The Launch of ID Electronics

The Matrix, but no matter what kind of fool Jeon Jae-gu might be, his proposal held no downside for Yoo Jae-won. Even if operating the factories was currently a loss due to the semiconductor market slump, the production facilities and human talent of Mirae Electronics possessed undeniable potential.

“As expected, I can always communicate well with my nephew.” Jeon Jae-gu’s voice came back noticeably brighter.

“Since my uncle puts it that way, it would be improper not to follow through. However, I have too many commitments to return to Korea myself. I must prepare the next Android version, visit Russia, and my schedule remains packed afterward. I will send Vice Chairman Choi Kang-wook in my stead.”

“Of course. I understand completely.”

Jeon Jae-gu seemed satisfied simply by the fact that the deal had closed. He responded with the generous air of a man who could afford to be understanding even when Yoo Jae-won said he would send a representative for a transaction measured in trillions of won. That was enough.

Yoo Jae-won had acquired a semiconductor plant whose future value overflowed far beyond sufficiency, while Jeon Jae-gu had secured a solid position as the legitimate heir by obtaining shares in the group.

A few days later, Korea once again grew feverish with news of Yoo Jae-won.

It was news that drew attention not only from Korea but from the entire world. After all, the three major electronics companies of Korea had been consolidated into a single entity under the ID Group banner. Although Yoo Jae-won had pursued the acquisition with semiconductors alone in mind, the addition of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the white goods divisions, research institutes, and everything else created a staggering scale.

Directly employed personnel easily surpassed one hundred thousand. When primary and secondary partners and other indirectly employed workers were included, the total comfortably exceeded one million. Even Yoo Jae-won had not fully anticipated this outcome when he exchanged his group shares for Mirae Electronics. Yet once the transfer was complete, he realized that all three of Korea’s major electronics companies now rested in his grasp.

Only Geumseong Electronics remained, and even that was merely ten percent the size of ID Electronics. Although Geumseong was also a comprehensive electronics maker covering everything from white goods to semiconductors, it could not compare in scale. The realization left Yoo Jae-won slightly tense. He worried whether the government would grant merger approval. The birth of an electronics company of this magnitude could easily lead to monopoly.

Fortunately, no such obstacle arose. On the contrary, the government quietly welcomed ID Group’s acquisition of Mirae Electronics. The country was still in the IMF era, after all. Moreover, the economic platform of candidate Kim Dae-jung—who was certain to win the presidential election in three days—centered on corporate restructuring through “big deals.” The directive was to abandon octopus-like expansion and concentrate on two or three core businesses.

There were risks of monopoly, yet the Korean economy had deteriorated to the point where only such consolidation offered any hope of self-sustained survival. Thanks to Yoo Jae-won’s earlier interventions, the intensity of the foreign exchange crisis was markedly lighter than in the original timeline. Still, Kim Dae-jung’s fundamental tendencies remained unchanged, so he voiced no objection to the merger.

Acting President Lee In-je at the Blue House likewise had not the slightest desire to earn Yoo Jae-won’s displeasure. Besides, while ordinary corporations typically followed mergers with workforce rationalization, ID Group operated differently. No company was more conservative about indiscriminate personnel restructuring than ID Group.

Regular and production-line employees were allowed to decide for themselves. From assistant managers to section chiefs, dismissal was rare unless the individual had caused a public scandal or committed a crime. Executive level and above, however, was another matter entirely. Yoo Jae-won believed they must bear responsibility for management outcomes. He therefore mobilized the group audit office to conduct thorough analyses of their capabilities and conduct.

Consequently, every major merger—whether Daeho Electronics or Ilseong Electronics—brought a storm of bloodletting and a string of scandals. In the final stage, executives and presidents were inevitably found to have engaged in slush funds, embezzlement, or breach of fiduciary duty, and the matters concluded with criminal complaints.

This merger into ID Electronics proved no exception. Yet the cold wind that swept through the contract executives differed somewhat from previous occasions. ID Group’s M&A procedures had become notorious among executives, so many chose to leave the company before they could be sued. In addition, those talented individuals whom Yoo Jae-won wished to retain were mostly Jeon Jae-gu’s people; they preferred transferring to the Mirae Group rather than remaining.

Yoo Jae-won made no effort to stop those who chose to depart. The group’s talent pool had already been sufficiently established.

“I will appoint Hwang Chang-gyu as president of ID Electronics.”

“Hwang Chang-gyu? Ah! You mean the former head of Ilseong Electronics’ semiconductor division?”

“Correct. That is the man.”

Yoo Jae-won was conducting an ID Talk video conference with Vice Chairman Choi Kang-wook on the subject of normalizing ID Electronics. When Choi Kang-wook asked who would serve as president, Yoo Jae-won answered with the name Hwang Chang-gyu without the slightest hesitation. Choi Kang-wook nodded with an expression that said he had expected nothing less.

The man named Hwang Chang-gyu was the very person who had elevated Ilseong Electronics’ semiconductor division to world-class standards. He had led the successful development of the world’s first 64-megabit DRAM and possessed exceptional talent in memory semiconductor development. Even after Ilseong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Electronics had been sold to ID Group for a mere hundred won, his abilities were recognized, allowing him to survive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the massacre of the executive ranks.

Moreover, Hwang Chang-gyu had enjoyed the special favor of Chairman Choi Hyun-hee. When Ilseong Electronics restructured around its automobile business, he could have transferred to the Strategy Planning Office—the true seat of power within the Ilseong Group—had he wished. Yet he chose not to. The semiconductor division was something he had nurtured almost as if it were his own child. Besides, as a semiconductor specialist, he would have found little opportunity to exercise genuine expertise in the Strategy Planning Office.

In the end, Hwang Chang-gyu remained. Until yesterday he had been responsible for rebuilding the Ilseong Electronics semiconductor plant. The factory, which had been in murderous disarray, was being completely torn down and rebuilt. At the same time, the entire manufacturing process was being overhauled for high-density memory semiconductor production. ID Technology and global equipment leaders such as ASML had provided technical support, and the work was progressing without major setbacks.

Hwang Chang-gyu had anticipated that he would be discarded like a spent hunting dog once the project concluded. Yoo Jae-won, however, believed there was simply no better candidate for the presidency of ID Electronics.

“If it is Hwang Chang-gyu, his capabilities are more than sufficient.”

Because the acquisition had occurred without restructuring, the home-appliance division of ID Electronics was also quite large. Nevertheless, the core business remained memory semiconductors. Of course, Yoo Jae-won had no intention of neglecting the white goods sector either.

ID Group’s affiliates already produced numerous home appliances. There were the various mobile devices released by ID Technology, as well as the New Egg and iWorks series offered by the Android division. In addition, although they never reached the general retail market, cloud-computing servers built by linking thousands or even tens of thousands of blade servers constituted another flagship product. Until now they had outsourced manufacturing to companies such as TG Computer, but once ID Electronics began in-house production, the home-appliance division would have no idle time.

“Please convey this message to President Hwang Chang-gyu without fail.”

“Yes. What should I tell him?”

“Tell him to double the integration density of memory semiconductors every single year.”

“Pardon? Double it every year?”

The largest memory chip currently on the market held 512 megabits. Executing Yoo Jae-won’s order would therefore require the commercialization of one-gigabit memory chips by next year. Moreover, the capacity would have to double annually. At first hearing, the directive sounded impossible.

Yet Hwang Chang-gyu would accomplish it. Memory semiconductor capacity doubled every year, and the phenomenon came to be known as Hwang’s Law—a term derived from Moore’s Law, which observed that computer performance doubled every eighteen months while prices remained constant.

“Understood.”

Although Choi Kang-wook thought the instruction sounded excessive, he raised no objection. If the foremost IT expert in the world said it, he would not be speaking idly.

“Ah, and I have reached a decision regarding our East Asia operations.”

“Yes, Chairman.”

Choi Kang-wook had believed the meeting was essentially over with the appointment of Hwang Chang-gyu, but he refocused on the screen as Yoo Jae-won continued. The specific mention of “East Asia operations” even produced a faint tension, as though wondering whether some incident had occurred without his knowledge.

“Before that, allow me one nonsense quiz.”

“A… nonsense quiz?”

Choi Kang-wook felt the wind leave his sails at the abrupt change of subject. Yoo Jae-won paid no heed and posed the question anyway.

“What is the best ‘cha’ for relieving an office worker’s stress?”

“‘Cha’… you mean? Well, if we are speaking of preference, coffee would be the top choice. In Korea alone we spend hundreds of millions of won each month just on instant coffee mix for employees. But since you specifically called it a nonsense question… perhaps the answer is a Benz. A single drive in a Benz would surely melt the stress away.”

It was a perfectly Choi Kang-wook sort of answer.

“Wrong! The correct answer is half-day leave, monthly leave, and yearly leave.”

At the follow-up explanation, Choi Kang-wook’s face filled with understanding. What hardworking employees loved most, above all else, was vacation.

“According to the ERP data, working hours in Korea far exceed those of our other regional operations.”

ID Group’s fundamental policy was an eight-hour workday. Korea was no exception. Yet analysis of employee time logs in the ERP showed Korea standing out dramatically. Given the overwork-death concerns that had arisen from Jeon Myeong-heon’s incident, the warning signs were impossible to ignore.

He immediately investigated the cause. The answer emerged with surprising ease: it stemmed from a fundamental difference in work culture. In the United States and Europe, the five-day workweek had taken root as early as the 1930s. Henry Ford—the man who ushered in the modern era through division of labor, conveyor belts, and the Model T—had also, ironically, been the one to establish the five-day week despite his reputation for union suppression.

Korea, by contrast, still worked on Saturdays. There was a nominal “half-holiday” custom that limited work to mornings, but it was routinely ignored when workloads grew heavy. As a result, only Korea’s working hours stood out so sharply. Nor could the country claim higher productivity than the United States or Europe; whether in software development or appliance manufacturing, the U.S. remained superior.

“We will implement the five-day workweek no later than the year 2000. Please prepare accordingly.”

“Does that mean Saturdays will simply be days off?”

“I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no longer wish to hear reports of my own people dying from overwork.”

“I understand the Chairman’s heart, however…”

Choi Kang-wook’s reaction was negative. Reducing six workdays to five represented a simple sixteen-percent drop in efficiency. Additional personnel would be required to compensate, and that meant money. Labor costs already formed the largest share of ID Group’s expenses; any further increase was bound to meet resistance.

“Furthermore, when employees wish to use half-day, monthly, or yearly leave, why require formal plans? Eliminate those bureaucratic steps entirely. Allow them to take the time simply by informing their team leader.”

Yoo Jae-won’s resolve was now as solid as bedrock.

“Understood.”

Recognizing that the Chairman’s will was immovable, Choi Kang-wook nodded and transcribed the instructions into his notebook.

“Finally, I believe I will build a house.”

“A house?”

Yoo Jae-won gave a firm nod at Choi Kang-wook’s question. He already maintained residences in Seoul, in Deokjin-ri, and here in San Francisco where the video meeting was taking place. Yet the house he now spoke of was none of those.

To be precise, it was a newlywed home.

It had already been well over five years since he began dating Tiffany. They had held their engagement ceremony, and there was no trouble on the affection front. Tiffany fully understood the colossal scale of Yoo Jae-won’s business activities that spanned the Pacific. Likewise, Yoo Jae-won raised no complaint when her work at Chevron sent her on weeks-long business trips. Distance did not breed anxiety between them.

Only his traditionally minded parents had voiced mild concern. Thus Yoo Jae-won had assumed their relationship would naturally progress to marriage when the time felt right. The incident with Jeon Myeong-heon had changed that naïve outlook. The late chairman’s final words had been to seize everything that could be seized. Thanks to that advice, Yoo Jae-won had claimed the Piggy Bank Safe and Kim Kwang-il, yet there remained one greater prize.

The person who possessed the largest, most imposing presence among all that could be grasped was Tiffany.

“Congratulations!”

Upon learning that Yoo Jae-won intended to propose, Choi Kang-wook offered immediate felicitations. The greatest vulnerability of ID Group was not natural disaster or economic crisis, but Yoo Jae-won himself. The entire conglomerate revolved around him from beginning to end—an arrangement that could fairly be called a medieval absolute monarchy. His absence would inevitably invite upheaval.

Although he could not say it aloud, Choi Kang-wook believed stabilizing the management structure was crucial. Marriage to Tiffany represented the best imaginable means to that end.

Whether aware of his subordinate’s inner thoughts or not, Yoo Jae-won opened the file manager and transmitted a sketch-like image file.

“I want to build a house like this on the western coastline of San Francisco.”

Choi Kang-wook immediately opened the image viewer. A moment later his impression arrived.

“It looks like a disk-shaped spaceship has half-landed on a cliff. The scale is quite substantial—an elevator descending the cliff face, a harbor facility connected directly to it, and even a yacht. Rather luxurious.”

Unfortunately, Choi Kang-wook failed to recognize what the sketch was homage to. Marvel comics remained a niche interest at this time, so it was only natural. The very concept of a cinematic universe did not yet exist. Since he was building a newlywed home anyway, Yoo Jae-won had decided to satisfy his inner fan as well.

“I will forward the sketch to Daeho Construction for estimates and design proposals.”

Owning so many companies could be burdensome, yet it was undeniably convenient that anything needed could be procured internally.

“Please do. Spare no expense. I want it built with meticulous care.”

Yoo Jae-won added the sort of casual remark anyone might wish to say but few could actually afford.

Time flowed on. March arrived, and in the fifteenth presidential election, candidate Kim Dae-jung was elected president. Because the election had been triggered by a vacancy, there was no transition committee; he ascended immediately upon victory and began his term.

Kim Dae-jung’s election signified a clear regime change from conservative to democratic forces. Although former President Kim Young-sam had democratic roots, the three-party merger had diluted their luster, and Jeon Myeong-heon had been a shade of gray. By contrast, President Kim Dae-jung represented authentic democratic lineage—the most distinct power shift in the constitutional history of the Republic of Korea.

Naturally, friction arose at once with the conservative-dominated bureaucracy, producing controversy from the very first cabinet formation. While Korea buzzed with the drama of regime change, across the Pacific Yoo Jae-won was, for the first time in a while, attending an official event together with Tiffany.

They were present at the Hollywood preview of The Matrix, the most anticipated film of early 1999.