The Plagiarism Precedent
"Come if you dare!"
HxT carried a grave sin. The charge was plagiarism. It was no longer mere suspicion; a court had issued a final ruling. That verdict had shattered their former agency, LSM Entertainment, and everything had been reborn as Dream Entertainment. Yet the aftermath had not remained confined to LSM and HxT alone. The shockwave had rippled through the entire music industry.
Plagiarism had never been LSM's private habit. Even now, several mid-tier singers were embroiled in ongoing plagiarism lawsuits. Artists who had simply lifted hit songs from Japan and the United States, changing only the lyrics, now found themselves facing lawsuits from the original creators and had no idea how to respond. In the past, when the original artists appeared, everything could be smoothed over with quiet settlements. Lawsuits had rarely been worth the trouble. Those days were gone. The trials involving HxT and RATM had become legal precedent, cited repeatedly in subsequent plagiarism cases. Original artists could now demand compensation in the hundreds of millions, even billions of won, depending on the scale of the infringement. The economics had shifted completely from the old days when victims had little choice but to accept small payouts and move on.
Because of this, several singers who were caught had been forced to retire from the industry or declare bankruptcy. Comebacks were indefinitely postponed, and prepared albums were canceled as a matter of course. When HxT, the group that had shaken the Korean music scene to its core, fired the first signal flare of their return via TokTok, the reaction was immediate and fierce. The overwhelming majority of responses were negative.
"I expected as much…"
To ensure a flawless comeback, an A&R team had been assembled to handle every aspect—album concept, style, management—and a detailed roadmap had been drawn up. Utilizing TokTok was part of that plan, and Yoo Jae-won had anticipated the backlash. Still, when he opened the platform, the sheer intensity of the malicious comments exceeded his expectations. Just as the internet had advanced rapidly, so too had its darker side.
"For now, I should ban macro replies."
Yoo Jae-won immediately connected to TokTok's Korean server and began adjusting the settings. Anyone furiously posting hate comments would no doubt wonder what right he had to access the administrative controls. Of course, he had every right. TokTok had been created as an in-house venture of ID Group, and he was its president. He held 51 percent of the shares; Gilbert's team held the remaining 49 percent. Having acquired that 51 percent stake for 11 million dollars, the company was now valued at 20 million. He had once offered the presidency to Gilbert, but Gilbert, knowing his own strengths, had declined. He preferred to focus on development rather than management, so he remained a developer while handing operational and service oversight to Yoo Jae-won.
Yoo Jae-won had already formed a task force at ID Technology by recruiting employees interested in TokTok's operations and new technology development. Still, when urgent action was required, he could intervene directly.
"Limiting replies to one every three minutes should do it."
Most of the malicious accounts and professional troublemakers attacking HxT’s official page were obviously relying on automated macros. Simply preventing the same account from posting consecutive replies would significantly reduce the problem. Although the attackers were numerous, Club HxT—the fandom that supported HxT with unwavering loyalty—was the largest fan community in Korea. The derogatory term “fangirl” had originally been coined because of HxT’s fan club. Even after the group transferred to Dream Entertainment, Club HxT’s organizational strength remained formidable. They had only intensified the conflict by responding to every attack in kind. Extending the interval between replies was merely a temporary measure, however. A more fundamental solution was still necessary.
"Should I apply a profanity filter to TokTok as well?"
The Korean-language database was already substantial; applying the filter would clean the platform instantly. Yet the real issue was that lengthening the interval alone would not resolve the underlying problem. Implementing filters was a sensitive matter and not something to decide immediately. Fortunately, there was still time to consider it carefully—HxT's comeback was scheduled for the end of the year.
Yoo Jae-won opened his scheduler and fell into thought.
"This isn't the only matter that needs complete resolution. The plagiarism issue must be fully settled as well."
Having reached a conclusion, he opened ID Talk and sent several messages. The first instructed Dream Entertainment to ignore external reactions and proceed with the planned schedule, including promotional activities on TokTok. The final message went to Remington, requesting the real contact information for the members of RATM.
"By the way, whoever built this server did an impressive job."
Before closing the browser, Yoo Jae-won refreshed the page. HxT's official account timeline updated rapidly. Thousands of users were already connected to the account, and logs showed peak concurrent access in the tens of thousands. Despite the load, the server remained stable. While the text-based nature helped, the sophisticated distributed-processing architecture played a major role. Naturally, this ahead-of-its-time server technology had come from Yoo Jae-won's own hands. Unembarrassed by the self-praise, he clicked the thumbs-up icon and closed all programs.
The next day.
"Here are the clippings, sir."
As usual, Kim Dae-seok arrived at Yoo Jae-won's residence and handed over a slim file. It contained articles from daily newspapers as well as weekly and monthly magazines—something Yoo Jae-won received two or three times a week. Although comfortable with the internet, many publications still did not offer online article services, so he continued to receive these compiled files. Kim Dae-seok did not prepare them himself; it was one of the routine tasks handled by the secretarial office.
"Anything worth reading?"
The scrapbook contained articles Yoo Jae-won might find interesting.
"Yes, sir. There's an interview with President Ken Kutaragi from a Japanese newspaper."
Following Kim Dae-seok's words, Yoo Jae-won opened the file and immediately spotted the article. Key passages had been highlighted with fluorescent marker, allowing him to grasp the main points at a glance.
— Sony: A company that never stops sprinting toward innovation!
— PlayStation 2 will feature an Emotion Engine capable of reproducing human emotions and a cutting-edge graphic synthesizer for advanced CG!
Ken Kutaragi's gift for bold statements remained as remarkable as ever. An Emotion Engine and a graphic synthesizer. He had even declared confidently that ID Group's challenge posed no real threat. The unfortunate part was that, to Yoo Jae-won—who was preparing something far greater—it was nothing more than empty bravado. Nothing had changed from before.
"Well then, let's head out."
Yoo Jae-won's daily routine was about to change. Starting today, he would commute regularly to ID Technology's headquarters to personally oversee the Xbox project.
Upon arriving at the company, he found more than sixty people waiting for him. Like the Oh Jung-geun team that had come from Korea, they were personnel selected from ID Group's global talent pool for their suitability to the console business. Yoo Jae-won had taken direct responsibility as the project's highest authority and formally appointed six team leaders. New departments had been established: Hardware Design, Operating System, Server, Design, First-Party, and Third-Party teams. Oh Jung-geun, who had received prior notice from Yoo Jae-won the day before, was officially appointed as Third-Party Team Leader for the Japan region. The person to manage companies in the United States and Europe was still being recruited.
"If you need more personnel, request them without hesitation."
The Xbox was a multi-billion-dollar venture. Yoo Jae-won knew better than anyone that sixty people alone could never carry it. The current team was merely the initial launch group. To bring the project to full scale, he was prepared to conduct large-scale hiring, just as ID Group did with its open recruitment in Korea.
After finalizing the team structure, Yoo Jae-won demonstrated the prototype he had previously shown Oh Jung-geun. He wanted everyone to experience firsthand what they were building and to internalize the ultimate goal. He had always believed that showing something once was far more effective than explaining it a hundred times, so he had brought the prototype from the multimedia room on his way to work that morning. Since every member of the Xbox team was a gaming enthusiast, the reaction was explosive.
Having forged a strong sense of shared purpose, Yoo Jae-won stepped back to the front of the room and posed a single question.
"What is the most important element in the Xbox project?"
Cost-effectiveness! Raw power! Fun games! Must include Doom!
Unlike in Korea, where answers would have waited for someone to be called upon, responses poured out all at once. Yoo Jae-won nodded in agreement with each one. After listening to several minutes of lively, overlapping discussion, he continued.
"I'm disappointed, though. Not a single person mentioned design."
Design!
Everything the team had mentioned was essential. Yoo Jae-won added design to the list. The twenty-first century was the age of design. Even identical products sold better when they looked better. Sometimes a product with slightly inferior functionality outsold everything else simply because its design was superior. The original Xbox had suffered from insufficient attention to design. Its black casing was tough enough to deflect bullets—people even joked that it never broke. The problem was its clunky appearance. Sony's PlayStation 2 had been so elegantly designed that the contrast was stark. In response to criticism, the next-generation Xbox had invested enormous effort in design. That effort had paid off; the console had undergone a dramatic transformation. Yet the excessive focus on design had introduced hardware flaws. Poor heat dissipation caused a fatal problem known as the Red Ring of Death. Yoo Jae-won was determined not to repeat the mistakes of the past. That was why he intended to place great emphasis on design this time.
"The controller is especially critical. Many still believe sight and sound are sufficient and tend to neglect touch, but the sense of touch contributes significantly to enjoyment."
The original Xbox's controller had received relatively positive reviews. Its durability was excellent, the ergonomic design was comfortable, and the vibration feedback was outstanding. As a result, even people who did not own an Xbox bought the controller to use with their PCs. While he rejected the bulky console design entirely, he wanted to preserve the strengths of the controller. That was why, when assembling the current Xbox team, he had recruited David Carender—former head of the hardware division at Android—to serve as Hardware Team Leader.
"Now then, shall we begin the full workshop?"
Having set the general direction, Yoo Jae-won moved into the intensive phase: one-on-one meetings with each individual team. If the earlier group meeting had been about building consensus, these sessions would assign concrete tasks to each team.
The first team to meet with him was, predictably, the hardware team.
"Your presentation was deeply impressive, Chairman. However, there is one concern I must raise."
David Carender, facing Yoo Jae-won, spoke cautiously.
"What is it?"
"The excessive specifications of the Xbox."
"They are quite high-end, yes."
"Exactly. And specifications directly affect cost. Yet you have already set the price ceiling at under three hundred dollars."
True to the man who had been the first to mention cost-effectiveness, David pointed out the project's greatest weakness. Supply contracts with AMD and NVIDIA were nearly ready for signing. Bulk orders of ten million units had already driven prices down significantly, but the total still exceeded four hundred dollars. Memory chips, a hard drive, and a LAN card also had to be included. David had calculated the component cost at nearly seven hundred dollars. While yields would improve and mass production would eventually lower prices, the first year would require absorbing enormous losses.
"I fully understand the strategy of forcing our competitors into a price war by accepting losses ourselves."
The reason ID Group employees followed Yoo Jae-won's decisions was not only his track record of success but also their belief in the underlying purpose. For every loss ID Group absorbed, Sony would have to bleed as well. The two groups overlapped in gaming, film, music, and electronics. A setback in the gaming division could escalate into a crisis for Sony's entire group, which would ultimately benefit ID Group. Most importantly, Sony could not avoid this competition. Refusing to engage in a price war would be tantamount to surrendering the next-generation console market to ID Group. It was a perfect trap.
"There is another issue. The Xbox's extreme versatility."
Versatility was a problem? As David elaborated, the concern became clear. No matter how much customization was done, the architecture remained so similar to a PC that many people would likely purchase an Xbox and modify it. Console manufacturers like Nintendo made money selling hardware, but the Xbox model relied on selling game DVDs. If buyers acquired the console at a loss and then used it as a PC instead of playing games, the business model would collapse.
"I've already considered ways to prevent that."
David had come prepared. From the moment he was selected for the Xbox team until his flight from Seattle to San Francisco, he had not wasted time. Without being asked, he had studied the project, identified its weaknesses, and prepared countermeasures. His proposed solution, however, did not entirely appeal to Yoo Jae-won. It involved non-standard interfaces and encryption chips. David's idea was to brick the device if anyone attempted to modify the BIOS, and to use proprietary interfaces to prevent parts from being repurposed for PCs.
"It's a good idea. I'll review it positively. The specification issue, however, is non-negotiable."
Since the proposal could not be dismissed, Yoo Jae-won agreed to consider it. In return, he gave David a difficult assignment: bring back an overwhelmingly sophisticated design.
The next team to meet with Yoo Jae-won was the First-Party team, led by Marcus Ruiz, a man in his mid-forties. Marcus's previous role had been head of game marketing at ID Entertainment. Because of the nature of his work, he maintained close relationships with the development studios under ID Entertainment, and his performance evaluations were consistently excellent. That was how Marcus, who had never met Yoo Jae-won before, had been appointed to lead the First-Party team.
Yoo Jae-won's intention was straightforward. He planned to port as many games as possible from ID Entertainment's development studios to the Xbox. This included not only Doom 3, already in development, but also Diablo 2 and World of Warcraft from Blizzard.
"However, Chairman, if we simply port already-released games to the Xbox, won't they lack freshness?"
After hearing the plan, Marcus asked carefully. As someone with long experience in the game industry, he had good instincts. Porting existing PC games to Xbox was a double-edged sword. While they would be far cheaper to play, they would not feel new. That was why killer titles were essential. Although Halo had already been secured as a powerful exclusive, Yoo Jae-won had prepared one more.
"That's why I have something else ready. Are you familiar with Dragon Ball?"
"The Japanese animation? Who doesn't know it? My children love it."
"We can acquire the game license for Dragon Ball. I intend to create a new title with it."
"Pardon?"
For a moment, Marcus could not comprehend what Yoo Jae-won had said. The Dragon Ball game license was like a mirage—something everyone wanted but could never obtain. Bandai had secured it long ago and refused to share it with anyone. Even when the resulting games were mediocre, publishers had no choice but to accept them. But the situation had changed. As part of the spoils from the Japan campaign, Shueisha had been transferred to the Japan Investment Bank, allowing the exclusive contract with Bandai to be terminated. Moreover, a new pathway had been created to utilize Shueisha's content across animation, games, and more.
Halo. Dragon Ball. And Doom 3.
These were the triple-A titles Yoo Jae-won had prepared to ensure the Xbox's success.
Marcus and the First-Party team stood with their mouths agape. They had all seen Ken Kutaragi's interview the previous day. They had been certain Sony could never be overtaken. Yet the Xbox project was already soaring far above them. The question now was whether Sony could even keep up. Marcus found himself thinking that offering prayers for Sony's future might be the more humane response.