The Emperor's Downfall
Time had passed, and now only one month remained until the World Cup kicked off. In Korea, the tournament was naturally the dominant topic of conversation. The national soccer team, led by Guus Hiddink, had just suffered a narrow 3-2 defeat to France in their final warm-up match. Though they had lost, the result was encouraging. After all, the French side—nicknamed Les Bleus—stood among the world's elite. They were the 1998 World Cup champions and continued to perform strongly in regional competitions. Once again, they ranked among the top favorites for the title.
Yet the Red Devils had managed to score twice against them, delivering a performance so tense and evenly matched that it kept hearts pounding throughout both halves. The Korean squad had spent the past year refining their teamwork, even adjusting the professional league schedule to accommodate training, while bolstering their physical conditioning. It was a grueling effort to avoid embarrassment on home soil, and the results were beginning to show. As a result, World Cup fever in Korea reached unprecedented heights. Even the passage of the revised Nationality Act—which would normally have sparked endless debate—slipped by with minimal controversy.
The bill had passed the National Assembly with 201 votes in favor, securing the support of two-thirds of all lawmakers. The Unified National Party had backed it as party policy, while the Democratic Party allowed a free vote among its members and the remaining opposition parties voted against it. The strong showing from Democratic lawmakers signaled that the coalition between the two parties was growing even tighter. Rumors already circulated that the two parties might merge ahead of the 2002 presidential election.
Because the revised Nationality Act originated from the Unified National Party, it now ensured that Korean citizenship would not be revoked for acquiring foreign nationality, provided the individual maintained a clean tax record and had not sought the change to evade military service.
In the United States, the economic war with China remained the leading story. Yet the conflict was gradually winding down, its spotlight briefly stolen by an even hotter issue.
Economic sections of Nextcom News, financial magazines, and television broadcasts were dominated by coverage of ID Technology's upcoming IPO. Although ID Group had restructured into a pure holding company—somewhat diluting its original significance—ID Technology remained the core development arm and the very foundation of the entire conglomerate. Unlike many other IT firms whose business models remained unclear, ID Technology possessed the world's most robust and transparent revenue structure. Its greatest strength lay in the unparalleled smartphone ecosystem no competitor could replicate.
Several companies had launched smartphones—Apple, BlackBerry, and Nokia among them—but none had built an ecosystem as dominant as ID Group's. The proof was evident in the killer apps that defined the platform: ID Talk was installed by default on every device, followed almost universally by Nextcom, Next Music, TokTok, and ID Office. Some observers even defined whether a device qualified as a true smartphone by the presence or absence of ID Talk.
Investors flocked to HSBC, the lead underwriter, desperate to secure even a single share. The surest way to obtain ID Technology stock was to meet Yoo Jae-won in person, yet few could gain access to him. Even Ted Turner, who had been leading the front lines of the media war against News Corp in Britain, paused his campaign and flew back to the United States to seek a meeting with Yoo Jae-won the moment the IPO news broke.
Yoo Jae-won did not refuse Ted Turner's request. A portion of the shares had been set aside specifically for founding members of ID Group, its executives and employees, and close associates. ID Technology had remained wholly owned by Yoo Jae-won until now. The IPO would release 40 percent of the total equity; of that, 10 percent was reserved for associates, leaving 30 percent for the public offering. Even after allocating a full quarter of the public shares to his inner circle, the demand from his extraordinarily wealthy contacts remained overwhelming.
One fact was certain: once the IPO concluded, Yoo Jae-won would officially become the world's richest man. He would also gain enormous cash reserves and the final piece needed to complete the acquisition of NBC.
While an IT boom was reigniting in America around ID Technology, another English-speaking nation found itself left out in the cold: Britain.
The Murdoch scandal, ignited by Ted Turner's revelations, was reaching its climax. British authorities were confident they could prove Murdoch had personally ordered the widespread phone hacking and wiretapping carried out by World News. The key breakthrough came from the confession of his eldest son, Lachlan.
Lachlan had responded to a summons from British prosecutors. At the time, many wondered why a U.S. citizen would voluntarily comply. Yet he traveled to Britain and testified that Murdoch himself had directed World News to conduct not only the girl's kidnapping coverage but systematic illegal hacking and wiretapping on a massive scale. He described how Murdoch had constantly pressured the newsroom to produce ever more sensational stories, fostering a culture in which breaking the law became acceptable.
It was a whistleblower's testimony, but it also amounted to a son turning against his father. Although evidence Ted Turner had obtained included Murdoch's directives, those instructions had been vague enough to allow plausible deniability. Lachlan's testimony closed that escape route.
Public curiosity soon turned to why Lachlan had chosen to corner his own father. The answer emerged days later.
Anna Maria had scrapped ongoing alimony negotiations and publicly demanded News Corp shares, a development first reported by CNN. Though she came from an aristocratic background and had largely stayed out of the public eye after marrying Murdoch, her contribution to building the media empire had been substantial. Her family had provided Murdoch with both capital and influence, and she herself had devoted herself to supporting his ambitions. Murdoch could not deny her significant role in News Corp's growth, and the shares she stood to receive would be substantial. Moreover, the grounds for divorce rested squarely on Murdoch's misconduct.
One additional, quietly reported detail clarified why Lachlan's actions were not as irrational as they first appeared: ID Investment had been aggressively acquiring News Corp shares. Combined with Lachlan's existing stake, the shares Anna Maria would receive in the divorce settlement, and those already secured by ID Investment, Lachlan would possess enough voting power to assume control. Murdoch had installed safeguards, but a criminal conviction stemming from the World News scandal would render them useless. News Corp's own articles of incorporation contained an ethics clause stipulating that any executive receiving a prison sentence would be removed from office.
Even with News Corp's tight grip on British media and its deep ties to the government, escaping conviction on such clear evidence was impossible. Public opinion had turned decisively against the company. Citizens already dissatisfied with its practices mobilized through TokTok and other social platforms, rapidly shaping a global narrative that pressured the British government and prosecutors. The speed at which the scandal spread via social media was extraordinary.
“You really should have been more careful with your methods,” Yoo Jae-won remarked with satisfaction while gazing at Murdoch's dazed expression in a photograph taken after his interrogation. Murdoch had believed the sensational-news directive was routine and that the matter would blow over as usual. He had never imagined the situation would escalate to this degree or that his own son would betray him.
Murdoch, the man who had built the News Corp empire with his own hands, immediately recognized that both Lachlan's betrayal and Anna Maria's change of heart had been orchestrated. The moment ID Investment's acquisition of News Corp shares was disclosed, his suspicions became certainty.
Adding to his humiliation, News Corp's stock price surged sharply the moment it became clear he might be ousted. The rise was even steeper than the jump that followed ID Investment's disclosure—driven instead by the growing likelihood of his conviction. Watching the market reward the prospect of his removal wounded Murdoch deeply. He realized how thoroughly he had been branded an embodiment of malice and how little value the market placed on his continued leadership. Initial fury gave way to the bitter understanding that any protest would change nothing. Like so many others who had challenged Yoo Jae-won and lost, Murdoch could only grit his teeth and wait for another chance.
While Murdoch nursed his resentment, Yoo Jae-won spoke into the phone.
“Have a safe trip.”
“Don't worry,” came the reply from the other end. “Thanks to you, I even won a Nobel Prize. This level of after-service is the least I can do.”
The speaker was Bill Clinton, the 42nd President of the United States. He was about to depart for North Korea as a special envoy. His mission included discerning Kim Jong-il's true intentions behind the Kwangmyongsong missile program he had personally announced, as well as assessing any shifts in North Korea's policy toward the United States following Chen Liangyu's visit to China.
In Washington, hardline voices had grown louder immediately after North Korea's announcement. Had America's East Asia strategy remained unchanged, light-water reactor and heavy-fuel-oil aid would have been cut off at once. Yet Yoo Jae-won's long-standing efforts to reshape that strategy, combined with Al Gore's election as president, had prevented an immediate crisis. Instead, a special envoy had been dispatched, and Bill Clinton—America's only politician personally acquainted with Kim Jong-il—had been chosen for the role. The appointment also suited Yoo Jae-won, who maintained a close relationship with Clinton and received a personal call just before departure.
Yoo Jae-won offered no request for leniency toward North Korea. If the program truly involved missile development, confronting it decisively now would prevent far greater costs in the future. He extended one chance to Pyongyang, but none to Beijing.
The decisive blow Yoo Jae-won and the United States had prepared to end the U.S.-China economic war had finally landed. The most painful vulnerability for China's leadership was its overseas financial assets. Although the announcement framed the accounts as belonging to Chinese hacking criminals, the more accurate description was that they were secret slush funds belonging to senior Chinese officials. The accounts also contained bribes paid by hacking groups such as the Skidrow Group to Communist Party cadres, so the U.S. statement was not entirely inaccurate.
The initial disclosure covered nearly five thousand accounts holding more than two hundred billion dollars in total. The sheer number of accounts was staggering, but the cumulative sum shocked even more people. The Prism system Yoo Jae-won had developed had played a crucial role in tracing the funds. The ball was now in China's court, and its leadership understood they faced a momentous decision.