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CH500 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-09-15 05:22:58 +0000 UTCManhattan, New York.
Under a clear, cloudless sky, the midday sunlight struck the glass windows of the towering One New York Plaza building by the ferry terminal, making them sparkle.
Seok-won, who had arrived in New York the day before, stood in front of the wide floor-to-ceiling window that stretched across one side of his private office, both hands tucked into his trouser pockets, gazing down at the scene beneath him.
The sight of ships, large and small, moving along the blue East River, and the distant view of Brooklyn across the water, felt like a vivid reminder of the success he had built so far.
Though he had already achieved enough to be called one of Wall Street’s heavyweights, the reflection of his face in the glass was filled with ambition that went far beyond this point—the ambition to become the emperor who would rule Wall Street, the very place where money from all over the world converged.
Just then, a light knock came at the door, and his secretary, Daisy, stepped inside.
“Mr. Landon and Mr. Andrew are here.”
“Show them in.”
Seok-won pulled his gaze away from the view outside and turned around.
“Yes, sir.”
Daisy, with her long, flowing black hair that only added to her charm, briefly stepped out again, and soon after, Landon and Andrew entered the private office together.
“Have you adjusted well to the time difference?” Landon asked in a cheerful tone.
Seok-won shrugged. “I’ve been travelling back and forth for years. Of course I’m fine.”
“Still, last time your biorhythm was completely off, and you suffered quite a bit, didn’t you?”
“That depends on my condition. Fortunately, this time I’m on the better side.”
Andrew, with his neatly combed hair and trademark suspenders, chimed in. “The day and night cycle is opposite between Seoul and New York, so normally it’s hard on anyone.”
Landon added brightly from beside him, “All the better that you’re feeling fine this time.”
“Let’s sit on the sofa and talk.”
“Yes.”
At Seok-won’s words, both men nodded in unison.
He moved toward the leather sofa set against one side of the spacious office. Taking the seat of honor in the middle, Seok-won sat down, and naturally, Landon and Andrew took their places on either side of him.
Soon after, Daisy brought in tea, set it on the table, and quietly left. Crossing one leg over the other, Seok-won looked at Landon and asked:
“I hear Google is planning a Series B funding round.”
Receiving his gaze, Landon leaned forward slightly and replied.
“That’s right. Their user base and search volume have grown far more explosively than expected—tens of thousands of searches a day. As a result, network traffic and server costs are rising sharply.”
Seok-won gave a slight nod.
“Compared to other portal sites, Google’s main advantage is fast search. Lately, I noticed it’s a little slower than before. So it’s because they can’t keep up with the traffic surge.”
Agreeing, Landon continued.
“The founders, Sergey and Larry, seem to recognize the issue. They’ve decided to pursue Series B funding to hire more staff and expand their servers significantly.”
“At present, their only revenue is the $2,000 a month from their contract to supply search results to Red Hat, plus some small fees from websites that integrate Google search. Additional funding is absolutely necessary.”
“Exactly. Their income doesn’t even reach $10,000 a month, while their expenses are far greater. They’re running losses of tens of thousands of dollars every month.”
Andrew naturally joined the conversation.
“As Google’s popularity grows and traffic surges, their cash burn rate has risen accordingly. By our calculations, they’ve probably already burned through nearly all of the $2 million you invested.”
With the spread of the internet and the dot-com boom, companies were receiving sky-high valuations despite earning little to no actual revenue. Google was hardly unique—most dot-com firms at the time faced the same situation.
One of the biggest reasons the massively inflated dot-com bubble burst was that profits were pitiful compared to the soaring stock prices.
It wasn’t until much later, when advertising-based revenue models were firmly established, that Google and other portal sites managed to escape their deficits.
But that was the future. For now, it was little more than pouring water into a bottomless jar.
Still, with the dot-com craze burning hotter than ever, investors were valuing growth potential over actual earnings, and as time went on, more and more market capital was flowing into dot-com companies.
Clearing his thoughts, Seok-won lifted the teacup in front of him, took a sip of coffee, then set it back down and asked:
“How much funding is Google asking for?”
Landon answered without hesitation.
“Twenty-five million dollars for a ten percent stake.”
“So they’re valuing the company at two hundred and fifty million.”
“That’s correct.”
At Landon’s words, Andrew frowned slightly.
“Google is certainly a fast-growing dot-com company, but for its valuation to jump more than 4,000% in less than a year—from just six million dollars to this—seems far too excessive.”
As Andrew openly voiced his skepticism, Landon seemed to share the sentiment. Glancing cautiously at Seok-won, he added,
“I also believe two hundred and fifty million is overpriced.”
At their negative responses, Seok-won asked calmly,
“They wouldn’t just throw out a number like that without a reason. What’s the basis for it?”
“Well…”
Landon straightened his posture, his expression tightening.
“I don’t think they truly believe Google is worth two hundred and fifty million. I suspect they’re doing this to attract investment from other venture capital firms rather than us.”
“What do you mean?”
Seok-won narrowed his eyes, prompting Landon to explain the situation more clearly.
“It seems that as Google’s rapid growth became evident, two major Silicon Valley venture capital firms approached them and made investment offers first.”
“Which firms?”
“Sequoia Capital and KPCB.”
The moment he heard the names, Seok-won clicked his tongue in irritation, his brow furrowing.
Founded in 1972, both Sequoia Capital and KPCB had been part of Silicon Valley since its earliest days. They had long histories and strong track records of investing in and growing numerous successful venture companies.
Originally, these were the very firms that went on to greater fame by investing in the likes of Netscape, PayPal, Cisco, and Amazon—the iconic dot-com companies I had already claimed first.
Because of his interference, they had missed out on many of the biggest IT giants and no longer held the same stature they once did before his regression. Still, they remained heavyweight venture capital firms, constantly jockeying for the number two spot in Silicon Valley.
The clear, undisputed number one, of course, was his own Eldorado Fund.
Quickly grasping the situation, Seok-won folded his arms across his chest.
“So, because we hold the right of first refusal, they’re throwing out an inflated valuation. If we walk away from additional investment, they’ll try to negotiate with those two firms.”
“That seems to be their intention.”
Andrew spoke with a bitter expression.
“You were the one who invested in them first when they had nothing. For them to try stabbing you in the back like this—it’s outrageous, don’t you think?”
Landon’s mood was no better; he nodded from the sofa opposite.
“To be honest, I’m also disappointed with the two founders’ behavior.”
But Seok-won didn’t lash out. Instead, he kept his composure, his demeanor calm and measured.
“From their perspective, holding thirty-three percent already, perhaps they were reluctant to let us take more shares.”
“You mean they’re afraid of losing control of the company?”
Seok-won nodded as he looked at Landon.
Andrew then raised his voice in disbelief.
“But we promised to guarantee the founders’ management rights, and we’ve kept that promise until now.”
“They probably started to feel wary after seeing us fully acquire Qualcomm,” Seok-won replied, leaning back in his chair.
Landon countered immediately.
“But we began buying up Qualcomm shares and fighting for control even before we signed our first investment deal with Google.”
“At the time, they probably didn’t consider it. But now, it must be weighing on them,” Seok-won said.
Landon sighed and smacked his lips.
“Now that you mention it, if we participate in Series B as well, our stake will exceed forty percent. From the founders’ perspective, it’s understandable they’d feel cautious.”
Andrew spoke grimly.
“If they accept additional investment from elsewhere, the number of shares will increase, diluting their stake. But even then, they’d still retain majority shareholder status. I suppose that’s enough for them.”
Just as the two were voicing their disappointment, Seok-won spoke casually, as if tossing out an afterthought.
“I never said I’d give up our right of first refusal.”
“…What?”
“What do you mean by that…?”
Landon and Andrew both widened their eyes in surprise.
“You’re not actually thinking of accepting such an absurd demand, are you?”
“Even if Google’s growth is steep, this is clearly an overpay.”
Both men reacted skeptically, convinced the valuation was excessive.
Of course, they couldn’t know that twenty years later, Google would swallow up the entire global search market and surpass a one trillion dollar market capitalization.
Nor could they imagine that, as one of the so-called Magnificent Seven—alongside Microsoft, Amazon, and Apple—Google would stand as one of the ultimate victors of the internet age. Compared to that, two hundred and fifty million was still a bargain.
“An overpay, you say. Is that really the case?”
“…?”
“The fact alone that Sequoia Capital and KPCB—the second most powerful firms in Silicon Valley—are both competing to get in proves that Google is a venture with extraordinary potential. That much is beyond dispute.”
Andrew adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and replied.
“I admit that Google is like a lottery ticket with high winning odds. But with Yahoo already in the lead, excessive investment will eat into returns while also increasing the risks we’ll have to shoulder.”
A quick glance sideways showed that Landon seemed to agree.
Fingers interlaced, Seok-won spoke with deliberate seriousness.
“No one knows better than you two on Wall Street just how fierce and scorching the dot-com boom really is.”
His voice was low but carried clearly through the room.
“Look at Yahoo, another portal site. Its market cap has surged repeatedly and is now on the verge of breaking fifty billion dollars.”
The two men nodded at once.
Eldorado Fund had invested before Yahoo went public and held a massive forty percent stake, so they knew exactly how high its stock had climbed.
“If Google continues its smooth growth and goes public, even if it’s valued at only half of Yahoo, that would put it at twenty-five billion dollars. Of course, you can’t calculate it this simply, but even if the IPO price comes in lower than that, it will still far exceed the valuation Google is demanding now.”
Ordinarily, they would have dismissed this as overly optimistic.
But with the dot-com boom in full swing and liquidity flooding the market, it was the kind of era where simply attaching “.com” to a company’s name could send its stock soaring. In that light, Seok-won’s words sounded entirely plausible.
“…Even if it doesn’t reach twenty-five billion, an IPO that values Google at just one billion would still be a jackpot,” Landon admitted.
Andrew let out a thoughtful hum, his expression softening slightly.
“I still believe the valuation is inflated, but if we take a stock listing into account, it looks like a worthwhile bet.”
Seeing their attitudes shift in a positive direction, Seok-won straightened his posture and made his decision.
“Then inform Google that we’ll handle the entire Series B investment ourselves.”
Landon grinned.
“They’re probably assuming we’ll back out. If we agree to their terms outright, the two founders will be completely blindsided.”
“In return, make sure to reaffirm our promise that we’ll guarantee their management rights.”
“Understood. But once a seed of distrust has been planted, it’ll be hard to go back to the way things were.”
“Hmm…”
Seok-won fell silent in thought, then spoke again.
“Then tell them this will be the last time. After this, we’ll waive our right of first refusal.”
The sudden decision left both men staring at him in shock.
“Is that really necessary?” Andrew asked, trying to dissuade him.
But Seok-won did not waver from his choice.
“We’re at the stage where the company is about to scale up in earnest. Wasting energy on unnecessary disputes would only be a distraction, don’t you think?”
“That may be true, but…”
“It’s better to make it clear that we have no designs on management. That way, the founders can focus solely on running the company without worrying about us. In the end, that benefits us too.”
A confident smile tugged at his lips.
“Other venture capital firms may come in and dilute our shares, but even then, with what we already hold, we’ll remain the major shareholder and secure more than enough profit.”
“If that’s your view, we’ll follow it.”
“They valued the equity at $250 million this round. By the next, the price will only rise. In that sense, your approach may indeed be the wiser one.”
It was tempting to want more shares while the price was still relatively low, especially knowing how much higher Google’s value would eventually soar.
But there was nothing more foolish than killing the goose that laid the golden eggs out of greed. For now, they would be content.
‘The true value of Google lies in its two founders. There’s no need to stir up needless anxiety.’
With that thought, Seok-won stroked his chin.
