The auditorium at the Busan Industry Summit buzzed with anticipation as Park Minho took the stage, his speech title—Industry 4.0—igniting whispers among the crowd. Bosses who'd witnessed his earlier summit clashes, from triple play to his chip-driven powerhouse vision, exchanged glances. The kid who'd outtalked chaebol titans was back, and his topic was the same cryptic tease he'd dangled for days.
"Industry 4.0?" one CEO murmured. "That's the kid's pitch from day one. He's got guts to make it his speech."
Realization spread. Minho, not yet 20, had snagged a coveted speech slot—a stage reserved for Korea's elite, broadcast to millions. Jealousy flared, none hotter than from Yang Joon-ho, the real estate mogul seated near Minho's earlier summit spot. Yang's fists clenched, his face twisting with envy.
*Damn it!* Yang seethed. He'd handed Minho the mic on day one, giving him the chance to pitch triple play and steal the spotlight. Now, Minho was here, basking in national attention, while Yang sat sidelined. *I should've kept that mic!* If not for that moment, Minho wouldn't be addressing Korea's power players, his face beamed to TVs nationwide, his name primed for media headlines. Yang stomped his foot, imagining the floor was Minho's smug face.
Minho, unfazed by the undercurrent of resentment, stepped to the podium. His *Ultimate Imitation Emperor System* fed him calm, his speech draft a blade honed overnight. "Good afternoon," he began, his voice clear, carrying a playful edge. "I'm Park Minho, CEO of Hansung Technology, the super genius behind the Labor Edition 2 phone!"
Laughter rippled through the crowd, bosses chuckling, TV viewers grinning. Minho's self-deprecating swagger—calling himself a "super genius"—was a masterstroke. It disarmed skeptics, lodged his name in minds, and tied it to Hansung's rugged, rural-hit phone. Even Xu Hua, Saehan's scowling boss, couldn't suppress a smirk.
Minho's smile widened, scanning the room. "Today's topic is Industry 4.0, the fourth industrial revolution."
Ni Kwang-soo, in the jury panel, leaned forward, eyes gleaming. *Finally.* Minho's earlier teases had left him itching; now, the puzzle would unravel. Xu Hua's scowl deepened, sensing a threat. Big Kim of AliKor raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"To understand Industry 4.0," Minho said, "we start with the past. The first industrial revolution, 1760s to 1840s, was the steam engine—mechanizing production, birthing factories." Nods rippled; history books backed him up.
"The second, late 1860s, brought electricity, internal combustion engines, new transport, telecoms, and chemicals. It rewired society." More nods—Minho was on solid ground.
"The third," he continued, "hit decades ago. Atomic energy, aerospace, computers, synthetic materials, biotech—high-tech that reshaped our world. It's our era, the third industrial revolution."
Scholars in the crowd exchanged glances. The third revolution's definition was debated globally—some nations pinned it, others didn't. Minho's framing, tying it to computers and biotech, wasn't universal but felt right. The world *had* changed post-1940s tech booms.
On the jury panel, Ni turned to Academician Choi, the rocket expert. "What do you think, Choi?"
"No question," Choi said firmly. "We're in the third industrial revolution. Computers, aerospace—those shifted everything."
An industrial revolution, they knew, was marked by tech that remade society and industry. Minho's listed advances—computers, biotech—had done just that. Choi squinted at Minho, a spark of respect forming. "But what's his fourth revolution?"
Minho's voice grew bolder. "The third revolution's still unfolding, its tech maturing. Industry 4.0, the fourth, is on the horizon—not here, but brewing. We're in its embryonic stage."
The room leaned in. Yang Joon-ho, his jealousy boiling, couldn't hold back. He shot to his feet, pointing at Minho. "Stop right there, you punk! You're faking it—acting like you get this! Have you even been to college? Studied tech? Who are you to lecture us on industrial revolutions?"
Gasps echoed. Yang's outburst, raw and unprofessional, stunned the room. Xu Hua smirked, sensing an ally in chaos. Ni's face hardened; Choi frowned. The host hesitated, unsure whether to intervene.
Minho, unfazed, locked eyes with Yang. His system's calm steadied him. "Mr. Yang, I respect your passion, but let's stick to ideas. College or not, the question is: what's Industry 4.0? I'm here to answer."
The crowd murmured, impressed by Minho's cool deflection. Yang, red-faced, sat down, his outburst backfiring. Ni nodded approvingly; Minho had dodged a trap.
"Industry 4.0," Minho resumed, "is the fusion of digital, physical, and biological systems. It's smart factories where machines talk to each other via IoT, powered by AI and chips. It's supply chains that predict demand, self-optimize, cut waste. It's automation at its peak—factories thinking, adapting, creating value like never before."
The room went quiet, minds racing. Ni's eyes widened; Choi scribbled notes. Big Kim leaned forward, hooked. Minho's vision wasn't just bold—it was tangible, a blueprint for Korea's leap.
"Chips are the heart," Minho said. "Without them, Industry 4.0's a pipe dream. Korea's past—Projects 531, 908, 909—taught us: relying on foreign tech fails. Wassenaar chokes us. Hansung's betting big—12 million phones a year, chip R&D next. We're building for Industry 4.0, for Korea's powerhouse future."
Applause erupted, louder than for Big Kim. TV viewers, glued to screens, felt a surge of pride. MaumNet would ignite tonight—Minho's name, Hansung's mission, Industry 4.0's promise. Xu Hua's scowl deepened; Saehan's low-cost push seemed petty now. Gao Sheng's Yoon, watching remotely, gritted his teeth—Minho's speech was a shield against their schemes.
"Korea's giants—Saehan, TLC—are chasing our low-end niche," Minho said, his tone steady but pointed. "That's fine. Competition drives us. But the real race is chips, smart systems, the fourth revolution. Hansung's all-in, and we invite Korea to join us."
The crowd roared, standing. Ni clapped fiercely, Choi joining him. Yang slumped, his jealousy drowned by Minho's triumph. Media cameras flashed, capturing a 19-year-old redefining Korea's tech destiny. Hansung wasn't just a phone maker—it was a movement.
Minho stepped offstage, heart pounding. He'd shocked the summit, won the nation. Ni's faith, the system's edge, MaumNet's buzz—they'd carried him. Xu Hua, Gao Sheng, Yang's tantrum, the giants' market war—they were obstacles, but Minho saw the detour. Hansung's name was now Korea's, and the mountain's peak was in sight.
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*Chapter 39's here, brothers! The summit arc's done, and the mobile market war's next!*
(end of this chapter)