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CH34 | Heir
🕑 Added 2025-03-20 04:21:00 +0000 UTCWilmerHale—one of the top five law firms in the United States.
For any lawyer, it was considered the dream workplace.
Getting in was incredibly difficult, yet today, a lawyer who had been with the firm for less than three years submitted his resignation.
"Hey, Park! Why are you suddenly quitting? Is it the salary? There's no third-year lawyer making as much as you!"
"I’m satisfied with my salary."
Lincoln, one of the few partner attorneys at WilmerHale, couldn't understand why Park Jun-il, a junior lawyer he had recently grown fond of, was throwing in the towel.
"Then why are you quitting? What’s missing?"
"I’m homesick. I’m returning to Korea."
"Are you insane? Of all places, Korea? Not another law firm, but Korea? What’s even there for you?"
"I have a debt to repay. Someone who supported me through law school is waiting for me."
Lincoln was even more baffled by Jun-il’s response.
It sounded like something a medieval knight would say to his lord, making Lincoln’s voice rise in frustration.
"You can repay that debt after building your career! Just five more years, and I’ll recommend you for a partner position! With a WilmerHale partner title, you can live the rest of your life in luxury."
"I understand. But as a Taewoo Group scholarship recipient, I have an obligation to repay my benefactors."
"Taewoo Group? Isn’t that some cheap car company? If you go there, your career is over."
"Even so, I have to go. Thank you for everything. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me."
Realizing there was no way to convince him, Lincoln finally gave up.
He grabbed the resignation letter and threw it in Jun-il’s face.
"If you want to go, then go. But once you're there, you'll realize—there’s no future for you in Korea. If you ever want to come back, your spot will still be here."
"Thank you. I’ll stay in touch."
"Unless you’re coming back, don’t bother calling me!"
Lincoln was infamous for being cold-hearted.
Yet, with Jun-il, he had shown a rare warmth—proof of how much he valued his talent.
Park Jun-il was not just a top law school graduate; he also had extensive knowledge in science and engineering, making him a key player in the growing field of intellectual property disputes.
He knew full well that staying at WilmerHale would guarantee him a golden future.
But he couldn’t ignore the call of Taewoo Group—the company that had funded his expensive law school tuition and living expenses when he couldn’t even afford a piece of bread.
And he wasn’t the only one making that decision.
Many others—former Taewoo scholars living in the U.S. and Europe—were also quitting their jobs and boarding planes to Korea at Taewoo Group’s request.
And among them was one unexpected figure.
His name was Jonathan.
A designer at Apple, he had received a message through SAVE Investment, one of Apple’s major shareholders.
Curious, he couldn’t resist booking a flight to Korea.
The message he received was simple:
[The Message Pad is not trash. I’ll prove it.]
Talented individuals were arriving at the Taewoo Research Institute one after another.
They were scholars who had studied with funds provided by the Taewoo Scholarship Foundation.
Brimming with pride as Taewoo scholars, they displayed a strong sense of loyalty to the company.
There was no need to put in extra effort to integrate them with the existing research staff.
But Jonathan was different.
He was a designer from Apple and had never received any financial support from Taewoo Group.
He had come to Korea out of sheer curiosity—nothing more.
As soon as he saw me, he erupted in anger.
“How exactly do you plan to prove that the Message Pad isn’t trash? Apple fell into ruin because of it.”
Well, I had provoked him on purpose. To him, the Message Pad was a sore spot.
Jonathan was the designer of the infamous Message Pad, often regarded as one of the greatest tech failures in history.
But that was only true for now.
In just a few years, the Message Pad would be recognized as the father of the iPhone.
Without the Message Pad, neither the iPhone nor the iPad would have existed.
And the designs of both those revolutionary devices also came from Jonathan’s hands.
If I could bring a man like that onto my team, I was willing to endure his anger a hundred times over.
“It was simply too ahead of its time, which is why the public rejected it. For people to accept a product, it needs to be released at the right time with the right technology.”
“So you’re saying the Message Pad was too advanced?”
“It skipped an essential middle step. If we build that step properly, the Message Pad will be reevaluated and recognized for what it truly is. And I can help make that happen. More precisely, why don’t we make it happen together?”
I had just said the words Jonathan most wanted to hear.
But he still looked furious, so I went in for another push.
“I’ll offer you a higher salary than you were getting at Apple.”
“Salary isn’t important to me.”
Of course, money didn’t matter to him.
Right now, his pride as a designer was in shambles.
Because of the Message Pad, his reputation had been tarnished, and Apple had suffered.
“Then let me make you one more promise. Work with me for just two years, and I’ll ensure you return to Apple—not as a failed designer, but as a resounding success.”
“And who exactly are you to make that kind of promise? What, are you close with SAVE Investment, Apple’s major shareholder?”
“I’m not just close with SAVE—I’m the real owner. As a major Apple shareholder, I want to save Apple too. And to do that, I need you.”
Jonathan tilted his head slightly.
He must have noticed the contradiction in what I said.
“You want to save Apple, but you're telling me to join Taewoo Group? How does that make sense?”
“Taewoo Group is planning to make Apple its permanent partner. Everything we develop together here will ultimately be for Apple. I’ll even stake my 20% ownership in Apple on that promise.”
“Fine, let’s say all of that is true. But what exactly do you expect me to do here?”
I needed his design philosophy.
And I was one of the few people who could truly understand it.
“Minimalism. That’s the design philosophy you pursue, isn’t it? I share the same philosophy as you.”
“Didn’t you just say it yourself? The Message Pad, which emphasized minimalism, was a product that didn’t fit its time.”
“Then let’s build that missing middle step together. And after that, you can return to Apple to create the next evolution of the Message Pad.”
“So you're asking me to work on this transitional phase of design with you?”
“I’ve already drafted some rough design sketches.”
I took out a few simple sketches.
A flip phone, a slide phone, and a smartphone.
They were blueprints for the mobile phones that would dominate the future—though at the moment, they looked vastly different from any phone in existence.
“What is this? Don’t tell me these are supposed to be phones.”
“My drawing skills aren’t great, so I couldn’t depict them properly. Wouldn’t you like to refine these designs?”
“With the current level of technology, this one seems feasible.”
He pointed directly at the flip phone.
It bore a striking resemblance to Motorola’s StarTAC, which was set to take the world by storm starting next year.
“Taewoo Electronics has been manufacturing mobile phones since the late ’80s. The technology is already in place. What we’ve lacked is innovative ideas. No matter what design you come up with, we have the capability to bring it to life. And if we ever lack the necessary technology, we’ll acquire it from other companies.”
“Even if it means using SAVE Investment’s funds?”
“I created SAVE Investment for this very moment.”
Taewoo Electronics was one of the first companies in Korea to develop mobile phones.
My grandfather’s foresight into the future had never been wrong.
It was only because his management strategy prioritized expansion over technological breakthroughs that the company had failed to flourish.
“Coming all the way to Korea, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m getting scammed. Fine, I’ll work under you for at least a year.”
“If you decide to return to Apple, I won’t stop you. In fact, when the time comes, even if you want to stay, I might just send you back anyway.”
“…But do you really think Apple can make a comeback?”
"That preparation is also progressing step by step. I'll explain it to you in detail later."
I extended my hand to Jonathan.
He hesitated for a moment before gripping my hand firmly.
"Just make sure I never have to hear that I'm a failed designer again."
"That won’t happen. And all intellectual property rights for the designs will belong to Taewoo Group."
"Well, since you drafted the initial designs, that only makes sense."
With that, Jonathan was officially on board.
I headed with him to the newly established patent task force.
Nearly fifty people were waiting for us in the conference room.
"I'm Minjae Kim, the director of the research institute. Some of you have transferred from the Economic Research Center, while others have traveled great distances to join us."
The researchers turned their heads to observe one another.
Among the new hires, there were a significant number of foreigners, creating a slightly awkward atmosphere.
"Your task is simple: take ideas and turn them into patents. We will register these patents not only in Korea but also in the U.S. and Europe simultaneously."
"Coming up with patent-worthy ideas isn't easy."
One researcher gathered the courage to speak up.
It seemed the broad nature of the task made them uneasy.
To ease their concerns, I displayed the idea drafts I had prepared over time.
From flip phones to smartphones.
These were ideas I had developed while studying in the U.S., and they outnumbered even the thickest textbooks.
"There is no shortage of ideas. Each time one of these ideas is successfully patented, a bonus will be given. Additionally, you will receive 5% of the profits generated from the patent."
Five percent wasn’t an exceptionally high reward.
Some companies offered up to 30%, depending on their policies.
However, since I was the one who had originally conceived these ideas, I couldn't offer such a large percentage.
"Five percent may seem small, but if someone patents an idea not included in this draft, I promise a reward of up to 30%."
"Would it be possible to form teams for the patent process?"
Park Jun-il, the lawyer, was the first to react.
Having worked at a major U.S. law firm, he understood that patent registration wasn’t as difficult as others might think.
"Of course. You can form teams as you wish, or if necessary, I can assign teams myself."
"How much exactly are the bonuses for successful patent registrations?"
"It varies depending on the difficulty level. Level 3 patents will earn 5 million won, Level 2 patents 10 million won, and Level 1 patents 30 million won."
The researchers turned back to the idea drafts.
In an instant, their expressions lit up with excitement.
They had just realized these drafts were a gold mine.
And just like that, a fierce competition broke out as they rushed to claim ideas.
For the sake of their bonuses, barriers of nationality and language instantly disappeared.
