Because of the snow that fell last night, Central Park was completely blanketed in white.
Seok-won, seated alone and enjoying his brunch while admiring the snow-covered landscape through the expansive glass windows, put down his fork and knife and wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
At that moment, a hotel staff member in uniform quietly approached him from the side and asked,
"Shall I clear this for you?"
"Yes, please."
Seok-won nodded as he placed the napkin on the table.
The hotel staff brought over a serving cart and neatly cleared away the dishes from the table before asking again,
"Would you like dessert? Or perhaps some tea after your meal?"
"Just give me a cup of coffee. Make it strong, no sugar."
"Understood."
The hotel staff placed a pour-over coffee in front of Seok-won, made by slowly pouring hot water over ground coffee beans in a funnel fitted with a filter.
As he raised the cup and took a sip of the coffee, rich with the scent of roasted beans, Han Ji-sung approached and placed a newspaper on the table.
"This is yesterday's evening edition from Korea."
"Thank you."
Seok-won put down the cup and picked up the top newspaper from the stack Ji-sung had brought.
Although he was abroad, he made sure not to miss domestic developments by receiving Korean newspapers every two or three days via flights between Seoul and New York.
Before his regression, he could have accessed near real-time news from the other side of the world with just a few clicks, but such an environment didn't exist yet, so the inconvenience was unavoidable.
However, soon enough, news agencies would begin offering online news services, eliminating the need for this laborious process.
As he mused over that thought, slowly scanning through the pages, Seok-won came across a headline that caught his eye and paused.
[Four Banks Provide 180 Billion Won in Joint Loan to Hanbo Steel]
Ilhan, Wooyoung, Korea Exchange, and Industrial Bank—four major banks—have agreed to provide a joint loan of 180 billion won to Hanbo Steel ahead of next year's completion of its Dangjin steel plant.
With this, the four banks have collectively provided 4 trillion won in total this year to Hanbo Steel as facility and operating funds, each contributing 1 trillion won.
Meanwhile, in Yeouido's financial district, rumors have surfaced that the Hanbo Group is struggling with upcoming promissory note payments as the Dangjin steel plant nears completion, and that the joint loan was hastily arranged to cover notes due to its main bank, Ilhan Bank, by year's end…
"A conglomerate ranked 14th in the business world—receiving not even 1.8 trillion, but a mere 180 billion won through a joint loan from four banks? That's proof Hanbo Group has been pushed to the very edge."
The thought that a devastating chain of bankruptcies would soon sweep across South Korea, beginning with Hanbo Group, made Seok-won's expression grow grim.
"At least it's a relief that my father and brother took my advice, tightened the company's belt, extended short-term debts into long-term ones, and converted all available funds into dollars."
Had they not done that, Daheung Group would have certainly been shaken hard by the aftershock of the cascading bankruptcies.
"Still, just to be safe, I should warn my father and brother that Hanbo Group is going to default, and make sure they're fully prepared in advance."
If his memory was correct, loans tied up in the Dangjin steel plant from banks and merchant banks alone amounted to a staggering 3.6 trillion won.
And if the debts of other Hanbo Group affiliates were added to the mix, the total defaulted amount would easily exceed 5 trillion won.
"No matter how normalized debt-financed management has become, this has clearly crossed the line—by a long shot."
None of this could've happened if Chairman Choi Byung-moo hadn't worked his usual lobbying magic and thrown money at politicians and banks alike.
Even so, Seok-won recalled how Choi had later appeared at a National Assembly hearing and shamelessly claimed that Hanbo Group wouldn't have defaulted if the Industrial Bank had just approved an additional 300 billion won in loans. The memory made him shake his head in disbelief.
In any case, the collapse of loans on this scale would force banks to tighten corporate lending, drying up liquidity across the market.
"And that means companies already in trouble will only see their financial situations get worse."
In such a fragile state, it was no wonder that the tidal wave of the IMF crisis had swept away so many companies without resistance.
He had already given them a heads-up, but offering another warning might help reduce the damage even further.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the phone sitting at the corner of the table began to ring.
"Roy? What's he calling for?"
Seeing the name on the screen, Seok-won muttered quietly to himself and pressed the button to answer the call.
[It's me. Do you have a moment to talk?]
The unfamiliar tone in Roy's voice made Seok-won narrow his eyes slightly as he asked,
"What's going on? Something happen?"
[Yeah, something's happened. Something big.]
"I'm not following. Say it in a way I can understand."
[We've received an acquisition offer.]
"...!"
[Microsoft offered to buy our company for $300 million.]
The unexpected news made Seok-won's eyes widen in surprise, leaving him speechless for a moment.
To be more precise, based on his memories from before the regression, he already knew Microsoft would eventually attempt to acquire Hotmail—the service developed by Roy and his friends.
But he hadn't expected them to move this quickly.
If I remember correctly, Microsoft bought Hotmail near the end of next year.
If what Roy was saying was true, then the acquisition offer had come almost a full year earlier than in the original timeline.
Once he calmed down and thought it through, he realized it was entirely plausible.
After all, I intervened early on, so the founding of Hotmail happened sooner than it originally did. Thinking of it as a chain reaction makes sense.
In fact, Hotmail—offering 2MB of storage per account—had exploded in popularity, racking up an astounding 9 million users in under a year.
Given that kind of growth, it would have been stranger if Microsoft hadn't taken notice, especially with their MSN service gearing up to compete fiercely with Netscape in the web browser wars.
[Hey, are you listening to me?]
"Yeah, I am."
Snapping out of his thoughts, Seok-won refocused with an intrigued expression.
[So yeah—they officially proposed to buy 100% of the company for $300 million.]
"That's not a bad offer."
Roy repeated himself, emphasizing the amount, clearly surprised by Seok-won's calmness.
[Not thirty million—three hundred million, you know!]
"Yeah. I heard you."
[Man… You really are something else. We nearly passed out when we heard the number, and here you are, not even flinching.]
"I was surprised, too."
[Yeah, right.]
Hearing Roy grumble brought a faint smile to Seok-won's face, reminded of their playful bickering during their Harvard dormitory days.
"So, what do you want to do?"
[You're the majority shareholder—your opinion matters more than ours. That's why I called.]
Seok-won had initially invested $3 million in exchange for 30% of the company. But as the user base surged and Hotmail's value skyrocketed, he put in another $6 million and received additional shares, bringing his stake to 40%.
That made him the majority shareholder, ahead of Roy and his friends, who each held 20%.
"I'm just an investor. What really matters is how the founders feel."
Showing respect for Roy and the team, Seok-won passed the decision-making back to them.
Roy, seemingly touched by his response, replied in a slightly softer tone.
[Actually, we talked about it among ourselves before calling you. Everyone agreed—we're in favor of selling the company.]
It was a surprising response—especially coming from venture founders, who were typically deeply attached to the companies they built.
"You're really okay with letting it go? It hasn't even been that long since you started."
[It's not like we're completely emotionless about it. But even with you backing us, we think it'll be hard for Hotmail to survive on its own in a fight between giants like Microsoft and Netscape. And now that Yahoo's gone public on the NASDAQ and is getting ready to launch its own email service, the competition's only going to get more intense.]
Since Seok-won held a 40% stake in Yahoo, he had also made a fortune when it went public—so he could fully understand Roy and his friends' concerns.
The $2 million investment he had made early on had ballooned into nearly $3 billion in value.
Thinking along similar lines, Seok-won nodded in agreement.
"It's not going to be easy for Hotmail to survive against companies that control portals, operating systems, and web browsers."
[So you were thinking the same thing.]
"Yeah. As they all expand their domains, it's bound to turn into a brutal game of eat-or-be-eaten."
[Exactly. That's why we want to cash out while our valuation is at its peak.]
Roy agreed, sounding confident in their timing.
"You could potentially make even more by going public."
[We considered that. But if we lose momentum before then, we're screwed. And honestly, if we sell at the price they offered, we all walk away millionaires. That's not a bad deal.]
Since Microsoft had offered $300 million, each of the three founders would walk away with about $60 million—a staggering amount for a company less than two years old.
Knowing your limits, not getting greedy, and walking away with a solid win—that's a smart move.
Seok-won, fully aware of how the internet services market would soon turn into a cutthroat battlefield—especially with Microsoft, Netscape, Yahoo, and others jumping in—thought they were making the right decision.
In his view, Hotmail's peak valuation window would last maybe one to two more years at most.
After that, it was likely the big players would each launch their own email services and dominate the market.
Having sorted through his thoughts, Seok-won picked up the still-warm cup of coffee and asked:
"Would you guys be okay with me leading the negotiations with Microsoft?"
[I'll have to ask the others, but I doubt they'd object. I mean, let's be honest—none of us know how to handle this stuff. You'd do a better job.]
Seok-won's lips curled into a confident smile.
"Alright, then. I'll get in touch with Microsoft and handle the negotiations. Don't worry—I'll keep you all in the loop every step of the way."
[We trust you. We know you're not the kind of guy who'd stab us in the back.]
"Good. Just sit tight and trust me. I'll make sure you don't just walk away millionaires—I'll turn you into billionaires."
Roy's voice came back, half-joking and half-alarmed.
[Wait—are you planning to raise the offer price even higher?]
"If they were the ones who approached us with the acquisition offer, it means they're eager. That gives us leverage—we should squeeze out as much as we can."
[What if you push too hard and the deal falls apart?]
"That won't happen. Trust me. I'm going to make sure your severance package is very generous."
[Sheesh...]
Even though he couldn't see it, Seok-won could easily imagine Roy on the other end of the line, shaking his head.
[Fine, I give up. Do whatever you want.]
Roy hung up, leaving everything in Seok-won's hands.
It may have sounded like indifference, but both of them knew it was actually rooted in trust. Roy wouldn't have handed over the reins so easily otherwise.
Sipping his coffee, Seok-won paused to consider how he could shift the mood in their favor even before negotiations began.
After a moment of thought, a sharp idea came to mind. He picked up his phone and dialed a number.
A short dial tone later, the call connected, and a familiar voice answered on the other end.
Seok-won greeted him in a bright, friendly tone.
"Tom! Long time no talk. How've you been?"