Cattle, Trucks, and Semiconductors
Technopia 1993
“Heh heh, don’t get your hopes up too high. Just because we’re holding a summit doesn’t mean unification will happen overnight.”
Jeon Myeong-heon seemed pleased with Yoo Jae-won’s wholehearted response. Excited, the older man began to ramble about the stubborn pride of the North Korean working-level officials they were in contact with. They had nothing, yet they were bursting with self-respect, which was exhausting their own South Korean counterparts. It would have been simpler if they had just openly demanded money or rice, but having to prop up their pride while still providing support was proving incredibly frustrating.
“At least they responded positively to the cattle support you proposed. They say they’ll bring about three thousand head north in the first batch around the time the Expo ends.”
Yoo Jae-won nodded. In his previous life, North Korea had gratefully accepted the herd of cattle driven north by Chairman Jeon Myeong-heon. It wasn’t because they were thrilled about eating beef; it was because the animals could be used for farming. Although the ideological confrontation between North and South was still raging, reality had already ended in North Korea’s defeat. The socialist experiment had long since collapsed, and North Korea was no exception. They had abandoned the pretense of building a socialist paradise years ago and were now a country ruled by Juche ideology under the Kim Il-sung one-man system.
“From what I see, they seem to like cargo trucks more than cattle,” Jeon Myeong-heon grumbled.
When moving the herd to the North, they obviously couldn’t drive the cattle on foot. Hundreds of cargo trucks would have to be mobilized, and those trucks were also being prepared by Mirae Group. The magnanimous Jeon Myeong-heon apparently intended to hand over not only the cattle but the vehicles as well.
“Their industrial facilities are so outdated that the trucks will be a huge help with farming,” Yoo Jae-won said.
If one were measuring drama, this support was nothing compared to the cattle drive of his previous life. Back then, it had been the tail end of the Arduous March, so both the cattle and the modern trucks had been an enormous boon to the North. The situation had been so dire that Kim Jong-il, the second-generation dictator, had even left behind instructions to give Mirae Group special treatment in inter-Korean economic cooperation. But things were different now. The Arduous March had not yet begun, which explained why the North was still acting so stiff. At the same time, their food situation was not yet as catastrophic. That did not mean they had surplus rice like the South; even now, food was chronically short and ration quotas were frequently missed. Still, the cattle and trucks would be a significant help. If the North showed sincerity in return, the likelihood that they would grant Mirae Group preferential rights to develop the North remained high.
“By the way, you do know the Blue House has been in an uproar because of you, right?”
Jeon Myeong-heon abruptly changed the subject from North Korea.
“Because of me?”
Yoo Jae-won tilted his head. With so many projects underway, the question was too vague for him to guess.
“You know, President Clinton.”
At the older man’s explanation, Yoo Jae-won finally understood. During the groundbreaking ceremony for the North American Information Superhighway at the Coyote City data center, he had used Al Gore to extend an invitation to President Clinton to attend the Daejeon Expo. That must be what Jeon Myeong-heon was referring to.
“Why would that cause trouble?”
“You fool, don’t you know we still haven’t held a Korea-U.S. summit yet?”
“Eh? We haven’t? I thought I saw an article saying it was scheduled for early April.”
“They were planning to visit the U.S. then, but Clinton’s side said the schedule didn’t work and pushed it back. When you invited Clinton, they wondered if something might actually come of it. If it really happens, it would mean holding the summit right here at home.”
Yoo Jae-won now understood the commotion at the Blue House. It was customary for a newly elected Korean president to visit the United States after taking office. President Kim Young-sam had apparently intended to follow that tradition around April, and the article Yoo Jae-won had glanced at must have been about that plan.
“They’re still in chaos. With Vice President Al Gore coming, there’s a mountain of preparations. Just listening to all the details gives me a headache. Besides, we don’t even have a vice president in this country. The question of who will stand beside Al Gore as his counterpart is another problem. Thanks to you, Chairman Yoo Jae-won, it looks like I’ll be the one taking the hit.”
Was that a compliment? He was smiling, so it probably was. In any case, the basic rule of diplomacy was that equals met equals. In military talks, if the other side sent a one-star general, you sent a one-star general. Sending two stars would look like submission, while sending a colonel with a bamboo flower insignia instead of a general would be an insult. In this situation, thanks to Yoo Jae-won, the prime minister would temporarily stand on equal footing with a vice president. For Jeon Myeong-heon, that was hardly a bad deal.
Still, observing the current diplomatic situation, Yoo Jae-won sensed that the flow was somewhat different from his previous life. He had been too focused on events and business to notice earlier, but he vaguely recalled that a Korea-U.S. summit had taken place around this time in his past life. Pretending to sip his tea, he quickly entered his Memory Palace and searched the July 1993 news library. The results came back instantly. Dozens of articles reported that Clinton had visited for three days and two nights from July 10 to 13. Yet now, aside from the invitation Yoo Jae-won had extended through the Expo, there was no concrete mention of Clinton’s visit to Korea. It seemed his actions had created a significant variable for both Clinton and Korea. Still, Yoo Jae-won was not particularly worried. The July 10 visit in his previous life had not left any major mark on history. There had been no joint declaration. All that remained were photos of President Kim jogging with Clinton and large-scale protests by activist university students. The protests had been fueled by basic anti-American sentiment and opposition to pressure to open the rice market. Even now, the fear that opening the agricultural market would ruin farmers was widespread. Although Al Gore was coming instead of Clinton because of Yoo Jae-won, that was not necessarily a bad thing. Al Gore would surely bring a personal letter from Clinton inviting President Kim Young-sam to the United States. Furthermore, if Clinton’s reciprocal visit took place at the end of this year or next, it could produce far better results when combined with an inter-Korean summit. The thought filled him with both anticipation and anxiety.
Of course, if he looked at it coldly, the chances of failure were high. Although the North was currently taking a conciliatory stance, they would eventually launch their nuclear program regardless of whether it succeeded or failed. That was their famous dual-track strategy of simultaneously pursuing dialogue and confrontation. Still, there were advantages compared to before. He had already blocked Russian nuclear scientists from entering the North, and Yoo Jae-won himself now wielded considerable influence in the United States. The best course was to leverage these strengths to support both inter-Korean and Korea-U.S. summits as vigorously as possible and produce the best possible outcome.
“And another thing,” Jeon Myeong-heon continued. “They’ve decided to push for military service exemptions for national talents who receive the Nobel Prize or awards of comparable stature.”
It was a proposal he had never expected. If they were talking about someone who would receive an award comparable to the Nobel Prize under the current circumstances, there was only one person it could apply to: himself. In the mathematics community, it was already considered certain that Yoo Jae-won would win the 1994 Fields Medal for proving the Poincaré conjecture. The only remaining question was whether he would receive it alone or share it with others who had made additional mathematical advances. Yoo Jae-won did not expect a solo award. The Fields Medal had never been awarded to a single recipient before, and that was unlikely to change.
“In truth, this should have been done much earlier. Olympic medalists, as well as those who achieve good results in baduk or music, receive exemptions. It only makes sense to extend the same courtesy to someone who wins the Nobel Prize or a comparable award.”
“Ah, but……”
It was a fair point, but the suggestion was so blunt that Yoo Jae-won found himself at a loss for words.
“Don’t worry, Jae-won. This old man will take care of it. Our country’s military service law has always been strange. Either send everyone to the army or create exemption rules that apply to all. They exempt people for being good at sports, playing the piano well, or playing baduk well, but studying gets no benefits at all.”
Yoo Jae-won could only scratch his head at Jeon Myeong-heon’s words. In truth, military service was not a major problem for him. His own abilities were more than enough to overcome it. Of course, he had no intention of being dragged in like before. That did not mean he planned to use illegal methods either. There were plenty of legal exemption routes. Furthermore, if military exemption somehow failed, he was already considering obtaining U.S. citizenship as a last resort. Spending two and a half years in the military would waste at least several trillion won—possibly tens of trillions—for Yoo Jae-won. If the bill Jeon Myeong-heon was preparing passed this year, however, he could receive an exemption through the Fields Medal without having to take extreme measures.
“Thank you.”
The unexpected gift made the atmosphere between the two men even warmer.
“Ah, this is a personal request. Don’t feel burdened—make your decision entirely as you see fit.”
The final matter Jeon Myeong-heon brought up was about Ilseong Group’s Choi Hyun-hee.
“That fellow Choi Hyun-hee seems to have an enormous amount on his mind these days.”
He was referring to the ongoing acquisition of Ilseong Group subsidiaries by ID Investment that had begun the previous year. It had been an enormous issue. A massive twenty billion U.S. dollars had flowed into Korea, most of it used to buy up shares in Ilseong Group’s major subsidiaries. Ilseong Electronics had the largest share, but stakes had also been acquired in trading, life insurance, securities, heavy industries, and even less popular listed companies like Ilseong Planning and Ilseong Resort. At first, everyone had assumed Ilseong Group had formed a special relationship with ID Group and received investment, but that notion was quickly dispelled. ID Investment had made it clear that this was not a simple equity investment and had aggressively moved to join Ilseong’s board. The people subsequently appointed as Ilseong directors were mostly figures from labor and academic circles who had deep grudges against the group. Moreover, under the pretext of enhancing shareholder value, they had begun internal audits of the subsidiaries and filed complaints against existing executives and senior officers for breach of trust and embezzlement. Naturally, those accused had fiercely resisted. Even the greediest person in Korea would not steal from Ilseong. The breach of trust and embezzlement had, in fact, been carried out under the tacit approval or direct orders of the owner family. After all, even the owner of a company could not freely spend corporate funds. To use the money as they wished, they had to go through the dividend process and receive only what was legitimately theirs. Dividends, however, naturally incurred income tax—up to 25 percent in Korea. When a quarter of the money was automatically taken by the state, it was only natural to think of creating a slush fund. What had once been common practice was now being halted. The courts were also different from before. The emergence of Kim & Jung Law Firm, backed by the ID Foundation and Yoo Jae-won’s shadow, had already significantly removed Ilseong’s influence from the judiciary. Unlike in the past, when light punishments had been the norm, actual prison sentences were now being handed down, forcing Ilseong’s executives to tread carefully. Rumors that Chairman Choi Hyun-hee was suffering from hair loss were circulating, which gave a rough idea of the extreme stress he was under. At the same time, these events had made it clear to everyone in Korea that the bad blood between Yoo Jae-won and Chairman Choi Hyun-hee was no ordinary rivalry. Yet no one knew the cause. Even Choi Hyun-hee himself was in the dark. After all, no matter how imaginative a person might be, it was impossible to guess that the enmity between Ilseong and Yoo Jae-won had begun in a previous life.
“What did Chairman Choi ask of you, Grandfather? Did he want ID Investment to sell back the Ilseong shares they hold?”
“Ah, that’s not it.”
Jeon Myeong-heon lightly shook his head at Yoo Jae-won’s question.
“That family is all pride. They wouldn’t complain even if they were dying tomorrow.”
Yoo Jae-won nodded in agreement. The Choi family had never lived as subordinates from birth until death. Yoo Jae-won had even experienced it firsthand. Even when they had committed a mortal sin, they had been so brazen that he had momentarily wondered if he was the one at fault.
“They want to introduce the Coppermine process. They said they’re willing to pay a fair price.”
Yoo Jae-won nodded at Jeon Myeong-heon’s words. It was one of the options he had anticipated when he heard it was a request from Choi Hyun-hee. For any company that lived and died by semiconductors, adopting the process was mandatory. Whether they used this technology or not would determine whether their semiconductor performance reached the highest or lowest levels. In the semiconductor field, performance was the absolute metric. Once a generational gap emerged, companies discontinued old products rather than continuing to produce inferior ones. Even NASA, which led the space development sector, sometimes had to source discontinued products from the secondhand market because they could not obtain them otherwise. Ilseong Electronics had been the most reluctant among all companies to adopt the Coppermine process because of Choi Hyun-hee. In fact, it had seemed as though they had no intention of adopting it at all. Now it appeared they had simply assumed Yoo Jae-won would reject the proposal without even hearing it.
“I’m fine with that.”
“Hm? Are you serious?”
“Yes!”
Jeon Myeong-heon had clearly expected a refusal. Emotionally, that would have been the correct choice. But Yoo Jae-won’s calculations were different. Ilseong Electronics already accounted for a significant portion of ID Investment’s Korean investments. By delaying the introduction of the Coppermine process, new sales had begun to plummet sharply, and the EDO RAM they had been producing had become obsolete and turned into dead inventory. Naturally, the stock price had crashed, resulting in substantial losses.
“Instead of money, I’ll trade if they give me equity in Ilseong Electronics.”
At Yoo Jae-won’s words, Jeon Myeong-heon blinked.
“Heh heh, Chairman Choi is going to have quite the headache. If they don’t adopt the technology, Ilseong Electronics will go under, but handing over more shares will weaken their control.”
Having long managed the giant corporation Mirae, Jeon Myeong-heon immediately grasped Yoo Jae-won’s intent.
“Of course not. Since ID Investment holds a large number of Ilseong Electronics shares, we can’t let the stock price collapse.”
Even as he said this, he recalled the saying about gradually becoming the largest shareholder through averaging down. There were real cases of super ants who had invested in small venture companies and ended up becoming the largest shareholder. There was no law saying the same could not happen with Ilseong Electronics.
“Understood. I’ll pass it along.”
After enjoying his productive time with Jeon Myeong-heon in Seoul, Yoo Jae-won headed south the next day. His destination was, of course, Daejeon.