For many South Koreans, the dominance of Samsung is reminiscent of the country’s feudal dynasties.
The comparison is not so outlandish: from hereditary rulers to a court of scheming mandarins, Samsung in many ways represents a modern Korean empire.
And at the heart of the realm sits the crown prince: Lee Jae-yong.
Officially, Mr Lee is vice-chairman of Samsung Electronics, the gem in a sprawling business group that covers everything from healthcare services to shipbuilding.
Unofficially, he is the most powerful man in the nation of 50m.
He is the de facto head and heir apparent to the Samsung conglomerate, which at one point had revenue equal to about 20 per cent of the nation’s gross domestic product.
He is, in many ways, more pivotal to the nation’s wellbeing than its president.
So when a humble judge ordered the arrest of the multi-billionaire early on Friday, in connection with a spreading corruption scandal, the commotion was inevitable.
For South Koreans, deeply inured to corruption, the arrest of corporate chiefs is no longer shocking.
Yet the case of Mr Lee stands apart. Fluent in English and confident competing on a global stage, the 48-year-old represented the country’s new breed of corporate leaders.
“There’s a generation gap on what people think about Jay Lee, and this reflects the cultural struggle in Samsung and in Korean society,” says Geoffrey Cain, author of an upcoming book on Samsung.
“The older Samsung people almost always tell me they have doubts because he’s smart but lacks his father’s charisma. The younger people, and the Western employees, say they like him a lot more — he knows how to listen and build relationships, the type of thing Samsung needs for the 21st century.”
“The arrest doesn’t seem to be shaking their image. They still think he’s a moderniser, even though he just showed that the old dynastic system of government patronage, which started with his grandfather, is still in place,” he added.
Born in 1968, Mr Lee, who goes by the English name Jay Y, is the only son of Samsung chairman Lee Kun-hee.
After obtaining a history degree in Seoul and a business degree in Tokyo, he joined the conglomerate at the age of 23 and diligently worked his way up the ranks — a process that fluctuated with the highs and lows of his father’s own career.
The focus was on grooming him, and by 2012 he was appointed a vice-chairman of the group.
For South Koreans, Mr Lee was an unknown quantity, a prince unknown by his people.
That would change in 2014 when he was thrust into the spotlight after his father was incapacitated following a heart attack.
The incident left Mr Lee in effect as the head of the group — a position he has moved to build upon in the past two years.
His manoeuvring sparked an outcry in 2015, when he pushed through a controversial merger of Samsung affiliates.
The deal between Samsung C&T and Cheil Industries was crucial for the Lee family to strengthen its shareholding grip over the conglomerate, but it was criticised by some minority stakeholders on the basis it would not generate value.
The controversial deal is now at the heart of the corruption charges that have placed the scion behind bars.
Prosecutors allege Mr Lee made payments to powerful figures to get the deal passed. The emperor-in-waiting denies the charges.