Reckless Challenge, Overwhelming Retribution
That evening. “Mother, it looks like I’ll need American citizenship after all.”
Ever decisive, Yoo Jae-won called home. Along with the news that he had arrived safely in the United States came the bombshell declaration that he might become an American.
—Is that so? Whatever my son decides to do, your mother will support you one hundred percent.
Surprisingly, Kim Mal-sook, Yoo Jae-won’s mother, responded in an utterly calm tone despite the shocking news of relinquishing Korean citizenship.
“Really?”
Yoo Jae-won was so taken aback that he found himself asking again.
—Of course! If it’s a decision my son has thought through carefully, then your mother will stand behind it without question.
After all, ever since she had somehow managed to bring a 286 computer into the house in the late eighties, Yoo Jae-won had grown remarkably mature. From that point on, he began pulling off unimaginable feats almost daily, eventually building enormous companies in both Korea and the United States. As his mother, Kim Mal-sook felt these changes more deeply than anyone. She also knew full well that it was all still ongoing.
More than anything, Kim Mal-sook was monitoring Yoo Jae-won’s every move. All matters concerning him were meticulously clipped and delivered to her every day by the secretariat at ID Investment, where she worked. Thanks to that, she had even learned that the acquisition of the broadcaster NBC, which Yoo Jae-won had been pursuing, had hit a snag. Some newspaper analyses had pointed to his nationality as the cause.
Of course, even if she had received Yoo Jae-won’s call without having read those articles beforehand, she would still have supported him wholeheartedly.
—Your father said he supports you one hundred percent as well.
Yoo Bong-man, his father, was no different.
“Thank you. But once this news gets out, it’s bound to cause quite a stir. For the time being, please avoid meeting reporters or anyone from broadcasting stations, and minimize going out.”
—No problem. Reporters making a fuss isn’t anything new. I’ve been meaning to say this, but every time our son does something, it’s always been chaos.
Yoo Jae-won’s parents had not simply enjoyed the fruits of their son’s success. Every time he pulled off a major deal or caused a huge incident in Korea or the United States, the domestic media went into a frenzy. It had been the same recently, during the Daehan Ilbo bankruptcy.
The family of the Daehan Ilbo owner, who had been called the emperor of the mass media or the president of the night, had been utterly destroyed after crossing Yoo Jae-won. No one had expected the newspaper to shut down entirely, let alone that the owner’s grand mansion in Seoul would be razed by bulldozers. For those in the newspaper industry, it was more shocking than a change of government or the end of a war. Naturally, the media frenzy had been intense, and the aftermath had reached his parents as well. Yet they had said nothing, not wanting to worry their son.
Well, this time the scale was a bit larger, but it wasn’t the first time. They figured their son’s relinquishment of Korean citizenship would be much the same. Moreover, if he was going to accomplish great things in America, the world’s most powerful nation, they accepted that resolving the nationality issue was inevitable.
After finishing the call with his parents, Yoo Jae-won contacted other close acquaintances through his mind-link and found that everyone understood his position.
“Is this the last one?”
The final person Yoo Jae-won called was Kim Kwang-il, the Communications Director of ID Group.
—This matter will cause quite a significant uproar.
The moment he heard the story, that was the first thing Kim Kwang-il said.
—Still, I will do my utmost to ensure that the chairman’s noble will and sacrifice are not distorted.
It was merely for his own ambition, yet Kim Kwang-il, ever the traditionalist, interpreted it as willingly giving up his nationality for the company’s growth and national interest. There was no need to correct Kim Kwang-il’s way of thinking, and since Yoo Jae-won respected his perspective, he offered no further explanation.
“I’m counting on you.”
—Of course, Mr. Chairman! I’ll get to work right away.
That single phrase was enough. And just as Kim Kwang-il had promised, chaos erupted in Korea.
“$500 Billion Colossus Can No Longer Fly the Taegeukgi!”
It was the front-page headline of the Dongha Ilbo morning edition, which had risen to become Korea’s top newspaper after the disappearance of Daehan Ilbo. Normally an advertisement would occupy the bottom of the front page, but that day was an exception. The entire front page was devoted to a special feature—naturally, about Yoo Jae-won.
The “$500 billion colossus” referred to ID Group. With only two listed subsidiaries at present—Android Corporation and Time Warner Nextcom—the total market capitalization of the entire ID Group was unknown even to Yoo Jae-won. However, Wall Street had estimated the value of the unlisted subsidiaries and pegged ID Group’s scale at $500 billion. At current stock prices, Android was valued at $120 billion and Time Warner Nextcom at $150 billion, with the remaining unlisted subsidiaries estimated at $270 billion. It was an enormous sum. Just five years earlier, the short-term foreign debt that had triggered the IMF crisis had been around $10 billion.
Moreover, this figure was not an overvaluation. Many on Wall Street believed that ID Technology alone, which held a 60% share of the global smartphone market along with various electronic devices, killer software like ID Office, and high-value patents, would easily exceed $100 billion in market cap upon listing. ID Investment’s assets under management alone reached tens of billions of dollars. While more than half belonged to clients, it also held substantial liquid assets such as gold and oil futures and Shin-Nihon Investment Bank. Its subsidiaries in electronics, displays, and high-tech research institutes were world leaders in their fields and carried considerable value. Naturally, ID Group was the largest corporate group in Korea, and even globally, few companies surpassed it in value. Only Aramco, which monopolized Saudi Arabia’s oil resources, or ExxonMobil could even be compared.
In every sense, ID Group was a dragon that had emerged from the Korean stream, and all Koreans took pride in it. Unlike other chaebols that had grown through shady dealings and political collusion, there was a consensus that ID Group had risen solely through capability. Even after becoming a major corporation, ID Group had never stopped innovating and had generously shared its gains with employees. Even those not employed by ID Group benefited from the ID Foundation, a world-class philanthropic organization. University students received scholarships, and vulnerable populations received donated goods each season. Naturally, the Dongha Ilbo’s front-page headline delivered a tremendous shock to Koreans beginning their day with the newspaper. Anyone who read the front page carefully naturally wondered “why.”
The Dongha Ilbo had anticipated this reaction when preparing the article, and the reason was explained in great detail on page two.
“Federal Communications Commission Defers Approval of Time Warner Nextcom’s NBC Acquisition Request.”
“Some FCC Commissioners Raise Yoo Jae-won’s Nationality as an Issue.”
“Chairman Yoo Jae-won Continues to Push Forward with NBC Acquisition!”
Those who could finally piece the puzzle together felt a tightness in their chests. This was not just any broadcaster—it was NBC, an American broadcast network. It was business on an entirely different level, yet nationality was the problem. Since it was already known that Yoo Jae-won’s mind was made up, there was no stopping him. Even if someone wanted to block it by force, they would need to offer something greater than NBC in return, but Korea, which had only just escaped the IMF crisis, had nothing of the sort to give. Thus, those who read the Dongha Ilbo felt their chests grow heavy.
Thanks to that, only a very small number of people noticed the unusual full-page advertisement when they opened the center spread of the newspaper. It was an advertisement for ID Electronics’ new television. A full-page photograph of the high-end Bordeaux FHD TV 42-inch model dominated the entire newspaper sheet. The 2002 World Cup was set to begin at the end of June, and the product had been developed in preparation for that event, so promotion was already in full swing. The top model was 42 inches, the mid-range 37 inches, and the entry-level 32 inches, with each tier differing by five inches. Prices were 4.9 million won for the 42-inch flagship, the mid-range in the 2 million won range, and the entry-level in the 800,000 won range—significantly more expensive than the previous year’s 720p models. However, since the 42-inch LCD TV was produced exclusively by ID Electronics worldwide, the flagship was positioned as premium, and even the lower lineups were marketed as high-end, distinct from conventional televisions.
ID Group’s advertisements were not limited to the Bordeaux TV. The back page was also a full-page ad, this time for a French-door refrigerator. The product name was the Classe Refrigerator HomeHub Chief Edition. Its 990-liter capacity was impressive, and the metal casing and luxurious hairline finish—uncommon in household white appliances—added to its appeal. The “HomeHub” designation came from an optional display device that combined a touch-screen sensor with a 30-inch LCD panel that had become obsolete with the release of the Bordeaux TV. Unlike in the past, when family members were often too busy to communicate, the refrigerator was a place everyone visited at least once, making the LCD screen an ideal family bulletin board for leaving messages or sharing information. It also allowed remote access via Android Phone over wireless internet and could display recipes or play videos. While it could become mere decoration, when used well it was highly useful and clearly differentiated from existing refrigerator models. It looked expensive at a glance, and the price listed at the bottom of the ad confirmed it. Still, for those with financial means who needed a new refrigerator, it was an irresistibly attractive model.
Seeing ID Group’s new TV and refrigerator advertisements placed in a newspaper filled with special coverage of ID Group, a small number of people sensed that there had been deliberate maneuvering and naturally felt some resistance. Yet even they could not help but confront the practical reality of Yoo Jae-won’s nationality issue, given that ID Group had become Korea’s national corporation.
“The Tongil National Party Must Convene an Emergency National Assembly to Begin Discussing the Nationality Law.”
“Lee In-je, Representative of the Tongil National Party, Announces He Is Drafting a Dual Nationality Law Amendment That Can Garner National Consensus.”
Starting with the Dongha Ilbo, ID Group and Yoo Jae-won’s nationality issue had become Korea’s biggest topic. The biggest political event had been the local elections one month away, but now no one could even think about them. The Tongil National Party in particular moved swiftly. However, it was not proposing a special law granting dual nationality privileges solely for Yoo Jae-won. Instead, it advocated amending the nationality law to allow dual citizenship for those who had faithfully paid taxes and completed military service. This was, of course, Yoo Jae-won’s will being conveyed through Director Kim Kwang-il. Unlike other companies, Yoo Jae-won had never considered tax evasion and was paying tens of trillions of won in taxes to the Korean government every year. His personal income tax was also substantial. Moreover, he was not acquiring American citizenship to avoid military service, so he believed the request was entirely reasonable. Above all, he left the choice to the people. If dual nationality was permitted, he would keep his Korean citizenship; if not, then so be it.
“I suppose this is enough for what I’ve done for Korea.”
Having arrived at the headquarters chairman’s office, Yoo Jae-won was browsing Nextcom’s news pages, comments, and various community sites of differing political leanings to gauge shifts in Korean public opinion. The reaction was not bad. Over 90% were favorable toward him. The majority believed it would be better to allow dual nationality than to force him to become American. Furthermore, the argument that even if Yoo Jae-won retained Korean citizenship, his children would eventually acquire American citizenship anyway, so the country should pave the way for him to accomplish even greater things in America, received strong support. It was a gratifying response that validated the relentless effort he had poured in since his regression.
Beep.
The Android Phone on the corner of his desk vibrated, pulling Yoo Jae-won’s attention away from the monitor. It was a call from Tiffany.
—Jae-won! I just heard from immigration. They said to wait just one week.
“Wow, that really is fast! Thank you.”
Tiffany’s excited voice conveyed the news that Yoo Jae-won’s citizenship would be granted very soon. Just as she had predicted, it was an unusually swift approval.
“The preparations for the counterattack are complete.”
Having laid a solid foundation in both Korea and the United States, Yoo Jae-won sensed that the time had come to turn the tables. Picking up the phone again, he scrolled through his contacts for a long while before selecting a name and pressing the call button.
—Oh! I was just about to call you. We must have telepathy between us! I heard you applied for citizenship too. In the end it’s your decision, but I feel bad because I think I was the catalyst.
Ted Turner poured out words the moment he answered Yoo Jae-won’s call, as if Yoo Jae-won were the only person with whom he could have a deep conversation.
“Mr. Turner, isn’t it time for us to launch our counterattack? Especially against Mr. Murdoch.”
Yoo Jae-won cut straight to the point, interrupting Ted Turner.
—Murdoch? Of course!
As expected, Ted Turner reacted instantly to the name Murdoch. Just as Yoo Jae-won had said, the first target of retribution was Rupert Murdoch of News Corp. By striking Rupert Murdoch—the vanguard of the anti-ID Group front and the core figure manufacturing negative public opinion—they would normalize the discourse. After that, they would finalize the NBC acquisition and move on to the main course: China and North Korea. That was Yoo Jae-won’s final calculation.