The Youngest Son of Sunyang

As I rushed out of the library, a vast campus stretched before me.

Damn it, another profanity is about to escape my lips.

How can a university be so ignorant? It seems like it will take more time to find the computer science office than to search for research papers.

I later found out that Stanford's campus spans 3,310 hectares, similar in size to Songpa-gu, which means finding an office relying solely on a single signpost is no different from navigating in Songpa-gu.

With so many buildings named after donors, there are even cases where several buildings share the same name, and each time I ask students, they point me in a different direction.

If I ever meet those two, I should urge them to create Google Maps as soon as possible.

When I finally found the computer science office and asked about the whereabouts of the two people, it felt like the sky was falling.

"They used to live in the dorms not too long ago, but moved to Silicon Valley."

Did I miss something? Have they already received investment for their startup?

Google is truly desperate.

At times like this, a quick search would provide enough information about the situation. I could truly appreciate how remarkable Google, created by these two individuals, was.

"Could you please tell me the address?"

The office worker gave me a skeptical look before quickly writing down the address on a piece of paper.

Isn't Stanford always welcoming to investors?

The employee wrote even faster than when he retrieved my business card, jotting down the address on a memo pad.

I clutched the note and hurriedly left, taking the campus shuttle to leave the university.

I hailed a taxi and rushed to Silicon Valley, a 20-minute drive away.

When I arrived at the provided address, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a quiet residential area.

These guys.

They haven't moved out of the garage yet.

I cautiously approached and peeked into the garage.

Several desks, computers, scattered beverage cans, and pizza boxes were strewn about.

I felt relieved. Their modest setup confirmed that they hadn't received significant investment yet.

I sat down in front of the closed garage, waiting for the two of them to appear. If they're running a startup from their garage, it's only natural for them to eat and sleep there, but where else could they be...

As it started to get dark, a pickup truck pulled up in front of the garage.

Two young men noticed me and quickly approached.

"Who are you? What are you doing in front of someone's office?"

"Larry Page? Sergey Brin?"

As I alternated my gaze between the two, confirming their names, their expressions grew more hostile.

If I had been an elderly middle-aged man in a suit, they would have probably groveled immediately. They would have sensed that I was an investor who could potentially rescue them.

"Who are you? What's going on?"

"You still can't see? Both of you have poor eyesight."

"What?"

"I'm talking about the wings spread out on my back. Some call them angel's wings."

If they couldn't understand this, they were worse than clueless engineering students. However, the two of them had better intuition than that.

"Well, surely not?"

They dropped the pack of beer they were holding. The opportunity they had longed for had finally arrived, but it must have been hard for them to believe that a younger Asian would be their angel investor.

"How long are you going to be surprised? Let's go inside. I've been wandering all day, and my throat is dry. You'll offer me at least one beer, won't you?"

"This is a friend's garage. He works at Intel."

As I took a sip of beer to wet my throat, the two of them glanced at me and finally spoke.

"But who are you really? Are you really an investor?"

To make the conversation flow smoothly, they needed to trust me completely, without any preconceived notions based on my young age and Asian ethnicity.

As I pondered with the beer can at my lips, a very simple idea occurred to me.

It was the best way to make them look at me with awe and respect.

"Wait a moment. Can this phone be used as a speaker?"

When I pointed to the phone on the desk, both of them nodded their heads.

"Then let's make a call."

I took out my mobile phone and scanned through the contacts to find the name I was looking for.

I turned on the speaker and dialed the number immediately. After a while of the signal tone ringing, a voice came through.

"Hello, this is Michael."

"Michael. How have you been? It's Howard. Howard Jin."

"Wow! Howard. How long has it been? Are you in the United States by any chance?"

A voice filled with unmistakable joy resonated through the speaker.

"Yes, I am. I'm in California right now. I'll come to see you when I finish work. But before that, there's something I'd like to ask..."

"Anything, just say it."

"There are two people listening to this call. They are the individuals I want to invest in. However, they keep looking at me with suspicion."

"Hahaha. Well, well. If Howard has found this person, I too want to invest right away, too!"

I looked at the two who were eavesdropping on the call with perked-up ears and said. "Introduce yourselves. It's Mr. Michael Dell."

"Dell...? Dell! That Dell?"

I nodded my head and said to the speaker. "Michael, feel free to talk. But be brief."

Leaving the bewildered faces of the two behind, I left the garage.

It was already dark outside.

I took out my phone and informed Rachel and my father that I wouldn't be coming back tonight.

Damn it.

I left the amazing Ritz-Carlton hotel suite behind and ended up staying in a motel in Silicon Valley tonight. It felt like a huge waste of money.

About thirty minutes later, the two of them called me.

It seemed like they had obtained all the information they wanted. I spoke while still on the call.