Chapter 383
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Toward the Throne
The world's third superpower, the Soviet Union, had exited stage left, returning the global order to a bipolar standoff reminiscent of the past.
“Blue corner, the white champion—the United States, reigning as the world's economic number one since the late 19th century.”
“Red corner, the yellow champion from Asia's backwater—Korea.”
Now it was time for the two remaining superpowers on stage to fight for the throne.
On the surface, the United States held the advantage, but Korea dominated in technology and information—the keys to tomorrow's sustenance.
“Brains over brawn. We're smarter than the Yankees.”
Korea was primed to compete with the United States on the strength of these advantages.
‘But to maximize them, we need liberalization and democratization. That's the catch.’
To address this, Baek Sung-jun adopted a “partial liberalization model” inspired by Hu Jintao, leader of China's Communist Youth League.
“Be lenient with anything that doesn't criticize the state or the system.”
To demonstrate this policy, President Lee Seok-gyun even appeared personally on PC communications.
He popped into a gathering of users in their twenties.
“Hello, young friends.”
People were puzzled by Lee Seok-gyun's greeting, which reeked of an old man's speech patterns.
“Uh? Who is this?”
“How's everyone doing these days? No trouble buying meals?”
His out-of-left-field question drew sharp reactions.
“Who are you? Why are you asking that?”
“Study hard and become good workers.”
Only later, when they learned the interlocutor was the president, did people hurriedly post comments.
“Sorry, Your Excellency. We didn't recognize you.”
Lee Seok-gyun occasionally wandered PC communications like this.
“Doesn't the president have anything better to do?”
There were such responses, but most nodded along to the presidential office's explanation that he was listening to the “people's” voice through the latest infrastructure.
“The Korean government cares so much about this world that even the president uses PC communications.”
Once word spread that Lee Seok-gyun was actually using it, interest in PC communications doubled.
“I want to install a dedicated phone line at home.”
“You'll need to spend at least 50 won on the line installation.”
Korea's information and communications infrastructure exploded throughout the 1980s in this manner.
Lee Seok-gyun's PC communications use added even more fuel to the fire.
“The virtual world that even His Excellency the President is hooked on. Join the wider world.”
The number of companies providing PC communications services grew to over ten.
Companies like Youngrian, Itel, and Ngooguri slashed phone rates competitively to draw in users.
This expansion of information infrastructure created a wealth of jobs for engineering graduates in the 1980s.
“The answer is IT. No recession there at all.”
Even when other fields offered only a couple of choices, IT had ten or more.
Computer fields, in particular, were short on talent.
Not just PC communications—mail, games, and various other companies fought over computer science grads.
With demand surging, universities massively expanded their computer science enrollment quotas.
Pyongyang National University, a top-tier school, had incoming freshman spots reaching 800.
“That's insane.”
Of course, not all graduates chose employment.
Many took government startup grants and launched their own companies.
“We could hit it big.”
This process spawned a wave of software firms handling operating systems and the like.
They raked in huge revenues with policy support from the government.
“Not just government and institutions—even Third World countries are using our OS. How great is that.”
It was like shooting fish in a barrel, but the Korean government didn't coddle them entirely.
“You have to outperform competitors like MS. Remember, support can vanish anytime!”
Korean companies used the massive market the government provided as a launchpad and grew rapidly.
‘Korea and Computers’ was one such example, pushed into megacorp status by this kind of backing.
With IT stocks booming like this, even jittery Korean investors snapped them up without hesitation.
“IT looks a bit bubbly?”
The Korean government was aware but chose not to intervene.
“Some bubble is fine to experience once.”
Its Soviet economic stakes and IT growth.
Korea used these new engines to surge again in the mid-1980s.
The world could see Korean companies' overwhelming dominance with its own eyes.
“378 of Forbes' top 500 companies are Korean.”
Narrow it to the top 50, and it was worse.
41 of the top 50.
Korea was running away with it.
Beyond even its pre-crash glory.
No wonder whispers in the White House claimed they'd toppled the Soviets only to boost Korea more.
“We can't hesitate any longer.”
Finally, the United States signed an economic alliance with Canada and the UK, launching the ACU alliance.
The ACU was a massive economic bloc, essentially stage one of the Anglo-Saxon Economic Union.
With the ACU's launch, the United States—at least—secured a weight class equal to EA.
“Next up: Australia, New Zealand, Ireland.”
The United States aimed to forge an economic alliance surpassing EA by uniting the English-speaking world.
“We need to solidify the Western bloc too.”
It also poured effort into mending ties with the First World alliance.
“Should we let Korea monopolize everything?”
Europe, already losing market share to Korean goods advanced even into the Soviet sphere, felt the need to join hands with America.
Accordingly, negotiations opened for an FTA between the EC and ACU.
Pyongyang had no intention of sitting idle amid the West's moves.
“We need to lock down the Second World countries for good.”
As a countermeasure, Korea ramped up Second World diplomacy.
Foreign Minister, Deputy Prime Minister for Economy, Prime Minister, National Assembly Speaker—a parade of top officials toured Eastern Europe, rubbing shoulders with Second World leaders.
This silent competition between the two sides extended to intelligence as well.
“Wiretapping and surveillance? That's outdated. Right?”
Both nations honed “hacking” skills suited to the new era.
They poured resources into finding backdoors in software.
“Hiring tens of thousands of mathematicians just to do that?”
“Yeah.”
If it meant striking the opponent's weaknesses, they'd do worse.
As hacking advanced, the importance of security tech to block those lances rose too.
Intelligence agencies like Korea's Intelligence Command and the NSA stalked every chance to infiltrate each other's corporate and national networks.
In this contest, the United States held the relative edge.
Simple reason.
“Koreans have more advanced comms infrastructure, so more spots to poke.”
Baek Sung-jun didn't sweat the vulnerability of having so many targets.
“That's not a weakness—it's proof we've advanced. Let 'em poke if they want.”
Korea accelerated its information and communications infrastructure buildup.
Dial-up modems emerged right on cue, turbocharging the expansion.
“With infrastructure growing, we need more computers too.”
Baek Sung-jun ordered personal computer prices below 1,000 won.
“Pardon? That cheap?”
Not easy, but he trusted Korea's advanced electronics industry and the “persuasiveness of power.”
“You can do it, right, Sesung?”
“It's not that simple.”
“Look, I'm not asking blindly. We'll bulk-order from schools and government offices first.”
“Now that's different.”
Korea's industry, armed with economies of scale, soon churned out “affordable” PCs.
Minimal margins earned Sesung's model the nickname “1,000-won computer.”
“Wow, cheap.”
To Koreans, 1,000 won (about $1,500) wasn't pricey.
With per capita GDP at $36,000, it was an impulse buy if they wanted.
“Should I get one?”
The Baek regime encouraged PC adoption with policy too.
“Tax breaks would help.”
Backed by government support, PCs became impossible to find in stock.
This sparked a boom in scalpers at Daesungsan Electronics Market.
“Damn scalpers. Selling 1,000-won computers for 4,000? Ridiculous?”
The scalping issue soon reached the Korean government's ears.
Police launched a massive crackdown.
“How much for this computer?”
The scalper, oblivious to the sting, grinned.
“How high you looking to go?”
“Nab him.”
The scalper's predatory grin lasted less than a second.
By arresting and making examples of resellers, Korea disciplined its electronics retailers.
Barring such hiccups, PC rollout proceeded smoothly.
By just before the '88 Tokyo Olympics, penetration hit 36%.
Three times the United States' simultaneous 12%.
“Factor in America's population being over twice ours, and our sheer numbers match theirs.”
Baek Sung-jun wasn't satisfied with Korea's overwhelming PC penetration.
He wanted better.
‘We can't settle for what America can catch up to. We need to pull way ahead.’
That way, Korea monopolizes the future.
For that sweet victory tomorrow, Baek Sung-jun floored the accelerator toward it.