Chapter 5. They Made Technology in Korea That’s Five Years Ahead of America?>
Chapter 5. They Made Technology in Korea That’s Five Years Ahead of America?>
CIA Headquarters, United States. Emergency Response Conference Room.
“What did we find out about the force behind the new drones Russia is operating?”
CIA Deputy Director Samuel Huntington asked, staring intently at the beam projector screen.
“We uncovered an unexpected fact that no one saw coming.”
Victoria Chase, the head of the Technical Operations Division and the one in charge of the briefing, answered in a grave voice.
“The developer of those monstrous drones… is Korean.”
“Korea? That explains it. We tore through Russian tech firms and universities like a pack of hunting dogs and still found nothing…”
The CIA had firmly assumed all along that such overwhelming AI capability had to be the result of either a Russian state-run project or the joint work of some hidden cadre of genius professors.
“However, Deputy Director, the identity of this developer is what makes it interesting.”
Click.
When Victoria pressed the presenter button, the screen changed to a huge image of a youthful East Asian boy’s face.
“Name: Ryu Hyesung. Age: 18. At present, he is an ordinary third-year high school student in the Republic of Korea.”
“…What?”
Samuel Huntington’s brow furrowed sharply.
“You’re telling me that this overtechnology—the same overtechnology MIT professors evaluated as ‘at least five years ahead of America’s military AI capabilities’—was made by a Korean high school student?”
(Translator’s Note: MIT — The Massachusetts Institute of Technology, a private research university in Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States. It was founded in 1861 and is globally known for engineering, science, and technology research.)
“Yes. And it appears he developed it ‘alone,’ not in some massive research facility.”
“Hah…”
Unable to hide his shock, the Deputy Director leaned deeply back into his chair, his mouth hanging open.
The information was so far beyond common sense that, for a moment, he had no words.
“So then, what are the Russians doing?”
“They have not made any overt moves yet, but given their nature, it is highly likely they will take some kind of action soon.”
Samuel Huntington’s gaze turned fierce in an instant.
“Contact the Korea branch immediately. Put Target Ryu Hyesung and the Russian agents under close twenty-four-hour surveillance. Watch their every move!”
“Yes, sir!”
That day, America confirmed the existence of a genius named Ryu Hyesung.
The CIA, the world’s greatest intelligence agency, began moving at full throttle once again.
During a peaceful class period at Jinseong High School.
“Did you know that ninety percent of startups in this country fail?”
Our Korean history teacher, who was always deeply concerned about the nation’s future, was giving a passionate lecture from the podium.
“If you don’t build up your grades now, the best you’ll manage later is getting hired by one of those startups.”
The students listened with half an ear, if that.
It was not going to be on the CSAT anyway.
(Translator’s Note: CSAT / Suneung — South Korea’s national college entrance examination, officially the College Scholastic Ability Test. It was first administered in 1993 and is one of the most important standardized exams in the Korean education system.)
Ding-dong-deng-dong.
Right on cue, the bell marking the end of class rang.
The students all began cleaning up their desks and packing their bags.
“All right, anyway, study hard and get into a good major corporation.”
The impassioned speech from the teacher so worried about the country ended, in the end, with the conclusion of ‘study hard.’
After class ended, we went straight back to our hideout—the container.
There, the most beautiful part-time employee in the world had already arrived before us.
She was silently assembling small components.
“What, why are you here so late?”
“I was on class duty today. How far did the work get?”
“I already finished today’s quota.”
Ian’s hands were unbelievably fast.
Work that took Taeju and me two whole days of struggling, she finished in a single day.
We divided the drone assembly among ourselves according to the part each of us was best at.
It was, in its own way, a fairly systematic division-of-labor setup.
“At this rate, I think we can finish all 150 within five days.”
Looking at the progress, that seemed more than possible.
“Hyesung. I exchanged a few messages with the buyer earlier, and I think we need to pay attention to the packaging too.”
Taeju said that with a serious expression.
“Packaging?”
“Yeah, the box packaging. Even if it’s still just a toy, it costs 500,000 won. Opening it should feel satisfying. We can’t just wrap it in bubble wrap and chuck the item at them.”
“That’s true… for toys, the experience of opening the box really is half the point.”
“So I was thinking, let’s use a thick black box with just our brand logo printed on it.”
“Will something that simple really be enough?”
“Wouldn’t that have more style? You know, that sense of pressure simplicity gives off.”
At that moment, I understood immediately what Taeju was getting at.
That was right. The really expensive stuff often came in ridiculously simple packaging.
“Okay. Then the COO can take care of that matter.”
“Understood, CEO.”
“Give me a title too.”
That was Ian.
Even while her hands kept moving nonstop, it seemed she was a little envious of the titles we were calling each other.
“How about ITN.”
Taeju still had not broken out of executive roleplay mode.
“What’s that supposed to be?”
“Intern.”
“What the hell.”
Ian gave a short laugh, sounding dumbfounded.
“But how did you end up coming here to work part-time anyway?”
From what I remembered, I had heard she had received multiple casting offers from major agencies.
“Because it was close to home. And I needed spending money.”
“Weren’t you supposed to become an idol? I heard rumors you joined an agency.”
“I have no idea why those rumors keep spreading, but it’s true I got offers. I turned them all down. My parents were strongly against it, and I wasn’t that interested either.”
Just then, a thought flashed through my head.
I had no idea why, but it did.
“Ian. I’m going to make our company the best in the world.”
“…”
At the sudden seriousness in my tone, Ian stopped too, her hands halting over the parts she had been assembling.
“Keep working at our company. I’ll make sure you earn way more money than a celebrity.”
“Puhaha. You crazy bastard.”
Taeju, who had been listening quietly from the side, finally burst out laughing.
“Hey, why? Does it sound too unrealistic?”
“No, that’s not it! It’s just—why did you suddenly say it like you were making a confession… Ah, my stomach. At least say stuff like that when I’m not here, you lunatic.”
“Huh? No, that’s not what I meant. I’m serious…”
“…”
Ian lowered her head slightly and said nothing.
Five days later.
We had finished assembling all 150 drones.
We had even completed the ‘simple yet stylish’ black packaging that had been Taeju’s idea.
The buyer contacted us and said he would come collect the goods in person.
Taeju and I waited for him inside the container, still full of traces of assembly work.
“So what kind of guy is this buyer, anyway, if he’s personally buying 150 toys all by himself?”
At my question, Taeju answered like he was not sure either.
“No idea. At first I thought it was a retail shop, but from the way he talks, I think it’s some Japanese trading company.”
A little while later, a truck came gliding to a stop in front of the container.
“Are you Choi Taeju?”
The Korean was oddly accented.
He really was Japanese.
“I came to pick up the drones.”
Without quite concealing his distinctly Japanese accent, he spoke in Korean.
Together with him, we diligently carried the 150 boxes into the truck bed.
But there was something about this man’s movements that was far too clean and mechanical.
For a mere merchant buying and reselling goods, the precision of his movements was unusual.
“Taeju, but what about the money?”
“It already came into our corporate account this morning.”
Once we had loaded all 150 units into the truck, the man in the cap pulled low over his head glanced at me and asked, “By any chance, who is the main developer of these drones?”
“Ah, that’s me.”
“If it would not be too much trouble, could I have your phone number? In case there are any A/S issues or technical inquiries.”
(Translator’s Note: A/S — Korean shorthand for after-sales service, meaning repair support or customer service after purchase. It is widely used in Korean consumer and business contexts and derives from the English phrase “after service.”)
“Ah, sure. My number is 010-…”
Without much suspicion, I gave him my phone number.
Well, if something broke, I really was the only person in the world who could fix it.
The man gave us a polite bow, then drove away in the truck.
“Whew… it’s finally all over.”
Taeju let out a deep sigh and dropped into a plastic chair.
“Damn, seriously… I should check the account.”
I also opened the banking app on my phone and logged into Science Facility’s corporate account.
[Deposit: 75,000,000 won]
“Holy shit… all the suffering just disappeared.”
It was perfect financial therapy.
My back, which had felt like it was going to snap from assembling day and night, and my stiff neck both seemed to recover as if by magic.
“Seventy-five million won is about a year’s salary for an employee at a decent major corporation.”
Taeju gave a hollow little laugh, then quickly turned serious.
“Hey, Hyesung. Should we seriously try exporting overseas now?”
“Exporting?”
“Yeah! Let’s rake in foreign currency while we’re at it. Dollars!”
“Sounds good. It has style.”
A company that exported overseas would have much higher value than one that only made money domestically.
From the look of it, Russia and Japan both seemed pretty interested in our products.
Wasn’t it worth trying?
It was several weeks after we sold the 150 drones.
“All right, midterms aren’t far off, so make sure you prepare your grades properly. Got it? Hyesung, I’m talking to you.”
“Puhahahahaha.”
The teacher, who had been lecturing the class, suddenly singled me out.
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders too, so if you’d just raise your grades a little, you’d be just right… Anyway, get ready for the next class.”
Midterms were right around the corner.
Because of those 150 drones, studying had been completely shoved aside.
At this rate, I really might turn into someone who had no chance of ever making it to college.
“Ah, shit. I wish there were some way to just hammer Korean and English straight into my brain.”
That was when it happened.
Bzzzzzz.
My phone rang in my pocket from an unknown number.
“Hello.”
“President of Science Facility?”
The Korean pronunciation was slightly awkward.
It was the Japanese buyer who had bought all 150 drones a few days ago.
“Ah, yes. Hello. What is it?”
“There seems to be a problem with the drones. Would it be possible for you to come take a look?”
Hm? Normally, for A/S, wasn’t it common sense to send the product back to us?
“That’s possible. Where should I go?”
“Tokyo.”
“Ah, Tokyo… Yes? What did you say? Where?”
“Setagaya, Tokyo. We will cover your airfare and hotel accommodations in full, President.”
(Translator’s Note: Setagaya — One of Tokyo’s 23 special wards in Japan. It is a major residential and administrative district within the Tokyo metropolitan area.)
“…What? Why?”
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
Seeing my dumbfounded expression, Taeju asked with a worried look.
I quickly covered the microphone on my phone and whispered,
“No, they’re asking me to come all the way to Tokyo for A/S.”
“What? Holy shit. What kind of insane pain-in-the-ass customer is this?”
Leaving Taeju’s perfectly timed cursing behind, I spoke into the phone again.
“Ah… well, going all the way to Tokyo personally would be a little diffi—”
“Is that perhaps your friend? We can also arrange your friend’s plane ticket and hotel in full.”
I covered the microphone again and looked at Taeju.
“Hey, they said they’ll pay for our airfare and hotel too.”
“What? Then should we go?”
Right before midterms, we somehow ended up choosing a trip to Japan.
At Taeju’s one-second change in posture, I swallowed a dry laugh and spoke into the receiver again.
“Ah, then how should we set the schedule?”
“When are you available?”
“Well, shouldn’t we check the flight times first? We’d have to match your schedule.”
“Would today be possible, President? Tomorrow is the weekend, so would that not be convenient?”
…Why the hell was this Japanese guy so aggressive?
Had all 150 drones been destroyed and thrown everything into chaos?
But what he said next was even more shocking.
“We have prepared everything. We will come to escort you, President.”