Park Minho's success at the Busan Industry Summit was a spark, not a blaze. His chip speech and Industry 4.0 tease had stirred Korea's imagination, but Hansung Technology remained a niche name, far from the household brand he envisioned. To make Hansung's Labor Edition 2 a national icon, Minho needed the summit's final speech session—a high-stakes platform where media-hungry tycoons would vie for headlines. A standout performance could rival a 10-billion-won ad campaign, etching Hansung into Korea's psyche.
Everything hinged on tomorrow. In his hotel room, Minho hunched over a desk, drafting his speech. Though his *Ultimate Imitation Emperor System* gave him fluency, he wasn't leaving it to chance. A good memory paled against a sharp pen; jotting key points ensured precision. He wove chips, automation, and Industry 4.0 into a vision of Korea's tech-driven future, aiming to captivate the summit and the nation.
Minho's speech slot wasn't guaranteed. Xu Hua's public attack—branding him a shameless upstart—had rallied the elite against him. Only Ni Kwang-soo's nod kept his hopes alive. If Ni, the chip legend, could sway the judges, Minho would owe him. In return, he vowed to one day invite Ni to lead Hansung's chip R&D, fulfilling both their dreams of Korean tech independence.
*Knock, knock.*
A sudden rap at the door broke Minho's focus. "Huh?" he muttered, setting down his pen. Could it be his assistant, Kim Soo-jin? Rising, he crossed the room and opened the door.
A young man in a tailored suit stood outside, his polished demeanor tinged with a shrewd glint. At twenty-seven or twenty-eight, he exuded confidence. "Hello, Mr. Park. I'm Yoon Woo-bin, investment manager at Gao Sheng Investment," he said, extending a hand with a practiced smile.
Minho shook it, masking his surprise. Gao Sheng Investment? The global titan, a shadowy octopus with tentacles in every industry, from U.S. tech to Korean pig farming? Hansung, a Gyeonggi minnow with a 6-billion-won valuation, barely registered on their radar. Why were they here?
Gao Sheng's reputation was colossal. Known in Korea for internet bets, their reach spanned far beyond—energy, agriculture, infrastructure. They'd backed pig farms in 2004, a move that raised eyebrows. Fame didn't equal strength, though; Gao Sheng's quiet power dwarfed its public profile, a blood-sucking behemoth shaping global markets. For them to knock on Minho's door was both flattering and unnerving.
"Come, sit," Minho said, gesturing to the room's modest sofa. He stayed cool, no eager puppy fawning over a giant. Gao Sheng's visit sparked pride—Hansung had caught their eye—but Minho wasn't starstruck. Many firms would kill for Gao Sheng's cash, but he sensed strings attached.
Yoon Woo-bin sat, his eyes flicking to Minho's speech draft. Minho subtly angled the papers away, smiling. "So, what brings Gao Sheng Investment here?"
No pleasantries, straight to business. Minho's pride stemmed from Hansung's summit splash, not a thirst for Gao Sheng's funds. Hansung didn't need them. With 180,000 phones sold monthly, scaling to 1 million, and the Labor Edition 2's viral buzz—walnut-smashing tales spreading on MaumNet—the company was a rocket. Why dilute ownership now, at a low valuation, just to feed Gao Sheng's profits?
Yoon, unfazed, leaned back. "First, congratulations, Mr. Park, on your nationwide fame."
Minho raised an eyebrow. Flattery? Yoon's tone was warm, but his eyes were sharp, probing. "Fame's a stretch," Minho said, waving it off. "It's small-scale chatter, nothing more."
Yoon's smile didn't waver. "Modest, but let's be real. At 19, not even 20, you've turned around a company teetering on bankruptcy. Hansung's worth billions, employs thousands, and your summit performance has Korea talking. That's no small feat. You're a contemporary hero, worthy of national praise."
Minho's face stayed neutral, but his mind raced. Yoon's praise was calculated, buttering him up for the pitch. Gao Sheng's interest wasn't charity—they saw profit in Hansung's meteoric rise. But Minho knew the math. Hansung's growth was explosive; taking Gao Sheng's money now would mean selling future billions for pennies. Worse, their "help" often came with control—board seats, veto power, strategic meddling. Gao Sheng wasn't an investor; it was a predator.
"Thanks, but Hansung's just getting started," Minho said, his tone polite but firm. "We're not chasing fame—we're building a foundation. So, what's Gao Sheng's angle here?"
Yoon's smile tightened, sensing Minho's wariness. "We see potential," he said smoothly. "Hansung's disrupting the low-end phone market, and your summit ideas—chips, Industry 4.0—hint at bigger ambitions. Gao Sheng can fuel that. Capital, global networks, expertise. We'd love to partner."
Minho leaned back, studying Yoon. Partner? More like leash. Hansung's cash flow was solid, its factory humming. Gao Sheng's billions wouldn't speed things up—they'd just buy a slice of Minho's future. And Yoon's timing wasn't random. Minho's summit buzz, from Ni's nod to MaumNet's hype, had painted a target on Hansung. Gao Sheng smelled blood.
"Appreciate the interest," Minho said, "but Hansung's not looking for partners right now. We're focused on execution—scaling production, hitting the market hard. Maybe down the line."
Yoon's eyes narrowed, but his smile held. "Fair enough. But markets move fast, Mr. Park. Saehan's coming for you—Xu Hua's low-cost model's no joke. With our backing, you could outpace them, secure your chip dreams, even Industry 4.0. Think it over."
Minho's jaw tightened at Xu Hua's name. Yoon wasn't wrong—Saehan's threat loomed, and chips were a long game. But Gao Sheng's "backing" was a devil's bargain. He'd seen their playbook in his system's future glimpses—firms gutted, founders sidelined, profits siphoned. Hansung was his, built with the *Ultimate Imitation Emperor System*'s edge. No way he'd hand it over.
"I'll keep it in mind," Minho said, standing, signaling the end. "Thanks for the visit."
Yoon rose, his smile now a mask. "We'll stay in touch, Mr. Park. Hansung's one to watch." He left, his polished shoes clicking down the hall.
Minho shut the door, exhaling. Gao Sheng's interest was a badge of honor, but a warning too. Hansung was no longer a Gyeonggi minnow—it was prey in a bigger pond. Xu Hua's summit snipes, Saehan's market moves, now Gao Sheng's overture—the stakes were rising.
Returning to his desk, Minho eyed his speech draft. Tomorrow's session was make-or-break. Ni's support gave him a shot, but Xu Hua's elite allies could still block him. Industry 4.0—smart factories, chip-driven automation—was his ace, a vision to dazzle Korea and cement Hansung's name. MaumNet's buzz, praising his phone's toughness, was a tailwind. With 1 million units looming and the system's tech edge, Minho felt the path opening.
Xu Hua wanted him crushed. Gao Sheng wanted him leashed. The summit elite wanted him silenced. But Minho saw the detour—the smart route to the mountain's peak. Tomorrow, he'd shock them all, speech or no speech. Hansung's rise was unstoppable, and Korea would know it.
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(end of this chapter)