Game Changer

Monday morning.

Kim Hyeoncheol moistened his dry lips with the tip of his tongue and straightened his tie.

He was standing on the top floor of Seongsam Electronics’ Seocho headquarters, outside Vice Chairman Lee Jaeyoung’s office.

The thin resignation letter envelope tucked inside his jacket suddenly felt heavy.

...Let’s go in.

Knock, knock.

From inside, Vice Chairman Lee Jaeyoung’s calm voice answered.

Kim Hyeoncheol opened the door and stepped in carefully.

The office was spacious. At its center, behind a massive desk, Lee Jaeyoung lifted his head.

His eyes behind his glasses looked as gentle as ever, but there was no telling what he was really feeling.

“You’re here, Director Kim.”

“Yes, Vice Chairman.”

Kim Hyeoncheol bowed stiffly, so tense he looked like a criminal waiting to be sentenced.

At that, Lee Jaeyoung let a faint smile touch his lips.

“Not there. Come over here.”

The place he pointed to was not the chair in front of the desk used for reports.

It was the guest sofa.

...The sofa?

A chill ran down Kim Hyeoncheol’s spine.

Normally, meetings and reports ended right there at the desk.

If he was being called to the sofa, then this had to be about something outside of business.

Which meant it was probably about his future at the company.

So this is it, then.

While Kim Hyeoncheol was still thinking that—

“Please sit.”

“...Thank you.”

As Kim Hyeoncheol lowered himself onto the edge of the sofa, Lee Jaeyoung personally poured coffee into a cup.

“You take black coffee, right?”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

“Ah... yes. Thank you.”

Lee Jaeyoung set the cup down in front of him and sat back comfortably on the sofa opposite.

A moment later, he took a sip.

Slurp...

Then he nudged the report on the table with one finger.

“I read the report.”

“...”

“Crazy Bird turned into a massive hit over the weekend. Nearly five million downloads in just two days... I doubt anyone expected such a lightweight little game to have that kind of impact.”

Lee Jaeyoung’s voice never rose or fell.

That only made it feel heavier.

“And when Another Technology submitted it to Apple’s App Store, they apparently said they were disappointed in our judgment.”

“...That’s right. I have no excuse.”

Unlike the gloomy Kim Hyeoncheol, Lee Jaeyoung let out a dry chuckle.

“How should I put this? It’s rather remarkable, wouldn’t you say?”

“Pardon?”

“No company can ever be absolutely certain a product will succeed before it’s launched. And yet they said they were disappointed in our judgment even before the app was released, no—before it even passed review... which means they were certain it would succeed.”

“...”

“We’re pouring the company’s full resources into preparing Galleon right now, but even honestly, we can’t say with certainty that it’ll succeed, can we?”

“...No, we can’t.”

Kim Hyeoncheol nodded quietly.

The vice chairman was right. In business, there was no such thing as a hundred percent.

Not just in business—where in the world was there a hundred percent certainty about anything?

And yet Another Technology had been so sure of Crazy Bird’s success, as if they’d seen the future.

And the results had proven it.

Kim Hyeoncheol was still hanging his head when Lee Jaeyoung spoke again.

“But, Director Kim.”

“Yes, Vice Chairman.”

“What stood out to me most in that report wasn’t the fact that Crazy Bird succeeded, or the analysis of why it succeeded, or anything like that.”

“Then... what was it that stood out to you?”

Kim Hyeoncheol lifted his head, puzzled.

“The part that said the responsibility for missing that app rested entirely on you, Director Kim.”

“...”

“There wasn’t a single line in that report making excuses about resistance from the working-level staff or a lack of marketing strategy. Even I, who wasn’t even in that meeting, heard that the entire staff opposed it.”

“That was...”

“The story was that you alone in that meeting were the one saying you wanted to bring in Crazy Bird.”

Adjusting his glasses, Lee Jaeyoung smiled gently.

“When I saw that, I thought, ah. I hired the right man.”

“...”

“It isn’t easy to do that, you know. To say everything is your own responsibility.”

Kim Hyeoncheol kept his head bowed.

“Director Kim, you know I like baseball, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

The Seongsam family’s love of baseball was famous.

It wasn’t just that they owned a team; they were often photographed taking their children to the ballpark and cheering them on, and those pictures made the news more often than not.

“There are many reasons I like baseball, but one of the biggest is that the sport itself is built entirely on probability and calculation.”

Lee Jaeyoung’s fingers tapped lightly against the tabletop.

“A batter’s average, a pitcher’s strikeout rate, slugging percentage, the team’s winning percentage at a given stadium... even the winning rate by day of the week. Everything comes out as numbers and indicators. It’s a sport where you can calculate the game as you watch it, and that gives you a sense of stability. It’s similar to running a business.”

“Yes.”

“But in baseball, those probabilities can go completely wrong.”

Lee Jaeyoung’s eyes flashed.

“Sometimes the ace pitcher who dominates the league gives up a comeback home run to a batter who’s been struck out every single time. Sometimes an overwhelming slugger gets embarrassingly struck out on three pitches by a rookie pitcher fresh out of high ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠school. That’s the real charm of baseball.”

“...”

“From the manager to the players to the analysts, everyone can build their strategy perfectly on statistics and experience, and yet that ‘variable’ still appears. I think this case is the same.”

Slurp.

Lee Jaeyoung took another sip of coffee and looked straight at Kim Hyeoncheol.

“Rejecting that game was a reasonable decision, in my view as well. If I’d been there, I don’t think I could have pushed for Crazy Bird, either.”

“...”

“Of course, if we’d approached it with a little more openness—if we’d thought outside the box and decided that games could become one of our strengths—we might have gotten a better result. But you and the others were making the best judgment you could for the success of the Galleon project.”

Kim Hyeoncheol’s eyes widened.

The vice chairman hadn’t called him here to chew him out.

“So don’t look like a man who’s committed some mortal crime. I’d rather you keep that usual confidence, that sharp look in your eyes.”

“...Vice Chairman.”

“To begin with, you were the only one in this company who recognized Another Technology’s value and suggested we bring them in. And you were the one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who actually made it happen. Without you... we’d still be clinging to our own OS and preparing Romnia 2.”

With a smile, Lee Jaeyoung gave Kim Hyeoncheol back his confidence.

“Without you, the Galleon project probably wouldn’t even have gotten off the ground.”

“...”

“So don’t get discouraged just because you struck out this at-bat... no, we’d call it a double play, wouldn’t we? One double play doesn’t matter. Hit a home run next time.”

Kim Hyeoncheol drew in a deep breath.

I thought I didn’t have anyone shielding me... but I did.

He had thought there was nobody to protect him from his mistake, but the highest mountain in the company had been standing there all along.

Realizing he hadn’t known that made the resignation letter in his jacket feel embarrassing.

Kim Hyeoncheol swept a hand through his hair and bowed deeply.

“...Thank you, Vice Chairman.”

No other flourish or excuse was needed.

That one sentence was enough.

“Good.”

With that, Lee Jaeyoung rose and walked back to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his desk.

He tapped the calendar sitting on top of it and asked, “Our Galleon launch date is April 12th... and Apple is expected to start selling in Korea on May 5th, Children’s Day, correct? Is that solid information?”

“Yes. We confirmed it through a source with inside knowledge of Apple’s internal situation. The telecom companies are moving on that schedule, too.”

Lee Jaeyoung nodded.

A gap of about a month. It was an awkward amount of time to enjoy a first-mover advantage.

“Then when the Apple phone comes in May, do you think the current Galleon can stand against it? Judge this coldly—can you really convince new buyers to choose Galleon instead of the Apple phone?”

Kim Hyeoncheol fell silent for a moment.

But then, as if steeling himself, he answered.

“Our specs are far superior, Seongsam’s. CPU speed, camera resolution, storage capacity—we’re ahead in all of them. Design is a matter of taste, I think... but our build quality is in no way inferior. I personally went to the factories several times to verify it. But...”

“But?”

“The problem is the huge number of applications in Apple’s ecosystem. When customers see a game their friend is playing or an app their friend is using and start thinking, ‘I want to do that too,’ then no matter how good our specs are, they’ll end up choosing Apple.”

“In the end, it comes down to the reach of the apps.”

That was the real problem: the power of software, something Seongsam Electronics didn’t have.

“Yes. And to be honest...”

Kim Hyeoncheol swallowed dryly.

“Once the Apple phone arrives, I think Galleon will start losing market share rapidly, beginning with the domestic market.”

“How rapidly?”

“...I estimate that more than 75 percent of new smartphone adopters will drift to the Apple phone.”

Losing 75 percent of new customers.

It was practically the same as surrendering the market whole cloth.

“If that happens, we’ll have to give up Galleon’s ‘premium’ image. We’d need to slash the unit price as hard as possible, shift to a low-cost entry-level smartphone, and survive with a thin-margin, high-volume strategy.”

Lee Jaeyoung closed his eyes and let out a faint sigh.

Being pushed into the low end of the smartphone market...

That was absolutely unacceptable.

It wasn’t just a problem for the smartphone business.

If they lost control of the smartphone market, Seongsam Electronics’ future growth engine itself would be crippled.

They’d lose any dream of breaking into overseas markets, to say nothing of the domestic one.

And if they were forced down into the low end... Seongsam’s status would be shaken.

Its very first-place-ism would disappear.

But instead of getting angry, Lee Jaeyoung nodded.

He was relieved that Kim Hyeoncheol hadn’t tried to feed him comforting hopes, but had instead faced the painful reality and reported it honestly.

“Go on.”

Kim Hyeoncheol continued.

“Yes. No matter how much we advertise Galleon’s hardware advantages, and no matter how many celebrities we use in marketing, there are limits. In the end, what consumers use to choose a smartphone is what they can do with it.”

“...”

“When they see people around them—friends, acquaintances—doing something fun with an Apple phone, they end up wanting to follow along. Just like in Japan, where sales of Apple phones exploded over a single FreeChat emoji, this time Crazy Bird could trigger a similar phenomenon. Even in Japan, Crazy Bird downloads are already climbing sharply, so... Korea won’t be an exception.”

“I see. And right now, Another Technology’s applications are the ones holding that ‘reach’?”

“Yes. Any Apple phone user would be tempted to download and try out the apps Another Technology puts out at least once. And considering they’ve never failed even once so far... even if the next app isn’t a smash hit, the odds are very high that it’ll at least perform respectably.”

Kim Hyeoncheol’s expression darkened.

“The biggest problem is that we don’t know whether Another Technology will release an Android version.”

“Well... honestly, from their perspective, there’d be no reason to release an Android version. There’s no reason to go to the trouble of making an app for Android, which still has only a small user base.”

“Exactly. So even though Another Technology has already launched Crazy Bird on Apple, I was planning to ask them to develop an Android version as well. We were going to offer full support for advertising, too... but...”

“They’re not picking up the phone?”

“...Yes. I have no excuse. I haven’t tried calling yet today, but they were unreachable all through the weekend.”

The homepage of Another Technology publicly boasted that its CEO and executive office worked “365 days, 24 hours a day.”

So the fact that they weren’t answering the phone could only mean deliberate disregard.

They were clearly expressing their displeasure with Seongsam Electronics.

“If they did answer, and we told them we’d support Crazy Bird’s advertising if they’d make an Android version, do you think they’d agree?”

“Honestly... I doubt it would be a very attractive offer to them. After all, the kind of force stronger than any advertisement—word of mouth—is already spreading.”

Lee Jaeyoung silently stared at the computer monitor on his desk.

On the screen was Another Technology’s homepage.

At the center of the main page stood the ugly-cute red bird, Crazy Bird, looking proud and defiant.

Beneath it, the download count was updated in real time.

In just a few hours that morning, downloads had risen by nearly a million.

The rate kept accelerating, like a contagion spreading through the population.

The problem was that this contagion was eating away at Seongsam Electronics alone.

For Apple, its rival, it was a blessing.

...Jobs is really going to like the CEO of Another Technology.

Leaning his head back against the chair’s headrest, Lee Jaeyoung stared up at the ceiling.

Another Technology and Apple apparently have a pretty good relationship. I heard the CEOs even spoke directly and made deals that way.

The timing of this Crazy Bird launch alone said plenty.

Seongsam Electronics had rejected Crazy Bird on Friday, and immediately after that Another Technology turned the game into an Apple version and submitted it for review. By the weekend, the review still apparently hadn’t been approved.

He didn’t know how they’d managed to convert it for Apple so quickly.

And the fact that review had cleared so fast was impossible unless Jobs had applied pressure.

Lee Jaeyoung knew very well how strict Apple’s app review process was.

The CEO of Apple and Another Technology must have spoken directly...

After a brief silence, he spoke.

“Director Kim. Give me Another Technology’s executive office number.”

“...?”

“I’ll call them myself.”

The man at the helm of Seongsam Electronics, Vice Chairman Lee Jaeyoung.

The manager had decided to take the mound himself as the relief pitcher.