Big Kim's speech, while verbose, lacked substance. If forced to pin a theme to it, it'd be: keep doing what's working and expand globally. Obvious, redundant advice—Korea was already on that path. Yet, somehow, Big Kim made the crowd nod along, a testament to his silver tongue. His knack for spinning nonsense into applause was enviable, a born leader's gift.
The host, no fool, stayed stone-faced through Big Kim's fluff. Turning to the room, he asked, "Any other insights on 'How to Transform from a Major Producer to a Production Powerhouse'?"
A rare voice piped up. "If I may?" It was a man in his fifties, reserved until now.
The host brightened. "CEO Ren of KorTech? Please, go ahead."
Ren wasn't a household name, and KorTech lagged behind other Korean telecom giants. But its contributions—solving critical telecom issues and advancing local equipment—were immense, thanks to Ren's leadership. He was KorTech's soul, respected for his impact.
Nods rippled through the room, signaling agreement to let Ren speak. Taking the mic, he spoke gravely. "As a telecom veteran, I've seen Korea's transformation through opening up. I'd like to share my thoughts on becoming a production powerhouse."
Admiring glances followed. Sharing hard-earned wisdom marked a true master, worthy of respect.
"To shift from a major producer to a powerhouse," Ren began, "we must tackle several areas. First, boost corporate innovation. After years in the game, I've learned strength demands independent innovation and patents. Without them, you're stuck as a low-end manufacturer, slaving for others' scraps."
Nods dotted the room, though sparse. Few here prioritized innovation or patents, but those who did—nodding quietly—were likely Korea's true backbone.
Ren pressed on. "Second, stick to industrial development. Virtual assets like stocks or the internet can yield massive returns, but industry is the foundation. We need more factories, backed by robust support."
More nods. France's fate—rich but industrially hollow, unable to make essentials—was a cautionary tale. A financial empire without factories was fragile.
"Third, ramp up R&D investment. Science and tech drive progress. To rise, Korea needs a sharp tech edge. Becoming a powerhouse demands heavy research funding."
Ren bowed slightly and sat, prompting warm applause. Unlike Big Kim's vague platitudes, Ren's points—innovation, industry, R&D—were clear, directional. He didn't spell out execution but set a path, making his answer practical and grounded.
Big Kim spun grand concepts; Ren walked the earth, reflecting their roots—internet versus telecom. Ren's clarity and action-oriented mindset stood out.
"Any other suggestions?" the host asked, scanning the crowd. "Speak freely. If Korea adopts your plan, you could make history."
As usual, he offered the floor to smaller bosses. His gaze landed on a familiar figure—Park Minho, who'd wowed with triple play. Curious, the host lingered, and Minho raised his hand, signaling he had something to say.
"Let this young man share his views," the host said, nodding at Minho.
Minho's lips curled into a confident smile. A second chance to speak at the summit? Perfect. He'd use it to stun the room, building toward a shot at tomorrow's speech session. With the *Ultimate Imitation Emperor System* and his prepped notes, he was ready.
"Wait!" a voice cut in, just as Minho reached for the mic. A front-row boss stood—Xu Hua of Saehan Mobile, his tone deliberate.
Minho froze, sensing a trap. Xu Hua's interruption wasn't random. The Saehan chief, who'd dismissed triple play as a dream, clearly saw Minho's rise as a threat. The summit was a battlefield, and Xu Hua was drawing a line.
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(end of this chapter)