The Reluctant Call

The difference of opinion was significant, Gerald Levin admitted. But negotiation was about finding common ground through endless dialogue, wasn't it? The soft voice of Time Warner's chairman came through the phone. Just as Ted Turner had predicted, the call arrived exactly three days after Time Warner's stock price had plummeted.

"Hmm, is that so?"

—Indeed. If we walk away every time our positions differ, how can any negotiation exist? You're not thinking of withdrawing from the merger, are you?

Yoo Jae-won replied in a short, indifferent tone that bordered on rudeness, but the response that followed was far more elaborate. Their situations were simply too different. As he had assured his executives, Yoo Jae-won was prepared for negotiations to drag on for two years or more. Nextcomcast's operations would not suffer without Time Warner's broadcast networks or cinema library. Gerald Levin, however, faced far greater pressure from major shareholders and the board. Both the board and the public widely believed Time Warner stood to gain far more from the merger. While a small faction opposed the deal, the supporters vastly outnumbered them.

When the New York talks collapsed after a single meeting, Chairman Gerald Levin had assumed the young Yoo Jae-won simply lacked negotiation skills. But once the stock price crashed, he came under unprecedented pressure. His own position was now at risk. Having clawed his way to the top, he could not bear to lose it so meaninglessly. Swallowing his pride, he made the call himself.

The unfortunate part for him was that Yoo Jae-won already knew every detail of his predicament. Thanks to Vice Chairman Ted Turner, who was firmly on Yoo Jae-won's side, and the intelligence reports streaming in from the New ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠York team, he understood the situation as clearly as if he had witnessed it firsthand.

"Of course I'd like to keep talking."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

—That's good to hear. How about I come to San Francisco this time?

"I'd appreciate that. But the real issue isn't resuming talks—it's the content of those talks. If you bring something we can't possibly accept, we're just wasting time."

—Ah, don't worry about that. I've already conveyed your position to the Time Warner board. They've adopted a much more forward-looking stance than before. I'm certain you'll be satisfied.

Was the first requirement for leading a media giant like Time Warner sheer bravado? Even Gerald Levin, whose personality was the polar opposite of Ted Turner's, proved to be no different. Despite having received nothing but scolding from the board, he spoke as though he had personally secured better terms.

—When would be convenient?

"Hmm, give me a moment. Let me check my schedule."

In truth, Yoo Jae-won could meet anytime. His calendar for the next month was nearly empty of business trips; he had planned to focus on programming from home. Still, the projects were numerous. Beyond developing the operating system that was his main task, he intended to build internet services and various algorithms that would prove useful later. That workload alone would overwhelm most developers, yet he was also running several secret projects he could never discuss with others.

Even so, carving out time to meet Chairman Gerald Levin again was no great burden. There was only one thing he wanted to protect.

"How about this Friday?"

Despite carrying far more work than most, Yoo Jae-won was determined to keep his weekends free. Rest on weekends was what allowed him to work effectively during the week.

—That works. I'll see you in San Francisco this Friday, then.

After setting the appointment, Yoo Jae-won ended the call and returned to his work. He immediately resumed the task he had been doing before the call. His monitor displayed a programming development tool with a remarkably modern interface: Android Programming Studio, the recently released integrated development environment. Built on the C++ language, it handled coding, compiling, debugging, and packaging—everything needed to create applications for the Android operating system—in a single tool.

While he could have used existing professional development software, Android Programming Studio featured enhanced assistive functions that minimized repetitive tasks and included auto-completion. Once mastered, it offered significantly higher productivity. Priced at a modest fifty dollars, it had not yet gained widespread adoption in the industry, though it was distributed free to schools. Yoo Jae-won expected meaningful market share within a few years.

At the moment, he was using the tool to develop an image analysis algorithm. The program boasted powerful versatility: it could run on a single PC, operate on large-scale systems, or connect to real-time video feeds such as CCTV. Accuracy was the key challenge, and Yoo Jae-won intended to push it to a level no other company could match. Naturally, this was a massive project that included machine learning technology. It could not run on a PC and required data-center-scale systems. Yet when integrated with a search engine, ordinary internet users could access it easily. Yoo Jae-won was not particularly concerned about the high hardware requirements.

"I wonder how things are going in Korea."

While coding, a stray thought crossed his mind. With former Prime Minister Jeon Myeong-heon having stepped down and the national audit generating unnecessary controversy, Yoo Jae-won had cut himself off from outside news once he began working. Suddenly curious about the current situation, he launched his web browser—only to be greeted by an error page stating he could not connect to the internet.

He remembered that he had unplugged the network cable before starting work. Even Yoo Jae-won was human; when deeply focused, he sometimes reflexively reached for the internet and wasted time. If he only checked what he needed and disconnected, it would be fine, but a moment's distraction could trap him on irrelevant pages for an hour. The hyperlink, a core component of the WWW, was dangerously effective at leading one astray. In the early days of the internet, there had been little to see, so he had returned quickly. Now that the world had grown enormously, a single glance could cost him an hour. That was why he usually disconnected when he needed to concentrate.

"Everything's about us again."

As usual, Yoo Jae-won woke early and checked Nextcom's news page first. Unlike Korea, American news articles updated at irregular times, but the front-page stories refreshed after he slept. The headlines from major East Coast dailies had definitely changed. Checking the news on his computer each morning had become his daily routine.

More than a week had already passed since March arrived, bringing weather warm enough that opening the window in the morning no longer felt cold. Nevertheless, the biggest topic in American economic media remained the merger between Nextcomcast and Time Warner. Ten days earlier, biologists in Roslin, Scotland, had successfully cloned a fully grown sheep and named her Dolly, sparking enormous controversy. President Bill Clinton's decision to allow federal funding for human cloning research had also made major headlines. Dolly's cloning had used genetic manipulation technology, which triggered widespread debate. Many viewed it as humanity challenging the realm of God and expressed concern about the technology being applied to humans. President Clinton's move directly contradicted those sentiments. From the administration's perspective, however, the decision stemmed from the urgent need to avoid falling behind nationally by delaying investment in cutting-edge technology. Naturally, this created controversy. According to reports from Washington D.C., Democrats planned to introduce legislation that would fund research for technological acquisition while banning actual human cloning.

Yoo Jae-won felt only envy toward the briefly controversial issue. Even at the basic stage, the U.S. government responded with remarkable agility by taking the lead. In Korea, by contrast, the handling of the Hanbo Steel bankruptcy that had erupted a month earlier remained sluggish. Naturally, Yoo Jae-won supported the American approach. He opposed human cloning itself, but believed biotechnology research should continue to prepare for the future.

"Where ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did all those biotechnology articles disappear to?"

The discussions about biotechnology and ethics that had briefly heated up at the end of February were nowhere to be found now. Even on Nextcom's news page, biotechnology stories only appeared if deliberately searched for, and the coverage was thin. Instead, news of the Nextcomcast-Time Warner merger once again dominated the front page. Nextcom's news page naturally catered to netizens' tastes. Moreover, the settlement payments to media outlets were proportional to click counts, and those amounts had grown explosively alongside Nextcom's expansion. Some smaller internet newspapers and webzines reportedly operated solely on these payments. Consequently, media companies now prioritized articles that could secure high click volumes. This caused the lead stories from various outlets to rapidly converge on a single issue—and right now, that issue was the merger.

Using his administrator ID, Yoo Jae-won checked the view counts for each article. As expected, the merger-related stories had several times more clicks than the biotechnology ones.

"Do people really care this much about stocks?"

The highest-clicked articles were, predictably, about stock prices. One of the agreed merger principles was that the new company would be formed by combining the shares of Nextcomcast and Time Warner. This arrangement reflected the confidence of both Yoo Jae-won and Chairman Gerald Levin that their respective companies were larger. The assets of both firms would be merged, and their shares converted into shares of the new company. The critical factor was the conversion ratio. Naturally, shares of the larger company would convert at a higher ratio, while the smaller company's shares would convert at a lower one. The owner of the larger company would also gain management control of the merged entity. The key question was how to value each company's assets. Vice Chairman Remington, acting on Yoo Jae-won's behalf, had fought fiercely in New York with Time Warner's representatives. The meetings resembled battles, and rumors flew after each one, causing stock prices to fluctuate wildly. Many individuals and investment firms had bought Time Warner shares after hearing about the merger and were monitoring the news in real time, so volatility was inevitable. The sheer scale of the merger's impact had even prompted the federal government to begin reviewing the deal, briefly dampening enthusiasm.

"At this point, the peak of the IT bubble must be in sight."

One of Wall Street's legends told of an investment firm president who saw a shoeshine boy trading stocks on the street and immediately liquidated all his investments. Days later, the Great Depression struck. Thanks to the various changes Yoo Jae-won had set in motion, even he no longer knew exactly when the IT bubble would burst. Yet the objective indicators from the Dow Jones Industrial Average and Nasdaq, combined with the current state of internet sentiment, made it clear that the end was near.

"We need to finish the merger before that happens."

The framework of the merger was set. What remained was Nextcomcast's relisting. Once the market valuation of Nextcomcast was determined through the relisting, the ownership distribution ratio for the merged company could be finalized. Yoo Jae-won was confident that Nextcomcast's total market capitalization would surpass Time Warner's. With the global IT boom at its peak, the company that reigned as the emperor of the internet was about to enter the market. Even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yoo Jae-won could not help but feel anticipation. If his prediction held, management control of the merged company would naturally fall into his hands. Time Warner would undoubtedly install various safeguards, making it difficult for him to exercise full authority, but guiding the company in the right direction would still be entirely feasible.

For reference, they had decided that the company taking the lead in the merger would place its name second in the new entity's title. Time Warner, still unwilling to face reality, had offered this concession as a gesture of generosity. Chairman Gerald seemed to believe that even if the new company were named Nextcom Time Warner, retaining management rights would be the real prize. In truth, this clause was Yoo Jae-won's consideration. He had no doubt whatsoever that the merged company's name would ultimately be Time Warner Nextcom.

Ding!

While Yoo Jae-won was lost in rosy visions of the future, an alarm sounded. It was a high-priority alert he had not seen in a long time. The sender was Vincent Greenhill, president of ID Investment.