Completely blindsided by Seok-won's gesture, not only Trevor but even Landon, seated beside him, wore a stunned expression.
Landon was about to speak up, but upon seeing Seok-won's calm and composed demeanor as he faced Trevor, he realized this wasn't some impulsive whim. Quietly, he closed his mouth.
Trevor, still visibly in shock, leaned forward slightly, as if to make sure he had heard correctly.
"You're saying… if I write the amount we need on that check, you'll invest it?"
"That's right."
Seok-won nodded slightly, his smile unchanged.
"Whether it's ten million dollars or a hundred million—write whatever you need. Of course, I'll be receiving equity proportional to the investment."
They had already discussed exchanging capital for shares, so that part wasn't an issue.
But for a company that had just gone through layoffs and was hemorrhaging cash by the day, the offer to inject however much money they needed—it was nothing short of a miracle.
And it showed.
Roy Beast and Michael Golner, initially stunned, quickly realized Seok-won wasn't joking. Their faces lit up, almost on the verge of cheering.
Trevor looked the same—still a bit dazed, but now clearly breathing easier. The weight he'd been carrying seemed to finally ease, and a deep sigh slipped from him, unbidden. It spoke volumes about how hard things had been.
Then, a sudden thought made him glance cautiously across the table at Seok-won.
"…May I ask—why are you doing this?"
At that, even Landon—who had been trying hard to mask his surprise—turned to Seok-won with a look of curiosity.
Seok-won casually lifted the teacup in front of him, took a sip of coffee, and set it down before answering as if it were nothing.
"It's simple. I hold a deep respect for NVIDIA—or more specifically, for you, Mr. Hwang, and your team's skill and spirit of innovation. I believe that if you're given the opportunity, you'll absolutely succeed."
It didn't sound like empty flattery, but rather a sincere expression of faith in both the company and the people behind it.
Trevor Hwang, hearing the genuine conviction in Seok-won's voice, felt a long-dormant warmth rise in his chest—something he hadn't felt in a while after back-to-back failures.
He knew better than anyone the skepticism surrounding their company in the industry—that most believed a comeback was impossible.
Desperate to grab even the thinnest straw, Trevor had boarded the flight to New York prepared to swallow any pride, face any humiliation, and beg at Seok-won's feet if that's what it took to secure investment.
But then—this. A generous offer to provide as much funding as needed, without hesitation. It was enough to restore a shred of dignity he thought he'd lost.
Fighting back the surge of emotion rising inside him, Trevor couldn't help but ask one more time, needing to be sure.
"Even though we've already failed twice… you still believe we have a chance?"
"I don't see those two setbacks as failures," Seok-won replied calmly. "They're just stepping stones on the path to success."
Trevor listened intently, his expression sharpening with intrigue.
"If you were to give up now, then it would be a failure. But as long as you're still fighting, everything up to now is just part of the journey. You knew the road would be tough, and yet you didn't just abandon your second graphics card mid-way—you scrapped your existing architecture and tech entirely. That kind of risk only comes from confidence. You took that gamble because deep down, you believe the next one will work. Isn't that right?"
It was as if Seok-won had read his thoughts. Trevor's face flushed, the words hitting closer to home than expected.
"The new graphics chip we're developing—it will succeed," he said, his voice filled with conviction.
Seok-won gave a nod of approval.
"That's exactly why I made the offer. Because I believe it will."
Trevor, now visibly energized, clenched his fist tightly.
Of course, Seok-won already knew NVIDIA would go on to achieve massive success with its third graphics card, the RIVA 128, their first mass-produced product. But he said nothing, simply offering words of support instead.
"I truly hope it does," Seok-won said with a warm smile.
He gestured casually toward the blank check on the table.
"Now, go ahead and write down the number."
Trevor fell silent, his expression turning serious. After a long pause, he pulled a pen from his inner pocket and leaned forward to write on the blank check.
[20,000,000 USD]
Roy Beast and Michael Golner, who had been watching nervously from the side, widened their eyes in shock as they saw the figure.
Twenty million dollars?! Even if he had said to write down any amount, wasn't this too much?
If Seok-won took back his offer, saying they'd gotten greedy, they wouldn't be able to argue. They'd blown their shot.
The two men anxiously glanced across the table, gauging Seok-won's reaction.
Even Landon, who had been composed until now, couldn't hide a flicker of discomfort as his eyes dropped to the check.
But Seok-won, expression unchanged, glanced down at the figure, then looked back up.
"Will this be enough?" he asked calmly.
Swallowing dryly, Trevor Hwang answered quickly, as if he'd been holding his breath waiting for Seok-won to speak.
"That's the amount we need to complete the development of NV3 and carry it through to mass production and launch."
NV3 was the internal codename for what would become NVIDIA's first hit product: the RIVA 128 graphics card.
Landon, wearing a displeased expression, chimed in with a flat tone.
"We understand you need funding for a product launch. But I think you're overlooking one very important issue."
"...?"
"What do you believe NVIDIA's current valuation is, Mr. Hwang?"
The sharp question made Trevor freeze for a moment, unable to respond.
Seeing this, Landon shrugged slightly and, in a calm but pointed manner befitting his background as a lawyer, continued.
"Our evaluation puts NVIDIA's current value at about five million dollars. Honestly, given how close the company is to bankruptcy, we're already being generous."
It was a harsh assessment—but not an unfair one. None of the NVIDIA executives seated nearby attempted to argue.
"But then you ask us to invest twenty million dollars. That's… quite surprising. Even if you gave up your entire company in return, it still wouldn't be enough to justify the amount. Are you really okay with that?"
A heavy silence settled over the meeting room.
It might've seemed too harsh, but no one could deny that Landon was speaking the truth.
Trevor's colleagues anxiously signaled to him with their eyes, clearly urging him to revise the check amount before Seok-won changed his mind. Trevor, too, started to question whether he had gotten carried away in the moment.
The bitter taste of disappointment crept in, but he knew Landon's assessment wasn't wrong.
"No… considering our debt and the fact that nobody in the market even takes us seriously anymore, calling us worth five million is actually generous."
It stung, but as much as it hurt, Trevor was ready to swallow his pride. He prepared to lower the figure before this hard-won opportunity slipped through their fingers—when Seok-won, who had been quietly listening with arms crossed, finally spoke.
"Landon's right. Given NVIDIA's current valuation, it's true that there are a few complications."
"If… if you're willing to do even half—" Trevor quickly tried to interject, but Seok-won cut him off.
"However, I believe NVIDIA's potential far exceeds its present value. So I'll invest the full twenty million—just as you asked."
Everyone in the room turned to look at him in shock—Trevor, the NVIDIA executives, even Landon, who had clearly expected pushback. They all stared at Seok-won, stunned.
"Boss, if you do that—" Landon began, clearly thrown off.
Seok-won raised a hand, gently stopping Landon from objecting.
"I've made this decision for a reason. We'll talk about it later."
To Landon, it still seemed like far too risky and disadvantageous a deal—but with those words, he had no choice but to stay silent.
Meanwhile, Trevor Hwang looked both grateful and uneasy. Though relieved by Seok-won's promise to invest the full amount, he still glanced over nervously, unsure what strings might be attached.
"So… how much equity are you asking for?" he asked cautiously.
Instead of answering directly, Seok-won turned to Landon.
"You said NVIDIA's current valuation is around five million dollars, right?"
"That's correct."
Seok-won shifted his gaze to Trevor and the other executives, who were watching him with anxious anticipation, and calmly laid out his terms.
"We'll take 50% equity for the five million. The remaining fifteen million will be invested in the form of CBs."
CB—convertible bonds—referred to bonds that could be converted into stock instead of being repaid in cash upon maturity.
"For the first two years, we'll waive the interest. When NVIDIA goes public, we'll have the option to convert at one dollar per share."
Crossing one leg over the other, Seok-won laced his fingers over his knee as he continued.
"This way, NVIDIA secures the funding it needs, and if the company successfully goes public, we'll be rewarded for taking on the risk. I think it's a win-win for both sides. What do you say?"
From a position where even giving up a majority stake wouldn't have been unreasonable, this was not just fair—it was unbelievably generous.
Trevor looked stunned, as if wondering whether he was dreaming. "You're really okay with that?"
"Of course."
Without hesitation, Trevor nodded, clearly seeing no need to think it over any further.
"Then let's do it."
Seok-won gave a subtle tilt of his chin toward Landon, signaling that the rest was up to him.
"Work out the details—interest rates and contract terms—with him."
Landon still looked baffled. No matter how he analyzed it, this seemed too lenient a deal. But given Seok-won's decision, he let out a small sigh and replied reluctantly.
"Understood."
On the other hand, Trevor and the NVIDIA executives, elated beyond expectation, couldn't hide their smiles.
Soon after, the deal was finalized quickly and smoothly. The CBs would mature before an IPO, and, after much insistence from Landon, they settled on an 8% annual interest rate starting in the third year.
Though that was higher than most bank loans, being able to use the money interest-free for two years made it more than acceptable.
Besides, with NVIDIA teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, there wasn't a single bank willing to lend them that kind of capital. Just having access to that funding was a miracle in itself.
Clutching the $20 million check from Seok-won like a lifeline, Trevor couldn't stop repeating his thanks as he and his team exited the conference room.
Landon let out a short sigh, then turned to Seok-won, his expression one of unresolved disbelief.
"I understand you have high hopes for NVIDIA, but… was it really necessary to be this generous?"
Seok-won offered a faint smile and posed an unexpected question.
"What do you think is the most important asset for a startup?"
"Well… a brilliant idea with huge potential and the people who can bring it to life, of course."
"Exactly. But if you go in and take all their equity in exchange for funding, how do you think the founders and employees will feel?"
"...!"
"A startup runs on passion—the hope and dream that, if the company grows and goes public, they could become millionaires. But if all they get is a monthly paycheck, how long do you think that drive will last?"
Landon paused to consider this, then gave a small nod.
"You're right. It probably wouldn't."
"And if that happens, no matter how much potential the company has, it'll fade away before it ever turns from an ugly duckling into a swan."
"So that's why you intentionally only took half the equity."
Realization dawned on Landon's face as he spoke, and Seok-won responded with a warm smile.
"Exactly. This way, they'll still feel like NVIDIA is their company. And with that sense of ownership, they'll pour their energy into it even more. Once they deliver results and the company goes public, not only will the equity we secured be worth a fortune, but we'll also make a significant profit by converting the CBs."
It wasn't a case of reckless generosity—it was a carefully calculated strategy.
Understanding that, Landon let out a quiet breath and murmured with a hint of awe, "I worried for nothing. I should've known you had a plan all along."
Seok-won smiled, but behind that calm expression, he was doing his own quick mental math.
If memory served him right, when NVIDIA went public on NASDAQ three years later, the IPO price was $12 per share. That meant converting the CBs at $1 per share would yield a 12-fold return—without doing a thing but waiting.
"And considering how NVIDIA kept growing even after the IPO, eventually becoming a semiconductor giant and one of the most valuable companies in the world, that $20 million was practically a steal."
He was already looking forward to the day Landon would see the NVIDIA shares they bought at $1 skyrocket—and to the look on his face when he did.