Chapter 74: A New Frontier
Chapter 74: A New Frontier
I never underestimated the challenges of business.
Every time I ventured into a new field, I always wondered if it would succeed.
But the business division meeting at Earth Resource was a string of pleasant surprises.
“Cloud division revenue is up 170% from last month.”
It was the era of non-contact due to COVID-19.
As internet companies continued to thrive, the money flowing in from the cloud had increased enormously.
“The shopping mall division’s sales have increased by 89% compared to last week.”
The shopping mall was also greatly benefiting from the non-contact trend.
The Source Coins distributed through promotions were consistently proving effective.
“The daily transaction fees from the coin exchange have surpassed 7.5 million dollars.”
The exchange, created to support Source Coin trading, was on a rampage, raking in massive amounts of cash.
Earth Resource’s first venture, the computation division, remained a steady cash cow, but the growth rate of the other business divisions was insane, to say the least.
‘With all these divisions doing so well, it should be fine even if we run a deficit for two or three years after entering the broadcast platform market.’
A broadcast platform requires massive initial investment to become competitive, so losses are hard to avoid in the beginning.
The question was when it would turn a profit, but things were different now compared to when I had just founded Earth Resource and was supporting Biolife.
‘I have more than enough leeway to invest and wait.’
In addition to the money earned from corporate activities, my personal wealth was constantly growing thanks to the booming New York stock market.
If the cloud was one wing for Earth Resource, what role would the broadcast platform play?
At the business division meeting.
I spoke before Vice President Oh Myeong-woo, Eddie from the computation and cloud divisions, and Allison from the shopping mall division.
Staff from the finance and support teams were also present.
“We are officially planning to enter the broadcast platform market.”
“Excuse me?”
“Broadcasting?”
With the exception of Eddie, who had been eager to get into broadcasting, everyone reacted with surprise.
The employees from the finance and support teams looked completely dumbfounded.
“We will use Earth Resource’s cloud system to launch a video and broadcast content division.”
It was a business plan that combined the models of Netflix and YouTube.
I had scheduled the division meeting to last until evening, expecting a heated debate with opinions split between for and against.
This market was full of formidable competitors, and catching up as a latecomer would not be easy.
There were bound to be many realistic obstacles.
“I’m all for it. Thank you, really!”
Eddie, from the computation and cloud divisions, voiced his approval.
“Sounds fun. If others can do it, we can do it better.”
Oh Myeong-woo agreed.
I turned my gaze to Allison, the head of the shopping mall division. He was a cautious and meticulous person, so he could very well express opposition.
I was prepared to persuade the division heads if they were against it.
“Interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Yes. Has any business you started ever failed, sir? I believe you’ve begun this with sufficient foresight.”
“...”
To be honest, I’d only considered it because of Eddie’s suggestion.
But to get this kind of approval.
Earth Resource was a blue-chip company with no debt, and it was piling up cash every day.
And what about my personal investments in the New York stock market?
The endless rise of stock prices.
We had more than enough capacity to pioneer a new business, and our members were brimming with confidence.
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
* * *
Lee Jong-yeop didn’t say a single word during the meeting.
Watching the conversation between Kim Shin and the division heads, he felt something hot surging in his chest.
‘Yes. This is why I left Arcor.’
He had boarded a plane to follow a dream rather than a stable salary.
Of course, since Kim Shin had willingly taken him in, his salary was now incomparable to his Arcor days.
“The CEO is truly brilliant.”
“The broadcast platform business is a bit different from what we’ve done so far.”
“Yeah. So it should be exciting to see how he handles it, don't you think?”
Even the employees leaving the meeting were full of positivity.
It was a world away from his days at Arcor, killing time and making rounds at hospitals to cater to doctors’ moods.
* * *
I decided to lead the broadcast platform project myself.
Even if Eddie and the programmers handled the technical side, the business and promotional aspects were paramount.
For now, I decided to start by giving a gift to my friend who had been performing at over 300% of his capacity.
“Myeong-woo.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll grant you one wish.”
“What is it? Don’t tell me… Really? You’re kidding, right?”
“That’s right.”
The creation of a League of Legends pro gaming team.
It was one of Oh Myeong-woo’s greatest wishes recently.
Until now, Earth Resource’s divisions had no need to operate a gaming team, but to break into the broadcast platform market, having our own team for promotional purposes would be beneficial.
It was just as OnGameNet and MBC Game had maintained their own teams when StarCraft was at the peak of its popularity.
“How are we going to do it? How do we recruit the players?”
“We’ll have to start looking into that now.”
I knew next to nothing about pro gaming teams.
Even though I used to watch game broadcasts while working at the convenience store and attending college, I didn’t know the inner workings.
‘Just throwing money at it won’t guarantee success.’
If it were soccer or baseball, we would have to acquire an existing club, but creating a new gaming team and entering the league isn't that difficult.
‘A team that plays exciting games, has good chemistry among the players, and possesses overwhelming skill. That’s the goal.’
I figured the first step to creating a team in Korea would be to hire a general manager.
Jeong Beom-tae, the Vice President of Dream Art Rainbow, already had too much on his plate.
There weren’t many other people I could entrust with the job.
- Kim Shin: Mirae Motors Group sponsors sports, right?
- Jin Yoo-kyung: Yes. But is that the first thing you ask after not contacting me for so long?
My conversations with the workaholic Ellie were usually all business.
- Kim Shin: How do you select a general manager for a sports team?
- Jin Yoo-kyung: It’s usually someone who lost a power struggle within the group.
- Kim Shin: What?
- Jin Yoo-kyung: Or, in cases where someone has worked hard for the company but has to retire. They send director-level executives and above to be general managers for two or three years as a final courtesy.
- Kim Shin: ...
Is this the ruthless world of business?
I had watched pro gaming teams, but I don’t think I ever gave a thought to who the general manager was.
* * *
Vice President Jeong Beom-tae had worked at Indream Investments for twelve years.
During his time in the film industry, he had emptied countless soju glasses mixed with tears.
“That project got funding from another company? No. Our company discovered the script and look at all the effort we’ve put in until now. Director Kang!”
There were times when he had everything set up for a film's production—the director, staff, and even the cast—only to have the project snatched away by a larger investment firm after investment talks were already underway.
“Kang Se-ra signed on for another movie?”
The departure of the lead actress.
A project he had spent six months on was scrapped because the actress's star power was crucial.
“Director. Please, let’s stop with the additional shoots.”
A director who caught the ‘artist bug’ would continue with second and third reshoots, causing production costs to skyrocket.
A film had to overcome countless hurdles, from the scriptwriting stage, to funding, casting, and pre-production by the crew.
Since Indream was a small investment firm, it couldn't even dream of blockbuster films with production costs exceeding 10 billion won, so it clung to films that could be made on a smaller budget.
The joy of seeing a film hit the big screen was indescribable, but even then, the final hurdle of the distributors’ power plays remained.
Even if they managed to secure a release date, avoiding the blockbusters that monopolized the screens.
They would get cut in line or pushed aside by films the distributors themselves had invested in.
Barely turning a profit was rewarded with little more than a bowl of sundae-guk and a glass of soju.
“We have a completed script. We’d like to receive an investment from Dream Art Rainbow.”
“Director Kang Ho’s film, at our production company?”
“Yes. Would you be willing to come in as the main investor?”
Vice President Jeong Beom-tae of Dream Art Rainbow had worn out several pairs of shoes working in Chungmuro, but this was the first time he had ever been treated this way.
CEOs of production companies who had once looked down on Indream were now visiting him to pitch their projects.
Even considering that the film industry’s funds had dried up in the age of COVID-19, the very fact that a project received Kim Shin’s investment was enough to become a hot topic among the public.
“Infinite Challenge?”
“Yes. There are several tricky requirements, but…”
“We should definitely recruit a star PD like that.”
“We don’t know his track record since he went independent.”
“What he’s done until now is proof enough. I also heard that the CEO is a fan of that show.”
“Ah, the CEO. Then we absolutely must bring him in.”
Famous PDs from the broadcasting world began to transfer over.
He assembled staff and cast members for them.
Just as they had rented a large studio and started filming several programs.
Jeong Beom-tae’s days were a continuous series of meetings with actors, PDs, and directors.
“Vice President Jeong. Are you busy right now?”
“Yes, sir. I’m available to talk.”
A call came from Kim Shin, who was in Silicon Valley but was the company’s representative in name.
In the Vice President’s office at Dream Art Rainbow.
The two PDs and the entertainer who had been in a heated discussion about the next project froze on the spot.
In Korea, even the most successful celebrities could only feel envy toward Kim Shin’s fame and fortune.
“I have something to ask. Besides the content you’re producing directly, how much has been invested in other companies?”
“It’s about 72.8 billion won right now.”
As Korean broadcast content gained popularity overseas, the scale of film and drama production had grown compared to the past.
With some movies costing 20 billion won to produce, becoming the main investor and shouldering 30% required a whopping 6 billion won.
Vice President Jeong Beom-tae swallowed nervously.
“I’ve spent too much on investments in a short period, haven’t I? That’s because of the cost of acquiring the production companies. I will work hard to separate the wheat from the chaff and select only projects that can succeed.”
“Hmm.”
“Starting next year, when the invested content hits the market, my goal is to turn a profit, however small. If I fail to meet that goal, I am prepared to submit my resignation at any time.”
Jeong Beom-tae spoke into the phone with grim determination.
At Indream Investments, every time a film ran a small deficit, he would be branded as incompetent by the CEO and receive a torrent of abuse.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve worked hard so far, but I’d like you to invest even more. You need to spend about five times the amount you’ve already invested.”
“Ah, yes.”
Five times would be over 350 billion won.
As Vice President Jeong Beom-tae replied, wondering if he had miscalculated.
“It costs about 15 billion won to produce a movie these days, right?”
“That’s the case for mid-to-large-scale films. The labor costs for staff have come down quite a bit, though.”
“Korean films, variety shows, and dramas. There must be many people on break because of COVID-19. Please start production aggressively. I will deposit an additional 400 billion won into Dream Art Rainbow’s capital today.”
“400 billion won? Today?”
Wasn’t 400 billion won a sum large enough to create a storm in the Korean content industry?
Of course, he wasn’t saying to spend all the company’s capital in one or two years, but it sounded like he was telling him not to miss a single good opportunity.
“Yes. That also means you should invest in the rights of completed projects that can’t find a release due to COVID-19. Earth Resource will soon be creating its own broadcast platform.”
“A broadcast platform…”
“We will create a detailed business plan on our end and send it to you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You must be busy, but please take care of your family and don’t overwork yourself.”
“It’s an honor to receive your call, sir.”
After hanging up, Jeong Beom-tae leaned back on the sofa.
An incredible amount of information had been exchanged in that short call, and his mind was reeling.
400 billion won.
A broadcast platform.
These were words of an immense scale.