A Lavish Welcome in Moscow
The ID Group's private jet made a grand entrance at Moscow Airport in Russia. The Russian government's escort for Yoo Jae-won had begun the moment they entered Russian airspace. A full squadron of Su fighter jets had even been dispatched to accompany them. It was an extraordinary level of hospitality. Because there had been no prior notice, the jet's captain was startled when the fighters appeared in visual range and had no idea how to respond. Tension eased, however, when a radio message arrived in halting English welcoming them to Russia. It was a complete reversal from 1988, when Russian jets had shot down an aircraft that had merely strayed into their airspace without so much as a warning. From the moment they entered Russian airspace until they landed at Moscow Airport, the Russian government did everything in its power to impress. They assigned the best runway for landing, and a red carpet was rolled out upon arrival. It was truly the treatment of a state guest. Immigration formalities were dispensed with in an instant, little more than a formality. Even the head of security, who had braced for a confrontation over the armed guards, found the process surprisingly smooth.
Russia's meticulous attention to Yoo Jae-won reflected both his elevated status and the country's own precarious situation. Two years after the IMF crisis, South Korea's economy was clearly recovering. If the momentum of the first and second quarters held through the end of the month, some were already predicting that the final growth rate for 1999 could exceed ten percent. Russia, however, remained mired at the bottom even after declaring a moratorium. A prolonged recession gripped every sector of industry. While advanced nations—and even countries like South Korea—were riding the IT revolution, Russia was struggling just to keep pace. The weakness stemmed from the structure of the Russian economy itself. Natural resource exports such as oil, gas, and coal accounted for more than half of its revenue. Productivity was low, and the abrupt shift from a socialist planned economy to capitalism had thrown the population into confusion. Conditions had improved slightly since the moratorium, thanks to rising oil prices. Ironically, capital that could find no outlet after the collapse of the IT bubble had flowed into the commodities market. As a result, the average price of oil had risen roughly five dollars per barrel compared to the previous year, providing Russia with much-needed relief.
Into this environment stepped Yoo Jae-won, the world's richest man, visiting Russia with the clear intention of investing in its weakest sector: IT. The lavish reception was inevitable. Yet the man receiving all this attention found it rather tedious. Yoo Jae-won had never been one to fuss over protocol. When the jet reached the end of the runway and Russian officials asked him to wait while they prepared a welcoming ceremony, he grew impatient. The moment he was told everything was ready, he stepped out first, eager to breathe fresh air.
Russia was unmistakably Russia. The red carpet was not simple felt but a richly patterned fabric, and the military band was impressively large. The real surprise, however, came next.
“Prime Minister Putin?”
The pinnacle of the extravagant welcome was Putin's personal appearance.
“I sincerely welcome Chairman Yoo Jae-won's visit to Russia.”
Putin, whom he had not seen in years, greeted him with a broad smile. Yoo Jae-won rode with Putin toward the Kremlin, the symbol of the Russian presidency. After the 2000s it would often be called the Kremlin Palace, but for now it was simply the Kremlin. There, of course, an audience with the sitting president, Boris Yeltsin, awaited. It had been a long time since a figure of Yoo Jae-won's stature had visited Russia, and the leadership was determined to secure investment by any means. An luncheon with President Yeltsin was therefore a matter of course.
The car taking them to the Kremlin was a ceremonial vehicle prepared by the Russian side. Although Yoo Jae-won's own car was aboard his private jet, he could not use it out of respect for Putin's courtesy. Refusing Putin's car would have signaled distrust, sending the wrong message. Besides, Yoo Jae-won was not a target of international terrorist groups the way the American president was. Rival IT companies and certain investment firms that had been left empty-handed by the White Tiger Fund might harbor grudges, but none were likely to act on them. The security team's elaborate precautions were not due to any specific terrorist threat but simply because Russia itself remained unstable.
The motorcade was ostentatious. Motorcycles flanked the vehicle carrying Yoo Jae-won and Putin for security, and additional bikes cleared the road ahead. Thanks to the escort, they sped nonstop from the airport to the Kremlin without a single stop.
“Congratulations on becoming prime minister.”
“Haha, I owe it to you, Chairman Yoo.”
“Come now, I didn't do anything. It was the result of your own outstanding abilities, and the recognition of President Yeltsin and the Russian people.”
Despite the noisy journey, the atmosphere inside the car was warm. Yoo Jae-won's support for Putin had never once wavered. That was why Putin could so naturally credit him. Moreover, they conversed without an interpreter. Putin was not speaking Korean; Yoo Jae-won had learned enough Russian to communicate directly. When fluent Russian—though not perfectly accented—flowed from Yoo Jae-won's mouth, Putin's expression brightened further.
As the conversation continued, however, Putin's face gradually grew more composed. It was not because anything unpleasant had occurred, but because he no longer needed to hide his true feelings in front of Yoo Jae-won. Putin's current position was far from comfortable. He had caught Yeltsin's eye and been appointed prime minister at the beginning of the year, securing parliamentary approval with little opposition. In an instant he had become Russia's second-in-command, yet the country's condition was worse than he had imagined. The office of prime minister was also an awkward one in Russia. He wanted to overhaul everything, but a prime minister's actual authority was limited. All real power was concentrated in the president. Meanwhile, it fell to Putin to clean up the messes the president had made.
“Very well, let's leave it at that.”
Putin was indeed a cool-headed man.
“In any case, I am deeply indebted to you, Chairman Yoo. Instead of repaying that debt, I find myself burdening you once again.”
He was referring to the upcoming Russian IT Expo investment. The idea had originally come from Yeltsin, who wanted to show the world that Russia was not falling behind in the global IT revolution. In the original timeline, no such event had existed. Yeltsin had clearly been spurred into action after seeing Yoo Jae-won and the ID Group surging ahead. While Yeltsin had started the project, it was Putin who now had to deliver results.
Putin, now in charge of the expo, had reached out to numerous Western investors. Having launched the event, he could not allow it to end in failure. The goal was, of course, to attract foreign capital to Russian IT companies. The response had been coldly indifferent. Russia's foundational technology had once rivaled America's, but in applied fields like IT the country was struggling. There were some achievements in certain security sectors, but the rest remained barren ground. In short, Russia was not an attractive investment destination. Some investors had shown interest in Russia's natural resources, but those were not for sale. Although Russia had declared a moratorium, the country had not collapsed precisely because of its natural resources. Even after restructuring them around the private company Gazprom for efficiency, the largest shareholder remained the Russian government.
Putin was the one expected to produce results under these circumstances. In the end, he had no choice but to play the hidden card he had been saving: Yoo Jae-won.
“Don't worry. I never make deals that lose money.”
Yoo Jae-won nodded as he answered. Putin's eyes twitched. After being rebuffed by so many Western investors, the words sounded to him like a demand for guaranteed profit.
“I have long held a high opinion of Russia's potential. Many will criticize this investment, but in a few years they will be kicking themselves in regret.”
Putin realized he had misunderstood. He quickly tried to compose his expression, but the perceptive Yoo Jae-won had already noticed the momentary falter.
Yoo Jae-won was genuinely positive about investing in Russia. He was certain no IT revolution comparable to the ID Group's would suddenly erupt there. What he saw instead was the coming oil-price surge. At the current price—late teens per barrel, occasionally nudging just over twenty dollars—oil would never return to these levels. Prices would keep rising without pause, exceeding one hundred dollars within a few years. The oil boom had also enabled Putin's long-term rule. It had generated enormous fiscal revenue for Russia, allowing Putin to build a stronger nation than Gorbachev or Yeltsin had ever achieved.
Putin's timing in summoning Yoo Jae-won was perfect. If he made these early investments now, he could reap returns of tens or hundreds of times over once Russia revived on the strength of Siberian resources. It was not merely a matter of material gain. Through Levin Willis, head of the global information team, Yoo Jae-won had already learned that Putin was in a difficult position because of the IT Expo. A friend who helps in times of trouble is a true friend. If today's meeting won him Putin's trust, that alone would be enough.
A few days later:
- ID Group Chairman Yoo Jae-won announces large-scale investment in Russia
- Acquires stakes in Russia's leading portal Yandex and electronic financial software developer MetaTrader; decides to build a large-scale integrated shopping center in Moscow and participate in Siberian resource exploration and development—a total package investment
- Total scale: 1 billion dollars
Yoo Jae-won's purse opened, and Russia erupted in smiles. Not only Putin but even Yeltsin, who had started the project and then stepped back, was astonished by the scale. On Wall Street and in London, the financial centers of the world, the reaction was predictable: “reckless investment.” Yoo Jae-won was confident he would not need much time to prove them wrong.
“Just wait ten years! No, wait—there was technological acceleration, wasn't there?”
The IT technological progress he himself had triggered had advanced at least five years ahead of schedule thanks to the T-Touch Phone. The effects of that acceleration would spread worldwide, and Russia would be no exception. Therefore, the probability that Russia's revival would arrive even sooner than planned was very high.
“Five years will be more than enough!”
Yoo Jae-won set the timeline at five years. Furthermore, the Siberian resource exploration had been an extra gift from President Yeltsin, who had been delighted by the investment. Yoo Jae-won received exploration rights and development rights for resources in eastern Siberia. Yeltsin and the Russian leadership viewed it as little more than a lottery ticket with slim odds of winning. Although Siberia was a treasure trove of resources, they were not evenly distributed. Exploration costs were astronomical, and many expeditions had spent vast sums only to come up empty. The land granted to Yoo Jae-won had already been abandoned by several exploration companies.
Yet Yoo Jae-won was different. Inside his mind was a global resource map as detailed as a military chart. The Siberian region he had received was no exception. Beneath that land lay vast quantities of high-quality crude oil. There were countless ways to utilize it. Partnering with T&U Research, founded by Tiffany, would generate enormous synergy. As a bonus, it would also cause considerable heartburn for Jacob and the Chevron executives who had failed to recruit her because of their narrow-minded thinking.
Having completed his schedule in high spirits, Yoo Jae-won departed Russia amid warm farewells from both Putin and Yeltsin. All that remained was IDDC 99—an event that demanded his full effort as they prepared for the twenty-first century.