Yang Joon-ho stood frozen, color draining from his face as Academician Choi's words sank in. Two Hanbit Academy academicians—Korea's intellectual titans—had just endorsed Park Minho, a 19-year-old dropout, on live TV.
"Two… academicians?" Yang croaked, his voice barely a whisper. He sank into his seat, shoulders collapsing. The bravado that had fueled his attack moments ago shattered like glass.
Around him, the crowd's mocking snickers prickled his skin. He'd tried to bury Minho under the weight of his missing diploma. Instead, Ni Kwang-soo and Choi's fierce defense had flipped his attack into a boomerang, making him look petty, foolish, jealous.
He couldn't even glare back. Yelling at national treasures would bury him deeper. His "for everyone's sake" excuse fooled no one now; the audience saw his envy as clearly as the cameras did.
From behind, a technical director leaned to his colleague. "What an idiot."
Yang's ears burned. He wanted to snap, to scream, but his throat tightened. Around him, bosses smirked, executives shook their heads. His humiliation was complete.
I'll make you pay, Park Minho… he thought bitterly. But for now, he was powerless—a spectator to Minho's triumph.
On stage, Academician Choi, satisfied that Yang was silenced, turned to Minho with a curt nod. "Mr. Park, continue. Show us your vision of the Fourth Industrial Revolution."
Minho bowed slightly. "Thank you, Academicians Ni and Choi."
His Ultimate Imitation Emperor System kept his pulse steady despite the roar in his chest. He swept his gaze across the hall—bosses in tailored suits, directors, technical elites, and TV cameras broadcasting his every move to millions. Their eyes, once skeptical, now burned with curiosity and respect. Yang's outburst had only amplified Minho's stage.
"Let's dive back into Industry 4.0," Minho said, pausing just long enough for silence to reclaim the auditorium. "The Fourth Industrial Revolution."
The hush was instant. Ni's eyes gleamed, Choi gripped his pen tightly. Even Xu Huo, Jaehan Mobile's scowling CEO, couldn't tear his eyes away, though his fists remained clenched on his lap.
"We're at the tail end of the third industrial revolution—computers, biotech, aerospace," Minho continued, his voice gaining momentum. "But Industry 4.0 is already sprouting. Its technologies, though embryonic, show us the future."
A ripple of curiosity spread. Minho's tone turned fierce.
"Industry 4.0 is massive, unlike any before. It's a revolution that could replace most factory workers with machines."
Gasps erupted. Executives shifted, eyebrows shot up. TV viewers froze mid-bite, stunned. Replace workers? Wasn't progress meant to create jobs?
Xu's scowl twitched, a flicker of nervousness passing his eyes. Is this lunacy… or genius?
Minho's eyes swept across the stunned room. "I've hinted at this before," he said, referencing his earlier speech that shook the producer panel. "When I pushed chips and automation, some glimpsed this future, but shied away, scared. Machines replacing labor sounds dystopian—like the first industrial revolution, when workers smashed looms, fearing joblessness."
He paused, letting them recall history. "But what happened? Early pain faded. New industries rose. After every revolution, society grew richer, lives improved."
Heads nodded, some hesitantly.
"The first revolution mechanized work and created factory jobs. The second brought electricity, spawning entire new sectors. The third gave us computers, birthing tech giants. Industry 4.0 will disrupt, yes. Workers will lose jobs initially. But new roles will emerge, markets will expand, and Korea's living standards will soar."
He glanced at Ni, who scribbled furiously, eyes alight with excitement. Choi's gaze was razor sharp, dissecting Minho's logic with growing approval. Big Kim of AliKor leaned forward, completely hooked.
Minho raised his voice, each syllable ringing clear.
"The pain's temporary. The gain is transformative."
A hush fell again, heavier this time. Even Yang, sunk low in his seat, felt the weight of Minho's words pressing against his chest.
"How do we get there?" Minho asked, smiling faintly as he answered himself. "That's the journey ahead. Korea's tech foundation—chips, AI, IoT—positions us to lead. Hansung's betting on it, scaling to 12 million phones, investing in chip R&D."
He paused, letting anticipation build like an electric charge.
"But today, let's focus on what sparks Industry 4.0."
The tension snapped taut. TV viewers leaned closer; MaumNet chat exploded with What next?
"What is Industry 4.0?" Minho asked softly. Then his voice rang like a bell. "It's simple: information technology fused with production, reshaping industry itself."
He gestured broadly, eyes burning with clarity. "We live in the computer age—a global village. The internet lets us talk, game, connect worldwide instantly. But it's not just for people—it's for machines."
Murmurs spread. Xu's scowl faltered; even he was drawn in now.
"Imagine production equipment linked via the internet," Minho said. "Sounds trivial—machines online, so what? But add big data and artificial intelligence. Suddenly, factories don't just run—they think. They predict demand, optimize output, slash waste."
His voice rose with unstoppable momentum.
"That is Industry 4.0. Smart systems, chip-driven, autonomous factories."
The room buzzed like an electric grid. Ni clapped softly, unable to hold back. Choi nodded, scribbling furiously. Big Kim's jaw dropped. The technical directors, once bitter, now stared at Minho with naked respect.
This is what it means to be a man, someone whispered. To command a stage and change a nation's course.
Minho pressed on, voice steady and fierce.
"Hansung's Labor Edition 2—tough, cheap, beloved in rural Korea—is just our foothold. But chips are our future. Korea's giants—Jaehan, TLC—chase our low-end phones. Let them. The real race is Industry 4.0's core: chips, AI, smart factories."
Applause surged like a wave. Bosses stood, clapping hard. Ni and Choi led the ovation, their faith vindicated before millions.
Xu's face was stone, unreadable, but inside he seethed. This kid… his vision dwarfs mine.
Far away, Gao Sheng's Yoon slammed his desk, cursing aloud. Minho's speech had fortified Hansung's public support, blunting every scheme they'd planned.
On MaumNet, hashtags blazed to life: Genius Dropout! Hansung's Future!
Minho closed with fire blazing in his chest.
"Industry 4.0 is Korea's destiny—smart, self-reliant, transformative. Hansung's paving the way. Join us."
The hall erupted. Cameras flashed, catching a 19-year-old legend standing tall. Yang slumped in his seat, defeated and forgotten. Xu plotted darkly, but Minho's star was untouchable now.
Hansung's 180,000 monthly sales, its walnut-smashing lore, its 12-million-unit factory—they were no longer rumors. They were Korea's pride.
Offstage, Minho exhaled, the Ultimate Imitation Emperor System humming like a silent thunder in his mind. Yang's attack, Xu's war, Gao Sheng's schemes—they had all failed.
But Ni and Choi's trust, the crowd's roar, MaumNet's storm—they had lifted him higher than ever.
The mobile market war loomed ahead, Jaehan and the giants circling. But Minho saw it clearly now.
Hansung wasn't just a company. It was a movement.
And Korea was his stage.
---
(end of this chapter)