Xbox 2's Final Specs and the Music Awards Controversy

The final specifications for the Xbox 2 were set: an AMD Phenom X6 CPU, an ATI Radeon X1800XT GPU, 4 gigabytes of DDR3 main memory, an 80-gigabyte hard disk drive, 100 Mbps Ethernet, and the Android 2003 for Xbox operating system. The most expensive components in the Xbox 2, the CPU and GPU, ended up being supplied by AMD and ATI. Objectively, Intel and NVIDIA offered superior performance, but when factoring in the need to extract the best value from a limited budget, the outcome shifted. AMD and ATI approached the Xbox 2 contract as if their entire futures depended on it, doing everything possible to meet ID Group's specifications and price targets. The most significant concession came in the form of supply pricing in the $100 range. To be precise, the CPU came in at $259 and the GPU at $199—still expensive, yet considering the chips' performance far exceeded what a game console typically required, it amounted to supplying them at roughly half their normal price.

That said, neither company was simply offering the chips at a loss in exchange for steady Xbox 2 revenue. Beyond the reliable income stream, the real gain was equity in ID Technology's production capacity. The semiconductor dies were enormous. AMD's hexa-core CPU measured in the high 300 mm² range, while the X1800XT boasted an expansive early-400 mm² area. Such large dies naturally suffered from poor yields. At best, errors occurred in non-critical areas like cache memory or shaders, which could be laser-trimmed and down-binned for sale. The problem was that even this workaround only became viable once yields reached a certain threshold. While PC users often equate yield with high clock speeds, semiconductor manufacturers counted any chip that could be made to function—whether by disabling faulty sections or lowering operating speeds—as part of their yield. Even so, these so-called "Big Beauty" chips posted dismal yields. Furthermore, they were slated for the 90 nm process rather than 100 nm, and at the time only ID Technology possessed the capability to manufacture at that node worldwide.

In exchange for supplying chips near cost for the Xbox 2, AMD and ATI secured priority access to ID Technology's 90 nm production capacity—a strategic move. Intel, with its own fabs, remained confident it could simply license the 90 nm technology the way it had with the 120 nm process. NVIDIA, dominant in the discrete graphics market, trusted TSMC's production capacity. While impressed by ID Technology's advanced process, NVIDIA balked at the higher cost compared to TSMC. NVIDIA's founder being Taiwanese also played a role; despite solid ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠business instincts, his background tilted the decision toward TSMC. TSMC, having lost some of NVIDIA's volume to ID Technology, had poured resources into the new node and slashed prices, so NVIDIA chose to back TSMC this time.

Interestingly, the same NVIDIA that showed little enthusiasm for the Xbox 2 was far more aggressive with Sony. Sony, loudly declaring its intent to "defeat Xbox," was nearing completion of the PlayStation 3. While the CPU would be IBM's CELL processor, Sony could not design its own GPU, leaving ATI or NVIDIA as the only options. NVIDIA offered Sony substantial discounts to close the deal. Sony's victory in the sixth-generation console war appeared to carry significant weight. Yet NVIDIA had not simply diverted resources from the Xbox 2 to Sony; the Xbox 2 had demanded NVIDIA's next-generation flagship G80, whereas Sony settled for the current-generation G70. This created a massive performance gap between the Xbox 2 and PlayStation 3—roughly 50 to 60 percent in GPU capability alone. Sony clearly believed its CPU advantage with CELL would more than compensate, revealing just how much faith the company placed in the CELL processor.

Indeed, once autumn arrived, Sony launched an aggressive media campaign for the PlayStation 3, with claims that left mouths agape:

Even Yoo Jae-won ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would have struggled to recover from such extravagant claims, yet Sony seemed utterly convinced of its position. Meanwhile, Yoo Jae-won completed the Xbox 2 prototype and moved into the final stages of mass production.

"All right, from here on, I'll leave it in your hands."

Having advanced the 90 nm process to C-step and finalized contracts with the CPU and GPU suppliers, Yoo Jae-won stepped back from production matters. He handed the task to the Xbox team, which had flown in from Korea at his request.

"Yes, Chairman. We will take full responsibility for mass production."

The Xbox team leader answered with reassuring confidence. Having proven his capabilities during the original Xbox's production, he earned Yoo Jae-won's trust, allowing the chairman to depart without concern.

"It's almost the end of the year."

After stopping by his parents' home in Deokjin-ri to say goodbye before his flight, Yoo Jae-won returned to Seoul and felt a warm glow from the festive atmosphere on the streets. Though a sharp winter wind blew outside—typical of Korea's distinct seasons—it posed no real problem for him. The real issue was the opposition lawmakers still holding candlelight vigils in Gwanghwamun to protest the Private School Act revisions.

"I have to give them credit for their persistence."

Even though the revised Private School Act had already passed, the outdoor protests continued.

"Or maybe they have some hidden agenda."

Yoo Jae-won's Android smartphone displayed a news photo of the rising star of the opposition who had emerged from the Private School Act protests: Assemblywoman Park Geun-hye. The image showed her at the front of the demonstration, candle in hand, with senior opposition figures arrayed behind her facing off against the police. As the eldest daughter of former President Park Chung-hee, Park Geun-hye had gained significant prominence through the protests, becoming a genuine "Yeouido rising star." In a sense, it was inevitable. Park Chung-hee remained an indelible figure in modern Korean history, and his daughter had already left her own substantial mark on twenty-first-century Korean politics. She inherited the image of Park Chung-hee, the icon of Korea's modernization, and leveraged it to win election to the National Assembly with relative ease. Before the regression, she had ridden a roller-coaster trajectory all the way to becoming Korea's first female president. The problem was that, despite enormous expectations that she would lead a stagnant Korea into a second modernization just as her father had done, she shattered those hopes with her own hands. A scandal involving an unelected power broker led to her impeachment, and when the Constitutional Court upheld the impeachment, her political career ended. The aura she had inherited from Park Chung-hee crumbled along with her, and the conservative forces that had relied on that legacy began to collapse as well.

Park Geun-hye's path in this life followed a similar pattern. She joined the Grand National Party after declaring support for Lee Hoi-chang in the 1997 presidential election, then won a seat representing Dalseong in Daegu. When the Private School Act revisions began, she threw herself into the protests with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠particular vigor—understandable, given that Yeungnam University, one of the private schools she had inherited from her father, stood to be directly affected. Her stance was even more hardline than Yoo Jae-won remembered from before the regression. Conservative media naturally focused its spotlight on her, and conservative forces began coalescing around her.

"Next year's general election is going to be quite dynamic."

The opposition was also moving toward unification to counter the coalition between the Democratic Party and the Tongil National Party. It was surprising, considering the opposition was currently split between President Kim Young-sam's Grand National Party and the Democratic Korea Party, the successor to the military faction. Kim Young-sam had carried out the execution of Chun Doo-hwan, crossing a point of no return between the two groups. That structure had begun to fracture after the 2003 presidential election, when Lee In-je bolted from the Tongil National Party after losing the primary, creating a middle ground. The post-party alliance that broke away from the Democratic Party formed yet another faction. The extreme polarization between the Grand National Party and the Democratic Korea Party had softened. With Park Geun-hye's sudden rise during the Private School Act protests, a path opened for the Democratic Korea Party to align with the Grand National Party. Naturally, this led to talk of a grand conservative unification aimed at punishing the arrogant ruling party in next year's general election.

"That absolutely cannot be allowed to happen."

Yoo Jae-won could not stand by and watch. He knew from personal experience before the regression what kind of disaster would unfold if Park Geun-hye became president. If events followed their previous course and she ascended to the presidency, the unelected power broker behind her would undoubtedly covet his wealth and technology. He could say with certainty that it would be preferable to support Lee In-je, who suffered from presidential ambitions, or even Lee Hoi-chang in the worst case. Standing there until the piercingly blue winter sky faded into a cozy purple sunset, Yoo Jae-won turned the matter over in his mind again and again, but the conclusion never changed. If anything, his conviction that Park Geun-hye must be stopped only grew stronger.

Eventually, Yoo Jae-won sent a message to Director Kim Kwang-il, instructing him to watch for any forces deliberately elevating Park Geun-hye and to investigate whether organized movements were underway. He also messaged the representative of the Tongil National Party, urging thorough preparation for next year's general election and offering whatever assistance might be needed. Since the time he had supported Grandfather Jeon Myeong-heon, Yoo Jae-won had avoided political commercials entirely. This issue, however, was too important; he resolved to act even if it later became a black mark on his record. At least there was some consolation: the autonomous driving and artificial intelligence-related bills had passed in their original form. With the legal foundation in place, electric vehicles could now be sold once their safety was properly certified. Guidelines for AI research, development, and deployment had also been established. The law explicitly required that artificial intelligence be used solely to benefit humanity. Provisions for compensation in cases of damage caused by mismanagement of the big data required for AI development had been added as well. Companies were now obligated to respond whenever personal information providers requested verification of how their data was being managed, and they had to comply with requests to withdraw or delete shared personal information. Despite the chaotic state of the National Assembly, Korea had become only the second country in the world after the United States to enact AI-related legislation, dramatically improving conditions for the fourth industrial revolution compared to the past.

"Politics really is a living organism."

After sending the messages, Yoo Jae-won felt somewhat relieved. The fatigue from standing so long settled into his legs with a heavy sensation. He sank into a nearby recliner and turned on the television; several hours remained until his flight, and he needed to pass the time. Games were good for stress relief, but he had no desire to play right now. The hottest titles at the moment were Fantasy Universe—Legend League, followed by World of Warcraft: The Burning Crusade. The classic StarCraft still ranked high in PC bangs. What these games shared was direct competition between players, complete with rankings—too weighty for casual play. Clearing his head was best done by simply leaving the television on.

- Best Supporting Actor goes to… Baek Yoon-shin for Protect the Earth!

"Ah, award season because it's the end of the year."

The broadcast showed coverage of the Daejong Film Awards. Though it was the oldest of Korea's three major film festivals, its authority had plummeted due to the contrived "Aniggyeng" scandal that had pushed certain winners. Yoo Jae-won felt no particular curiosity about the Daejong Awards. What caught his attention instead was the keyword "awards ceremony."

"Come to think of it, we could probably hold our own awards show now."

Next Music alone possessed enough influence to host a music awards ceremony. With over ten years of history, Next Music had become the standard for music streaming services. Even artists signed to different distributors now found it natural to upload their tracks to Next Music. This held true not only in Korea but globally. EMI, Vivendi, Universal Music, and even Sony Music supplied tracks to Next Music, having ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠confirmed that the platform neither discriminated in promotion nor in royalty settlements. Consequently, the Next Music charts served as a direct barometer of an artist's public popularity. An awards show modeled on the Next Music charts—something like a "Song Festival"—would be credible to everyone, especially since every year-end awards ceremony, including the Daejong Awards, was perpetually mired in controversy. ID Group also operated a comprehensive cable channel, and with Nextcom's tens of millions of users, internet streaming would be straightforward. It seemed entirely feasible.

"We could even do it starting this year."

While gathering busy singers at the end of the year would be challenging, generous appearance fees and spectacular stage productions befitting ID Group's stature would solve that problem. With more than forty days remaining until the end of December, there was ample time. Having made his decision, Yoo Jae-won immediately called Arthur Watson, president of ID Media Group. It was an impulsive choice, but that single call would ultimately create the most exciting year-end awards ceremony in the global music industry. After finishing his conversation with Arthur Watson, Yoo Jae-won boarded his flight in good spirits. Having successfully completed the 90 nm process and the Xbox 2 hardware in Korea, he felt no lingering attachment. What remained was software—the operating system and the launch title The Pacific, both needed to fully unlock the Xbox 2's top-tier hardware performance.

The flight to the United States passed quickly. Though he arrived late at night local time, he still had an intensely passionate reunion with Tiffany, who had stayed awake waiting for him. From the next day onward, Yoo Jae-won immediately shut himself in his study and began programming work for the Xbox 2. The Xbox project was the most urgent matter on his plate. Yet even in this state of intense focus, his concentration soon fractured—because of an unexpected controversy that had erupted back in Korea. It stemmed from the push to launch the Next Music Awards.