As the Korean autumn of 1996 deepened, Min-jun's multi-faceted preparations intensified. His financial fortresses were solid, his media influence subtle yet pervasive. Now, he turned his strategic gaze toward the very bedrock of long-term national policy and intellectual development: academia. He understood that true, lasting power wasn't just about financial might or media sway; it was about shaping the minds that would govern, regulate, and innovate decades into the future. He sought to influence the intellectual currents of the nation, planting seeds for a more resilient post-crisis future.
Min-jun orchestrated a significant, yet entirely anonymous donation to Seoul National University (SNU), the nation's most prestigious academic institution. The proposal accompanying the funds was meticulously crafted: it called for the establishment of a "Future Economics Lab," a forward-thinking research center dedicated to exploring new economic paradigms and anticipating future global challenges.
Mr. Park, tasked with handling the complex bureaucratic dance, found himself navigating a thrilled but utterly bewildered university administration. "Mr. Park," the Dean of Economics had exclaimed over a particularly opulent lunch, "this anonymous benefactor… they are truly visionary! But they insist on no recognition? And the focus on 'emergent economic stressors' and 'adaptive market theories' is quite… unique for a 1996 curriculum. Are you sure they don't want a statue?" Mr. Park, ever the picture of discreet efficiency, simply smiled. "The benefactor, Professor, values scholarly freedom above all else. Their only desire is to foster genuine, unconstrained intellectual inquiry." He ensured the donation's origins were layered behind shell corporations, rendering its source utterly untraceable.
With the lab established, Min-jun turned his attention to selecting its inaugural cohort of researchers. He dismissed traditional academic metrics like grades and standardized test scores as insufficient for identifying true innovation. Instead, leveraging Pulse's subtle insights and his own keen observations, he sought students who exhibited "emergent behavior." These were individuals with an intuitive grasp of complex systems, a flair for creative problem-solving, lateral thinking, and an exceptional capacity for adaptability—the very traits he knew would be crucial in a rapidly changing, post-crisis world.
He designed unconventional assessments: intricate logical puzzles that rewarded unconventional solutions, open-ended research proposals that demanded foresight, and group dynamics simulations that tested leadership in ambiguous scenarios. Baek Ji-hoon, now a key apprentice in Min-jun's inner circle, assisted him in screening the myriad applicants. Her refined pattern-recognition skills allowed her to intuitively grasp Min-jun's subtle cues for identifying nascent genius. "This student," Ji-hoon would observe, pointing to a candidate's portfolio, "doesn't just answer the question; they question the framework. They see the hidden assumptions."
The lab's director was a crucial appointment. Min-jun subtly influenced the university's choice, leading them to Professor Jang, a highly respected but somewhat old-world economist. Professor Jang was a scholar of historical economic cycles, deeply principled, but initially viewed the "Future Economics Lab" with a healthy dose of academic skepticism. He preferred the solidity of established theory over speculative "future trends."
Min-jun orchestrated his first meeting with Professor Jang, positioning himself as a brilliant, prodigious young financial consultant eager to support the lab's vision, with Mr. Park serving as his seemingly unassuming "guardian." Professor Jang, initially intrigued by the young man's precocity, quickly became captivated by Min-jun's profound insights. Min-jun would subtly introduce "hypothetical" future economic scenarios that precisely mirrored the coming crisis, guiding Professor Jang to formulate solutions that would, unbeknownst to him, prove incredibly prescient. The irony was palpable: the distinguished old professor, believing himself to be the mentor, was in fact being subtly guided by his brilliant, much younger, "mentee."
"Professor," Min-jun might muse during one of their discussions, feigning youthful curiosity, "if a nation were to become overly reliant on short-term foreign capital for rapid growth, what might be the long-term systemic vulnerabilities? And how could a society prepare for such a drastic shock?" Professor Jang, stimulated by the challenge, would dive deep into his theories, unknowingly building the very frameworks Min-jun needed.
Under Min-jun's influence, often directly through "collaborations" with Professor Jang, the Future Economics Lab began a covert, groundbreaking project: drafting highly detailed policy proposals for Korea's post-IMF recovery. This was happening in mid-1996, a full two years before the actual crisis would necessitate such drastic measures and before the IMF bailout.
These meticulously researched proposals covered everything from structural reforms for over-leveraged chaebols, to industrial realignment strategies focusing on future-proof sectors, to the establishment of robust social safety nets for mass unemployment, and even specific recommendations for financial market deregulation to attract ethical foreign investment. They were designed to address the precise weaknesses the 1997 crisis would expose, offering solutions that would appear almost miraculous in their foresight when the time came. Professor Jang, convinced he was merely engaging in profound academic speculation, found himself formulating policy that would redefine his nation.
These groundbreaking policy documents were not intended for immediate public release. Instead, Min-jun orchestrated their discreet dissemination. The detailed proposals were leaked subtly into influential think-tanks across Asia, always via untraceable digital channels and anonymous couriers managed by Mr. Park and Seo-jin. This ensured that the ideas circulated among policymakers, economic advisors, and opinion-makers, becoming part of the intellectual discourse well before the crisis hit.
The aim was clear: when the inevitable economic collapse forced nations to seek solutions, these "brilliant insights," seemingly emerging organically from the academic and policy community, would be readily available. They would appear as the logical conclusions of the best minds, rather than radical external suggestions. Min-jun was planting seeds of recovery and future influence, quietly shaping the intellectual landscape for the decades to come, even as the nation remained blissfully unaware of the impending storm.