"I'm planning to invest 10 billion won in SM Entertainment," Luke announced.
"Whoa!"
The amount left Lee Soo-man both thrilled and conflicted.
Ten billion won—roughly 50 million RMB, or about 6 million USD—could instantly shore up SM Entertainment's cash flow.
But at what cost? How many shares would he have to give up?
And after giving up those shares, would he still have control over the company?
These thoughts raced through Lee Soo-man's mind.
"Mr. Luke, I…" Lee Soo-man opened his mouth, but words failed him.
"No need to rush, Mr. Lee. Let me finish," Luke said, raising a hand to calm him. "For 10 billion won, I'm only asking for 20% of SM's shares."
"What?" Lee Soo-man was floored.
Twenty percent was already the absolute max he was willing to part with. He'd hoped to secure maybe 6 billion won for that stake, but Luke was offering 10 billion—nearly double his expectations.
Was this the kind of cash flow only a tycoon from the States could throw around?
Ten billion won, or about 6 million USD, was pocket change for Luke. But he wasn't here to play charity. If 6 billion won could've sealed the deal, he wouldn't have gone as high as 10. Naturally, there were strings attached.
"There's a premium in this price," Luke continued, "so I have some additional conditions."
Hearing this, Lee Soo-man actually felt relieved. "Please, go ahead and name them."
"Two conditions," Luke said. "First, I want full control over the overseas operations for all of SM's idols."
"Overseas operations?" Lee Soo-man hesitated, unsure how to gauge the request.
K-pop hadn't yet taken off globally, so handing over overseas rights didn't immediately seem like a big deal—or a steal. He wasn't sure how to respond.
Luke had already read him like a book.
Here's the thing: if a deal screws over your partner too badly, they'll find ways to wiggle out of it eventually. Banking on an information gap to lock someone into a bad contract? That's a fantasy—it just doesn't work in the real world.
So Luke laid it out. "I'll set up a management agency in Korea. All of SM's idol overseas activities will be handled through this agency, and SM will get 10% of its shares."
A cross-shareholding plan—one that tied their interests tightly together, so both sides would rise or fall as one.
Lee Soo-man's eyes lit up. "That sounds pretty fair."
Luke pressed on. "You know I've got solid connections in North America, mainland China, and Japan. Hand over SM's overseas operations to me, and I guarantee it'll create more value for the company."
Step two: paint a big, shiny picture.
But Luke wasn't just blowing smoke. Those three markets—North America, China, and Japan—would become K-pop's biggest overseas goldmines in the future. Letting him handle them would be way better than SM fumbling the ball on its own.
In his past life, SM had outsourced its Japan distribution to Avex Music, and it worked out well for a while. But when Avex changed leadership, the partnership weakened, and the business tanked.
Partnering with Luke? That was a way better bet than Avex.
His intentions were crystal clear: I don't need a ton of SM's shares—just 20% is fine. I'm not here to mess with your control over the company.
But the overseas business? That's mine. And when overseas revenue starts dwarfing Korea's domestic market, it won't matter who technically controls SM.
When someone's got your income stream by the throat, you don't exactly have room to push back.
It was a calculated move, but Lee Soo-man happily took the bait.
After all, if the new agency ended up dominating, he'd be raking it in. Why fight that? Why not just kick back and enjoy the ride? Plus, SM would own 10% of the new agency—they were in this together!
Lee Soo-man grinned. "I'm good with that. What's the second condition?"
Luke replied, "I want SM to put more focus on scouting and supporting trainees. Give them more resources."
"Huh?"
This one caught Lee Soo-man off guard.
Korea's domestic entertainment market was tiny, forcing companies like SM to look overseas. Adding foreign members to groups was a cost-effective way to break into new markets.
In the future, K-pop groups would prioritize trainees from a few key countries:
- China: With its massive population and booming economy, it was the future members were practically a must.
- Japan: The second-largest cultural consumption market. A Japanese member could skyrocket album sales and concert revenue abroad.
- Thailand: Once the mobile internet era hit, Thailand's obsessive YouTube streaming made Thai members a data goldmine.
- Korean-Americans: Aimed at cracking the U.S. market, though no group ever really cashed in on that.
SM already had plans to scout trainees every year, so to Lee Soo-man, this barely counted as a condition. Was it even worth Luke mentioning?
"Can you be more specific, Mr. Luke? What exactly are you looking for?" Lee Soo-man asked.
"I won't meddle too much," Luke said vaguely. "I just need some seeds."
Lee Soo-man got it instantly. Luke wanted to use SM's star-making machine to cultivate talent that could help him dominate back in China.
He didn't want SM favoring Korean trainees with the best resources, leaving rainees sidelined with fewer opportunities, worse contracts, or the grunt work.
That kind of thing was all too common in Korea—less screen time for artists, sticking them in the back during performances, harsher contract terms, or piling on the toughest jobs.
For Lee Soo-man, this was no big deal. Idols were already squeezed hard enough—easing up a bit wouldn't dent profits.
He extended his hand with a smile. "Mr. Luke, pleasure doing business."
Luke shook it, grinning back. "Mr. Lee, I'm confident this deal will leave you satisfied."
Lee Soo-man's smile was a bit forced, but deep down, he was genuinely pleased.
Luke knew he'd struck gold with this investment. SM was cash-strapped now, and the future looked uncertain, but next year, they'd launch the boy group TVXQ, and it'd be an instant hit.
TVXQ wouldn't just dominate Korea—they'd conquer Japan, becoming the most successful Korean boy group there ever. No one would replicate their Japan success later on.
If SM could just hold out until next year, Luke's investment wouldn't even be that critical. Jumping in now? He was getting a steal.
As they left the meeting room, Lee Soo-man walked Luke toward the exit.
At a corner, a small figure bumped into him.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" The young girl bowed repeatedly, apologizing.
"Don't you watch where you're going?" Lee Soo-man snapped.
"I'm sorry, I'm here for a trainee audition today," she mumbled, head down, too nervous to look up.
Luke glanced at her. "You're Yoona, right?"
"Huh? Luke oppa? You know me?"
"I saw you at the fan meet at the airport a couple days ago," Luke said with a smile.
"Oh my gosh, I can't believe you remembered me!"
Luke gave her a friendly nod before saying goodbye.
As they walked, he turned to Lee Soo-man. "Mr. Lee, she's got potential. You might want to keep an eye on her."
Luke didn't mind giving Yoona a little boost. After all, she'd go on to be the face of an entire girl group—helping her was helping himself.
Lee Soo-man wasn't sure why Luke was vouching for a nobody, but he nodded. "Got it, Mr. Luke."
After leaving SM, Luke hopped into the car Samsung Group had arranged and headed for the airport.
He'd thought about swinging by Chungmuro, Korea's version of Hollywood, or giving a talk at Seoul National University for their top students.
But he scrapped those plans.
Time was getting tight, and he was in a rush.
Back in New York, a mountain of work was waiting for him.
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