Side Effects
Side Effect. Today, the most anticipated match of the 2002 FIFA World Cup was the game between the host nation, South Korea, and Poland. The venue was Busan Asiad Main Stadium, and kickoff was set for 8:30 p.m.—still two hours away.
“My choice was right after all.” Yoo Jae-won gazed at the sea of red gathered at Gwanghwamun Square in front of Seoul City Hall and felt a surge of admiration. If he had wanted, he could have easily secured a seat in the VIP box at Busan Asiad Main Stadium. Yet he had come to Gwanghwamun Square because he wanted to experience the raw energy of street cheering—the very birthplace of the phenomenon—directly with his own body.
“All right, let’s cheer once more for our national team’s victory over Poland! Next up is ‘Oh! Victory Korea!’”
An upbeat cheering song echoed from the large outdoor stage installed at Gwanghwamun Square. Naturally, the massive screen was a product of Yoo Jae-won’s sponsorship. Built with ID Display’s proud Infinity Display technology, the screen stretched sixteen meters wide. Not one, but four such screens had been set up so that anyone standing anywhere in the square could watch the match in vivid detail. The same Infinity Display technology would be deployed at street-cheering sites across the country. This was the perfect opportunity to flood the market so that whenever people thought of LCD, ID Display would be the first name that came to mind.
While Yoo Jae-won was lost in these thoughts, the stage setup finished and lively music burst forth. “Oh! Victory Korea” was a track from the official cheering album released by the Red Devils, South Korea’s national team supporters’ group. Its roots traced back to the late 1990s, and it had occasionally been heard in European leagues. For the 2002 World Cup, the rock band YB had rearranged it into a rock style that was nothing short of addictive, turning it into a massive hit. The lyrics were short, and the catchy chorus—“Oh! Victory Korea!”—repeated endlessly, making it incredibly easy to sing along. Even though FIFA had selected its own official song, television broadcasts played “Oh! Victory Korea” far more often.
“Oh! Victory Korea! Oh-oh! Leo-reo!”
Yoo Jae-won cast aside thoughts of international politics and ID Group business and jumped along with the crowd. His face was well-known, so there was always a risk that people might recognize him and cause a scene, but everyone’s eyes were glued to the stage, so he had nothing to worry about. He had swapped his usual tailored suit for a red T-shirt like everyone else, added a cap and sunglasses, and even painted the Taegeuk flag on his hands and face. He had completely blended into the crowd. No matter how sharp someone’s eyes were, it was nearly impossible to spot the world’s richest man among them. The burly bodyguards around him wore the same Red Devils shirts instead of stiff suits, so they didn’t stand out either. They remained professionals, their senses sharpened to the highest level. Protecting a VIP in the middle of a massive crowd was the most difficult assignment imaginable, and they stayed fully alert. No matter how exciting the national team’s match was, they could never afford to relax.
“Ah, this is a historic moment. I should take a picture.”
Yoo Jae-won pulled out his Android Phone. Instead of holding it normally, he attached it to a selfie stick, raised it as high as possible, and spun around to capture the scene. “This kind of thing is best posted right away.”
He immediately opened the TokTok app and tapped the image-upload button, then began selecting the best shots from the ones he had just taken.
“You should avoid any photos that reveal your location,” Kim Dae-seok said, ever the cautious secretary who never left Yoo Jae-won’s side.
“Of course.”
While many social media platforms had launched recently, TokTok still held the largest user base as the first mover. From the start, it had attracted Hollywood actors, powerful politicians, and celebrities. Their proven influence drew in ordinary users in a rush, turning TokTok into a global phenomenon and the very synonym for social media. Follower counts became a point of pride, and Yoo Jae-won’s already ranked within the top five. First place belonged to Ellen DeGeneres, the star of the popular American sitcom Ellen, with over ten million followers and still climbing rapidly. Second was singer Justin Timberlake, formerly the youngest member of the boy band NSYNC. His debut solo album earlier in 2002 had been a huge success, pushing his follower count to nine million. Yoo Jae-won sat in third with just over six million. Though he was far more famous than either Ellen DeGeneres or Justin Timberlake in certain circles, he had never been particularly diligent about posting, so others had overtaken him. The best way to grow followers was to consistently upload striking photos and posts that captured public attention, but Yoo Jae-won rarely bothered. The few photos and posts he did share were mostly business-related, and the occasional personal shot carried a distinctly middle-aged vibe. Still, six million followers carried enormous influence, especially among Koreans. It was reasonable to assume many of them were gathered here at Gwanghwamun Square right now. If Yoo Jae-won posted a photo showing his exact location on TokTok, it could cause problems—hence Kim Dae-seok’s warning.
Yoo Jae-won cropped the photos so the location was unrecognizable and uploaded only a portion. Even though the images were tightly framed, the atmosphere of the scene came through clearly. Because countless media outlets monitored his every move, the photos he posted on TokTok instantly spread across the internet. This became the spark that ignited explosive public interest in street cheering.
One notable detail amid all this: even with over a hundred thousand people packed into Gwanghwamun Square, Yoo Jae-won enjoyed uninterrupted wireless internet service. This was no special privilege. Behind the scenes, numerous companies had worked tirelessly to prepare for the World Cup. Among them, TG Mobile had exerted several times more effort than the rest—because Yoo Jae-won was its second-largest shareholder. Knowing the World Cup would be a resounding success, he had ordered TG Mobile to prepare far more equipment than originally planned. Although the company had not become an official World Cup sponsor, it had secured an official partnership with the Red Devils. Anyone visiting a TG Mobile store received a free Red Devils T-shirt. One hundred thousand shirts had been prepared for the occasion. There had been concerns about leftover inventory, but Yoo Jae-won was certain that once the Poland match ended, the mood would shift dramatically.
TG Mobile had also launched an event giving 300 MB of free data every time the Korean team scored. No entry was required; simply being a TG Mobile subscriber automatically entered you. A victory would grant a generous 1 GB. TG Mobile’s internal calculations suggested at least one win was likely, though advancing past the group stage remained uncertain—making the bold promotion feasible. While ordinary citizens rarely noticed the difference in service quality on normal days, the gap became glaringly obvious during large-scale gatherings like today. TG Mobile had deployed numerous mobile base stations at Gwanghwamun Square and other street-cheering locations nationwide. The investment was paying off handsomely. While subscribers of Ilseong Telecom and KTF saw their signal indicators go completely dark or show only a single bar, TG Mobile users enjoyed at least three bars. Android Phone users, benefiting from far superior communication technology, saw four bars or more. Text messages, voice calls, and internet access all worked without issue. Although TG Mobile was already South Korea’s top telecom provider, Yoo Jae-won was confident that by the end of the World Cup, its dominance would be even more unshakable. Of course, some inside the company were currently grumbling that he was forcing excessive investment based on overly optimistic World Cup forecasts, but he knew those voices would change their tune soon enough.
For reference, ID Group had already reorganized itself into full World Cup mode. Nextcom featured a dedicated World Cup page, with special sections created for each participating country. Steam, Nextcom Music, and even 2CH.com were all running World Cup events. Steam was distributing special coupons that increased the discount rate by 10% every time South Korea—or whichever nation a user had chosen—won. The idea of tying discounts to Korea’s victories had, of course, come from Yoo Jae-won himself. Though he now held American citizenship, he had never hidden his Korean identity; on the contrary, he actively highlighted it whenever the opportunity arose. Greeting audiences in Korean at the opening of IDDC had already become a tradition. And since Korea’s strong performance in this World Cup was a fact, it was nothing but good news for gamers worldwide.
A short while later:
“The match is starting!”
“Ah, our players look too tense—their movements are stiff!”
“Poland’s sharp counterattack! Aaaah! That was dangerous! The players need to relax!”
“Aaaah! The ball just misses the goalpost by a hair!”
A collective sigh of relief swept through Gwanghwamun Square as the fevernova ball narrowly missed the net.
“Whew, that was close.”
Yoo Jae-won’s heart had skipped a beat as well. The Korean players still seemed stiff in the opening minutes, struggling to keep up with Poland’s attacks.
‘Wait—could the outcome be changing because of me?’
Anxiety began to grow in Yoo Jae-won’s mind. He checked the clock on his Android Phone more frequently. Even after the expected time for a goal had passed, the frustrating stalemate continued. He even wondered whether the unified team’s disrupted chemistry was preventing any goals from being scored.
Then it happened.
“The defender clears the ball and passes to Lee Eul-yong!”
“Lee Eul-yong delivers a sharp cross!”
“Hwang Sun-hong! Aaaah! Hwang Sun-hong!! Shoooooot! Goal!!!”
“Hwang Sun-hong’s instinctive left-footed volley! The opening goal is in!!”
Just as anxiety reached its peak, Hwang Sun-hong received Lee Eul-yong’s cross and fired a nonstop volley. The ball flew straight into the Polish net. A match that had seemed destined to be difficult had completely turned around with a single goal. For a moment, silence fell over the more than one hundred thousand people gathered at Gwanghwamun Square. Then, as reality sank in after a few seconds, an enormous roar erupted.
“Whoa! Incredible!”
Even Yoo Jae-won, who had known the result in advance, experienced the strange sensation of extreme tension transforming into overwhelming joy. Those who had no idea what was coming felt an even greater catharsis from the lightning-fast goal. People jumped and hugged complete strangers. Unfortunately, everyone around Yoo Jae-won was a bodyguard, so he missed the chance to embrace an anonymous fan, but the disappointment didn’t register at all in that moment.
From then on, the Poland match unfolded exactly as Yoo Jae-won remembered. With their bodies loosened, Korea began to dominate Poland in terms of performance. Yoo Sang-chul’s additional goal sealed the victory. The final score was 2-0, a win for South Korea. Even more remarkably, Korea had completely overwhelmed Poland until the final whistle. This was on an entirely different level from the narrow victory of the past. If not for Polish goalkeeper Dudek’s heroic saves, the score could easily have been 4-0. Following yesterday’s result against France, Korea was continuing its string of upsets in the 2002 World Cup.
And that was not the only shocking development. Though it was an off-field matter, it was by no means unrelated to the World Cup. A bombshell news report struck late in the evening.
South Korea achieving its first-ever FIFA World Cup victory was already a major event, and television was in the middle of special coverage when this breaking news arrived. Some people wondered why former U.S. President Clinton’s return to Korea was such big news when Korea had just defeated a European powerhouse like Poland. Yet Clinton’s homecoming overshadowed even the national team’s historic first win—because when he had traveled to North Korea, he had gone alone. Now, as he entered Seoul Airport, he was accompanied by a large group of people. Their nationalities were South Korean and Japanese, spanning all ages and genders. These individuals were the long-rumored abductees—a side effect of the global shockwave caused by the 9/11 terrorist attacks as it rippled through China and finally reached the Korean Peninsula.