Who will claim the throne?
I was born an ordinary girl in Gangwon Province, South Korea.
As the eldest of four siblings, I learned responsibility early in life.
At thirteen, I was conservative enough to question why children were expected to dress like adults.
Growing up in a rural area with limited access to private education, I had no choice but to teach myself—working through countless workbooks, developing my own way of studying.
That environment made my desire to succeed relentless.
Independent yet capable, I earned the trust of my teachers, and through school support, I studied abroad in New Zealand as a scholarship student.
I spent time with popular classmates, but because I refused to smoke or shorten my skirt,
I was always an uncomfortable presence. A single moment of attention from a male student was enough to make me the target of exclusion.
Neither school nor society became the shelter I needed.
I lost the ability to trust people far too early.
After that, my world changed.
Social pressure pushed me toward panic, and I learned anxiety and fear at a very young age.
Not knowing how to withstand external stress, I retreated inward—searching for answers in libraries and diaries, trying to protect myself the only way I knew how.
“All you need is a dream, and you can achieve anything.”
Clinging to that single sentence, a timid girl who spent nearly ten years studying late into the night, dreaming of becoming a teacher, secretly earned money through part-time jobs and came to Seoul without telling her parents.
With no money, in a completely unfamiliar neighborhood, she spent nights awake—yet felt happy.
That 19-year-old romantic is now 29, standing at CES with ARTNEX,
determined to enter the U.S. market.
For ten years, I have held onto a single line as my slogan:
“A world where children can be children.”
To me, the world was always full of questions.
No one taught me what was right or wrong.
From a freelancer’s perspective, the customer is wrong. From a client’s perspective, the worker is wrong.
Everyone protects their own position, aligning themselves with groups that serve their interests and choosing arguments that benefit them.
People are inherently self-interested, and business is often reduced to a tool for maximizing profit.
By that logic, my belief may seem irrational and inefficient.
Yet throughout building my business, I tested my dream against this question hundreds of times.
Some said,
“Business is not built on vision.”
Others mocked,
“If you can’t make money, what kind of CEO are you?”
Some flaunted their social status as power, while draining the potential from my purity, just as I was beginning.
Still, I never let go of that single line.
“A world where children can be children.”
I did not challenge the world to make money, nor simply to succeed in business.
I needed a standard to protect my dream.
It took me ten years to build SUGOLAB.
Every step into the world felt like failure.
With only the smallest achievements, I constantly asked myself how to tune my outcomes
into the best version of success possible.
I questioned how to live, how to survive, and how to endure.
The result is SUGOLAB today.
That is why I can say this with confidence:
no matter how strong the army I face, I believe I can win.
So now I ask you:
How much of your heart have you put into your life?
How full is your day with victory?
I ask again:
What is your dream?
There is only one reason I ask everyone about their dream today.
Because God loves you.
Does no one recognize you?
Do they laugh at you?
Do they fail to see your effort?
None of that matters.
The reason you keep colliding with the same wall is simple:
you have not yet found the answer in your fight with yourself.
Are you afraid of failure?
Have you ever lived without failing?
Is your pride on the line?
What do you truly gain by protecting it?
Are you afraid of losing face?
Has the hypocrisy you defined ever truly protected you?
We are simply a team creating the kind of tomorrow the world needs more of.
In someone’s tomorrow, there is family.
There are dreams. There is growth.
SUGOLAB is a place where we win today together so that tomorrow can be endured.
Each of us defines a “better tomorrow” differently.
Our purposes may differ—but our goal is the same.
Through investment. Through technology. Through collaboration. Or through business.
No matter the approach, anyone who wishes to work with us must come to the table with CEO Minju Cha, grounded in the shared standard of
“a world where children can be children.”
Based on our vision and mission, we must clearly define what kind of trust capital we are building and each person’s role and responsibility.
We are a team facing the market.
And I ask clearly:
What value can you bring to us?
And how can we trust that value?
Some answer these questions. Others evade them with cleverness.
It doesn’t matter who you are.
We will fall off the cliff together— and climb back up together.
The world is unfair to everyone.
Life, however, is fair to all.
To those without the courage to step beyond the limits they set for themselves,
We lead with faith across the desert, and share a better way to survive.
There is one astonishing truth.
In an age of abundance, people are buying sleep.
Recovery and sleep have become global trends, revealing through capital what exhausted people—worn down by stimulation, competition, and anxiety—are truly purchasing.
This is not a consumption trend.
It is a structural signal sent by society.
What is this era losing?
And in a market reshaped daily by AI,
what will we choose to buy next?
I believe this is not a question for a single company, but a standard that society as a whole must confront.
Hans Rosling writes in Factfulness that we view the world pessimistically not because reality is getting worse, but because we misunderstand it.
People believe the world is becoming poorer, more violent, and hopeless
— yet data shows the opposite. Extreme poverty has declined dramatically.
More children are receiving education than ever before.
Life expectancy and survival rates continue to rise. What society needs now are leaders who understand true responsibility.
And the responsibility we define is the strength to endure silently
— under pressure, for those we love more, and for tomorrow.
That is why we build education and culture.
And we are searching for better leadership—
leaders willing to take bold, even reckless challenges to set new standards for the markets ahead.
Does our work feel compelling to you?
Then let me ask you this.