TOIGC 18

Chapter 18…

$1,500 in Starting Capital (3)

Bill Gates, the two employees behind him, and even Brigadier General Colson were thoroughly stunned. Ryu Geuntae was relatively less shocked, but even he stared in wide-eyed, speechless disbelief, clearly never imagining such a massive figure would be brought to the table.

‘Surely, the kid just misspoke, right?’

While Yoongi spoke English reasonably well for an Asian kid his age, his delivery was noticeably clumsy. And honestly, how could it not be? Although he was learning from Ryu Geuntae, Ryu wasn’t a native speaker either, and their tutoring sessions were brief. Most of Yoongi’s progress came from self-study, making a bit of awkwardness completely natural. So, Bill Gates figured the boy had meant to say $700—or $7,000 at most—and had simply botched the vocabulary. Smiling once more, he tried to clear it up.

“Right, so you want to invest $700?”

The others in the room nodded along, their smiles returning.

[Yeah, we definitely just misheard him.]

Yoongi, however, looked genuinely puzzled and promptly corrected the number.

“No. $700,000.”

Bill Gates adjusted his glasses with his right hand, took a piece of paper and a pen from an employee, and slid them over to Yoongi.

“Why don’t you write it down in numbers for me?” “Sure!”

Taking the pen, Yoongi began writing, and Bill Gates watched the digits form on the page intently.

7 70 700

‘Yeah, it’s got to be $700, right?’ Then came a comma.

700,

‘Ah, maybe he’s talking in his home country’s currency?’

He could have sworn he heard the word ‘dollars,’ but Bill Gates trusted his experience-driven logic over his own hearing.

700,000

‘Right, there’s bound to be some other currency symbol attached to the end, not dollars.’

Yet the very foundation of Bill Gates’ logic—the common sense he had built up his entire life—shattered into pieces.

$700,000

“This is how much I’m going to invest!”

Looking at the paper with its flawless numbers and dollar sign, Bill Gates turned his gaze toward Brigadier General Colson first.

“Ah, my maternal grandson happens to be the eldest grandson of one of Korea’s top 100 conglomerates. I’m not sure if he has that entire amount on hand right this second, but he certainly has the ability to pay it.”

Hearing those words, Bill Gates looked back at Yoongi.

“I can pay it. I can pay $200,000 right away, and as for the remaining $500,000, I’ll invest $100,000 a year over the next five years.”

While studying business, Yoongi had developed a fond appreciation for the concept of ‘anchor shock.’ It wasn’t a formal business term, of course, but he had come to realize just how often he had been hit with that tactic throughout his past life.

‘Whenever they promised to raise my wages at construction sites, they’d dangle a huge number first, only to nickel-and-dime every little deduction out of it behind my back.’

It was the exact scheme contractors used on him and his fellow day laborers whenever they complained or asked for a raise. And now, he was pulling that exact move on Microsoft. What if Yoongi had started by mentioning $200,000 first, and then brought up an additional $500,000 investment later? It wouldn’t have landed with anywhere near the same jaw-dropping impact as throwing out $700,000 right off the bat.

“Umm… well… $700,000 is seven times our company’s revenue from last year. Are you really saying you want to invest that much in us?” “Yes! You just said you’d accept it even as a personal investment. I really want to invest in this company.”

Bill Gates hurriedly shook his head.

“No, no. This goes way beyond what I can accept as a simple personal investment. I mean, this isn’t just a fan-and-creator relationship anymore—it’s an owner and investor relationship. Or rather, it becomes one.”

Bill Gates’ tone shifted abruptly, becoming exceptionally polite as if speaking in an official corporate setting.

“Mister, please show the documents to Mr. Gates.”

At Yoongi’s request, Ryu Geuntae handed over the financial documents he had prepared in advance. As Bill Gates reviewed them, his hands began to tremble.

‘To think there was someone out there who recognized my potential to this extent… Not my parents, not my grandfather, not anyone in America, but someone from a tiny country right next to Japan…’

Contrary to popular belief, Bill Gates didn’t come from a poor family—he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father was the head of Seattle’s top law firm, his mother was a corporate board member at First Interstate Bank System, and his grandfather was a wealthy bank founder who could afford to gift him a Porsche. Yet even those people hadn’t offered ‘an investment matching their wealth’ toward Bill Gates’ true dream. They wanted him to graduate from Harvard and run down the smooth track they had laid out for him, not start some computer company. Sure, being wealthy meant they offered a degree of support, and their connections certainly proved useful later during lawsuits with companies like IBM. But right now in 1977, when Yoongi sought him out, Bill Gates was definitely not receiving financial backing that matched his family’s immense wealth.

“Let me ask you once more. Our company is currently a small operation with a revenue of just $100,000. Do you still want to invest?” “Yes. I just want to make the absolute biggest investment I can in the person who is doing what I love, but can’t do myself.”

As their conversation reached this point, one of the employees who had been standing quietly leaned in to whisper to Bill Gates.

“Bill, this amount is way too big. In a worst-case scenario, we could lose control of the company. It’s one thing to get backing from your parents, but taking this kind of money from a kid seems way too risky. The kid might not have any hidden motives, but who knows what the adults around him might push him to do later?” “Paul, you make a fair point, but if we take this investment right now, it’ll give us some serious breathing room in our lawsuit with MITS. We wouldn’t need to rely on my parents’ connections or money at all.” “Still…”

One of the employees standing silently in the back was none other than Paul Allen. And the other was Steve Ballmer. Even though Ballmer was still three years away from officially joining Microsoft, he had been visiting his friend’s company when he heard a U.S. Army Brigadier General was dropping by. Intrigued, he stuck around to watch. Yoongi, of course, had no idea about any of this. He only recognized ‘older Bill Gates’ from TV, newspapers, and books, which allowed him to spot a young Bill Gates, but recognizing Paul and Steve was way beyond his abilities. After all, unless you’re talking about legendary runner-ups, people rarely remember who came in second place.

“Steve, what do you think?”

When Bill Gates whispered to Steve, the latter pondered for a moment before offering his thoughts.

“Draft up a contract first, and let’s try adding a clause to protect our management rights. If they reject it, we can lower the investment amount and test the waters again. If we still can’t reach an agreement, we can just walk away, right? It’s not like he’s a total stranger—his grandfather is a U.S. Army Brigadier General, plus Professor Anderson recommended him, so it should be fine. Besides, if this investment helps the company grow, your parents and grandfather might offer a real investment down the line instead of us having to beg for aid.” “Got it, I’ll give that a try.”

Sending the two back to the rear, Bill Gates spoke up cautiously.

“In that case, shall we draft up an investment contract? Should I discuss the terms with this gentleman?”

When he pointed to Ryu Geuntae, Yoongi nodded.

“Just for the basic details. Though I’d like to know what’s in it too, of course.”

Bill Gates nodded and immediately began drafting the investment agreement with Ryu Geuntae. If this were an investment deal or an M&A between giant corporations, it would have dragged on over days of tedious negotiations. But this was a massive, unilateral investment into a small business, so it didn’t take long at all. A staff member acting as an advisor stepped in to make a few tweaks along the way, but even that moved quickly.

“As a special provision, I’d like to discuss management rights… Since this amount vastly exceeds our revenue, we’d like to guarantee our operational autonomy in that regard.”

Bill Gates brought up revenue, but thinking in terms of net profit, the amount Yoongi was investing was truly staggering. Assuming Microsoft’s net profit margin was around 10 percent, Yoongi was effectively pledging an amount equal to 70 times their net profit. Yoongi’s current allowance—equivalent to the salary of the president of Cheil Spinning—was by no means small. On top of that, he had been multiplying it through various means over the past two years and three months. Since he had zero intention of squandering money on luxuries, he had channeled practically 100 percent of it into investments, ballooning it into a substantial sum—with plenty of help from his mother, Park Yeonji, and more recently, Ryu Geuntae. Because of that, Yoongi had no trouble making this investment even while buying up land back home, but for Bill Gates, the sheer size of the figure was overwhelming.

“How much autonomy are you referring to?”

Following Yoongi’s question, Ryu Geuntae added a brief clarification.

“He’s asking out of pure curiosity, so please don’t feel pressured.”

After gathering his thoughts for a moment, Bill Gates answered.

“I mean running the company according to our own vision. We’ve had our own way of doing things, and if a strong outside opinion suddenly comes crashing in, it could destroy our team’s morale.” “Isn’t that obvious? I like computers, but I don’t know much about them. You know them inside and out though. So naturally, you should be the one running the company.”

At Yoongi’s words, relief washed over the faces of Bill Gates, Paul, and Steve alike.

“So does that mean I won’t get any updates on what’s happening with the company?”

Bill Gates hastily shook his head.

“Not at all. Even though we aren’t a publicly traded company, you’ll essentially be our majority shareholder. Whenever major developments happen—or once a month if you prefer—we can send you status updates on the company by mail.”

“Sounds great! But there’s one favor I’d like to ask.” “What is it?”

Setting a slightly relieved Bill Gates at ease, Yoongi laid the groundwork for his most crucial move.

“From what you’re saying, if we don’t make a promise beforehand, someone who invests a lot of money can interfere with the company, right?” “That’s correct.” “Which means heavy investors could team up or clash, pushing conflicting opinions onto the company?” “Precisely.”

Ryu Geuntae chimed in from the side.

“The young master is currently studying management to prepare for his future succession. You can consider his knowledge roughly equivalent to a sophomore business student.”

At Ryu Geuntae’s comment, Bill Gates was slightly taken aback and listened closely to Yoongi. Had he heard this while discussing management autonomy earlier, his guard wouldn’t have dropped so easily.

“If I’m understanding this right, what you’re worried about is me monopolizing share equity and making things hard for the company. So how about this? When the company issues new shares to existing shareholders, my preemptive rights will be capped at 49 percent. On top of that, we can add a special clause stating that for new share issuances via rights offerings, I won’t hold voting rights. Framing it as a restriction on voting rights rather than an outright exclusion should give you the exact type of investment you’re looking for.”

Under Yoongi’s terms, his ownership stake right after the investment would hit 99 percent, but through continuous dilutive rounds, it would eventually drop below 50 percent. However, since Yoongi would still acquire up to 49 percent of any new shares issued along the way, he remained the most likely candidate to stay Microsoft’s largest shareholder in the long run. After all, monopolizing equity was pointlessly counterproductive if it sapped Bill Gates’ drive to run the business. From Yoongi’s perspective, it was a condition that yielded reasonable concessions while securing maximum long-term upside. From Bill Gates’ perspective, it was an extraordinarily friendly investment for a small company like Microsoft.

“Give us just a moment.”

Bill Gates turned back to Paul and Steve, who both pondered briefly before nodding in agreement. While $700,000 was a massive sum right now, under these terms, the company could easily catch up as it scaled.

“Alright, let’s do it that way.” “Also, since Microsoft isn’t publicly traded yet, I’d like to make dividend payouts mandatory until an IPO. How about a payout ratio of around 35 percent relative to net profit?”

Since unlisted shares were effectively worth no more than scrap paper without dividends, Bill Gates couldn’t really refuse this clause either. Paul and Steve standing behind him nodded in agreement as well. “We can agree to that.” “Lastly, I’d like to keep the fact that I invested a complete secret.” “A secret…?”

At Bill Gates’ question, Yoongi nodded.

“Yes. I’d hate for attention to be drawn to me instead of you. I want to watch the path you forge, not steal your spotlight.” “Are you sure it’s really better to keep it secret?” “Yes.”

At Yoongi’s firm reaffirmation, Bill Gates nodded.

“Understood.”

Rising from his seat, Bill Gates extended a hand to Yoongi, and the boy wrapped his tiny hand around his.

“Can I call you Big Brother?”

At Yoongi’s sudden question, Bill Gates scrambled internally for how to react to his major shareholder, but seeing Paul and Steve nodding encouragingly behind him, he broke into a warm grin.

“Sure, kiddo—I mean, Yoongi. I’ll be counting on you from now on.”

It was the moment a life where he couldn’t even shake hands with a convenience store cashier transformed into a life where he shook hands with the future richest man in the world.