The Call to Irkutsk
Based on history, the meetings with the company presidents with whom he shared a special rapport marked the final external appointment of the day. “N-Pay was definitely a bit premature.” Inside the car returning to his Seoul residence, Yoo Jae-won offered a brief assessment of N-Pay. His guiding principle was to stay exactly one step ahead of the times. N-Pay had followed that same logic. Once one-click payments succeeded, he had assumed N-Pay would follow suit, yet progress proved far slower than expected. Jae-won had believed he was leading with technology one step ahead, but to consumers and merchants alike the service felt far too unfamiliar. Even Yoo Jae-won did not enjoy unbroken success. There had been other services and products that failed in similar fashion. The portable MP3 player Livepod had seen sales plummet after smartphones became widespread. The Android Pad, which had created an entirely new tablet category, remained a niche product. Jin-dol-i, the innovative device combining IoT with home security, had fared even worse; cumulative sales since launch had yet to exceed one million units. At least Jin-dol-i had been created to commemorate the acquisition of Boston Dynamics, so its sales figures carried less weight, though the disappointment remained real.
Among these failures, N-Pay finally found its turning point with the arrival of AI Eyes. Paired with its core function—an artificial intelligence connected to the eye—AI Eyes also offered remarkable expandability. Converting images captured by the camera module into analyzable data produced synergies that were almost effortless to exploit. Camera, encyclopedia, translator, document creation, identity verification, and payments through N-Pay. The most groundbreaking new product to be unveiled at IDDC 2003 would not be the next version of the Android smartphone, but the AI Eyes app that would run inside it. After all, even for Yoo Jae-won, creating an extraordinarily innovative smartphone hardware platform within a single year remained impossible. His mind overflowed with revolutionary ideas, yet the factories capable of realizing them did not yet exist. Mobile AP fabrication still operated at the 120-nanometer node, and only ID Electronics’ laboratories had succeeded in producing 100-nanometer chips. Consequently, the M-series mobile processors could receive only minor improvements; any major performance leap would have to wait until the following year. As a result, the processor destined for the Android S3 announced at IDDC 2003 would be a minor upgrade of the M4, officially named the M4A1. It featured a modest increase in clock speed over the existing M4, along with four tensor core units added in the space freed by optimization to accelerate AI algorithms. The tensor cores themselves operated at a very basic level. Compared with the lavish AI acceleration cards of the mid-twenty-first century, their performance was negligible, yet they were perfectly adequate for AI Eyes, facial-recognition locks, and similar applications.
“I hope this isn’t moving too fast either.” If the service launched only to remain unused like N-Pay, the disappointment would be crushing. Still, his instincts felt exceptionally good. The surge of public interest in AI ignited by Real Camera was genuine. Moreover, the most critical factor for AI Eyes was the quality of its output, and even Jae-won had to admit its accuracy had reached impressive heights. He was now convinced that AI Eyes could even rescue N-Pay. The synergy would be extraordinary, and Korea—the fintech desert—would be the first place where such technology achieved true mass adoption.
The penthouse atop the ID Global Headquarters building offered a sweeping view of Seoul, as though one had climbed a high mountain. To most people it was an enviable home, yet to Yoo Jae-won it felt more like a vacation villa he visited only a few weeks each year. Had family been present it might have been different, but his parents remained in Deokjin-ri and Tiffany was away on a business trip to Siberia, leaving the place feeling empty. Of course, Kim Dae-seok and the security team also resided in the penthouse, yet they occupied separate quarters. Despite their long association, differences in age and position made genuine friendship difficult. Thus, upon returning home, Jae-won naturally gravitated toward his study. Relaxing with a BS beer while admiring the Seoul nightscape was pleasant enough, but the old truth remained: finishing tomorrow’s work today made the days ahead far smoother.
Seated at his desk, Jae-won booted up the application development toolkit for Android smartphones and began coding a new app—the delivery application he had promised Ryu Jun-sik of Yugyeong Group. Three versions were required: client, merchant, and server. N-Pay and one-click payments also had to be integrated, necessitating linkage with the financial module. The task sounded complicated, yet it posed no real difficulty.
“This is like swimming with both feet on the ground.” Jae-won never once hesitated while programming. No sophisticated architecture was needed; ensuring reliable communication between front-end and back-end was sufficient. Even integrating N-Pay into the merchant version proved straightforward, because ID Technology was Korea’s largest POS operator. ID Technology’s POS systems were installed not only in Yugyeong Group’s affiliated stores but in ordinary neighborhood supermarkets as well. Since deployment began in the early 1990s, the systems had grown steadily, and the performance of the POS hardware had been upgraded accordingly. Although the processors inside current POS units lagged two or three generations behind contemporary computers, they handled integration with N-Pay and the delivery app without issue.
“Done.” The word left Yoo Jae-won’s lips just after ten in the evening. Having started work late in the afternoon, he had completed the entire delivery application in less than five hours. Because he had built it alone, both the client and merchant versions looked crude on the surface—nothing but plain text without any polished interface. Functionally, however, the app was flawless. Once a merchant registered with the delivery app and uploaded location, menu photographs, descriptions, and prices, nearby users would see the information on their own apps and could place orders instantly. The server version incorporated comprehensive management functions capable of handling every conceivable issue from delivery to payment. Although payment-related data required extra care, it presented no significant obstacle for Jae-won.
He compressed the app package file, the fully commented source code following ID Group’s programming guide, the business plan, and reference documents, then transmitted everything to the POS division. Uploading the app to the app store was not the end; the delivery service would require ongoing management. Among all ID Group’s subsidiaries, the POS division was the most suitable organization to operate the business.
Having concluded another fulfilling day, Yoo Jae-won spoke with Tiffany until bedtime and then fell asleep.
Two days later.
The first page of the newspaper scrapbook Kim Dae-seok had brought contained the names of the incoming prime minister and deputy prime ministers of the Roh Moo-hyun administration. Although the prime minister held the highest post by rank, Jae-won’s eyes went first to the deputy prime ministers. Kim Seok-soo was a name that required considerable digging through memory, but Lee Hae-chan, Kim Jin-pyo, and Jin Dae-je were figures whose names immediately triggered a flood of information. Among them, Jae-won lingered on Lee Hae-chan. During his private audience with President Roh, Jae-won had suggested that if the president wished to gauge the resistance of vested interests, he should begin with private-school reform. Appointing Lee Hae-chan as Deputy Prime Minister of Education was clearly the answer. The word that came to mind with Lee Hae-chan was “hardliner.” The appointment conveyed President Roh’s unmistakable determination to wage a proper battle.
“Even in America, the news from Korea should make things quite entertaining.” Of course, both the private schools targeted for reform and the Roh Moo-hyun government itself would fight with everything they had, convinced that retreat meant death. To Yoo Jae-won, however, it was merely an interesting spectacle.
“It is time to depart, sir.”
Having begun his morning with the scrapbook, Jae-won rose at Kim Dae-seok’s words and tidied his desk. He then stepped into the elevator Kim Dae-seok had already summoned. With a soft chime the elevator began to move—not downward to the ground floor, but upward. On this final day in Korea, he had only one appointment: a visit to ID Electronics in Daejeon to meet Dr. Lisa Su. Rather than traveling by car, they would use a helicopter to reach Daejeon.
“Chairman!”
Outside the helipad, Dr. Lisa Su greeted Yoo Jae-won with exuberant enthusiasm as he stepped from the helicopter. Not only Lisa Su but Professor Lee Jong-hyo and most of the semiconductor team had come out to welcome him. It was understandable; Jae-won was their owner, and today’s visit was specifically to resolve the semiconductor team’s difficulties. The mission assigned to the semiconductor team was staggeringly heavy: development and mass production of the M4A1 processor for the next Android smartphone, fulfilling orders from companies that had entered Android-compatible smartphone manufacturing, and advancing the new 100-nanometer process. If it became known that a research team of fewer than one hundred people was tackling all these challenges simultaneously, semiconductor companies worldwide that subsisted on wafers would be shocked beyond belief. The feat was possible only because Dr. Lisa Su, Professor Lee Jong-hyo, and every member of the semiconductor team were world-class talents—geniuses one in a hundred million, as the saying went. Because such an enormous workload had been placed on their shoulders, Jae-won had been able to schedule only a half-day visit. Above all, the potential of the 120-nanometer process that Jae-won had spearheaded remained extraordinary. ID Electronics’ understanding of the 120-nanometer process far surpassed that of any other company. Consequently, even though other semiconductor firms were also using the 120-nanometer process thanks to the open-license policy, the quality of chips they produced differed markedly. The chips demonstrating the highest operating speed and best power efficiency at the same node were invariably the M4. As the company that had created the 120-nanometer process, ID Electronics possessed unmatched optimization know-how at that node, overwhelmingly surpassing the results of other firms in speed and power consumption.
Today, Yoo Jae-won also intended to share his expertise on the 90-nanometer process. Of course, Dr. Lisa Su’s team had begun researching the 90-nanometer process the day after completing the 120-nanometer node. Several years of work had already been invested, and considerable progress had been made, yet certain intractable problems remained. Naturally, Yoo Jae-won knew how to solve the difficulties the Lisa Su team had encountered. Lisa Su herself had known that Jae-won was coming precisely to resolve those issues, which explained the fervent welcome.
In truth, if Jae-won had wished, he could have completed the 90-nanometer process long ago. He had simply been waiting for the right moment, concerned that revealing future knowledge too freely might arouse unnecessary suspicion.
‘Ah, I was far too cautious.’
Faced with the team’s enthusiastic reception, Jae-won felt a twinge of self-reproach. Dr. Lisa Su, Professor Lee Jong-hyo, and every researcher on the semiconductor team regarded him as an extraordinary genius—not limited to any single field, but an all-round prodigy. They were people who would accept even the most dazzling future technologies with the simple thought, “Because it’s Yoo Jae-won.”
Jae-won was led straight to the laboratory by the semiconductor team. The meeting with the factory manager to receive a status report on the plant had to be postponed; their eagerness would brook no delay.
“Please, open the gift bag!”
“A gift?”
Jae-won had been about to feign ignorance when he saw the dark circles under the eyes of every member of the semiconductor team, regardless of rank, and quietly unlocked his briefcase to retrieve a USB memory stick.
“It contains a clean solution to the yield problem on 300-millimeter wafers, along with references on the core technologies of the next-generation 90-nanometer process. The key to the 90-nanometer process is the use of argon fluoride to stabilize the photoresist light source…”
A tremendous cheer erupted, as though Excalibur itself had emerged from the bag. At the same instant, all attention that had been fixed on Yoo Jae-won shifted to the USB drive, leaving him instantly forgotten. Jae-won understood with generous patience. He did not leave the room; whenever the researchers encountered passages they could not comprehend while reviewing the technical documents, he intended to offer kind explanations. The semiconductor team’s passion would soon bear fruit for ID Group and for Jae-won himself.
“Well then, shall we head to the airport?”
“Yes, sir! Flight preparations for the United States are already complete.”
Having stayed at the Daejeon plant longer than planned—more than half a day—Yoo Jae-won now had only departure remaining. Because he had already caught up with his parents, Vice Chairman Choi Kang-wook, President Hwang Jae-hong, Director Kim Kwang-il, and other acquaintances the previous day, Secretary Kim Dae-seok moved to depart immediately.
Ding!
At that moment, an alert sounded on Yoo Jae-won’s smartphone. It was a call from Tiffany. Kim Dae-seok naturally stepped back; even a shadow-like secretary knew to give privacy during personal conversations. The call, however, was brief. Moreover, the words that left Jae-won’s mouth were entirely unexpected.
“We need to go to Irkutsk, Russia.”
“Pardon?”
Kim Dae-seok had worked alongside Yoo Jae-won for a long time, yet changing the schedule on the same day was extraordinarily rare. And not just anywhere—Russia! Of course, Jae-won had sufficient reason. Tiffany’s call had conveyed a message from her grandfather, Fredrick Taylor II: there was an important matter to discuss, and Jae-won should come to Irkutsk. Irkutsk was the site of the massive oil field that had earned Tiffany the nickname “Queen of Black Gold.” It seemed Fredrick had reached some momentous decision.