The Big Deal
In the midst of a dazzling fireworks display, Yoo Jae-won and his close associates, along with the invited VIPs, moved to the penthouse on the top floor of the 101 Building. A celebratory banquet had been prepared there for the guests.
The penthouse occupying the uppermost level of the 101 Building had naturally been built exclusively for Yoo Jae-won. Although he currently lived in the United States, he anticipated spending far more time in Korea in the coming years, so he had prepared accordingly. The house in Deokjin-ri was a comforting space for the heart, but it was hardly suitable for conducting business. Thanks to his great-uncle’s efforts in creating a real-life version of Shameless Village, Deokjin-ri had changed considerably, yet Jae-won wanted to preserve that cozy hometown feeling until the very end.
“Won’t it take quite a while for all the guests to come up? There are only two elevators, right? And one of them is exclusively for cars,” Tiffany asked in a slightly worried voice. She had come up to the penthouse early with Yoo Jae-won. It was understandable—more than a hundred guests had been invited to this very penthouse.
While Yoo Jae-won already knew the full preparations in detail, he immediately relayed Tiffany’s question to Hwang Jae-hong.
“There is no need to worry about that at all.”
Hwang Jae-hong, who had been listening attentively, answered promptly. Although over a hundred guests were expected, they could all be transported in an instant using five ultra-high-speed elevators. Only one high-speed elevator went directly to the 101st floor, but the other four connected to the city-line observatory on the floor immediately below. From there, guests could take the stairs up to the penthouse. Naturally, passing through the entrance required identification.
The 101 Building had another nickname: the Perfect Intelligent Building. While anyone could enter the lower commercial facilities, access to the business sectors starting from the middle floors and the residential areas on the upper levels was strictly controlled by access cards. Temporary guest passes had been issued to everyone visiting the 101 Building today, so there would be no major issues.
Besides, when people thought of a penthouse, they usually imagined an excessively luxurious and spacious home for one person. Common sense suggested that fitting a hundred people inside at once would be impossible. The 101 Building’s penthouse casually shattered that common sense.
The floor area of the 101st floor was almost identical to that of the first floor. Moreover, the ceiling height was twice that of a normal floor, so even with a hundred people inside, the space still felt remarkably open. ID Group and Mirae Construction had poured their heart and soul into the penthouse, to the point where it could confidently be called the most luxurious space in all of Korea. This wasn’t mere talk—the construction cost for the penthouse alone exceeded 80 billion won out of the building’s total 1.5 trillion won budget. Nearly 200 million won per square meter had been spent.
At first, Mirae Construction had wondered if it was even possible, but once they tried, they discovered it was. They began by laying Italian milk-white marble on the floors and selected only the highest-grade materials for every aspect of the interior. All electronic products, along with the paintings and sculptures decorating the space, were first-class items. The 80 billion won budget had been used with impeccable precision.
What truly stole the show was the car-exclusive high-speed elevator visible the moment one entered the penthouse. On one side of the penthouse sat five supercars that could be driven directly up from the underground parking lot via the dedicated elevator. At the center of the penthouse hung a massive crystal chandelier, and beneath it stood a glass soundproof room containing a grand piano. With five sides made of thick reinforced glass, the room provided perfect sound insulation even during vigorous playing, and in an emergency, it could double as a shelter.
The paintings on the walls were anything but ordinary. While it was impolite to judge art purely by price, none of the works in the penthouse were cheaper than the supercars parked in the garage. Even Tiffany, who had grown up without lacking for anything, had been left utterly speechless when she first saw the penthouse the day before.
“As expected, Director Hwang, you and Alfred the butler are both so reliable.” Tiffany nodded after listening to Hwang Jae-hong’s report. Although her question had been in English, her reply came in Korean, so no translation was needed this time. Since she had begun dating Yoo Jae-won, she had studied Korean diligently, and now simple conversation and listening posed no problem for her.
In any case, from the very beginning of the penthouse’s construction, no one had visited the site more often than Hwang Jae-hong. Even after construction ended and interior work began, he had paid more attention to completing the penthouse than to his own newlywed home. No matter how much his fortunes had changed after meeting Yoo Jae-won, it seemed a bit excessive, but since he genuinely enjoyed it, no one could stop him.
Thanks to such thorough preparation, Hwang Jae-hong had become the foremost expert on both the 101 Building and its penthouse. Having taken full charge of this opening ceremony and banquet, he could answer every question without hesitation.
Ding!
After waiting a short while, an alert sounded.
“Ah, it looks like the guests are arriving.”
Soon, prepared music began to play. Yoo Jae-won greeted the guests ascending the stairs with a bright smile, and the official celebratory banquet began in earnest.
The banquet proceeded extremely smoothly. Thanks to Hwang Jae-hong’s flawless preparation, not a single minor problem occurred. Moreover, the guests were all left speechless by the overwhelming splendor of the penthouse, instinctively feeling humbled. Although they were all influential figures in politics or the economy, none of them had ever seen such a magnificent space anywhere in Korea or the rest of the world.
From Yoo Jae-won’s perspective, however, the party felt rather dull. Had it been left to his and Tiffany’s tastes, they would have invited idol or hip-hop artists, blasted exciting music, and encouraged everyone to drink freely. But with the average age of the guests well over fifty, that was out of the question. As a result, the musicians who had been invited at great expense performed only classical pieces.
At least the format of the banquet followed an American-style buffet, allowing guests to move freely rather than remain seated. There was no boredom from being stuck in one place. Still, as the host, Yoo Jae-won had little time to enjoy the food or music. Meeting with the VIPs who had gone out of their way to attend took priority.
These were people who rarely attended other events, yet they had dragged their heavy bodies all the way here for this very opportunity. Even a few minutes of one-on-one conversation with Yoo Jae-won was an incredibly rare chance. It also showed just how much ID Group’s prestige had grown year after year.
It was inevitable. The industries ID Group operated in were experiencing explosive growth. The growth rate of both computer software and hardware had reached its absolute peak, and the company held a terrifying presence in the enterprise system market and the systems required by countless internet companies. On top of that, there was the Tiffany Phone, which had become an icon of the era.
After its initial launch in Korea, the Tiffany Phone had been released in the United States and Europe, where its overwhelming performance completely dominated the premium smartphone market. The Tiffany Phone 2, released earlier this year, had already sold over four million units in just six months.
ID Entertainment, founded in 1994, had also firmly established itself as a leading company in both film and gaming. Titles like Warcraft 2, Diablo, and Quake 2 had achieved massive success, and the ID Tech Engine 3 used to create them had become the unquestioned standard for 3D game development.
Even more frightening was the fact that one division had produced even greater results than technology or entertainment combined: ID Investment.
The Nasdaq was where America’s leading technology stocks were concentrated. ID Investment, which had focused heavily on Nasdaq investments, had seen its returns skyrocket alongside the index’s growth. What had been just over 20 billion dollars in 1994 had now swelled to 70 billion dollars.
Qualcomm, in which ID Investment was a major shareholder, had seen its stock price explode after the commercialization of CDMA. Both Intel and AMD continued their steady upward trajectories. The stock price of Android Inc. needed no explanation—having traded around 36 dollars, it was now on the verge of breaking through 100 dollars.
Finally, Nextcomcast had completed its internal reorganization and begun aggressive management, causing its subscriber numbers to surge. More than half of all internet-connected PCs in America accessed the web through Nextcomcast’s high-speed service, while its cable TV subscriber count had also exploded and was approaching ten million.
Moreover, Nextcom had captured over thirty percent of the American e-commerce and internet advertising markets. The most expensive advertising rates on the American internet belonged to Nextcom’s main banner, followed by the small finger-sized ads located just below the login section.
Based on these results, Nextcomcast had officially announced its acquisition of a broadcasting network this summer, sending shockwaves through the American broadcasting industry. Some companies were hurriedly reinforcing their management rights to avoid hostile takeovers, while others were showing active interest in being acquired. It was a business involving unimaginable capital movement—something unprecedented in Korean history.
As a result, some American public opinion had begun to suggest that too many critical industries were becoming concentrated in Yoo Jae-won’s hands. Naturally, Korea was in an absolute frenzy. People had heard the name Yoo Jae-won so often that they had started to wonder if he was being over-hyped. Only now did they realize he had actually been underestimated in his home country.
It was at this perfect moment that the opening ceremony of the 101 Building took place, and invitations bearing Yoo Jae-won’s name arrived. Everyone came running as if they had just received a golden ticket.
“Chairman, this is Kim Kwang-il, Chief of Staff from the Blue House.”
Among those invited, the first person to begin a conversation with Yoo Jae-won was Kim Kwang-il, the closest aide to President Kim. Although President Kim had only about a year left in his term, Kim Kwang-il was attending as the president’s representative, allowing him to speak with Jae-won before Jeon Myeong-heon.
Of course, Jeon Myeong-heon and Yoo Jae-won already shared a close relationship. They frequently spoke on the phone and shared everything that needed to be said, so there was little they needed to discuss here. However, with so many eyes watching, protocol sometimes became necessary. After Kim Kwang-il, Jeon Myeong-heon was scheduled to speak next.
“Chief of Staff Kim, thank you for coming. Your presence makes this occasion even brighter.”
“Haha, how could I possibly refuse when the chairman of ID Group—the pride of our nation—personally sent me an invitation? The President was also very pleased to hear that Seoul has finally gained a world-class landmark worth boasting about.”
Yoo Jae-won and Kim Kwang-il began their conversation with very standard pleasantries. There was no power struggle or subtle battle of wits. Whatever instructions President Kim had given him, Kim Kwang-il’s attitude was remarkably humble.
“Um, Chairman Yoo.”
“Yes, please speak.”
“The new year is not far away. I suppose we can expect next year’s outlook as well?”
“Of course.”
There was a reason for such humility. When he spoke of Yoo Jae-won’s economic forecast, what he really meant was that he was curious about the contents of ID Investment’s annual outlook report.
Since 1995, at Yoo Jae-won’s direction, ID Investment had released an economic outlook report at the beginning of each year. He had instructed them to base it strictly on facts and remain extremely conservative. President Vincent Greenhill had followed those instructions faithfully.
The reaction to the report had been explosive. While everyone else offered rosy predictions, ID Investment’s report stood out for its unusually pessimistic tone. It was like throwing cold water on President Kim, who had wanted to boast about joining the OECD and opening the KOSDAQ market as his own achievements.
In reality, banks and comprehensive financial companies that had recklessly expanded credit based on the report had faltered for a time. Investors began scrutinizing corporate balance sheets more strictly, applying the brakes slightly. The data cited in the report was all real, and the debt-to-asset ratios of corporations had been far worse than anyone imagined.
Thanks to this, Korea’s economic growth rate for 1996, which had originally been expected to exceed seven percent, ended up in the high six percent range because of ID Investment’s report.
“It seems the President is curious about our report once again?”
“How could he not be? When ID Investment coughs, the entire Korean economy catches the flu.”
Kim Kwang-il’s tone carried a clear plea: Please write something positive this time. Of course, it had no effect on Yoo Jae-won.
“I thought you might feel that way, so I prepared something.”
Yoo Jae-won reached into the inner pocket of his suit and handed an object to Kim Kwang-il. The chief of staff looked at it with a puzzled expression. Being of an older generation, he apparently didn’t recognize an item that was currently popular among university students and office workers.
“It’s a USB memory stick. When you plug it into a computer, you’ll see the report file inside. This isn’t the full presentation version—just a summary of the key points. You can read that.”
The USB stick had 8 megabytes of storage and cost around 40,000 won—a relatively affordable price. Late last year, Mirae Electronics had succeeded in mass-producing 64Mbit flash memory chips, which made it possible to manufacture USB memory sticks at very low cost.
USB memory sticks had gained enormous popularity among students and office workers who frequently needed to transfer document or image files. Being far more durable than fragile, low-capacity floppy disks, they were rapidly replacing them and becoming mainstream at an astonishing pace.
Inside the USB given to Kim Kwang-il was a 2-megabyte ID Office file containing a summary of ID Investment’s report on the Korean economy in 1997. Its contents accurately predicted the coming foreign exchange crisis with almost prophetic precision.
However, Yoo Jae-won did not expect this report to change the thinking of President Kim, high-ranking government officials who shaped economic policy, or private-sector business leaders. The slightly sour expression on Kim Kwang-il’s face as he held the USB was proof enough of that.
Kim Kwang-il had not asked to see the 1997 outlook because he genuinely wanted to read it. He had hoped the report would contain positive content. Once he returned to the Blue House and read the document, he would likely explode in anger rather than rejoice.
Yoo Jae-won, who had expected exactly this reaction, had not handed over the document thoughtlessly. The USB now in Kim Kwang-il’s hand would later become a sharp dagger, ready to stab the Blue House, economic bureaucrats, and the media that only spread false news on command, when the massive catastrophe known as the foreign exchange crisis finally arrived.