Caught completely off guard, CEO Choi Jung-yeol widened his eyes and asked again in disbelief.
"Wh… what did you just say?"
His flustered tone made it clear he was stunned, and Seok-won, smiling calmly, reiterated his proposal.
"I said we're offering you 15% out of the 75% stake we now hold in Interplaza."
"…Surely, you're not joking with me, are you?"
Still struggling to process the offer, CEO Choi looked at him with a baffled expression.
It was natural to be suspicious—receiving such an offer out of the blue would make anyone skeptical.
Seok-won picked up the glass in front of him, took a sip, and looked him straight in the eye.
"I never joke when it comes to money."
Only then did CEO Choi truly realize the proposal was real.
He gulped dryly.
Watching him, Seok-won added, "Of course, there are conditions."
At that, Choi briefly furrowed his brow and showed a flash of the expression that said, "I thought as much."
With Daehung Venture Capital's investment, Interplaza had recently split from Linecom and become an independent legal entity, and its capital had increased significantly to 3 billion won.
Even with a simple calculation, a 15% stake was worth at least 450 million won—it would be unthinkable for someone to just give that away.
Sitting up straight, CEO Choi asked cautiously, "And what are the conditions?"
"When Interplaza was made independent, I understand the original goal set by Linecom was to hit 24 billion won in annual revenue by 2003—six years from now—and go public. Is that correct?"
"That's correct," Choi nodded slightly as he answered.
"Are you familiar with an online shopping mall in the U.S. called Amazon?"
"Of course."
Amazon had started out as an online bookstore and, beginning this year, had been rapidly expanding into music CDs, video tapes, electronics, and even apparel—quickly growing into a full-fledged online marketplace.
It was also one of the very companies CEO Choi had referenced when first building Interplaza, so he knew it all too well.
"They just went public a short while ago and hit the jackpot on the NASDAQ."
"…"
"With a bit of self-congratulation here—I invested before the IPO and now hold a 25% stake in Amazon."
"!"
As he listened, CEO Choi Jung-yeol couldn't hide his astonishment, his eyes widening in shock.
To hear that Seok-won was a major shareholder holding 25% of Amazon—a company that had seen its stock price skyrocket following its NASDAQ IPO, pushing its market cap well beyond $1 billion—was no small surprise.
Yoo Hyun-seok, the division head, was just as stunned.
Unlike Han Ji-sung, who had learned a lot about Seok-won while serving as his aide, this was the first time Yoo was hearing such a revelation. His jaw dropped open.
But Seok-won remained composed, brushing off their stares and speaking with calm assurance.
"I believe that as the internet continues to develop and become more widespread, e-commerce will experience explosive growth. That's why I invested in Amazon before it went public."
Once the initial shock wore off, CEO Choi naturally began to feel a sense of respect toward Seok-won, who shared his own vision.
"I believe Interplaza also has the potential to become a leading player in the domestic e-commerce market, just like Amazon."
"Thank you for the compliment," Choi replied, his expression shy but clearly pleased.
"I'm not saying it just to sound nice—I mean it. That's also why I decided to invest despite the current downturn in the domestic economy. As I said before, I never make careless decisions when it comes to money."
His voice wasn't loud, but every word carried a weight that demanded attention.
Almost involuntarily, Choi felt a kind of pressure—an overwhelming presence—that made him listen closely to Seok-won's words.
"I think the greatest strength of any venture company lies in the founder's passion. But no matter how hard they work to grow the company, if they aren't properly rewarded, their enthusiasm and sense of ownership are bound to fade over time."
Choi hesitated for a moment, then replied while cautiously watching Seok-won's expression.
"Well, we're only human—of course that would happen."
"If I invest in a promising venture and it fails to deliver, despite my expectations, nothing would be more disappointing."
Then, seeing CEO Choi silently focusing on his every word, Seok-won continued.
"That's why I want to give you a strong incentive to keep your passion alive and continue leading the company."
"…Are you referring to the proposal you just mentioned?"
"Yes," Seok-won nodded.
"If Interplaza achieves 30 billion won in annual revenue within six years and successfully goes public, I will grant you the 15% stake as a performance incentive."
Now fully understanding that this wasn't just empty talk, the doubt and caution vanished from CEO Choi's eyes, replaced by a surge of passion.
Even with the target slightly raised, the new goal didn't seem impossibly high.
No—in fact, even if it were an extremely difficult goal, the chance to receive equity that could be worth hundreds of millions as a bonus made it worth achieving by any means necessary.
At a signal from Seok-won, Han Ji-sung, seated beside him, pulled a slim file from his bag and placed it in front of CEO Choi.
"It's always best to put things in writing rather than relying on words."
"…"
"This is the contract that outlines the incentive proposal."
Seok-won leaned back in his chair as he spoke.
"Take it with you, review it thoroughly, and then let me know what you decide."
CEO Choi Jung-yeol stared at the file for a moment before lifting his gaze to look at Seok-won again.
Then, hesitantly, he asked:
"Why are you doing all this for me?"
"As I mentioned before, I believe the passion of the founder is essential to the success of a venture. That's why I'm investing—to help you reach your initial goal of taking the company public."
As he spoke, Seok-won gave a faint smile.
"If the IPO succeeds and the jackpot hits, the return on my investment will multiply. It'll be a win-win for both of us."
"I see."
Choi replied with a smile of his own.
***
October 16, 1997.
Early dawn.
The bedroom was dim, lit only by a single bedside lamp.
Lying alone under the covers in a king-sized bed, Seok-won stirred as his phone rang loudly, cutting through the silence.
When the ringing wouldn't stop, he eventually stretched an arm out from under the blanket and fumbled for the phone on the nightstand.
"Mmm… hello?"
[Boss. It's Landon.Boss.]
Still not fully awake, Seok-won answered the call without opening his eyes, speaking groggily from the bed.
"What's going on at this hour?"
[I'm sorry. I know it's late, but I had to call. Something urgent just happened.]
"What is it?"
[Just now, Moody's downgraded Korea's sovereign credit rating from A2 to A3, and also lowered the won's credit rating from A1 to A2+.]
"!"
Seok-won instantly snapped awake and sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard.
Then, in a low, gravelly voice, he asked:
"They just downgraded the country's credit rating a few days ago when we announced we were going to the IMF—and now they've dropped it again?"
[That's right.]
Still holding the phone to his ear, Seok-won frowned deeply.
Despite the Korean government actively negotiating bailout terms with the IMF in Seoul, international credit agencies had slashed Korea's rating twice in rapid succession.
Even with an IMF bailout, this suggested the market didn't believe Korea's economy would recover anytime soon. It was practically an open warning to foreign investors: pull your money out of Korea now.
"What about S&P and Fitch? How are they moving?"
[The other two agencjes are also expected to follow with additional downgrade soon]
"Ugh… We're doing everything we can just to survive, and the whole world's screaming for us to die."
Seok-won rubbed his forehead and asked,
"Did they say why they downgraded the sovereign credit rating again?"
[Even with IMF bailout funds, the private sector's short-term external debt has exceeded $70 billion, so they believe it's not enough to resolve the currency crisis.]
Hearing that, Seok-won furrowed his brow slightly.
"It hurts more because it's not entirely wrong."
The domestic and international press had been predicting that the bailout package for Korea would be the largest ever provided by the IMF—and this was exactly why.
[As soon as Moody's announcement came out, the won, which had been flat for a few days on the New York forex market, started falling again.]
"Of course it did. This'll definitely weaken the Korean government's position in the IMF negotiations."
[There's not much upside to this situation.]
Seok-won let out a soft sigh and replied.
"Alright. Let me know immediately if any other updates come in."
[Will do.]
After ending the call, Seok-won picked up his wristwatch from the side and checked the time.
It had just passed 4 a.m.
It was too late to go back to sleep, and besides, he doubted he'd be able to doze off again anyway. So instead, he got up and stepped out of the bedroom.
He opened the fridge in the kitchen and poured himself a cold glass of water. Only then did he feel his mind start to clear.
Rolling his neck side to side in a light stretch, Seok-won headed to the trading room he had set up in his home, intending to get a more detailed read on the New York markets.
Had this been in his past life, he could've just pulled out a smartphone and instantly accessed breaking news from halfway around the world. But this was a different era.
A few media companies were just beginning to experiment with internet editions, but they were still in their infancy and updated very slowly.
That's why the fastest way to access financial data was still through a Bloomberg terminal.
With a cup of coffee in hand, he sat down at his desk and turned on the terminal. Real-time stock, bond, and forex data streamed across the screen, along with a flurry of breaking news alerts.
Sure enough, just as Landon had said, the screen was full of negative headlines about Korea—including the latest sovereign credit downgrade.
He let out a low murmur when he saw the won exchange rate had shot back up to the high 1,100-won range.
"Mm…"
His eyes, fixed on the won's exchange rate chart displayed on the monitor, were grim.
"At this rate, the foreign exchange market—and the stock market, too—is going to crash again as soon as the sun comes up."
It was a stark reminder of just how painful the price of losing market confidence could be—and how difficult it was to regain it once lost.
Seok-won stared at the screen in deep thought, then muttered in a low, heavy voice,
"Looks like I'll need to meet with Vice Prime Minister Choi Jin-woo sooner than I expected."
If things continued like this, the Korean government would end up surrendering everything the IMF demanded in exchange for bailout funds. He needed to step in first and shift the momentum in a more favorable direction.