The Genesis of Legend League
Yoo Jae-won had dozens of title candidates swirling in his mind. Yet none felt more fitting than Fantasy Universe - Legend League. It was a minor regret that he had borrowed the subtitle from a hit AOS game that would not launch for several years, but Yoo Jae-won already intended to recruit that company’s key personnel ahead of time. Some might praise the development team he had assembled so far, but he was not impressed. His goal was to bring in talent who truly understood AOS’s originality, creating a title that would surpass every other AOS game in both depth and entertainment value.
Because the project was on a scale that could rival even AAA titles, a massive development workforce was essential.
“Oh! I like the feel of it!” Mike Morhaime exclaimed first, gazing at the title projected on the screen. The others nodded in agreement. The title Fantasy Universe already explained the world. Heroes from countless dimensions gathering in one place had been established in Fantasy Universe, after all. From a business standpoint, renewing hero licenses would also become far simpler. Instead of one-off contracts with the various companies holding hero copyrights, ID Entertainment could bind them through Fantasy Universe and its sequels. Legend League worked the same way. The subtitle immediately conveyed that heroes would form five-man teams and battle it out.
Jeremy, the creator of Aeon of Strife, felt a twinge of disappointment that the word AOS itself did not appear, yet he was not overly bothered. With AOS-style custom maps flooding out of Blizzard titles and even Fantasy Universe, Yoo Jae-won’s explanation that AOS should simply become the genre name made sense. Kyle Sommer’s Defense of the Ancients—commonly shortened to DotA—had already evolved far beyond the original AOS format.
“We’ll keep the title secret until open beta. Internally, we’ll call it Project LL. You all know why,” Yoo Jae-won said. Everyone answered in unison. ID Group was the prime target for industrial spies and copycats. In the IT sector, imitation was easy; once something gained traction, similar products poured out. If word spread that ID Entertainment’s next title was an AOS game, rival companies would flood the market with their own AOS titles and dilute its freshness.
“Shall we continue?” Yoo Jae-won’s next slide was not just the title. A simple square minimap appeared.
“This is a rough sketch of the legendary canyon where the heroes will fight.”
The drawing looked like something made in basic paint software, so it did not immediately catch the eye. Yet every key element was clearly present: the Red Team base in the upper right, the Blue Team base in the lower left, the top, mid, and bottom lanes, small gaps between lanes that allowed flanking, patches of reeds along each lane, and the shop locations. Crude as the drawing was, it contained gameplay features that belonged to a fully realized AOS—features that would not appear in other games for years.
“Good heavens! What is all this?” Even Kyle Sommer, creator of DotA, stared with his mouth agape. He had already pushed primitive AOS maps to new heights, but this went further still.
“I’ve played plenty of AOS games myself. The more I thought about how to make them more fun and richer, the more these ideas came to me.”
“Incredible.”
Yoo Jae-won’s vision was vast, and he had shown less than one percent of it. He was already planning a virtual-reality version of Fantasy Universe - Legend League. If that succeeded, ID Entertainment’s dominance would remain absolute even after virtual reality became mainstream.
“This isn’t set in stone. It’s only my idea, and I have no intention of ignoring your opinions. Feel free to suggest alternatives or new ideas at any time.”
“Ah!” Mike Morhaime let out a short gasp. “Does that mean you’ll be participating in Project LL yourself, Chairman?”
Yoo Jae-won nodded. “Of course. Have you already forgotten that I’m the one who gathered everyone here? I’ll stay involved until the end.”
He had brought Jeremy and Kyle Sommer in to strengthen the foundation of Fantasy Universe - Legend League. More developers would join from outside in the future. Their abilities were proven, yet simply putting talented people in one room did not guarantee a masterpiece. The real danger was the project drifting off course. To prevent that, someone had to set the direction—someone like Yoo Jae-won himself.
His goal was simple: create an AOS game better than anything that had come before his regression. It sounded difficult, but with everyone united, it was entirely possible.
“Does anyone have other plans?” Yoo Jae-won looked around the room one last time. No hands rose.
“Then, before we look at the next slide, shall we handle the contracts?”
As expected, Yoo Jae-won produced the prepared contracts. Mike Morhaime and Gabe Newell did not need new agreements, but Jeremy and Kyle Sommer, who had been outsiders until yesterday, required formal contracts.
“Ah! Wait a moment!”
The two men, hands trembling as they received the documents, tried to sign without reading the thick stack. Yoo Jae-won immediately stopped them.
“Read everything to the end before signing!”
Scratching their heads, they began to read.
“Whoa—annual salary of $120,000?”
The figure was not unusually high by ID Group standards. The company no longer operated on a whim; it had proper systems for ranks and compensation. A starting salary of $120,000 was exceptional and generous, especially in both Korea and the United States. Even new hires from Stanford, MIT, or Caltech at ID Group received slightly less—around $100,000. People often asked whether giving new employees so much money left any profit, but the answer was always yes—tremendous profit.
ID Group’s margins remained high. Though it now operated manufacturing arms like ID Electronics and ID Display, its core identity was still that of an IT firm. Heavy personnel expenses reduced taxable income, and offering exceptional pay was the surest way to attract top talent like a black hole. Moreover, the tasks given to ID Group developers were highly challenging: operating-system development, perfect security, solving partner companies’ technical problems. Because Yoo Jae-won had raised the bar using future knowledge from the very beginning of Android OS, the required expertise had grown accordingly. Demand for brilliant minds kept rising, and nothing recruited them more reliably than high compensation.
Jeremy and Kyle Sommer were exceptional talents as well. That was why their offers exceeded even those given to new graduates from Stanford or Caltech by twenty percent. Of course, the two had every reason to command that premium.
In exchange for such generous starting salaries, the contracts contained strict conditions. The most prominently emphasized clause was the security agreement. ID Group handled technology far ahead of its time, and countless parties sought to steal it. The warning could never be repeated enough. Among all audits conducted at ID Group, technology leaks carried the heaviest weight and the most certain punishment. New hires received high pay precisely because they were expected to maintain flawless security awareness, and every detail was spelled out in the contract.
“Excellent!”
After reading every page, the two signed without hesitation.
“Well then, the Task Force team is now complete! Let’s go blow the gamers’ minds.”
Yoo Jae-won’s declaration was met with applause. The great first step of Project LL had begun.
With such action-oriented people gathered, the organization formed rapidly. A second development team was created inside Fire Fist Games, with Mike Morhaime serving as overall producer. Consequently, the office for the new team was prepared in Irvine, California—home of Blizzard’s headquarters. Fire Fist Games in Korea also began recruiting for the second team; anyone who wished to transfer would receive housing assistance in the United States and expedited work visas. Whether it was due to Development Team Leader Choi Jeong-geun’s popularity or the lure of working in America with a significantly higher salary, a large number of staff chose to move to the U.S.
Jeremy and Kyle Sommer packed their bags immediately, but unlike Mike Morhaime, Gabe Newell—who still had much to do on Steam—decided to join at the alpha-test stage and stepped back for now. Yoo Jae-won, having been Fire Fist Games’ representative from the start, needed no further adjustments.
Development proceeded smoothly. Fantasy Universe had been designed from the outset to support multiple modes—kart racing, puzzle games, side-scrolling action, and more. To let the same characters appear across genres, resources had to be easily reusable. Furthermore, because the ID Tech Engine was highly versatile, converting Fantasy Universe - Storm of Time and Space into an AOS genre was not difficult.
The real challenge was ensuring the developers who had crossed over from Korea and the new recruits settled in. Reports indicated that if they maintained the same consistent performance they had shown in Korea, an alpha-test version could be ready by early next year. A full release by autumn or year-end was virtually certain. Gamers could not have asked for better news.
The next day, Yoo Jae-won returned to his usual routine. While Project LL’s progress was the highest priority, there was nothing he needed to handle immediately. What Yoo Jae-won did best was refining the details that separated masterpieces from mass-produced games—impact feel, balance, controls, and other intangible yet essential elements. No specialist was better at polishing those details than he was. However, such refinement could only occur once the game reached a certain stage of completion, so for now his direct contribution to Project LL was limited.
What welcomed him back to daily life were stacks of approval documents.
“Wow, that’s a lot.”
His complaint was brief. There were many documents, yet far fewer than before. ID Group had grown substantially, and the capabilities of its presidents had risen accordingly. Minor matters were now handled at the president level, which meant Yoo Jae-won’s workload had decreased. The business documents piled in his inbox were noticeably lighter than in the past.
“Where should I start?”
Among the various files, the report on the latest smartphone trends caught his eye first. Opening the document revealed a flood of numbers and charts. The very first item concerned the Android S2 released at IDDC 2002: daily sales figures, sales by country, preferred colors and storage capacities by nation, and more. Among all the data, the number that stood out most was the sales volume for the past month: 3.05 million units. Even with a higher price than its predecessor, first-month sales had far exceeded the previous model despite being released only two years later. Analysts attributed the surge to pent-up demand finally exploding.
ID Electronics’ monthly production capacity was roughly 1.5 million units, so fulfilling orders would be tight, yet the situation remained manageable for now. Production had already begun before the IDDC 2002 announcement, allowing inventory to cover the gap. Still, the report warned that once the second-wave countries launched on schedule, supply shortages could become a real problem.
Next came Apple’s movements. There was a high probability that Apple would unveil a new iPhone at Apple World early next year. Yoo Jae-won had expected something for Thanksgiving this year, but it seemed Steve Jobs, shocked by the completeness of the Android S2, had decided to raise the bar even higher. No spies had been planted inside Apple, yet the information was remarkably accurate—possible only because ID Group’s reach was that extensive. The flash memory inside the iPhone was Korean-made; ID Electronics held the largest market share in flash memory, followed by Kumseong Semiconductor. Many of the sensor chips used in the iPhone also came from companies in which Yoo Jae-won had invested. Foxconn’s utilization rate and TSMC’s order volumes provided excellent indicators of Apple’s direction.
Apple remained the only serious rival to Android in the smartphone space. Though it did not match ID’s scale, it still commanded a sizable fanbase and benefited from economies of scale. The data made it clear that the new product would not launch this Thanksgiving.
“They’ll time it with the 3G announcement, won’t they?”
The current wireless standard was 2.5G. With 3G arriving next year, Apple would likely align its launch accordingly.
Following Apple’s movements came the list of companies that had applied to join Open Mobile Android. At IDDC 2002, Yoo Jae-won had announced that the mobile Android operating system would be opened. In response, numerous companies eyeing the smartphone market had declared their participation.
“As expected, this company didn’t miss out.”
Yoo Jae-won nodded as he scanned the list. It included major American and European firms, Japanese companies, and even Sony—despite their rivalry. Naturally, a host of obscure Chinese firms had also signed up. In the midst of all this, Korea’s Ilsung Group had likewise added its name to the roster.