minor adjustments to the source code. Watching how Linux would develop from here would be a small source of amusement for Yoo Jae-won.
"Well then, shall we move on to domestic news?"
After leaving a congratulatory comment on Linux's birth, Yoo Jae-won connected to Korea's NextCom for the first time in a while. The first place he visited was, of course, the news page. The news page had undergone significant changes, thanks to Henry Samuel, whom he had recruited as president of NextCom. The most notable improvement was the integration of NextCom's PC communication bulletin boards with the WWW boards, allowing users to view posts from either side. The WWW news page layout had also been overhauled for better readability. Without anyone needing to explain it, sections had been clearly divided, important headlines were displayed at twice the font size with much larger areas, and the overall design felt like a newspaper had been transplanted onto the WWW. Korea's news page had been updated in the same manner.
Thanks to this, the hottest issues were immediately visible upon accessing the news page.
— Former Chairman of Busan Group Sentenced to Three Years in Prison!
— Busan Brewery Chairman Sentenced to Five Years for Creating Slush Funds and Bribery!
The articles had been uploaded the previous day. The first trial verdict had been delivered in the Nakdong River phenol contamination case that had shaken the nation, and the sentences were unusually severe.
"No suspended sentence?"
The suspended sentences that chaebols typically received as a default option were nowhere to be seen. Though the attached photo was in black and white, it clearly showed the Busan Group owner brothers boarding a prison van with their hands bound. They might receive reduced sentences on appeal, but they would have to remain in prison for several months until then.
"Wow. That's impressive."
The article made it painfully clear that a single word from the president carried more weight than the chaebols' financial power. The twenty-first century had been different. Even with the public watching closely, the "three years in prison, five years suspended" rule had always been applied without fail. It seemed the chaebols, who had been forced to endure political power's blows and extortions until the early 1990s, had been grinding their teeth ever since.
Other headlines caught his eye as well.
— Seize the Second Mobile Communications License!
— The Second Mobile Communications Market, Worth Two Trillion Won in the 2000s!
— Eight Major Domestic Corporations Eyeing the Prize, Competition Heats Up!
The second mobile communications business was gradually ripening.
"Heh. They're already drinking kimchi soup before the rice cake has even been offered."
It wasn't a two-trillion-won market in the 2000s. It was a market worth at least five times that—ten trillion won. By 2010 it would easily exceed one hundred trillion won, and by around 2040 it would reach five hundred trillion won. On a global scale, adding another zero to those numbers wouldn't be an exaggeration. It wasn't just a goose that laid golden eggs; it was an entire farm raising hundreds or thousands of such geese. Yet President Roh had no intention of conducting a fair evaluation in selecting the operator. He would undoubtedly push for Seongkyung, his son-in-law's company, which had little to offer.
"Presidential power is truly terrifying."
For a moment, Yoo Jae-won found himself tempted by the idea of becoming president of Korea. But he quickly shook his head. The presidency was only a five-year term. One could devour everything while in office, but the terrifying backlash after leaving would have to be endured. The fact that so few former Korean presidents had enjoyed good lives after retirement proved the point. In contrast, the position of chairman of ID Group would last as long as one didn't make any major mistakes. Though there was still much to be done, he would simply have to build it into a position that surpassed even the presidency.
The next day, September 6th, news arrived that Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia had formally declared independence from Russia. At that moment, Yoo Jae-won finally began his phone call with a Russian.
"Hello? This is Mikhail Ivanov, the former representative of the Moscow branch."
An awkward English voice came through the receiver. The sound quality wasn't great either. That was to be expected—Mikhail Ivanov wasn't in America but in the midst of chaotic Moscow, Russia.
"Hello! It's a pleasure to meet you. This is Yoo Jae-won, chairman of ID Group. You can just call me 'Jay' if my name is difficult to pronounce."
"Yes, Chairman Jay. Please call me Mikhail as well."
His English carried a distinct Russian accent, making it quite unique. He spoke slowly, and one had to wait patiently for responses. If they could use ID Talk, the connection would be much faster, but Russia still lacked proper internet infrastructure, making that impossible. Even the capital of a major nation was in this state.
"I heard from Kevin Johnson. You're looking for an expert skilled at recruiting capable people."
Yoo Jae-won couldn't guess exactly how Kevin Johnson had explained things.
“Not recruitment in the suspicious sense—more like scouting,” he quickly corrected himself. The word “recruitment” carried an uncomfortable implication, as though he were trying to lure someone into something shady or illegal.
"Ah, scouting. That's exactly it. I'd like to know what specifically you have in mind."
Mikhail's voice carried a note of urgency. It seemed he was feeling the country's turmoil and rapidly deteriorating economic situation firsthand. Moreover, three countries including Latvia had just formally declared independence today. Those who had been holding onto hope were now forced to resign themselves to reality. Especially Mikhail, who ran Microsoft's local branch and also sold computer hardware and parts—IT was a business highly sensitive to economic conditions, so he would be feeling the impact far more intensely than ordinary people.
"It's exactly as I said. I'll find the experts I want and scout them for ID Group. If they wish, I'll also help them settle in America—"
"What?! America?"
Mikhail suddenly cut in, preventing Yoo Jae-won from finishing his sentence. His voice had grown twice as loud from sheer surprise.
Did he have some aversion to America? No—the opposite was true. He sounded as delighted as someone living in Seoul who had just been told they could move there. Yoo Jae-won had momentarily misunderstood because of the unfamiliar Russian accent.
"Yes, though working in America would require passing U.S. immigration screening, so I can't make any guarantees. If entry is denied, you would have to work in Europe or Korea instead."
"Ah, I see. Still, that's something."
Fortunately, Mikhail showed no resistance to the idea of leaving the country. However, the people Yoo Jae-won actually wanted weren't Mikhail himself, but the talented individuals working in Russian research institutes, universities, and companies.
"I've recently established an organization called ID High Tech Research Institute. Those who are scouted will belong to it. Their compensation will be at the level of American researchers. The salary starts at five thousand dollars per month, with bonuses as well. There will also be royalties based on research achievements."
"Hah! Five thousand dollars? Not rubles? And monthly, not annually?"
"Since you'll be working in America, the salary should naturally be paid in American dollars. Yes, it's monthly."
According to Yoo Jae-won's research, even Russian researchers didn't receive particularly high salaries. While ordinary urban workers earned about 250 rubles per month, researchers earned around 500 rubles. The current exchange rate was 0.545 rubles per U.S. dollar, meaning 500 rubles equaled roughly 272 dollars. Earning only 272 dollars after working an entire month seemed barely enough to survive. At least under the planned economy, prices had been extremely low, allowing people to live comfortably until the early 1980s. But with the collapse of the Soviet Union, the economy had been devastated, and now even obtaining food with that money had become difficult.
To Russians, five thousand dollars was an enormous sum—large enough to tempt even Mikhail, who had run a substantial business in Moscow. Of course, this was in the context of Russia. In America, where the cost of living, rent, and daily necessities were far higher, five thousand dollars a month wasn't an astronomical amount. Still, it wasn't a small sum either; it was enough for a family of four to live comfortably with money left over.
"Do you think many people will come?"
"Are you joking? Even if you offered only five hundred dollars instead of five thousand, there would be more people wanting to go to America than trucks could carry."
"Would the Russian government not be displeased about losing talent?"
"Not at all! They're in the middle of workforce reductions. They'd probably thank you for taking people off their hands."
Yoo Jae-won found that hard to believe, but it spoke volumes about how deep Mikhail's dissatisfaction with the Russian authorities ran.
"Understood. Then I'll officially appoint you as ID Group's scout. Your salary will be set at ten thousand dollars. I hope you'll bring me many talented individuals."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!"
For Mikhail, this was a golden lifeline that had descended during a time when he had been worried about bankruptcy.
"Um, Chairman, there's something I should mention. In Russia, there are a few things that need to be done before work can begin."
Yoo Jae-won wondered if he meant bribes. Russian officials' corruption was world-famous. Without greasing palms under the guise of expediting fees, nothing ever went smoothly. The mafia was also rampant, and in some regions their power exceeded that of the government. Yet Mikhail's answer was slightly different from what he had expected.
"Well, to conduct proper scouting activities, I would need a certain level of reputation. But my reputation isn't quite at that level."
Kevin Johnson had indeed recommended the right person. If it had been someone driven purely by enthusiasm, they would have insisted they could handle everything themselves. Mikhail was objectively assessing his own capabilities and identifying what he lacked. After all, if a complete stranger suddenly offered a large sum of money and suggested moving to America, most people would be suspicious first. That would make scouting impossible and only breed wariness. Mikhail was pointing this out.
"Understood. Then I'll invite you to America soon. I'll also give you an official position."
Normally, that would be the end of it. Coming to America, taking photos with executives, and having a few articles published would be enough to establish Mikhail Ivanov as a recognized figure. But Yoo Jae-won went one step further.
"Also, once the first successful scout is made, I'll personally visit Russia to bring that person over."
"Thank you! Then no one will be able to interfere with my activities."
The reputation of ID Group and Yoo Jae-won had already spread widely even to frozen Russia. It had begun with the ID Office Security Challenge. Because of the ten-million-dollar prize, many Russians had submitted entries. After that, news about ID Group had occasionally been covered in Russia as well. Then, with the global launch of Android 1.0 and the accompanying massive marketing campaign, ID Group's recognition had soared. In such circumstances, a personal visit from Yoo Jae-won would be a major event.
"Ah, regarding the scouting targets, I'll prioritize your judgment. However, there are also people our group's information team has identified, so when I send you their names, please make scouting offers to them as well."
"Of course, Chairman."
At the beginning of the call, there had been considerable awkwardness. Now, respect had naturally crept into Mikhail's voice. Though he hadn't yet signed an employment contract, he had clearly come to regard Yoo Jae-won as his superior.
"And I already have some people in mind. Andrei Sakharov, Vladimir Vekselberg, and Eugene Kaspersky. Please contact these three first."
"Andrei Sakharov, Vladimir Vekselberg, and Eugene Kaspersky. Is that correct?"
"Yes, exactly. Though I don't know their current locations."
The 1990s in Russia were far too chaotic. There were no internet records, and newspaper libraries weren't properly maintained either. When creating his master plan, Yoo Jae-won had tried to include as much information as possible, but nothing had matched up, so he hadn't been able to find their specific whereabouts at this point in time. They would only rise to prominence after 1996—still a long way off.
"Understood. By the way, is Andrei Sakharov the person I'm thinking of? The director of the Russian Federal Nuclear Center, Dr. Andrei?"
As expected of a local, the name alone was enough to trigger recognition.
"That's right!"
As Mikhail had said, Andrei Sakharov was a renowned Russian nuclear physicist. He was an expert not only in nuclear power generation but also in nuclear bomb manufacturing. Mikhail would naturally wonder why the owner of an IT group was suddenly trying to scout a nuclear physicist. But this too was part of Yoo Jae-won's larger plan. After Russia's collapse, Andrei Sakharov's chosen destination had been North Korea. North Korea's nuclear development program had only begun in earnest after recruiting nuclear physicists who had flooded out following Russia's economic collapse. Andrei Sakharov had played a leading role, and thanks to his know-how, North Korea had been able to overcome obstacles that would otherwise have been insurmountable given their level of technology. Vladimir Vekselberg was the same. Originally an expert in satellite launch vehicles, after moving to North Korea he had made significant contributions to ballistic missile development. The remaining person, Eugene Kaspersky, was neither a nuclear physicist nor a missile expert. As a computer security specialist, he was at least somewhat aligned with ID Group's field.
"Nuclear power is the clean energy of the future, after all. I'm just preparing in advance. The space industry is important too."
Clean energy, his foot. While nuclear power plants appeared cheap to operate, the cost of handling nuclear waste after power generation was astronomical. The enormous disposal costs, combined with severe environmental destruction, made nuclear power the most expensive option among all power generation systems when waste management was factored in. Yet people still perceived it as clean energy.
"Understood. If you or the group decide on something, I'll gladly follow. Please give me any instructions you have."
Mikhail seemed simply amazed that names he knew had come from Yoo Jae-won. He didn't even ask why Yoo Jae-won wanted to scout nuclear physicists.
With the phone call to Mikhail Ivanov, Yoo Jae-won's Russian talent hunt proceeded at lightning speed. Since Mikhail alone couldn't cover all of vast Russia, Kevin Johnson recommended two more people to hire, forming a scouting team. The hiring was done formally, just as Yoo Jae-won had promised. Kevin Johnson first went to Russia to collect their resumes and prepare employment contracts. On the way back, they all came to America together, took photos with Yoo Jae-won, and toured ID Group. They were also provided with excellent rooms at five-star hotels. Mikhail and the other two scouts were deeply moved. Before Russia's fall, they had all been people of considerable status, but as circumstances deteriorated, their quality of life had plummeted. Now that ID Group was treating them properly, loyalty couldn't help but take root. Yoo Jae-won hoped they would work diligently and bring back every last talented individual from Russia. Not only would this benefit ID Group, but it would also help prevent rogue states like North Korea from causing unpredictable trouble. To that end, Yoo Jae-won spared no expense. He provided generous salaries and equipped them with everything necessary for scouting activities—Armani suits, top-tier German cars, fine watches, and entertainment allowances. He provided these because they would be representing ID Group in Russia. Of course, the assets were registered under ID Group's name.
Having received treatment far beyond anything they had imagined, the scouting team's sense of belonging to ID Group was overflowing. After returning to Russia, Mikhail's team began their activities in earnest. The winds of the American Dream were slowly beginning to blow across the frozen lands of Russia.