Kicking the Ladder
The 15th presidential election held on December 18, 1997, carried multiple layers of significance. Just as it had in the past, this election was no different. In his previous life, the greatest meaning of the 15th presidential election had been Korea’s first-ever peaceful transfer of power. The conservative forces, which had never relinquished control of the government since the founding of the Republic of Korea, were made to pay dearly for triggering the IMF crisis. Interestingly, the margin between the winner and the runner-up was narrower than the margin of error in the final opinion polls. The ruling party’s candidate, Lee In-je, had bolted after losing the primary, splitting the conservative vote and allowing Kim Dae-jung to eke out a victory. Analysts later concluded that without Lee In-je’s independent run, the first regime change would have been impossible even after the IMF crisis erupted. True to form, Lee In-je never lost that habit; he spent the rest of his political career as a journeyman, switching parties countless times like a political phoenix. But this time there was no Lee In-je. Jeon Myeong-heon had to win solely on the strength of his own appeal.
“That makes me even more nervous.”
Yoo Jae-won’s anxiety finally slipped out as he watched the live vote-count broadcast on television. Tiffany, who had been sitting right beside him, caught the words immediately.
“Huh? Did something go wrong? Now that you mention it, there’s been a lot of talk about you in Korea these past few days. Did you make a mistake?”
Tiffany had fallen into a comfortable rhythm lately: weekdays in San Ramon, weekends at Yoo Jae-won’s house. When her schedule allowed, of course. This week she had taken vacation days, so she had been with him since Friday. That was why he had prepared a house for her in San Ramon, where Chevron’s headquarters were located. Yoo Jae-won had originally intended to help her find one, but her grandfather, Frederick, had already taken care of everything. He had arranged the house the moment he began calling her. Thanks to him, Tiffany now lived in a luxury home far beyond what someone her age could normally afford. Even so, the fact remained that she had left home and become independent. That was why it felt perfectly natural for her to come to Yoo Jae-won’s place in San Francisco on weekends instead of returning to her own house.
“I just don’t know who’s going to win yet.”
The television was streaming a Korean terrestrial broadcast in real time via the internet. On screen, the vote-counting program was in full swing. For the 15th presidential election, Korea had introduced an automated counting system for the first time. Ballots fed into the machine were tallied automatically and the numbers appeared instantly on the live broadcast. Even so, the initial sorting was still done by hand, so the count proceeded at a glacial pace. It was already approaching 10 a.m. in San Francisco, yet the gap between candidates remained small. All three frontrunners were running neck and neck. Yoo Jae-won had never doubted that Jeon Myeong-heon would win, but he had expected a decisive victory. The unexpectedly close margin left him unsettled.
“You mean Grandfather Jeon is falling behind?”
Yoo Jae-won, who had been glued to the screen, turned at Tiffany’s question.
“For now, yes. By the way, you sound pretty familiar with him. Did you get close at the 101 Building opening ceremony?”
“Yeah. Actually, I met him once before that. About five years ago?”
Yoo Jae-won had assumed the first time he introduced Tiffany to Jeon Myeong-heon was at the ID Global Headquarters opening. Hearing that they already had a prior connection surprised him.
“What was the occasion?”
When he asked for details, she explained it had been an informal gathering of oil company owners.
“An informal gathering? Still, Grandfather Jeon isn’t one of the Seven Sisters.”
“Come on, those people would get bored if it was only them. They invite presidents from all the oil-related companies. That’s where I saw Grandfather Jeon.”
Now that he thought about it, Mirae Group had acquired a refinery company about five years earlier—Far East Oil, which had been established with investment from Royal Dutch Shell. After the acquisition they renamed it Mirae Oil. That connection must have earned Jeon Myeong-heon an invitation to the informal oil executives’ circle. In any case, Jeon Myeong-heon’s relentless drive, despite his age, was remarkable.
“Wow! He’s finally pulling ahead!”
Tiffany’s excited cry rang out at the same moment. Returning his attention to the screen, Yoo Jae-won saw Jeon Myeong-heon’s vote count begin to climb noticeably. While the other candidates gained votes in the hundreds with each update, Jeon Myeong-heon’s numbers were rising by the thousands. It seemed the ballot boxes from regions with strong local bases had been counted first; now the boxes from Seoul and Gyeonggi Province were being opened. The tension that had gripped Yoo Jae-won since early morning finally eased a little. Even so, he could not bring himself to leave his seat. At the very least, he would not feel at ease until the “projected winner” headline appeared.
A few hours later.
—Thank you. This is all thanks to you!
“I didn’t do anything. It’s Grandfather’s ability.”
Yoo Jae-won exchanged pleasantries over the Tiffany phone. The caller was, of course, Jeon Myeong-heon. The moment the bold gold letters “Projected Winner” flashed across the television screen, the Tiffany phone had rung. Because he had assigned different ringtones to different callers, he could tell who was calling just by the sound without even looking at the screen.
The final results of the 15th presidential election showed Jeon Myeong-heon with 44 percent, Kim Dae-jung with 33 percent, Lee Hoi-chang with 20 percent, and the remaining 3 percent scattered among minor-party candidates. The numbers were slightly lower than the telephone polls conducted the day before the election. The controversy over Chun Doo-hwan’s death sentence, which broke just before voting day, had rallied conservative voters in Daegu and North Gyeongsang Province while causing some moderates to drift away, shaving roughly three percentage points off Jeon Myeong-heon’s peak support. There had been another minor incident that affected his numbers. Three days before the election—on the 15th—Jeon Myeong-heon had made an unexpected hospital visit that became a fairly big issue. A startled Yoo Jae-won had called immediately, only for Jeon Myeong-heon to calmly explain that he had used the “hospital card” just as he had in the 14th election, to divert attention from the Chun Doo-hwan controversy. It was a slightly disappointing moment. Yoo Jae-won appreciated the gesture of consideration, yet the hospital visit had once again highlighted Jeon Myeong-heon’s greatest weakness—his advanced age—and cost him a noticeable number of votes. Kim Dae-jung was already being criticized for his age; Jeon Myeong-heon was even older. Voters worried that if health issues struck while he was in office, it could become a serious problem. Among the three candidates, the youngest, Lee Hoi-chang, had made age his primary attack line against both rivals. In the end, however, the tide could not be turned. Korea’s 15th president was Jeon Myeong-heon.
—I can die without any regrets now.
He had not yet received the official certificate of election; only the “projected winner” caption had appeared on television. Still, a flood of emotions seemed to be washing over him.
“No, Grandfather. This is only the beginning. You have to fulfill every promise you made. You need to form a transition committee with trustworthy people as quickly as possible and start the handover process.”
Yoo Jae-won pulled Jeon Myeong-heon back to reality.
—Aigoo, I was just speaking figuratively. You really don’t act like a young man. When something good happens, you should jump around and enjoy it a little.
Jeon Myeong-heon grumbled as he returned to the present. For a moment Yoo Jae-won flinched. After all, while his body was young, the soul inside was old enough to be friends with Kim Dae-jung. Because of that, he had responded to the greatest joy a politician could experience—the presidential victory—with nothing but businesslike remarks. Celebrating out loud would have felt strange in the current atmosphere, so Yoo Jae-won quickly changed the subject.
“Understood. We can talk again later. For now, please prepare your acceptance speech. Offer some words of comfort to the two defeated candidates and include a message about the entire nation coming together to overcome the national crisis. That should be enough.”
—Of course I’m already working on it. You’ll attend the inauguration, won’t you? Given the times, we can’t make it too extravagant, but if you’re coming I’ll reserve a good seat for you.
“Of course.”
“Grandfather! Me too!”
Tiffany, who had been listening quietly, suddenly chimed in. Her Korean—listening, speaking, and even writing—was now flawless. She had even mastered the spelling rules that occasionally tripped up Yoo Jae-won himself.
—Oh, is Tiffany there with you?
“Yes, yes!”
—Of course Tiffany is invited as well.
Tiffany received an invitation on the spur of the moment. Since they were engaged, standing side by side at an official event would not be a problem, but she still wondered if it was appropriate. Both Jeon Myeong-heon and Tiffany looked pleased, however, so Yoo Jae-won decided that was enough.
Several days passed. Yoo Jae-won returned to work and resumed preparations for the 98 versions of Android and ID Office. He also had to review the daily reports and approval documents sent up by ID Group’s subsidiaries. If Yoo Jae-won had been an ordinary employee, the workload would have felt grueling. ID Group paid well but demanded intensity; there was almost no wasted time during the eight-hour workday. Yoo Jae-won, however, viewed it differently. He saw the employees as handling tasks that would otherwise fall to him. Every report and every approval document represented money, so even when his inbox filled up again the next day after he cleared it, he always felt a sense of satisfaction.
“Still, it would be nice to have a more efficient computerized processing system from now on.”
ID Group was already the company that used its internal messenger and email systems most efficiently for official business. When the company had been smaller, the current setup had been sufficient, but limitations were beginning to show. Reporters attached auto-sorting tags when uploading documents, yet the system still felt cumbersome. There were also reports that employees were relying on unofficial programs to handle their work. While ID Office was the alpha and omega of office software, organizing and processing the materials created with it was an entirely separate matter.
“I should start gradually computerizing the company’s entire workflow.”
Ultimately, Yoo Jae-won planned to introduce AI assistance as well, so full computerization was inevitable. He had originally targeted the year 2000, but ID Group’s successful trajectory had convinced him to move the timeline forward significantly.
“In that case, I’ll have to accelerate the AI development schedule too.”
The year 1998 was shaping up to be a nonstop year of work. ID Group already held countless secrets, and the number would only grow. Outsourcing the construction of an integrated computer system to another SI company was therefore out of the question. In-house development was the only answer, which meant Yoo Jae-won himself would have to dive into the coding. The task of normalizing the Korean economy would have to be entrusted more heavily to Vice Chairman Choi Kang-wook.
The alert sounded just as Yoo Jae-won was making his major resolution for 1998. It was a text message from his chief of staff, Kim Dae-seok.
Yoo Jae-won tapped his fingers on the desk like piano keys while he considered the message briefly.
“Then bring him here.”
—Yes, Chairman.
He could not simply turn away a man who had come all the way from Korea. Besides, there were matters concerning Korea’s mobile telecommunications policy that needed to be discussed.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell chimed. Kim Dae-seok had arrived with Chairman Ha Tae-won. A bodyguard opened the door and guided Ha Tae-won into the living room. Meanwhile, Kim Dae-seok entered the study and relayed the fragmentary information he had gathered while speaking with Ha Tae-won on the way over. If this had been a purely private visit, Yoo Jae-won would have answered the door himself, but since it was an official matter, he observed proper formality. Once preparations were complete, Yoo Jae-won stepped into the living room and came face to face with Ha Tae-won. Ha Tae-won, who had been waiting, saw Yoo Jae-won emerge from the study.
“Chairman! I beg you to show mercy to my father-in-law.”
With those incomprehensible words, Ha Tae-won bowed deeply at a perfect ninety-degree angle. Mercy? Yoo Jae-won had no idea what on earth the man was talking about.