The Busan Industry Summit crackled with tension. Yang Joon-ho shot to his feet, jabbing a finger at the young man on stage.
"A high school dropout!" he sneered, his voice ringing across the auditorium. "What qualifies you to lecture us on the Fourth Industrial Revolution? You're wasting everyone's time. Step down—for everyone's sake!"
Gasps spread through the audience. CEOs shifted uncomfortably. Cameras zoomed in, broadcasting Yang's outburst to millions watching live.
Yang's face burned with righteous fury, but behind his glare lurked jealousy. Minho—once a nobody from Gyeonggi—now stood before Korea's elite, his rise unstoppable. Yang had handed him the mic on day one, thinking he'd humiliate himself. Instead, Minho's bold ideas had turned him into a star. Fame gnawed at Yang, and today he'd reclaim the spotlight—no matter the cost.
Minho met his gaze coolly, the Ultimate Imitation Emperor System keeping him calm. "Mr. Yang," he said softly, "I'm honestly curious. How did someone with your… intellect build a company worth billions? Connections must be powerful indeed."
The crowd rippled with laughter. Some bosses stifled grins. Viewers online chuckled. Yang's face went from red to crimson as his attack boomeranged.
"You…!" Yang sputtered, his voice cracking. "This isn't about me! You're a dropout—no college, no credentials. You dare talk about industrial revolutions? Fraud!"
On the jury panel, Academician Choi, the rocket design legend, frowned. Beside him, Ni Kwang-soo's lips tightened with irritation. Yang's interruption had broken their focus. Minho's Industry 4.0 speech had them riveted—until this tantrum.
Choi grabbed his mic. "Mr. Yang, respect the stage. Minho is speaking."
Ni's voice followed, sharp and cold. "Some people lack basic decorum, picking fights at the worst moments. Not afraid of looking foolish on national TV, are they?"
Yang's jaw worked furiously. Two Hanbit Academy academicians were mocking him. He hadn't expected this. Still, envy drove him deeper into his hole.
"I'm protecting everyone's interests!" Yang shouted, his voice shrill. "He's unfit for this stage, spouting nonsense. He needs a degree first!"
The crowd gasped. In Korea, credentials mattered. Whispers spread: Is he really a fraud? Just a dropout with no grounding?
Before Minho could speak, Choi's voice boomed, thick with anger. "His qualifications aren't your call—they're ours."
Yang smirked, sensing an opening. "Oh? So it's favoritism now? You're propping him up because you're biased. I'll expose this shady deal."
The room froze. Attacking Minho was one thing; accusing academicians of corruption was suicide. The technical directors in the audience glared at Yang. How dare he insult national treasures?
Ni stood, his voice thundering. "Yes, we're Hanbit Academy academicians. And yes, we back Minho—not out of favoritism, but because his knowledge and vision surpass your comprehension."
Choi leaned forward, eyes blazing. "He's a dropout. So what? His ideas—triple play, chips, Industry 4.0—are sharper than most PhDs'. His logic is sound, his patriotism burns bright. That's why he's up there, and you're not. Clear enough?"
Applause broke out, rising to thunder. Yang shrank back into his seat, his bravado crumbling.
Minho bowed slightly to Ni and Choi. "Thank you, Academicians. Now, as I was saying…"
He turned back to the stunned crowd. "Industry 4.0 isn't theory—it's Korea's future. Smart factories, AI, IoT, all chip-driven. Machines that learn. Supply chains that think. Production that adapts. Hansung's Labor Edition 2—built for rural Korea, tough as nails—is our first step. Chips are next, for Industry 4.0, for Korea."
The audience leaned forward, eyes bright. Ni nodded, deeply satisfied. Choi scribbled notes furiously. In the front row, Xu Hua, Saehan's boss, clenched his fists. Minho's vision dwarfed his cheap-phone strategy. Big Kim of AliKor clapped softly, impressed. Even the technical directors, once skeptical, watched with grudging respect.
Minho's voice rose, confident and powerful. "Korea's giants are copying our low-end phones. Let them. The real race is chips—the heart of Industry 4.0. Hansung is scaling to 12 million units and investing in R&D. We're not chasing the West; we're taking the detour to the peak."
Applause exploded through the hall. Online, MaumNet lit up: Genius dropout! Hansung's king!
Yang slumped, his stunt a humiliating flop. Xu Hua scowled darkly; Gao Sheng's Yoon, watching remotely, cursed. Minho's speech was a fortress, shielding Hansung from every scheme.
Minho closed with a fierce gleam in his eyes. "Industry 4.0 is Korea's destiny—smart, self-reliant, chip-driven. Hansung's building that future. Join us."
The auditorium rose in a standing ovation. Ni and Choi clapped hardest, their faith vindicated. Cameras flashed, capturing the moment a 19-year-old dropout became Korea's hope.
Offstage, Minho exhaled, the Ultimate Imitation Emperor System humming in his mind. Yang's attack, Xu Hua's threats, Gao Sheng's shadow—all had tried to bury him. But Ni's trust, Choi's fire, and the crowd's roar had lifted him higher.
The mobile market war loomed. Saehan and other giants were circling. But Minho saw the path clearly now. Hansung wasn't just a company—it was a movement.
And Korea was his stage.
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