SBS's "Story of the Day When Biting the Tail" (hereinafter "Kokomu"), hosted by the "Jang Trio"—Jang Hyun-sung, Jang Sung-kyu, and Jang Do-yeon—revisits tales of "that day" in history that we should never forget. For those who missed the broadcast or want to reflect on the story once more, SBS Entertainment News rounds it all up in one place.
The story of "that day" we want to share with "you" this time is the episode titled
"Reply, Freedom and Challenge!"
broadcast on September 17. The storytelling guests were Tony An of H.O.T., actor Han So-eun, and comedian Kim Hyo-jin. (In keeping with the storytelling style of "Kokomu," this review is written in an informal, conversational tone.)
▲ Love Rides the Waves of the Internet
The date was February 23, 2003. Lee Si-eon, a 22-year-old living in Bucheon, was walking along the bustling streets of Sinchon late in the afternoon. Having counted down the days for weeks in anticipation of this very day, Si-eon paid extra attention to his hair and dressed in his finest, sharpest clothes. He looked somewhat nervous. Where could Si-eon be headed right now?
Passing dazzling neon signs and crowded, noisy streets, he stopped in front of a two-story pub. As he climbed the stairs to the second floor, a group of about 20 people was gathered there. Si-eon hesitated before walking up to greet them. Everyone warmly welcomed him without hesitation, leaving Si-eon flustered. Why? Because these were people he was meeting for the very first time today. Before he even had time to catch his breath, a drink was placed in his hand.
Then someone said, "Looks like everyone is here, so let's get started." A cake appeared from somewhere, and everyone sang the birthday song together:
"Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday, dear twins~ Happy birthday to you~"
"Everyone, happy birthday to all of us!"
Wait, twenty people gathered together, and they're twins? What was going on? Every single one of the twenty people gathered here—including Si-eon—shared a birthday today. Furthermore, without exception, they were all 22-year-old peers. People born on February 23, 1982, had gathered in one place.
"Back then, we often referred to ourselves as twins. Friends born on February 23, 1982. Literally twins. What was fascinating was that it wasn't just limited to Seoul; we had friends from Busan, Changnyeong, Gumi—people from all over the country."
-Lee Si-eon, Member of the 820223 Twins Gathering
As many as twenty people sharing the exact same date of birth gathered from across the nation. How on earth did they end up meeting? Let me tell you how Si-eon found these "twins."
Through a nostalgic computer—they met through an online community. Si-eon stumbled across this community by chance while using his computer. The community was named "Twins Born on February 23, 1982." It boasted as many as 200 members. The shy Si-eon had only chatted online for quite some time, but on his 22nd birthday, he mustered up the courage to attend a meetup for the first time. Even though they were complete strangers, they quickly bonded as if they had known each other for years.
While having a great time, his eyes kept drifting toward a woman sitting across from him. Her name was Park Sang-mi, also 22 years old. Sang-mi was an enthusiastic member who had traveled up from Gumi, North Gyeongsang Province, since dawn just to attend this gathering. With her round face and long curly hair, she looked adorable, and her personality was bright and cheerful. She was completely his ideal type. Falling in love with Sang-mi at first sight, Si-eon began attending every meetup and actively courting her. He didn't hesitate to travel all the way from Bucheon to Gumi just to see her.
"I just loved her. The moment I saw her, I thought, 'If I have this person by my side, I'll live happily for the rest of my life.' I liked her so much that I actively went back and forth..."
-Lee Si-eon, 820223 Twin
What happened to the two of them? In the end, they tied the knot.
"We met in 2003, dated, got married, and have been living together for 23 years now."
-Wife Park Sang-mi
"It truly feels like destiny. In my life, I live with a sense of wonder and curiosity, and I tell my children that often: destiny is something you can experience at any moment."
-Husband Lee Si-eon
"Whenever we meet people, we brag about it. We are something to be proud of."
-Lee Si-eon and Park Sang-mi
Through an online community, he found both his cherished "twin" friends and his wife today. What must online communities mean to Si-eon? Nowadays, all of us live lives inseparable from the internet. Yet just 30 years ago, that wasn't the case at all.
▲ Reply, PC Communication
The setting is the late 1990s at the Yongsan Electronics Market in Seoul. Amid the bustling crowds, an American man is shouting:
"Put this graphics card into your computer. A whole new world will open up!"
This man, pitching products across the electronics market, is someone you probably know. It's none other than Jensen Huang, CEO of Nvidia, now one of the world's largest companies.
So why was Jensen Huang, an American, selling computer parts in Yongsan? It all started with a single letter.
To Jensen Huang. I have a vision for Korea. It is a truly remarkable vision. I want to connect every Korean citizen with high-speed internet. In the future, everyone will be able to use high-speed internet. To achieve this, Jensen Huang, I need your help. From Lee Kun-hee.
"I received that letter from someone I didn't know. It was very beautifully written. In the letter, it said, 'I have a vision.' 'I have a vision for Korea.'"
-Jensen Huang, Nvidia CEO
"It was a letter sent by my father, Chairman Lee Kun-hee."
-Lee Jae-yong, Executive Chairman of Samsung Electronics
Moved by Chairman Lee Kun-hee's letter, Jensen Huang visited Korea in person. After observing a peculiar sight in Korea, Huang began envisioning the future of the IT industry: Korea's unique PC bang (internet cafe) culture. This distinctive PC bang culture, unique in the world, took off in the late 1990s. At the time, two things were hugely popular: the game StarCraft, and this right here.
This is a modem used to connect computers online. When connected to a computer, a screen with white text on a blue background would appear. That was PC communication (dial-up bulletin board service). PC communication was a service that allowed people all over the country to connect and chat online. In an era without mobile phones or broadband internet, people were completely hooked on PC communication. Logging on allowed them to chat with strangers. A blockbuster movie based on this premise was "The Contact," starring Han Suk-kyu and Jeon Do-yeon.
Connecting with people whose faces you'd never seen, watching posts you wrote spread nationwide and gain popularity—how fascinating and thrilling it was! But there was one major problem.
"Why is the phone bill so high this month? Dad told you to stop spending so much time on the computer!"
PC communication connected online through telephone lines. If you lost track of time while using it, you were hit with a massive phone bill. Another issue was that phone calls and PC communication couldn't be used at the same time. While someone was on the phone, you couldn't access PC communication at all. It was a time when you couldn't use the computer whenever you wanted.
▲ The Beginning of the Dot-Com Boom
Then came 1998, opening the era of high-speed broadband internet in South Korea. As high-speed internet spread to households across the country, the online world transformed.
Replacing screens filled only with white text on blue backgrounds, colorful websites unfolded. Alongside the rise of broadband internet back then, a new keyword emerged: "venture." In today's terms, that's a startup.
As everyone jumped into starting businesses to build internet websites, IT venture companies mushroomed. Thus began the so-called "dot-com boom." The term originated because naming website addresses with ".com" was all the rage back then. And just how intense was that fervor? You know the monumental status semiconductor companies hold in today's stock market? Dot-com companies back then were right on that level.
"A new world called the web opened up, and companies like Daum, Hanmail, and Naver—so many different companies—were founded back then. It was a period overflowing with possibilities where brilliant talent working at major conglomerates stepped out to launch new ventures."
-Kim Ji-hyun, IT Expert and Tech Writer
"The Kosdaq market is enjoying an unprecedented boom, setting an extraordinary record of rising for 16 consecutive days."
-From a news broadcast at the time
▲ A Suspicious Company and a Genius CEO
Not long after, in 1999, 25-year-old college student Choi So-hyun was nearing graduation. The biggest worry for a college student about to graduate is landing a job, but So-hyun had no such worries. For starters, she had impressive academic credentials as an industrial design student at Seoul National University. What's more, she had already secured a job. She had been accepted into Samsung, a major conglomerate regarded then as well as now as a job for life. Her future looked bright.
Then one day, she received a phone call from a close junior schoolmate. The junior had recently joined a newly established IT venture company and asked So-hyun, an industrial design major, for help designing business cards for the company. So-hyun gladly agreed to help. But upon hearing the company's name, she tilted her head in confusion. The company's name sounded rather peculiar. Let's hear directly from So-hyun about the situation back then.
"At that time, all kinds of IT companies were just beginning to emerge, so I was already aware of the trend that many such companies were popping up. But even though I was merely designing business cards, I wondered why this company's name was 'Freedom and Challenge.' It felt so simplistic... At first, it seemed a bit unrefined and childish. Freedom and Challenge? What even is that..."
-Choi So-hyun, Current Head of Design at Naver
Freedom and Challenge. What kind of company did it seem like? So-hyun asked her junior, "What does your company do?" To which the junior replied:
"Oh, that's something we have to figure out from now on."
What kind of response is that? Baffling, right? But at the time, So-hyun just shrugged it off. A few days later, however, the junior contacted her again, saying the company's CEO wanted to meet her to express his gratitude for her help. A few days after that, So-hyun headed to this company called Freedom and Challenge. The office was located in a small building in Seocho. When she opened the door, the office was tiny, with only a handful of employees. Entering a meeting room off to one side, she saw a man sitting in a chair. It was this person right here.
The CEO of Freedom and Challenge was Jeon Je-wan. And his background was astonishing. A graduate of Seoul National University's Department of Business Administration, he had worked at Samsung C&T. During his time at Samsung C&T, he was extremely well known. There was a specific achievement that made his name famous.
The year was 1988. At the time, Samsung Chairman Lee Kun-hee issued a strict order: "Why doesn't our company have young blood, young talent? Bring in outstanding talent." The person assigned to Samsung's human resources team at that time was none other than Jeon Je-wan. Jeon headed directly to universities to recruit talent. He pounded the pavement across countless universities to scout top individuals. But he was meeting more than 100 students a day. Because he met so many people, it was difficult to keep track of who was who and what their strengths were. Back then, there was no computerized human resources management system.
From then on, Jeon began teaching himself computer programming. Over a span of five long years, he personally built a brand-new HR management system from scratch. His creation transformed the HR system of the entire Samsung Group. In recognition of this achievement, he even received the inaugural "Proud Samsung Person Award."
The person hailed at Samsung back then as the top PC expert and an IT genius was Jeon Je-wan. Then came 1997. Amid the Asian financial crisis (IMF crisis), many companies began restructuring. Samsung Group was undergoing restructuring as well. While everyone was anxious about avoiding layoffs, there were individuals who walked out of Samsung on their own two feet.
One of them was Lee Hae-jin, the man who built today's Naver.
And Kim Beom-su, who went on to lead Kakao, South Korea's ubiquitous messenger service.
And yet another was Jeon Je-wan. The company he founded after leaving was Freedom and Challenge. What do you think a company headed by someone like this would be like? Sitting across from So-hyun, CEO Jeon Je-wan said:
"So-hyun, I heard you're planning to join Samsung. Sure, large conglomerates are great. But rather than working mechanically, how about working freely with your own ideas?"
He was trying to recruit So-hyun right there on the spot. In a time when the aftermath of the IMF crisis still lingered, So-hyun stood on the verge of entering a stable corporate giant. What would you do in this situation?
"I think it was the first time I wondered, 'Where does that confidence come from?' From then on, I was a bit conflicted. He posed a question: 'Big corporations are all well and good, but how about solving your own problem, in your own way, with your own freedom?' Looking back now, it was such a wonderfully inspiring proposition. From that moment, I think I began to ponder questions like, 'What exactly is a venture startup?' and 'What kind of company is this CEO building?'"
- Choi So-hyun, current Head of Design at Naver
Drawn by this inexplicable pull, So-hyun ultimately made her decision. Instead of the corporate giant Samsung, she chose a small IT startup called 'Freedom and Challenge.' From then on, So-hyun began working in the design team at Freedom and Challenge. However, she had no idea where to even begin. Despite being ostensibly an IT company, not a single person on the design team had any experience designing internet services. So-hyun went to CEO Jeon and spoke to him.
"CEO Jeon, we cannot find a solution at this rate. Could you bring in just one good senior colleague for us?"
A few days later, CEO Jeon swung open the office door and walked in, followed by a man. Taking a closer look, So-hyun realized he was an upperclassman from her university department. His name was Joh Su-yong.
He is the person who would later spearhead design innovations at Naver and Kakao and become co-CEO of Kakao. He was widely known as a formidable talent and something of a legend ever since his days in the Department of Industrial Design at Seoul National University. Through an industry-academic partnership, he also worked as a designer at Samsung Electronics. Amid all this, CEO Jeon scouted the 26-year-old Joh Su-yong to lead the design team. One after another, seniors and juniors connected through Seoul National University and Samsung began gathering at Freedom and Challenge.
▲ Freedom and Challenge
But what kind of company was this supposed to be? As they had said, that was something they needed to figure out from now on. The employees asked the CEO: "By the way, sir, what kind of company are we?"
"When we had discussions at first, starting from 'What is Freedom and Challenge?' to 'So what kind of service do you want to build and how?', he said, 'In the end, when people gather, they can do anything.' Then, what do humans want to do when they gather? What problem in human life should technology solve? I recall him talking about this truly every single day."
- Choi So-hyun, then Design Team Lead at Freedom and Challenge
"Back then, the web was just 'Just Online.' It began and ended with email, chat, and search. But our CEO believed, 'In the end, people are what matter on the internet as well.' So when people gather, that forms a gathering or a group, and he thought we should bring that realm of gatherings onto the web. That we must combine offline and online..."
- Shin Seung-sik, then Marketing Team Lead at Freedom and Challenge
CEO Jeon's premise was this: let's enable people to hold offline gatherings—such as clubs and alumni reunions—online. Let's create a community website that connects people with people online!
The atmosphere at the company back then was completely free and informal. Regardless of gender, everyone wore shorts and slippers. Keep in mind, this was 1999. Compared to the conservative corporate norms of the era, it was an unprecedented workplace culture.
"When moving from the marketing team to the engineering team, we rode kick scooters. It was so fun that even amongst ourselves we said, 'Hey, isn't this going too far?'"
- Shin Seung-sik, then Marketing Team Lead at Freedom and Challenge
"I was in charge of late-night snacks. I would hang a plastic bag on the kick scooter and go deliver the food. Sometimes I even think that might have been the predecessor to 'Baemin' (Baedal Minjok)."
- Choi So-hyun, then Design Team Lead at Freedom and Challenge
CEO Jeon would always tell his employees:
"Everything is done by people. Do not be afraid, and try everything you want to do."
After all, CEO Jeon was someone heralded as a top PC expert and IT genius. Drawing on his knowledge and experience, he supported the bold initiatives of his young staff both materially and spiritually.
"He held his ground when conversing with engineers. He had built up a technical background through his own studies."
- Shin Seung-sik, then Marketing Team Lead at Freedom and Challenge
"His drive, his persuasive disposition, the way he expanded boundaries, and the crystal-clear reasons behind it all—I used to think he was like a Napoleon born in the tech era."
- Choi So-hyun, then Design Team Lead at Freedom and Challenge
Just like the company's name, the employees were able to take on challenges freely within an open atmosphere. They said working late and pulling all-nighters every day was still immensely joyful.
▲ Freechal.com
Finally, the year 2000 and the new millennium arrived. And at midnight (00:00) on January 1, 2000, Freedom and Challenge's ambitious creation was unveiled to the online world. This was it.
"Attention, please. Town hall meetings will be held online. The web address is Freechal.com, as you all know."
The site's name was 'Freechal.' In English, 'Freedom' and 'Challenge' combine to form Freedom and Challenge—hence 'Freechal.' At the time, the defining identity of Freechal was its logo.
Small square tiles came together like a mosaic to form the Freechal logo, symbolizing many people gathering in this space to become one. It was designed by Joh Su-yong, head of design. In contrast, this was what other websites looked like in their early days.
Compared to those, wasn't Freechal's design distinctly different?
It was easy on the eyes and presented a wide variety of information in a clean, simple layout.
"Because it was going to be a bustling service where people gathered, we asked ourselves: how can we strip away the cold feel of technology as much as possible? Even though these are functional tools, how can we make them feel warmer and more approachable? Our design team had countless discussions about this, and that was also what the CEO wanted."
- Choi So-hyun, Freechal Designer
▲ The Golden Age of Communities
With just a click of the "Create Community" button, anyone in the country could easily set up a community. Most importantly, all of this was completely free. Whether you created hundreds of communities or uploaded tens of thousands of photos, everything was unlimited. How did users react? It was an absolute sensation. As word of mouth spread, Freechal surpassed 1 million members within just three months of its launch, and more than 35,000 communities were created.
Among them was a community whose name is now widely recognized. Fashion-forward dressers from across South Korea gathered there to share style information. The name of this community was "A Place with Tons of Shoe Photos" (Mujinjang Sinbal Sajini Maneun Got)—shortened to "Musinsa." The predecessor to Musinsa, now a leading fashion platform in South Korea, was originally a Freechal community.
"I think I first discovered Freechal in the summer of my first year of middle school. Because I was very interested in fashion and shoes, I was quite active there, following the older guys. Back then, that place was our Fashion Week. People who shared the same passion gathered to chat and enjoy it together. I remember thinking in sheer amazement, 'This is incredible—how could a tiny bulletin board grow into something this huge?'"
- Shin Hyun-woo, "Musinsa" community user
In addition, many uniquely entertaining communities that had never existed before sprang up rapidly. One of them was the "Palsamo" community, which boasted as many as 8,000 members.
"What I loved was arm wrestling, and I felt that I couldn't be the only one—there had to be others who loved it too. Out of sheer curiosity, I opened a community on Freechal, and an astonishing number of people joined from across the country. The age groups were incredibly diverse, ranging from teenagers to people in their 40s and 50s."
- Han Jun-hee, President of "Palsamo"
"I've loved arm wrestling since my teens. While busy running an oriental medicine clinic, arm wrestling suddenly came to mind. I wondered, 'Could there possibly be a group of people who love arm wrestling? Could such a place exist?' On a whim, I searched for arm wrestling, and there was indeed a club."
- Kim Kyung-ho, member of "Palsamo"
"Every single day was a series of pleasant surprises. When I woke up in the morning and logged onto the community, the membership had suddenly jumped by 100. And after another night's sleep, another 100 had joined. It was like that day after day."
- Han Jun-hee, President of "Palsamo"
It was a society of people who loved arm wrestling. Posts like these appeared on Palsamo every single day:
"I live in Donghae, Gangwon Province, and I've never lost an arm wrestling match in my life."
"Well, nice to meet you. I live in South Chungcheong Province, and nobody around here can match me in arm wrestling."
Everyone claimed they had never been beaten in their local neighborhoods. Then one day, an announcement was posted on Palsamo:
"Finally, the ultimate clash between the spear and the shield is set to take place. We invite all hidden masters across the nation to participate."
Han Jun-hee, president of Palsamo, had organized a nationwide arm wrestling tournament. Powerful contenders flocked from all corners of the country. It was so much fun that they reportedly arm-wrestled non-stop for two days and one night without sleeping.
"A really brawny man from Jeju Island who had never once lost traveled all the way up, only to be defeated by several competitors before heading back. Hahaha. We just kept arm wrestling continuously for two days and one night. Prior to that, there was absolutely no link to connect us. Strong individuals were isolated in their respective regions with only a few peers. Freechal provided that common denominator."
- Kim Kyung-ho, member of "Palsamo"
People who thought they were alone in the world were able to gather and connect thanks to online communities. In one community, most members were women in their early 30s. What kind of community was this? Let's hear directly from them.
"Back then, we created a club called 'Old Miss Network' (Nocho-nyeo Tongshin). You get the feel of it just from the name, right? Friends and I who were labeled 'old misses' at the time—aged 28, 30, 31, around our early 30s—gathered together, thinking, 'We shouldn't live in gloom being mistreated and called old maids. Let's band together and enjoy our lives!' Perhaps if we had gotten along better with people close around us, we wouldn't have remained single, but meeting new people in the online world was just fascinating. The sheer joy of having a new world open up? That was the true delight of an online club."
- Choi Jae-kyung, manager of Freechal's "Old Miss Network"
This Old Miss Network held a unique regular meetup called the "Recycling Party." What did they recycle? It was a group blind date where members brought along male acquaintances with whom they had no romantic spark to introduce them to other members. It was a complete rotational group date. On the day of the event, members gathered in a cafe, sitting in a single row facing the entrance. Moments later, three men opened the cafe door and walked in, but upon seeing the row of women staring at them, they turned around and walked right out. This bittersweet and humorous anecdote remains a fond memory to this day. They said the joy of finding like-minded friends became far greater than the anxiety of having to rush into marriage.
▲ Freechal's Unrivaled Run
In this way, people with diverse hobbies and stories flocked to Freechal, building unforgettable lifelong memories in their communities. Amid the dot-com boom, Freechal soared in popularity, and the company went from strength to strength. Its workforce also expanded dramatically in no time.
"The staff grew at an intimidating pace. I used to memorize extension numbers up into the hundred-and-somethings, but once it exceeded 150, I couldn't memorize them anymore. We wondered, 'Are we really hitting the jackpot here?'"
- Choi So-hyun, Freechal Designer
Moreover, Freechal even secured investment from GE Capital in the United States. GE, or General Electric, was the world's largest corporation at the time, founded by inventor Thomas Edison. Back then, it was an American corporate powerhouse wielding immense influence comparable to Nvidia or Microsoft today, and GE Capital was the financial subsidiary of General Electric. Such a company had invested in a fledgling South Korean startup.
That was not all. A man visited Freechal's office. He was the representative from GE Capital who had conducted due diligence on Freechal during the investment process. He said he wanted to join Freechal.
"During his research, he decided Freechal was so attractive that he resigned from GE Capital and joined Freechal. Seeing that, I thought, 'Our company must really be something.'"
- Shin Seung-sik, Freechal Marketing Team Leader
In fact, GE Capital was a much larger company. This shows just how incredible Freechal's stature was at the time. The number of communities created on Freechal peaked at 1.1 million, and its registered users reached 10 million. In the 2000s, South Korea's population was around 46 million. That means one out of every five South Koreans joined a Freechal community.
▲ A Friendly World
However, there was an IT venture startup that envied this success more than anyone else. The website created by this company was called "Saijoheun Sesang" (A Friendly World). Saijoheun Sesang offered a service called "Clubs," which was similar to Freechal's communities. But the response was abysmal. People kept flocking to Freechal, which already had a massive user base. Furthermore, from website design to investment capital, Saijoheun Sesang looked far too amateurish compared to Freechal.
"They (Freechal) were pros, and we were amateurs. Looking back now, we thought, 'Oh, that's how it's done?' Because they even ran TV commercials. We were so envious. 'Wow, that's how bold you have to be.'"
- Lee Dong-hyung, CEO of Saijoheun Sesang
"Freechal fundamentally had strong financial backing, received substantial investments, and pushed forward with well-planned strategies. In those aspects, there was a stark difference."
- Lee Jeong-tae, Director of Saijoheun Sesang
Saijoheun Sesang was in a dire situation where it couldn't even pay employee salaries properly. Standing on the verge of bankruptcy, the CEO decided to take one final shot at saving the website. He addressed all employees:
"Starting now, divide into male and female teams and come up with one new service each. There are only two conditions. First, it must foster good relationships. Second, it must make money."
A few days later, the presentations by the men's and women's teams began. The men's team proposed a chat service, arguing, "For people to get along well, they need to talk to each other a lot." However, chat services were already ubiquitous on other websites and were hardly innovative. Next came the women's team. They argued, "For people to form relationships, there must first be a 'me.' To bring people together, an individual's identity must first be established online." Which team won?
"We realized that we needed to design a service by observing people who get along well. To have a good relationship with others, one's own identity must exist somewhere. Our group communities lacked that. So the women's team won. While the men's idea could help people connect, it didn't seem to foster connections as well as the women's idea did. Fundamentally, our philosophy aligned with this concept. That project became the Minihompy project, and its success revived Cyworld."
- Lee Dong-hyung, CEO of Saijoheun Sesang
Cyworld was an internet website where users could decorate their Minihompy with their own stories and photos. It was a platform built on the philosophy of creating "a friendly world." Born out of a desperate struggle to survive on the brink of collapse, this service was the Minihompy. Literally, it was a mini personal homepage given to each individual. Simply put, it was like parceling out an online room to everyone. It allowed users to freely decorate their own rooms and express who they were.
Cyworld bet its entire future on developing the Minihompy. In September 2001, Cyworld's Minihompy was finally unveiled to the world. Today, the Cyworld service has been suspended, making it impossible to visit those nostalgic Minihompys.
On a Minihompy, users could customize everything to their liking, from profile cover photos to self-introductions and room decorations. Cyworld also had its own flagship feature: the "Ilchon" (buddies) network. Users who connected as Ilchon could leave short guestbook notes on each other's Minihompys. And there was another indispensable element: background music (BGM). It was an industry-first feature—an innovation among innovations.
To decorate a Minihompy, users needed "Dotori" (acorns). It was the virtual currency used within Cyworld. It was used to decorate rooms and send gifts to friends. But why acorns of all things?
"My hometown is at the foot of Mount Sobaek in Gyeongsangbuk-do. I was very familiar with acorns. I even remember using them to play ttakji. To be a currency, it had to be common, and second, familiar. Crucially, it couldn't cost more than 100 won. I found the reason why acorns had to be the currency: to bring people closer together."
- Lee Dong-hyung, CEO of Saijoheun Sesang
As mentioned earlier, the Minihompy was the Cyworld CEO's last hope. What was the response? It was explosive. From Minihompys to BGM and Dotori, everything Cyworld tried for the first time became an instant mega-hit.
"Today, influencers strive to beautifully curate every aspect of their daily lives on YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram to share with others. The Minihompy allowed people to build and accumulate their own identity, ego, and agency in the exact same way. It essentially revolutionized the concept of online communities. How? Instead of going out to visit a shared communal space, it repositioned itself as an innovative new service where people came into my space. Through this, it evolved into a premier service rivaling South Korea's Naver and Daum."
- Kim Ji-hyun, IT Expert and Tech Writer
As time passed, people's desires also changed. The mood shifted toward preferring to share one's own story in a personal space, rather than talking as just one member of a community of thousands. At the heart of that shift was Cyworld. It marked the dawn of the Korean-style social media era.
▲ The Era of the IT War
Watching this unfold, Freechal began to feel an immense sense of crisis.
"We viewed them as very threatening. Back then, our CEO was quite angry and irritable. The CEO's mindset was, 'We are better than them in both design and technology, so we can outpace all of them.'"
- Shin Seung-sik, Freechal Marketing Team Leader
Freechal also rolled out a service to keep pace with the times.
Freechal's new service was called "MyHompy"—even the name was similar. In fact, intense competition involving IT startups copying each other's services was common at the time. When Daum launched its "Cafe" service, Naver also introduced a service under the exact same name, "Cafe." But what did Minihompy mean to Cyworld? It was a service created out of desperation just to survive. How do you think Cyworld felt seeing Freechal's MyHompy? Cyworld and Freechal even engaged in a legal battle over alleged plagiarism. However, Cyworld lost. Why? The court ruled that personal homepage services could not be monopolized by any single company.
Just as Cyworld was feeling defeated, unexpected news broke: Freechal announced it would charge community operators 3,000 won per month. Freechal's biggest advantage had been that creating communities was unconditionally free, no matter how many you made. Yet it suddenly declared a paid model. Of course, Cyworld users had to buy Dotori to decorate their Minihompys. But the concept was slightly different: even if you didn't buy Dotori, there was no problem using Minihompy. In contrast, Freechal barred users from operating communities entirely unless they paid. How did the users react?
"First of all, it was such a shock and felt like a betrayal. I think people were furious, thinking, 'So we have to pay money to do this now?' There was immense anger. People were even posting curses all over the message boards."
- Shin Hyun-woo, User of the "Musinsa" Community
"I recall the notice carried subtle threats, stating things like, 'If you do not comply, management privileges will be restricted.' That's why many operators must have felt extremely offended back then."
- Han Jun-hee, President of Freechal's "Palsamo" Community
Public anger erupted. Even Freechal's own employees opposed it. The transition to a paid model was CEO Jeon Je-wan's personal decision. Why on earth did he make such a decision? The National Assembly even convened a public hearing regarding Freechal's paid transition. From that moment on, Freechal plunged into turmoil. As users fled, the number of communities plummeted from 1.1 million to 400,000 in an instant. While the IT industry was in an uproar, there was one place that delivered a decisive blow to Freechal: Cyworld.
"Everyone, as promised, Cyworld is free for life. We will keep our promise to you no matter what."
People leaving Freechal began migrating to Cyworld en masse.
"Back then, the notion that 'internet services are unconditionally free by default' was firmly ingrained."
- Lee Jeong-tae, Then-Director of Cyworld
"So we thought that if we played our cards right, it would be an opportunity for us. We felt we could truly create 'a friendly world'..."
- Lee Dong-hyung, Then-CEO of Cyworld
From then on, Cyworld took off with soaring momentum. It later established itself as South Korea's flagship social media network, used by 25 million people—half of the nation's population.
Time passed, and by 2010, dot-com companies were confronted with an unforeseen tide: the dawn of the smartphone era.
As Facebook and Instagram emerged to meet the changing times, conventional internet websites steadily lost users. The glorious dot-com era had begun to draw to a close.
"Services like Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), or Facebook are not about visiting or being visited; content comes to you instead. That is called a feed. While Minihompy required people to visit a specific space, here the feed comes to you. Therefore, it was difficult for services that thrived on the traditional web to carry over seamlessly to smartphones. The fundamental structure of the service completely changes."
- Kim Ji-hyun, IT Expert and Tech Writer
Even the once-booming Cyworld began to be pushed aside by foreign social media platforms. Freechal also failed to survive the changing times and faded into memory in 2013.
Since then, the founders of Cyworld have stayed active in the new era, lecturing on IT and consulting for startups. Former Freechal employees who scattered in different directions grew into towering figures leading South Korea's IT industry. Choi So-hyun, a designer at Freechal, now serves as Head of Design at Naver. Cho Su-yong, who oversaw design, served as co-CEO of Kakao, a leading South Korean tech giant. Another former member served on the National Artificial Intelligence Strategy Committee under the Blue House, while another became the CEO who created "Pinkfong," the content brand that captivated the world.
▲ Recent Whereabouts of Freechal's CEO
Yet, doesn't it feel like an essential figure is missing? The person who gathered all these talents and reshaped the flow of the internet back then—CEO Jeon Je-wan of Freechal, a first-generation venture CEO known as an IT prodigy. What is he doing now? To see how he was doing, the team traveled to Yangyang, Gangwon Province.
"Yes, that's right. I am Jeon Je-wan. The grass has grown a lot, so I'm mowing the lawn. I also have to take out the trash and fill the jacuzzi with water. (When asked if he works at the pension) Yes, that's right. Cleaning is my specialty. To put it nicely, a gardener. Spreading fertilizer, pulling weeds, mowing the lawn... well, this is my main specialty..."
- Jeon Je-wan, Former CEO of Freechal
Former CEO Jeon Je-wan was working as a cleaner at a pension in Yangyang.
"The pain when your business starts failing... in reality, your life reaches the brink of ruin. To forget my worries, I came here to clean. I have to focus on one thing. Even so, the memories keep coming back, which means I haven't been able to let go. Can anyone easily let go? I built a structure that propelled Freechal into the domestic top three within a year of its launch. Having 10 million users was practically equivalent to everyone using the internet in our country. If I could completely empty my mind of that, I would be someone who attained enlightenment. Just because I don't have hair doesn't mean I'm a monk practicing asceticism, so it's not easy."
- Jeon Je-wan, Former CEO of Freechal
Having severed ties with everyone, he now makes a living by cleaning pensions and working as a designated driver. What on earth happened over the years to a man who once defined an era in South Korea's venture industry?
CEO Jeon Je-wan left his job during the Asian Financial Crisis (IMF) restructuring period to ambitiously launch Freechal. When Freechal was initially thriving, he reportedly felt fearless.
"Imagine getting a 50% viewership rating. Our producers, directors, and camera crew wouldn't sleep. Would you sleep when you're watching the reruns? It was just like that. Even when sleeping on cots, crashing anywhere, or putting chairs together to sleep, everyone was simply happy working. The number of users was skyrocketing, so of course it was fun. I think everyone enjoyed working back then."
- Jeon Je-wan, Former CEO of Freechal
▲ The Bursting of the Dot-Com Bubble
Yet, ironically, the more users Freechal attracted, the more money the company lost. From server maintenance to hardware expenses and network usage fees, costs snowballed as the service grew. Running a service for around one million users reportedly cost 3 billion won a month in hardware expenses alone. As a result, the investment funds received from GE Capital were quickly depleted. On top of that, another major crisis struck: IT-related stock prices began to plummet.
"The KOSDAQ market, where stock prices skyrocketed from blind investments, set records when it plummeted as well."
"Teheran Valley, where domestic venture startups were concentrated, was also gripped by shock following the massive crash of the KOSDAQ market."
- From news reports at the time
This was the so-called "dot-com bubble burst." When earnings failed to keep pace with soaring expectations, the bubble surrounding IT venture companies burst in an instant. At that time, virtually every venture company began to teeter. Cyworld was sold to conglomerate SK at the height of its popularity. Meanwhile, CEO Jeon Jae-wan scrambled in every direction to find investors, pitching Freechal's potential and the future of the internet industry.
"If we become number one in this space, our market capitalization will easily surpass 1 trillion won."
"Has this guy lost his mind doing venture startups? Do you know what Samsung C&T's market cap is right now?"
In the late 2000s, Samsung C&T's market capitalization was around 3 trillion won. How, then, would CEO Jeon Jae-wan's words have sounded to investors back then? Until that point, no one could gauge the potential of the IT industry. Yet in 2026, Naver's market capitalization stands at 30 trillion won.
Freechal appeared glamorous on the outside, but on the inside, it was being pushed to the edge of a cliff. The inevitable choice it made was to start charging fees. Ahead of the transition to paid services, CEO Jeon posted this letter on Freechal:
"Hello, this is Jeon Jae-wan, CEO of Freechal. I understand that the sudden announcement of charging for Freechal communities must have caused great dismay. I offer my sincere apologies to our members. For Freechal, this was a decision made by betting the company's fate in order to sustain ongoing technological development. Freechal will repay you with the best software and facility infrastructure. We will never forget that this paid community transition was made for that purpose."
He promised that in exchange for 3,000 won a month, the site would remove advertisements and deliver better services. Contrary to concerns, Freechal secured 200,000 paid communities in just 15 days. At this rate, it seemed Freechal could operate without any issues.
▲ The Downfall and Failure
Then, in December 2002, an unforeseen incident occurred that shook the venture startup industry.
"Prosecutors requested an arrest warrant yesterday for Mr. Jeon on charges including disguised share capital payment and embezzlement."
"He is also accused of falsely paying billions of won in capital contributions during the company's rights offering and embezzling around 12 billion won."
- From news reports at the time
CEO Jeon Jae-wan was abruptly arrested. The charges were disguising capital contributions by making it appear as though unremitted funds had been paid, and embezzlement by using company funds to pay for stock purchases. Jeon maintained that it was not intentional, arguing it was an unavoidable managerial judgment call due to the company's difficult financial circumstances, rather than an attempt at personal gain. Nevertheless, he was ultimately sentenced to two years in prison.
"When a (managerial) crisis management situation arose, I couldn't make proper judgments after all. In the end, I failed to build a structure that fit and suited that (crisis management). It means I lacked ability. I fell short. That's what I think. Looking back from where I stand today, I would like to take this opportunity to say to Freechal users, 'I'm sorry I couldn't protect your data to the very end.'"
- Jeon Jae-wan, former CEO of Freechal
Jeon was released from prison in 2004 after completing his two-year sentence. Much later, in 2016, the founders of Cyworld heard unbelievable news.
"SK didn't see much future value in holding on to Cyworld any longer, so they spun off the Cyworld team. Because of that, things didn't go well. While things were struggling, one day I heard that the head of Freechal agreed to work together with them. So at first, I couldn't believe my ears."
- Lee Dong-hyung, former CEO of Cyworld
"He was kind of the enemy's commander-in-chief, wasn't he? To hear that the enemy leader suddenly, at some point, becomes the CEO of Cyworld? 'What on earth is this?' That's what crossed my mind."
- Jeon Hwak-ryeol, former director of Cyworld
Yet today, Jeon is living a life completely unrelated to IT. What happened to him?
"My view was that we shouldn't overlook the historical significance and importance of Cyworld's data. It was data that needed to be preserved. Even though it was tough, I wanted to keep pushing forward so that when everything was revived, customers could say, 'You worked so hard to make this for us, and we're enjoying it.' I worked really hard on Cyworld. I invested over 30 billion won into development, but when COVID-19 hit, I just couldn't carry on any longer. Things were going smoothly and we had reached the ninth ridge, but when I took that final step, it turned out to be a cliff. First of all, it was probably due to my own lack of capability. The first fault lies with me, a CEO and manager who failed to do well. Second, business doesn't work on ability alone—you need some luck. Seeing both ventures (Freechal and Cyworld) collapse due to unexpected, extraordinary circumstances made me think, 'Perhaps I am someone who isn't meant for business.' If I remain fixated on things that started because of me, there is no future. You cannot turn a waterwheel with water that has already flowed past."
- Jeon Jae-wan, former CEO of Freechal
In 2019, while he was actively seeking investments needed for Cyworld's development, the COVID-19 pandemic broke out. As the global economy entered a downturn, investments dried up completely. He even faced criminal penalties on charges of overdue wages and embezzlement. He was unable to save Cyworld either. Jeon Jae-wan, an entrepreneur who spearheaded first-generation venture myths and left a mark on the growth of South Korea's IT industry, ultimately moved to the countryside to live close to nature.
Though first-generation venture startups exited through the back door of history, those who harbored the venture dreams of that era say they still cannot forget those days.
"I think it was a time when we lived purely on passion. Without distinguishing between my own work and company work, we worked united by pure passion."
- Shin Seung-sik, former head of marketing at Freechal
"Imagining to our hearts' content and laying out everything we could possibly do. I'd like to think of it as my very first playground where freedom and challenges were made possible."
- Choi So-hyun, former head of design at Freechal
"Emotionally speaking, Cyworld feels like my own daughter. Joking aside, it really feels like a daughter to me."
- Lee Dong-hyung, former CEO of Cyworld
"Even now, when I say I was a founding member of Cyworld, people look upon it favorably. It's the ultimate credential."
- Jeon Hwak-ryeol, former director of Cyworld
"To me, it is youth—pure youth. When I think of my youth, Cyworld is inseparable from it."
- Lee Jeong-tae, former director of Cyworld
Their challenges laid the groundwork for South Korea to grow into today's IT powerhouse. The online communities of that era were spaces as warm as real life, connecting people with one another.
"Like the feeling you get when re-reading old letters from the past, it feels like I left some genuine part of myself there, only to shut the door behind me..."
- Choi Jae-kyung, moderator of Freechal's "Old Maid Dispatch"
"Because it was just a diary, something I could take out and read at any time, but knowing that the entire drawer was being cleared out, it was so very disappointing."
- Shin Hyun-woo, user of the "Musinsa" community
There was one thing "Kokomu" heard most often while preparing this broadcast: "We don't want to forget." A desire to protect this diary filled with precious memories. That sentiment will one day serve as the key to recovering our memories.
Having heard the story of "That Day," what are your thoughts "Today"?
(Reporter Kang Seon-ae, SBS Entertainment News)
※
Copying, redistribution, and unauthorized use in AI training are strictly prohibited.