The Day After the Big Deal
The day after Time Warner Nextcom. Yoo Jae-won accompanied Tiffany all the way to San Francisco Airport to see her off.
“When will you be able to come back once you leave?”
“Hmm, I’ll only know once I get there. As you know, the atmosphere at Grandfather’s company is completely different from ours. They say if you get good evaluations, you can finish early, so I’ll do my best.”
Tiffany shrugged as she spoke. Though her tone was deliberately firm, she couldn’t quite hide the trace of anxiety in her voice. Their affection had grown so deep that this moment felt almost like sending a lover off to the military. It wasn’t entirely different, either.
Tiffany, who had graduated from Stanford University the previous year, was taking some time to quietly explore her career options. Though she always wanted to keep Yoo Jae-won by her side, she had her own concerns about her future. At first, she had considered starting an IT venture using her major. Watching her boyfriend transform his own IT startup into a massive corporation in the blink of an eye had strongly pulled her in that direction.
Her career path changed in an instant because of a phone call from her grandfather. Yoo Jae-won didn’t know exactly what Fredrick Taylor II had said. But after that call, Tiffany’s long deliberation came to an end. She decided to join Chevron. More precisely, she would work in the data analysis division at Chevron headquarters. It was a role that utilized her computer engineering background, analyzing raw data collected by Chevron’s oil exploration teams to identify promising regions for new oil fields.
It was an unexpected decision for Yoo Jae-won, but not a bad one. Chevron headquarters was located in San Ramon, just across the bay from San Francisco—practically next door. Moreover, supporting her maternal grandfather’s family business could work in her favor when it came time for inheritance. Still, Yoo Jae-won’s positive outlook on the Chevron succession stopped there. He didn’t expect even a one percent chance that Tiffany, who had started as an intern, would inherit the entire company. As the only daughter of the eldest daughter, Marina, Tiffany was far down the line of succession, and there was still Jacob, the designated heir. The Memory Palace’s news library even contained articles confirming that Jacob had inherited Chevron.
“Has the internship location still not been decided?”
“Nope!”
“What kind of system is this?”
“Grandfather can be a bit eccentric sometimes.”
The only concern was that Tiffany would have to complete her Chevron internship before officially starting at the San Ramon headquarters, and she still didn’t know where or what she would be doing. The internship would last a full three months, meaning they would be forced into a long separation.
“If you can, keep ID Talk online, and always carry your phone.”
At least there was one silver lining: thanks to advances in telecommunications, 2G mobile service was now available in most parts of the United States. It wasn’t as reliable as in Korea, especially in mountainous regions, and speeds weren’t always optimal, but in urban areas there would be no inconvenience. Fredrick wouldn’t send his beloved granddaughter to some remote oil facility in the middle of Texas for her internship, would he?
“I should be the one saying that. You behave yourself too. If you so much as glance at another woman, you know what’ll happen, right?”
Tiffany raised her cute little left fist in a threatening gesture. She wasn’t the only one worried about her partner. If anything, her anxiety was greater. After all, if Yoo Jae-won were left alone, countless women would throw themselves at him.
“Of course.”
Yoo Jae-won raised his left hand in reply. On the ring fingers of both their left hands gleamed silver rings. They were matching couple rings they had ordered in Korea. Though the finish was modest and unflashy, the sentiment they carried was genuine.
Having reaffirmed their feelings, they held hands once more. But the moment of parting came quickly. As the flight time approached, Tiffany had to go through boarding procedures. Yoo Jae-won stayed until her plane safely took off from the runway, then turned away.
“Let’s head to headquarters.”
After seeing Tiffany off, Yoo Jae-won’s next destination was, of course, the company headquarters.
Flip-flap.
It was the sound of a newspaper being shaken vigorously.
“Boss, have you heard the news?”
Remington was waving a newspaper excitedly the moment Yoo Jae-won arrived at ID Technology’s headquarters.
“If you shake it like that, even someone with excellent dynamic vision won’t be able to tell what it is.”
“Ah, here it is.”
At Yoo Jae-won’s words, Remington handed over the paper. It was a San Francisco local newspaper, and the front page bore the single large headline: BIG DEAL.
Naturally, the “big deal” referred to the merger between Yoo Jae-won’s Nextcomcast and Time Warner. If approved, it would create a combined company worth over one hundred billion dollars, merging traditional media—broadcasting, film, publishing, and newspapers—with the leading internet company, resulting in unprecedented market dominance. The tone was, of course, negative. The monopolistic excesses of early twentieth-century American corporations had left Americans with a visceral understanding of the dangers of monopoly.
“Yes, it’s true. Vice Chairman Ted Turner of Time Warner made the proposal a few days ago. I had some reservations myself, but once we had a rough valuation, I decided to give it a try. Ever since yesterday, the articles have been pouring in.”
“Gasp! My goodness!”
Remington was genuinely shocked by Yoo Jae-won’s confirmation.
“Weren’t you in Korea for your engagement ceremony?”
Tiffany’s parents hadn’t come to Korea solely for the 101 Building opening ceremony. Their original purpose had been the formal meeting of the families and the engagement ceremony, which had been quietly held in Deokjin-ri without incident. The rings they had confirmed at the airport that morning weren’t mere couple rings—they were engagement rings. They had planned to announce it to the press soon, but the news of the Time Warner–Nextcomcast merger talks had taken over the headlines first, making the timing of the engagement announcement awkward.
“Anyway, whenever you make a move, Boss, you create something enormous.”
Remington shook his head in disbelief.
“Sorry. I can be a bit impulsive at times.”
Yoo Jae-won offered an apologetic explanation for not having given Remington or the other executives prior notice.
“Not at all. That’s part of your charm, Chairman. Besides, you’ve never failed so far.”
Remington waved his hands dismissively.
“Chairman, the executive meeting preparations are complete.”
At Kim Dae-seok’s report, Yoo Jae-won and Remington rose together.
“You’ve all seen the newspaper articles, so you already know, but Time Warner has proposed a merger with Nextcomcast. I’m viewing it positively, though nothing has been finalized yet. We haven’t decided on a single detail regarding the merger structure. Now we’ll have to compare what each side brings to the table. If the terms aren’t right, we can always walk away.”
Everyone in the meeting room listened intently to Yoo Jae-won’s words. Remington, seated beside him, and the executives joining via video—Vincent Greenhill, Choi Kang-wook, Kevin Johnson, Hwang Jae-hong, and Henry Samuel, the key figure in this matter—all wore similar expressions. The newly installed video conferencing system was advanced enough to capture these subtle nuances in real time. Three high-definition projectors displayed life-sized images of the remote participants on a 21:9 widescreen. The conferencing software, personally redesigned by Yoo Jae-won, had been optimized for responsiveness, with HD-quality video and enhanced security through real-time encryption. Even if industrial spies or intelligence agencies intercepted the packets, they wouldn’t be able to decipher the content.
“If I had to guess, the most likely structure would be combining the assets of both companies into a single integrated entity and dividing the shares accordingly. Time Warner doesn’t have the cash to buy out Nextcomcast outright.”
The executives nodded again at Yoo Jae-won’s assessment. Wall Street had already valued Nextcomcast’s assets at a minimum of fifty billion dollars. In the rapidly growing internet sector, Nextcomcast held the largest territory, and it was also making aggressive inroads in cable television. While countless Nasdaq-listed IT companies dazzled investors with flashy technical rhetoric, many lacked clear revenue models. Nextcomcast, however, had a perfect one: monthly subscription fees from broadband internet and cable TV customers, plus dedicated network leasing fees from corporations, schools, and government organizations. The steady recurring revenue was substantial, and with new subscribers increasing every year, its growth potential—the key factor in stock valuation—was unmatched. Even a media giant like Time Warner couldn’t generate that kind of capital. Therefore, the merger would most likely proceed by pooling assets and allocating shares in the new combined company proportionally.
—Ah, so the valuation of each company’s assets will be crucial.
Henry Samuel cut straight to the heart of the matter.
“Exactly.”
Management control would depend on asset size. Neither Yoo Jae-won nor Time Warner would willingly relinquish control, so a complete absorption by one side was impossible. This meant they would inevitably establish a joint management structure through a board of directors and voting procedures. The past AOL merger had followed a similar path, which was why the expected synergies had never materialized—AOL’s modem-based network couldn’t effectively distribute Time Warner’s content, and the corporate cultures of the two companies were drastically different. With AOL Time Warner as a clear cautionary tale, Yoo Jae-won intended to generate unprecedented synergies this time. That would require extensive preparation.
“That’s why I’d like our major subsidiaries to undergo due diligence equivalent to an IPO review during this process.”
“Which major subsidiaries are we talking about?”
Remington asked cautiously.
“Technology, Investment, Nextcomcast, Entertainment, and the Korean branch—those five should be sufficient.”
The presidents of the designated companies flinched. Due diligence often uncovered unexpected issues. But not everyone was apprehensive. A review on par with an IPO review also raised the strong possibility of an actual listing. Although ID Group didn’t offer stock options—the Silicon Valley standard—an IPO would bring substantial bonuses, making the outcome effectively the same. The executives’ anticipation rose accordingly.
“And I’ve also been thinking about organizational restructuring in light of this merger.”
Yoo Jae-won planned to personally oversee the merger between Time Warner and Nextcomcast. But handling it entirely on his own would be a waste of manpower. His greatest strength lay in his legendary programming ability. Two years had passed since Android 95’s release. It was time to begin preparations for the next version, 98. He couldn’t afford to be absent from that project. There were countless other areas that required his programming expertise as well. Therefore, he needed someone with sufficient authority to lead the Time Warner–Nextcomcast merger in his stead.
He had considered Henry Samuel, but the man’s talents and temperament suited Nextcomcast’s operations and telecommunications technology development far better. If the merger was ultimately approved and a joint management structure emerged, someone with exceptional political acumen would be required. That person was Remington.
“So I intend to create the position of Group Vice Chairman.”
Yoo Jae-won operated the iWorks connected to the projector and brought up a slide. It displayed an organizational chart explaining the new vice chairman positions. ID Group’s subsidiaries had previously been connected vertically to Yoo Jae-won in a simple structure. Now two vice chairman positions would be added—one overseeing North America, the other East Asia, including Korea and Japan. Naturally, the East Asia vice chairman position belonged to Choi Kang-wook.
“With Chief of Staff Choi Kang-wook’s promotion, Executive Secretary Kim Dae-seok will be promoted to fill the vacant chief of staff position. President Remington’s promotion will leave the ID Technology presidency vacant, which will be filled by Legal Team Director Ellen.”
It was a bombshell announcement, yet everyone accepted it readily. No one else possessed the seniority or capability to serve as vice chairman within ID Group.
“The Strategic Planning Office is currently working on the organizational restructuring based on these changes. Once the process is complete, we’ll hold inauguration ceremonies, so please keep that in mind.”
—Yes, Chairman!
The connected presidents responded loudly. Remington and Choi Kang-wook looked dazed. They had never expected positions above president or chief of staff, yet new vice chairman roles had been created, bringing promotions with them. Still, these were not positions for idle relaxation. Remington would have to take full charge of the Time Warner merger. Choi Kang-wook’s immediate responsibilities wouldn’t change much, but before long he would be entrusted with an even more critical mission. The first signs of that mission had already arrived from Korea.
Korea was in an uproar. Yoo Jae-won had always thrilled the Korean public with groundbreaking news. But this latest report from across the ocean—the merger talks between Nextcomcast and Time Warner—was more shocking than anything before. If the merger actually went through, it would create a media conglomerate worth over one hundred billion dollars, with Yoo Jae-won playing a leading role. It was an earth-shattering development.
Just as Korea was boiling over with excitement, a splash of cold water arrived in the form of breaking news.
—Hanbo Steel files for bankruptcy!
Hanbo Steel, the core subsidiary of the Hanbo Group, which had ranked fourteenth among Korean conglomerates, had gone bankrupt.