IT bad boy Takafumi Horie -- the entrepreneurial David taking on Japan's stodgy gray-suited corporate Goliath -- today stands accused of breaking not just business etiquette, but also the law in his quest to build 'a company with the world's top market value.'</PARAGRAPH> <PHOTO> <TABLE WIDTH='250' ALIGN='RIGHT' BORDER='0'> <TR> <TD><IMG ALT='News photo' BORDER='0' SRC='../images/photos2007/nn20070313a2a.jpg' WIDTH='250' HEIGHT='381'/></TD> </TR> <TR> <TD><FONT SIZE='1'><B>Livedoor founder Takafumi Horie spearks during a recent interview with The Japan Times in Tokyo. </B> SATOKO KAWASAKI PHOTO</FONT></TD> </TR> <TABLE> </PHOTO> <PARAGRAPH>Before his 2006 arrest for violating the Securities and Exchange Law, supporters applauded the impudent University of Tokyo drop-out-turned-mogul, who dared to hold press conferences in T-shirts and jeans.</PARAGRAPH> <PARAGRAPH>He was hailed as a financial visionary for turning information technology venture Livedoor Co. from a Web design startup called Livin' on the Edge in 1996 into a financial powerhouse that would shake the status quo less than 10 years later.</PARAGRAPH> <PARAGRAPH>Turning the corporate world on its head seemed a personal mission for Horie. But in an exclusive interview with The Japan Times, just days before he was to be judged by the Tokyo District Court, the straight-talking 34-year-old revealed that he never had much passion for business.</PARAGRAPH> <PARAGRAPH>'I wasn't running Livedoor because I liked doing it. I did it just because I was good at it,' Horie said. 'Things went well and stockholders expected me to continue. So I did.'</PARAGRAPH> <PARAGRAPH>Wearing a navy blue sweater over T-shirt and jeans, Horie seemed eager to dash any notion that Livedoor was ever anything more than a hobby.</PARAGRAPH> <PARAGRAPH>Asked how he feels today about Livedoor, in which he holds a 17.25 percent stake, Horie replied that it was nothing more than a company in which he owned some shares.</PARAGRAPH> <PARAGRAPH>'I just want –

to try to increase its value, just like any shareholder would," he said between frequent glances at his cell phone. Livedoor shares were trading at around 700 yen shortly after a stock split and before the firm was raided in January 2006 for alleged accounting fraud. By the time Livedoor was delisted by the Tokyo Stock Exchange last April, the share value had plunged to 94 yen.

Asked how he felt about Livedoor shareholders who are suing over their investment losses, Horie said "frankly speaking, I wish they would drop the case, but I don't feel anything beyond that."

Horie has been full of surprises since he entered the media spotlight, thus his agreeing to be interviewed while his criminal trial is still ongoing should be no shock.

His company started out in the shadows of larger Internet portals, including Yahoo! Japan, but grabbed public attention when Horie made a bid to buy a professional baseball team in 2004.