Side Effects
Side Effects
“Hahaha!”
A hearty burst of laughter echoed through the Oval Office for the first time in ages. The source of that laughter was none other than President Al Gore. In the Oval Office, where an aura of immense authority always lingered, only the president himself could laugh so freely. The space wasn’t always so rigid—his predecessor, Clinton, had even sparked a sexual scandal within these very walls. After Al Gore took office, the atmosphere had grown more disciplined and composed, though a touch of humor remained. That changed after 9/11. The humor vanished, replaced by a tension so sharp it felt like walking on a knife’s edge. One decision from President Al Gore could determine the fate of thousands, even tens of thousands, and the economy had taken a brutal hit in the aftermath.
Fortunately, the situation following 9/11 had come under firm American control. All military operations in Afghanistan had been executed flawlessly, and the withdrawal was complete. Public sentiment had also turned sharply against the Taliban, leaving their regime teetering on the brink. From the Taliban’s perspective, the United States had struck without warning. To radical Islamist fundamentalists, the Taliban’s failure to protect Osama bin Laden—the supposed hero of the anti-American cause—felt like outright betrayal. Meanwhile, many Afghans were stunned by America’s overwhelming military power and formidable intelligence capabilities. The combination shattered the Taliban’s grip on power.
Normally, the U.S. would have reinforced its troops to install a pro-American regime under such favorable conditions. Al Gore, however, ordered a swift withdrawal without hesitation. Republicans argued that this was the perfect moment to expand American influence in the Middle East, but Al Gore stood firm. Instead, he shifted focus to China, the next target after Afghanistan.
The economic war had sent shockwaves through the U.S. stock market, once considered the world’s strongest. China, the self-proclaimed factory of the world, had deeply embedded its low-cost “Made in China” products across the American market. Countless U.S. companies had invested in China or imported Chinese goods. Raising tariffs under these circumstances was widely denounced by economists as economic suicide. Yet, surprisingly, Al Gore’s approval ratings held steady. The capture of Osama bin Laden, the destruction of al-Qaeda in Afghanistan—these victories had strengthened national unity forged by 9/11, buying him patience from those who might otherwise have protested the economic pain.
Still, that patience wouldn’t last forever. It was only a matter of time—until China surrendered far sooner than expected, triggering Al Gore’s explosive laughter.
“They’ve agreed to repay three hundred billion dollars immediately, with the remaining five hundred billion to be paid in installments over ten years.”
“Three hundred billion dollars…”
If the United States had been forced to repay three hundred billion dollars to another nation because of bonds it had recklessly issued in the past, it would have been extremely inconvenient. But America held a cheat code: the U.S. dollar, the world’s reserve currency, was accepted everywhere. The Federal Reserve could simply print more dollars to settle the debt. China, however, was different.
“We won’t have to worry about tax revenue for a while.”
Al Gore whistled softly. The Qing Dynasty bonds had included a substantial share belonging to the U.S. government. At Yoo Jae-won’s suggestion, the administration had been delegated authority over five hundred billion dollars in privately held bonds as leverage against China. Using prior intelligence, Al Gore’s team had scoured the globe to collect another three hundred billion. In exchange for handling the negotiations with China, they had secured a thirty percent success fee—amounting to one hundred and fifty billion dollars. In total, the United States had earned four hundred and fifty billion dollars in a single stroke. It was like winning the lottery jackpot.
With this windfall, they could revive the economy battered by 9/11 and resume welfare programs that had been paused for lack of funds.
“In return, we must reaffirm the One China policy and provide China with information on the criminal proceeds accounts we’ve identified. They also demand the immediate removal of the additional tariffs.”
“Haha, of course we’ll do that. We’re not the kind of country that changes its tune after achieving its goals.”
Since all American demands had been met, there was no need to maintain pressure. Besides, it was clear China intended to use those criminal accounts to fund the repayment of the Qing bonds. Even Al Gore had been shocked by the sheer scale of the hidden funds when he first received the report.
“I have a feeling plenty of interesting things are about to happen in China.”
The economic war with China was over, but the aftershocks were just beginning. The U.S. had already tampered with the list of secret accounts, making the spectacle all the more entertaining to watch. The list revealed corruption across every faction of the Chinese Communist Party, but the version handed to China deliberately emphasized members of the Shanghai Clique and the Princelings—factions opposed to President Hu Jintao. The goal was to sow maximum division within the Party leadership, and Hu Jintao had no choice but to accept it.
There were many other spoils from China as well.
“Make sure to convey my thanks to Chairman Yoo.”
Al Gore hadn’t forgotten that all these gains had come thanks to Yoo Jae-won.
“Of course, sir.”
Even the White House staff gathered in the office nodded in agreement. If China had held out, the economic war could easily have dragged on for over a year. China’s resilience was considerable, and as a nuclear power, the U.S. couldn’t simply dispatch special forces to extract the Skidrow Group hackers as they had in Afghanistan. What had forced China’s swift surrender was its Achilles’ heel: the hidden overseas slush fund accounts.
It was an open secret that U.S. intelligence agencies monitored international financial networks. Extracting useful information from the encrypted data flowing through those networks, however, had always been extremely difficult—until the Prism system. At the time of its introduction, critics had called it a waste of money. Those voices had since fallen silent. The system had proven its worth during 9/11 and played a decisive role in tracking China’s secret funds.
“How is our Chairman Yoo doing these days?”
Al Gore deliberately emphasized the word “our” when asking about Yoo Jae-won. He had been receiving real-time updates on Yoo’s U.S. citizenship application. America already possessed the world’s greatest concentration of geniuses, yet Yoo Jae-won stood apart even among them—an irregular of the highest order. Making him an American citizen had long been a White House priority, handled with such delicacy that no one had dared to pressure him directly. The news that Yoo had voluntarily chosen American citizenship brought Al Gore immense satisfaction. It was enough to make even Rupert Murdoch, currently in a difficult spot in Britain, seem almost endearing for a day.
Al Gore and Murdoch weren’t mortal enemies like Ted Turner and Murdoch, but political differences had kept them at odds, and Murdoch’s media empire had attacked Al Gore more times than he could count. Seeing the once-unassailable media mogul now under siege was deeply satisfying.
“He’s focused on acquiring NBC.”
“What’s your assessment?”
“We expect a smooth acquisition. The minor nationality issue that was holding things up has been cleanly resolved, and the purchase price was easily covered by the ID Technology IPO.”
The answer came from the National Security Advisor.
“Good. He’s more than capable on his own. From now on, keep watching from a distance unless something extraordinary happens. As long as his interests align with America’s, that’s enough. But if Chairman Yoo sends any message, never ignore it.”
“Understood.”
“Next item?”
Having finished discussing Yoo Jae-won, Al Gore turned to the next document.
“This one concerns North Korea.”
The transition from China to North Korea felt natural. Yet while the China discussion had been filled with laughter, the mood turned serious the moment North Korea was mentioned. North Korea wasn’t a major threat to the United States, but it wasn’t a country to be taken lightly either.
“How is the special envoy? I heard he arrived safely.”
“Yes, he’s being treated with the utmost hospitality. We’ve also received word that North Korea is highly satisfied with the light-water reactor project. The one-on-one meeting with Chairman Kim Jong-il has been confirmed for tomorrow. They’ve also agreed to watch the World Cup opening match together, so the atmosphere appears very positive.”
“Hmm. Creating a favorable atmosphere only to suddenly adopt an unreasonable hardline stance—that’s classic North Korean behavior, isn’t it?”
“Exactly, sir. It’s what they call a dual-track strategy—peaceful overtures masking aggressive intentions. Some call it a deceptive peace offensive.”
The National Security Advisor supplied the proper terminology.
“Right. They might pull the same trick again, so don’t fall into blind optimism.”
Al Gore issued a warning to his staff, whose tension had begun to ease after China’s successful resolution. The advisors straightened their postures and refocused.
Once the atmosphere had settled, the National Security Advisor began the briefing.
“Yes, Mr. President. So far, we’ve identified three possible scenarios. The first is that North Korea is simply paying lip service to China as a gesture of goodwill.”
“Haha! North Korea doing that?”
“The probability is extremely low, but it would be the best outcome for us. The second is that they genuinely intend to pursue space development. The third—and most likely—is that the space program is a cover for advancing missile delivery systems as part of their nuclear program. And we must not overlook the fact that China is involved in all three scenarios.”
North Korea’s sudden announcement of the absurd Kwangmyongsong missile program had been orchestrated by China from behind the scenes. No one knew what China, defeated in the economic war, might attempt next, but the first move would almost certainly come through North Korea, where Chinese influence was strongest. Al Gore and his advisors began a serious discussion about North Korea in a grave atmosphere.
At the same time…
“Tch. I thought this would be over quickly.”
Yoo Jae-won sat in his study—his personal workspace—tapping away at his keyboard while grumbling. He planned to attend not only South Korea’s matches but most of the major games during the month-long World Cup. Thanks to securing tickets well in advance, that part was no problem. He intended to stay in Korea for the full month, starting with a visit to the Rungrado 1st of May Stadium for the opening ceremony. There was only one regret: he wouldn’t be able to share the entire trip with Tiffany.
The merger between Chevron and Texaco was entering its final stages. Even as terrorism erupted across Europe, the stabilization of the Middle East had briefly slowed the rise in oil prices—though not reversed the upward trend. Texaco was still demanding a high price, but Chevron’s calculations had changed. Extensive pollution caused by Texaco’s oil development in the Amazon and Ecuador had come to light. What had been valued as high-value assets during last year’s due diligence were now liabilities requiring astronomical cleanup costs. Naturally, this affected Texaco’s overall valuation and caused its premium to plummet. With no other oil companies showing interest in acquiring Texaco, Chevron was in a position to negotiate on its own terms.
The person overseeing the deal was Tiffany. The information about Texaco’s pollution in the Ecuadorian jungle had, of course, come from Yoo Jae-won. But leveraging it as an M&A bargaining chip had been entirely Tiffany’s achievement. They had also decided to allocate the savings from the lower purchase price toward cleaning up the contaminated jungle. While the acquisition involved unexpected expenses for Chevron and Frederick, they were still securing Texaco at a far better price than they could have a few months earlier. The deal wasn’t finalized yet, however. Frederick needed to sign the final contract, and Tiffany had to be present, which meant she couldn’t accompany Yoo Jae-won to Korea.
Strangely, he didn’t feel particularly disappointed. In a way, this would be his first time traveling alone since their marriage. And it was happening right in the middle of the world’s greatest festival—the 2002 World Cup! To make the most of this opportunity created by converging events, he couldn’t afford any distractions. The best way to ensure that was to finish his remaining work in advance. That was why Yoo Jae-won had been working like a man possessed for the past few days. The problem was that the work wasn’t ending as easily as he had hoped.
“It’s not like I’m the only one working at the company, so why isn’t the workload decreasing?”
There were reasons if he looked for them. ID Technology’s IPO, the mountain of reports from ID Electronics after its complete brand strategy overhaul, and similar situations across other subsidiaries. As an IT company, he also had to closely monitor market trends, and problems seemed to be pouring in all at once. On top of that, IDDC—the ID Group’s largest product announcement event—was only two months away. This year’s IDDC was planned on an unprecedented scale, with the schedule extended from three days to five. As a result, Yoo Jae-won was fated to work himself to the bone until he left American soil.