CH149 | Heir

Steve and I walked through Apple’s Product Planning Room, discussing ideas as we moved.

The room showcased Apple’s entire history—from the original Macintosh to the recently launched iPhone.

Standing in the middle, I spread my arms wide.

“Doesn’t something feel… missing?”

“What exactly do you think is missing?”

“There’s too big a gap between the Mac and the iPhone. There’s no product that bridges the two.”

“Are you talking about a laptop? We’re already developing one. We’ve even decided on a name—MacBook.”

Of course, Apple had been a PC company from the start, so it made sense that they were working on a laptop.

But knowing Apple, they were likely focusing on high-end models, which meant portability would be an issue.

“Are you planning to refine the PowerBook or iBook into a laptop?”

“The MacBook is going to be completely different from previous models. We’re actually developing two versions—one for professionals and another for general consumers.”

I had, of course, heard of the MacBook before.

I had even used one myself and knew that it would gain a massive fan base in the years to come.

But that wasn’t what I was aiming for.

I was about to introduce a completely new product—one that hadn’t even entered development yet.

“A MacBook is still a laptop. That means we still don’t have anything to bridge the gap between the iPhone and a MacBook.”

“Enough beating around the bush. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“The iPhone already uses a touchscreen. So why not apply the same concept to a larger device? If we replace keyboards and mouse with a touchscreen interface, we could create something much more compact.”

I had just planted the idea of the iPad.

If I had already accelerated the release of the iPhone, then why not do the same for the iPad?

“You’re asking me to revive one of Apple’s biggest failures. We’ve already tried making a device like that—it was called the MessagePad, and it was an absolute disaster.”

“The MessagePad failed because it was too ahead of its time. But things are different now. A tablet computer can do so much more.”

To be fair, the MessagePad’s failure had nearly dragged Apple into ruin.

So Steve’s skepticism was completely understandable.

“If I even suggest this, the board of directors will have a meltdown. Are you sure about this?”

“The fact that you’re even worried about the board tells me you actually want to make this.”

“The technology from the MessagePad is already there. That means we wouldn’t have to pour in too much money to develop a tablet-style computer.”

“I have absolute confidence that this will succeed. Forget the board—just trust your instincts and go for it.”

Steve fell silent.

He walked over to the MessagePad, which was displayed in the corner of the room.

For a long time, he ran his fingers over its surface, lost in thought.

Finally, he spoke.

“What if we make the screen color, add music and video playback, and keep the handwriting recognition feature so students and professionals can use it?”

“The MessagePad and iPod technologies, combined with the iPhone’s OS, would make development costs almost negligible. This is a low-risk product—so is there really any reason to hesitate?”

In truth, the iPad wasn’t some groundbreaking innovation that needed to be invented from scratch.

It was simply a clever combination of existing technologies—but one that had the potential to create an entirely new market.

“You’re right,” Steve said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “This would be the perfect addition to Apple’s currently incomplete product lineup! I don’t know why I even bothered meditating. Just a few minutes of talking with you, and the ideas are practically pouring out!”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“But I feel like I’m only taking ideas from you. If there’s anything I can do to help you, just say the word.”

Of course, I hadn’t suggested the iPad purely out of generosity.

Once it launched, some of the key patents inside it would be owned by Taewoo Electronics, which meant royalty payments.

But this wasn’t just about royalties.

“I do have one favor to ask.”

“Anything. After the ideas you’ve given me for the iPhone 2 and the iPad, it’s the least I can do.”

“I want to collaborate with Apple on a TV.”

“A TV? You mean like Taewoo Electronics’ internet TV?”

“Yes. I want to combine Apple’s aesthetics with Taewoo’s technology to create something entirely new.”

Up until now, I had focused on building Apple up.

But now that Apple was strong enough, it was time to use them.

“Hmm… Apple doesn’t make TVs.”

“But what is a TV, really? These days, people watch videos on their PCs and iPhones just as much as on televisions.”

“So what’s so special about making a TV together?”

“This wouldn’t be just any TV. It would be a TV that seamlessly integrates with all of Apple’s products.”

To be honest, I didn’t really care about making a TV itself.

What I wanted was Apple’s image.

Taewoo Electronics, despite its technological advancements, still had a somewhat outdated reputation.

To shed that image, I needed to wrap Taewoo in Apple’s sleek, modern branding.

“We can handle the design and software, but TV manufacturing would have to be handled by Taewoo Electronics,” Steve said.

“Of course. Apple can fully control the design, while Taewoo will focus purely on the hardware and set-top box development.”

“And how do you propose we split the shares?”

“I propose a 70:30 split in Apple’s favor. In return, Taewoo will cover all development costs.”

On the surface, this deal might seem disadvantageous for us.

After all, Taewoo Electronics would be producing the TV, and Apple was merely providing the design, yet they’d still be getting 30% of the shares.

But in the grand scheme of things, it was far from a loss.

This wasn’t just about hardware sales—our real profit would come from content distribution.

And Apple’s brand power was a form of marketing investment.

Breaking into a TV market dominated by Samsung and CL required an enormous marketing budget, and giving Apple 30% ownership was essentially a strategic cost.

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse,” Steve said, nodding approvingly. “Honestly, I almost feel guilty. This deal is too favorable for us.”

“Don’t worry. I fully intend to make up for it.”

It didn’t matter if Apple got a good deal—because in the end, I was Apple’s majority shareholder.

With over 60% ownership of Apple, even if I handed over 30% of the Apple-Taewoo TV shares, I was technically only giving away 10% in real terms.

“I’ll set up a new TV division and send a team to Korea. The finer details can be handled by our respective managers, though I’ll still oversee the bigger picture. But my main focus has to remain on iPhone 2 and the tablet project.”

“That’s more than enough.”

I pulled out the pre-prepared contract, and Steve handed it over to Apple’s legal team.

Since the deal was completely risk-free for Apple, their lawyers approved it almost instantly.

By sunset, Steve and I had signed the agreement.

Back at SAVE Investments, I was barely through the door when Team Leader Han greeted me like a long-lost relative.

“Sir! What took you so long? I was waiting so long I thought my neck would snap!”

“Why the overreaction? What’s going on?”

“The phones won’t stop ringing! The firms that sold us their Apple shares are going crazy!”

“Just ignore them. It’s not like we forced them to sell. They were the ones who practically begged us to buy their shares.”

“They’re accusing us of knowing about the iPhone launch in advance and manipulating the market!”

“They didn’t say a word when Apple revealed it at CES, but now they want to complain? That’s just shameless. Ignore them.”

Maintaining good relations with Wall Street was important.

But that didn’t mean we had to keep playing the fool.

We had been too accommodating—and now they were acting like they were entitled to something.

“…Are you sure that’s wise?” Han asked hesitantly.

"Then, ask them if they’re thinking about buying other IT company stocks again. That’ll make them back down."

The dot-com bubble still hadn't fully burst.

This was also why, despite the iPhone’s massive success, Apple’s stock had only risen fivefold.

In such a climate, no investment firm was willing to take on additional IT company stocks.

"Well, I didn’t even bring up the topic of other IT company stocks."

"Of course not. IT companies are still struggling. By the way, have you heard from Jeffrey?"

"He’s called a few times, complaining about his situation."

Amazon, the company Jeffrey founded, was also an IT firm.

Its stock, once close to $5, had plummeted to just $0.50, so it was no surprise he was under a lot of stress.

"I’d like to see Jeffrey’s face after all this time."

"If you contact him now, he’ll probably rush over immediately. He’s been dying to meet you."

"Then call him now. I need to see how much he’s been struggling."

Han’s words weren’t an exaggeration.

Less than an hour after being contacted, Jeffrey arrived at the office, his complexion pale and ashen.

"I thought you’d forgotten about me. Every time you come to the U.S., you visit Apple’s headquarters, but why have you never set foot in Amazon? Especially when you hold such a significant stake in the company?"

"Have a glass of cold water first."

I offered the excited Jeffrey some water.

Only after gulping it down did he finally calm himself.

"I heard that Amazon might turn a profit in the second half of this year. Is that true?"

"We expect about $5 million in net profit. It’s not much, but at least we’re finally escaping the red."

"A CEO running a company with over a billion dollars in revenue shouldn’t be complaining this much."

Amazon was growing at an astonishing rate.

Despite taking a direct hit from the dot-com crash, its revenue was actually increasing, with annual growth exceeding 15%.

"We’re spending most of our revenue on building fulfillment centers. And the labor costs… don’t even get me started."

"Labor costs are definitely an issue. Taewoo Group is also struggling with that problem."

Jeffrey had a reputation as a ruthless manager.

He was infamous for choosing to call an ambulance rather than install air conditioning in his warehouses because it was cheaper.

With that kind of cost-cutting mentality, it was no wonder Amazon had seized 50% of the U.S. logistics market.

"At least Korea has it a little better. Do you know how much it costs to hire workers in the U.S.?"

"Of course I do."

We continued our conversation for a while, bonded by our shared frustration over labor costs.

Jeffrey, seemingly needing to vent, poured out all his grievances about the issue without pause.

"If I could cut labor costs, I’d even make a deal with the devil."

"Forget the devil. How about making a deal with Taewoo Group instead?"

I hadn’t called Jeffrey just to comfort him.

Amazon had grown enough—it was time to start reaping the rewards.