As the opening ceremony wrapped up, the moderator took the stage, his voice steady as he announced the agenda for the Busan Industry Summit.
"I'm delighted to welcome you all. This summit features over a dozen discussion topics, including 'The Role of Media in Economic Trends,' 'Korean Automakers Going Global,' 'Trends in Foreign Investment in Korea,' 'New Challenges for Korea's Telecom Industry,' 'State-Owned Enterprise Reform,' 'Corporate Governance,' and 'Intellectual Property Enforcement Measures.'
These topics will be discussed in no fixed order. If you have suggestions or wish to share your perspective, raise your hand, and we'll select speakers at random."
Listening to the host, Park Minho felt a spark of inspiration for how to make his mark. The idea was rough, still forming, but it held promise. He'd need time to refine it. The topics, he realized, weren't just abstract debates—they tackled real hurdles facing Korea's industries. This summit was a think tank, tapping the collective wisdom of business leaders to propose solutions that could shape national policy.
The stakes were high. Ideas voiced here might influence Korea's future, explaining why the summit drew such intense focus and why CEOs showed up in person. For many, it was a chance to leave a legacy, to steer the nation's course. From ancient times, scholars dreamed of impacting the world; today's tycoons were no different. The opportunity to speak freely, to have your ideas adopted, was irresistible.
"I can make waves here," Minho murmured, his confidence swelling.
As a time-traveler with glimpses of the future, he knew where many of these trends were headed. Among the summit's topics, some had clear answers in his mind. All he needed was a chance to speak, to share his vision.
"Heh," a soft chuckle came from the man beside him, who'd overheard Minho's whisper. He shot Minho a sidelong glance, dripping with scorn.
A young nobody daring to dream of stealing the show? Laughable. Those seated in the back, like them, ran companies worth tens of millions of won—big fish in small ponds, but minnows here. In a room packed with Korea's elite, a tens-of-millions company was nothing. For Minho to think he could shine among industry giants was delusional.
The host had said anyone could speak, but the "random selection" was a polite fiction. Only the heavyweights up front—CEOs of Samsung, LG, or Saehan—got to talk freely. Smaller players like Minho? They'd need to be picked from a sea of raised hands, a near-impossible long shot. The man smirked again, dismissing Minho's ambition as a pipe dream. Class dictated who spoke, and Minho was at the bottom.
---
After the opening ceremony, a break was called. The big shots rose, heading out for lunch and a breather before the afternoon's discussions.
"President, that's Park Minho—the Hansung Technology guy," a woman whispered, sidling up to a man in the front row. She nodded subtly toward Minho.
The man was Xu Hua, president of Saehan Mobile, and the woman was his secretary, Soo-jin.
"Hansung's Minho?" Xu Hua glanced back, catching Minho standing up. Their eyes met, a brief but charged moment.
Minho sensed the man's identity before he saw the face. Those cold, contemptuous eyes, that familiar frame—it could only be Xu Hua, Saehan's head and his biggest rival.
"Just a clown riding a lucky streak," Xu Hua muttered, his gaze icy despite the distance. He turned away, striding toward the exit without a second look.
To Xu Hua, Minho was a fleeting nuisance. At this summit, Saehan was a star, with the clout to speak freely. Hansung? Barely a blip, relegated to hoping for a random draw to say a word. Xu Hua's lips curled into a smug smile as he left. This was his stage.
Minho watched him go, piecing it together. No name tag was needed—Xu Hua's disdain and stature screamed Saehan. Minho's jaw tightened, but he stayed calm. The summit was a battleground, and he'd come to fight.
---
By 2 p.m., after the lunch break, attendees returned to their seats. The venue hummed with anticipation as the moderator resumed.
"Thank you for joining us at the Busan Industry Summit. After deliberation, our panel has chosen the first discussion topic: 'New Challenges for Korea's Telecom Industry.' Please share your views and suggestions. Who'd like to start?"
A brief silence hung over the room, everyone waiting for someone to break the ice. Then, a familiar voice piped up. "Ahem, if I may, let me kick things off."
It was Big Kim, CEO of AliKor, known for loving the spotlight. With no one else jumping in, he seized the moment, as always.
"Very well, please, Mr. Kim of AliKor, share your insights," the host said, leading a round of applause. The crowd followed, clapping warmly, a nod to Big Kim's clout as the mastermind behind Korea's top e-commerce platforms, KorBay and AliBabaKor. He was a man even tycoons courted.
Minho sat in the back, watching the scene unfold. Big Kim's bravado, Xu Hua's sneer, the man beside him's scoff—they all underscored his place in the pecking order. But he wasn't here to sulk. Hansung was selling 180,000 phones a month, with 90,000 moved in weeks. His factory was gearing up for 1 million monthly, backed by the *Ultimate Imitation Emperor System*. He had a plan brewing, a way to turn heads. The summit was his shot, and he wouldn't miss it.
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(end of this chapter)