Jeju's Green Vision
Yoo Jae-won had made a major business decision for 1995 right there in his mobile application processor seat, but his work was far from finished. Still, only lighter tasks remained, so he rose from his chair with a sense of ease. His next order of business was to inspect the lands that President Hwang Jae-hong had spent the entire year acquiring while practically living on Jeju Island.
In truth, there was no real need to go this far. Land acquisition had already surpassed ninety percent of the original target, so announcing the business plan would suffice. Jeju Provincial Office approval was practically secured as well. In the twenty-first century, Jeju would suffer from reckless development, but at present the island thirsted for progress. Under these circumstances, ID Group's investment in Jeju was something the province would welcome with open arms. With the Jeju gubernatorial election scheduled for the following year, officials were determined to accept the project at any cost to secure votes. Yoo Jae-won understood Jeju's appeal well enough to begin immediately, yet he still wished to walk the land himself and gauge its true scale before unveiling the development plan. That desire had shaped the on-site visit.
Consequently, he had no desire to drag along a long train of presidents and executives. He instructed the Nextcomcast team to rest briefly before departure, then assembled a modest group: Kim Dae-seok, Lee Hyun-woo, President Hwang Jae-hong, Lightning Bolt's President Bolt along with a few of his staff, and finally President Stefan of ID Entertainment. Of course, security could not be neglected even on Jeju, so four bodyguards followed in two vehicles as usual.
“It's lovely.”
Seeing the island in person stirred deeper emotions than he had expected. He had visited Jeju several times before his regression, and comparing those memories with the present proved unexpectedly enjoyable. Places like Woljeong-ri and Gimnyeong Beach, now crowded with cafés, still retained a vivid local atmosphere and natural charm he had never felt in the future. The same held true for the coastline stretching between Hyeopjae and Gwakji in the west. After stepping out of the car, he walked along the shore, letting the fresh sea breeze and scenery recharge a mind that had grown slightly weary.
He diligently captured the surroundings with the digital camera he always carried. Naturally, the photos were destined for his Power Blog.
“Do you have any specific policies in mind for Jeju's development?”
After the pleasant interlude, as they walked back toward the vehicles, Lee Hyun-woo, head of the Strategic Planning Office, asked the question with careful restraint. It was understandable; Yoo Jae-won had only issued instructions for land acquisition and had never shared concrete development details.
“I have no intention of developing the coastline itself. We'll preserve the natural environment as it is and simply lease a limited number of cafés and restaurants along the roads to local residents. Instead, I want to connect these coastal walking paths into a single circular trail that lets visitors experience the entire island.”
“A circular trail, sir? Like… the Camino de Santiago?”
“Oh? You're familiar with the Camino de Santiago?”
As expected, the head of Strategic Planning was remarkably well-read. The Camino was a world-renowned walking route, yet it had not yet been introduced in Korea. Surprisingly, Lee Hyun-woo knew of it. President Bolt, who might have been expected to recognize the reference, merely tilted his head in confusion.
“But I thought you mentioned building resorts or tourist hotels?”
“Those will be constructed inland, integrated with the theme park.”
“A theme park, sir? Like Disneyland?”
“Exactly.”
Lee Hyun-woo, Kim Dae-seok, and President Bolt all stared at Yoo Jae-won in astonishment. When one thought of theme parks, Disneyland was the first image that came to mind, followed by the movie-studio parks in Hollywood. Each was enormous, filled with attractions and shops built around characters and intellectual properties owned by Disney or the studios. A theme park lacking such cultural elements was nothing more than a steamed bun without filling—incapable of reaching true first-class status.
“Given the sheer size of the land you've purchased, Chairman, filling it with ordinary rides alone would feel insufficient.”
“That part will be handled by President Stefan here.”
At Yoo Jae-won's words, President Stefan, who had been quietly admiring the tranquil scenery of Hyeopjae Beach, looked up in surprise. He had come to Jeju believing the trip was a reward for the game's success and had completely let his guard down—only to be told that developing the theme park was now his responsibility.
“Ah, there's no need to look so startled. What I mean is that ID Entertainment already possesses its own game IPs. We can use those to design the theme park.”
In the theme-park industry, Disney and Hollywood studios led the way because of the films and animations they owned. In other words, recognition. The more audiences watched their movies, the more their characters gained fame, and that fame automatically elevated the theme parks as well.
“Games are no different.”
Until last year, single-player games had dominated the market, and players typically finished one title quickly before moving on to the next. With the shift to online, however, a culture of deeply immersive play was rapidly taking root. When a large-scale MMORPG caught on properly, it could easily last ten years—sometimes even half a century. That was precisely what Warcraft had achieved. Thanks to its steady influx of multiplayer users, Warcraft's share of Battle.net had never once declined. Once hundreds of thousands or even millions of people had played a game, natural affection for its characters blossomed. Building a theme park on that foundation could create an experience rivaling Disneyland.
“An extraordinary plan.”
Those who had accompanied Yoo Jae-won to inspect the land stood with mouths agape at the sheer scale. Yet none of them felt it was an unrealistic fantasy. They had witnessed firsthand the remarkable performance of ID Entertainment's games, starting with Warcraft. Moreover, the group had already produced astonishing products ranging from PC operating systems to mobile phones from nothing. The idea of raising a dazzling theme park on empty ground no longer seemed impossible.
“Lastly, President Bolt also has an assignment.”
“Yes, sir. I believe I can guess what it is.”
At Yoo Jae-won's direct address, President Bolt of Lightning Bolt answered at once. His quick wits apparently matched his dexterity.
“You do? Then why don't you tell me?”
“Running cars that spew exhaust on an island where the natural environment remains so vividly alive would be a discordant sight. Furthermore, once the development plan you envision is realized, tourist demand will surge, accelerating environmental destruction. The solution is electric vehicles.”
Yoo Jae-won responded with applause. Exactly right. One thing that had always saddened him about Jeju was how late electric vehicles had been introduced. Because the island was a closed environment, strong leadership from decision-makers could have accelerated adoption dramatically and reduced pollution just as quickly. This time, he intended to change that properly.
Of course, the environmental impact of electric vehicles depended entirely on how the electricity was generated. Building coal-fired power plants to run electric cars would be the height of foolishness. Yoo Jae-won's preferred alternative was nuclear power, with a future transition to nuclear fusion—the most realistic long-term solution. Mentioning fusion at this point might sound like science fiction, but for Yoo Jae-won it was a problem with a known answer.
“Does that mean we should stop making electric bicycles?”
“No. You'll make both electric bicycles and automobiles. Once the car is complete, you can begin testing it right here on Jeju.”
The provincial governor had declared he would welcome any investment from ID Group with open arms. Yoo Jae-won assumed the same would hold true for electric vehicles. Although Jeju was not yet a special self-governing province and coordination with the central government would be necessary, no one would block the arrival of cutting-edge electric-vehicle technology.
“I can look forward to a splendid electric car, then?”
“Of course! I have every confidence.”
The technical gap between electric bicycles and electric automobiles was considerable, yet President Bolt brimmed with confidence. Building electric cars had always been his dream. Practical constraints had forced him to start with bicycles—an endeavor that had been far from easy, given how tight his finances had been. Meeting Yoo Jae-won had finally allowed him to produce proper electric bicycles, culminating in this year's best-selling Model 2. Just when he might have paused for breath, a far greater challenge had been placed before him. President Bolt found he rather liked that about Yoo Jae-won. Imagining his own electric cars gliding across the beautiful island of Jeju sent a thrilling current through his entire body.
“By the way, when would be the best time to announce the Jeju development plan?”
Anyone who mattered already knew Yoo Jae-won was buying land on Jeju, but no one knew what he intended to build on it. Quite a few people had purchased plots earlier in the year, watched prices rise modestly, and sold for a quick profit. They might feel satisfied now, but once the massive investments—including the theme park and electric-vehicle projects—were announced, they would scramble to return.
“Right when the local election campaign begins would be ideal,” Lee Hyun-woo said.
This would be the first popularly elected local government. Candidates needed tangible achievements to win, and nothing impressed voters more than attracting large-scale investment from a company like ID Group. Smooth development required local-government cooperation, and timing the announcement this way would make securing that support far simpler.
“Yes, that timing sounds perfect.”
Yoo Jae-won agreed readily.
With the Jeju tour concluded, he returned home. All that remained was to fly back to the United States and close out 1994 with a spectacular finale: the launches of Quake and the Android 95 series.
“Hmm.”
In the darkened study of the family home, Chairman Choi Hyun-hee of Ilseong Group sat lost in thought. Two objects resting on the antique wooden desk, its grain still clearly visible, occupied his mind. One was Evercall IH-100, the latest mobile phone from Ilseong Electronics. Beside it lay the Tiffany Phone from ID Technology.
The second-generation mobile service, which had encountered no significant issues during its trial run, would launch nationwide on February 1 of the following year. In preparation, Ilseong Group's electronics subsidiary had begun full-scale production of its own phones, with a launch scheduled for January 1. The problem was the stark difference in packaging compared with the competing Tiffany Phone. Though both came in cardboard boxes, Evercall IH-100 felt like a razor box with different printing, while the Tiffany Phone resembled a jewelry case—elegant and refined. Its matte paper in Sky Mint color with a soft texture was unmistakably superior. Moreover, while Evercall's box was covered with detailed feature descriptions on every surface, the Tiffany Phone bore only the ID logo on its bottom face. The silver foil made it eye-catching, yet the design was almost absurdly simple. The underside listed a few specifications in brief lines, but the contrast with Evercall's information-heavy packaging was glaring.
Opening the boxes revealed an even greater disparity in the actual products. Both phones shared a slim, bar-shaped form, yet Evercall was narrower in width and more than twice as thick, causing it to bulge noticeably in a pocket. The most striking difference, however, lay in the LCD screens that displayed the phone's status. Evercall used a monochrome display with mediocre resolution. The Tiffany Phone featured a high-resolution color LCD. Furthermore, both front and back were reinforced with glass, lending an unmistakably premium feel. Ordinary glass was fragile and prone to scratches, but the glass used in the Tiffany Phone was Corning's special Gorilla Glass. It reportedly remained unscratched even when carried alongside coins or car keys.
Functionally, the gap widened further. Both devices used Qualcomm CDMA modems, so data speeds were comparable. Yet Evercall required its antenna to be fully extended for optimal reception, whereas the Tiffany Phone's antenna was invisible. The Tiffany Phone also incorporated a built-in camera and a sound chip capable of playing high-quality AAC and MP3 files. When it came to operating-system convenience, comparison became almost meaningless. While Evercall could barely manage text messages, the Tiffany Phone allowed users to check internet email directly—provided they paid attention to the tiny font.
Naturally, consumer preference diverged sharply. Market research indicated that the majority of consumers planned to choose the Tiffany Phone when signing up for mobile service. Its projected market share exceeded sixty percent—an overwhelming figure. Overseas reactions were similar, with over fifty percent favoring the Tiffany Phone. The limited edition featuring a genuine Tiffany diamond embedded in the back panel was reportedly commanding astronomical premiums. As a result, the Tiffany Phone had instantly surpassed traditional powerhouses such as Motorola and Nokia—companies Ilseong Electronics had long aspired to overtake.
“I simply cannot understand it.”
This was the part Chairman Choi Hyun-hee found incomprehensible. The fate of Korean-made products had always been to be “cheap but reasonably functional.” In other words, value-for-money goods. No matter how well they were made, surpassing Japanese, European, or American products had been considered impossible. Yet Yoo Jae-won had appeared out of nowhere and accomplished exactly that. Consumer surveys revealed that people did not even perceive ID Group's products as “Made in Korea.” The Egg series, which had taken the computer industry by storm, had already demonstrated this trend. With the Tiffany Phone, that perception had exploded into full view.
“This is not luck. Absolutely not.”
If Choi Hyun-hee dismissed the achievement as mere luck, he would be denying all the effort he had poured into elevating Ilseong Group to world-class status. Several years earlier he had proclaimed “New Management” in Frankfurt and devoted himself to transforming the group's constitution. He had invested heavily in design, aggressively recruited talent, and personally staged dramatic performances—burning defective products from Ilseong Electronics, even units that had just left the factory—to drive down defect rates. He had identified the difference between first-class and second-class companies as technology and quality control. The Evercall was the fruit of that grueling labor, yet its rival stood on an entirely higher plane.
ID Group had developed its own color LCDs for mobile phones, sourced flash memory chips through a partnership with Mirae Electronics, and even acquired equity in Qualcomm. Calculating the timeline, those moves had begun around the same period Choi Hyun-hee had announced his New Management initiative. That meant Yoo Jae-won had already been planning the Tiffany Phone back then—an utterly chilling realization. From LCDs to batteries, the technology was protected by patents, making imitation extremely difficult.
“And why, exactly, is that fellow so hostile toward us?”
An even more troubling factor was that this man who could see the future harbored no goodwill toward Ilseong Group. Tracing the origins of that hostility, Choi Hyun-hee had to admit a degree of personal fault. Instead of meeting Yoo Jae-won himself, he had sent subordinates to fetch him—an arrogant misstep for which he was now paying a steep price. Most of the investment funds ID Group had brought into Korea had been used to purchase shares in Ilseong Group's key affiliates, with stakes exceeding ten percent in most cases. As a result, accounting audits and board meetings were constantly disrupted. Any discovered irregularities immediately triggered prosecutorial complaints. Several of Choi Hyun-hee's closest aides were currently imprisoned, and normal company operations had become impossible. Even the third-generation succession process had been halted. Although Ilseong Motors was recently performing well, offering some breathing room, the thought of the shares held by ID Investment still gave him a headache. At this point, Choi Hyun-hee was seriously considering offering a premium to buy back Ilseong Group's shares—though that would require raising several trillion won. Domestic merchant banks or Japan's ultra-low-interest banks could provide the funds easily enough, yet the transaction required the other party's agreement, and no matter how he probed, Yoo Jae-won showed no sign of selling.
“There he is at last.”
Chairman Choi Hyun-hee's reverie, which had begun with the Tiffany Phone, did not last long. The satellite television he had left on in one corner of the study was finally broadcasting the segment he had been waiting for. Even though the research institute was already conducting reverse engineering on the Tiffany Phone, he had come to the study late at night for this very broadcast.
The anchor seemed to be experiencing connection issues and dragged out his introduction unnecessarily. An advertisement even played before the live feed finally appeared on screen. There, inside the cathode-ray tube, stood Yoo Jae-won. With the unmistakable confidence of a successful young man, he strode onto the stage.
The sight of him glittering like a jewel filled Choi Hyun-hee with envy.