Ghosts of Eternity

The bullet fired by Namgoong Hwi left an invisible trajectory, piercing through the highest neural networks of South Korea's power elite.

It was no mere rumor. The sight of yesterday’s frail, aging tycoon appearing in the boardroom this morning with the sharp, predatory glare of a beast ignited a craving in high-end society—faster than a contagion, more blind than religious fanaticism.

Starting with Namgoong Hwi of Cheonmyeong Media, the most powerful figures from every sector began walking into Lee Seo-han’s orbit of their own accord. They were the distinct central nerves sustaining the massive organism known as South Korea: General Park Sang-do, a titan of the defense industry; Kang Min-ju, the "Tiger of Yeouido"; Kim Kwang-sik, a pillar of academia; Shin Hae-ryeong, once feared as an unflinching judge; and Choi Do-sik, a living legend of the intelligence community.

These aging power brokers had all been initiated into Ghost 2.0. It felt less like a blessing and more like booting up the latest OS on obsolete, decaying hardware.

Without reading glasses, the operational maps used to be nothing but a blur to Park Sang-do. Now, he read them with absolute clarity, his brain instantly recalling the din of the battlefield. Kang Min-ju experienced the thrill of seeing the numbers on her screen transform into geometric waves of living derivative data, calculating risks like a supercomputing processor. For Shin Hae-ryeong, her chronic spinal pain vanished without a trace, replaced by a cold, sharp lucidity as tens of thousands of pages of legal statutes burned into her neurons.

It was less a restoration than a forced restart of their fading endocrine rhythms as a torrent of hormones flooded their systems.

Throughout this process, Seo-han remained clinically detached. Just as he had with Namgoong Hwi, he never once asked the five new members for an 'introduction to a woman' or any emotional exchange. Indifferently, he merely tossed them the secure Eterno account numbers where the monthly technical consultation fee of 100 million KRW was to be deposited, along with personalized management guidelines based on their individual response profiles.

To Seo-han, they were not venerable elders to be respected. They were high-resolution observations, demonstrating the ripples Ghost could create at the absolute apex of human society.

Inside a secluded safehouse in Hannam-dong, surrounded by cold marble and heavy acoustic insulation, a thick silence filled the secret room.

Jeong Hyeon-jin and Jeong Ui-hyeon anxiously fiddled with the smartwatches in their suit pockets. The subtle hand tremors and drops in body temperature that occurred whenever the next scheduled supply drew near made them irritable.

In contrast, right before their eyes, Seo-han was casually reviewing Ghost 2.0 reaction data on his tablet, his linen shirt sleeves rolled up. The blue light radiating from the screen cast a sharp glow over his cool eyes. As if completely indifferent to how these towering figures perceived him, he remained entirely absorbed in hunting for flaws in the data.

"Dr. Lee, there's something I’ve been wondering about," Jeong Hyeon-jin broke the silence, unable to contain himself as he slammed his crystal whiskey glass onto the table. The sharp clinking of ice echoed through the room. In Hyeon-jin’s bloodshot eyes, a bizarre dissatisfaction, unexplainable by the logic of a capitalist, twisted around his gaze.

"Why haven't you brought up the matter of women to people like Chairman Namgoong or CEO Kang Min-ju? With their connections, the pool of candidates for your so-called 'perfect woman' would be vastly larger than ours."

Jeong Ui-hyeon chimed in. "Exactly. You demanded it so relentlessly from us, yet you won't breathe a word to them. It's almost offensive. Are the cards we dealt you not to your liking?"

Seo-han did not look up from his tablet. The screen’s blue light drew cold contours across his expressionless face.

"I have concluded that it is meaningless." Seo-han’s voice was flat and clinical.

"Meaningless? When we arranged meetings with some of the finest women in South Korea?"

"Data holds value when it is repeated. Meeting a woman for a one-off encounter was an inefficient calculation that only fatigued my prefrontal cortex." Seo-han closed his tablet and looked at the two men directly. Instead of his usual chilling aura, a bizarre gaze mixed with a very faint, almost human warmth settled in his eyes. "I realized it was a waste of time. So, I am reconsidering. It seems this isn't something that can be achieved through mere demands."

Jeong Hyeon-jin and Jeong Ui-hyeon exchanged looks.

"Is that so? Then does that mean we don’t need to introduce anyone to you anymore?" Hyeon-jin’s voice dropped low. The ice in his glass rattled violently, a nervous sound. A thick vein pulsed on the back of his hand.

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Seo-han picked up his coat and replied indifferently. "No. I haven't reached a definitive conclusion yet, so please continue your arrangements. I still need something to pass the time."

After a polite nod, Seo-han walked out the door, leaving a thick vein bulging on Jeong Hyeon-jin’s forehead.

Seo-han had meant that he was merely discarding people he only intended to see once anyway. But Jeong Ui-hyeon, entirely blind to the true emotion behind those words, held his breath and glared at Seo-han’s retreating figure. The fact that titans in their sixties had been treated as a mere 'pastime' by a scientist in his forties turned the air in the room into a total vacuum.

"That son of a...!" Ui-hyeon gripped the armrest of the sofa with a trembling hand. What surged from deep beneath his anger was an indescribable sense of humiliation and terror.

"Vice Chairman Jeong, pull yourself together. The fact that he’s mocking us isn't the problem right now." Ui-hyeon’s eyes flashed. His brain, made taut by the effects of Ghost 2.0, was reassembling information at a terrifying speed. "Passing the time? No. That bastard is combing through the very roots of our network right now. He is listing the core talents painstakingly raised by S-Group and H-Group—the ones who will lead the next twenty to thirty years."

His voice hardened completely. "Look at the faces of the women we introduced. Every single one of them was either a daughter of a family at the apex of their respective fields, or an unparalleled talent."

Unable to withstand the suffocating pressure, Jeong Hyeon-jin violently tore off his royal blue silk tie. The premium fabric let out a sound like a shriek under the friction, but he didn't care. The thick veins bulging on the back of his hand pulsed, proving the abnormal vitality granted by Ghost 2.0.

"This wasn't some simple tryst. That bastard... he's holding us by the scruff of our necks to map out the bloodlines and networks of South Korea’s upper class. He's trying to swallow it whole with nothing but a single spray bottle."

Hyeon-jin’s voice trembled with a mixture of rage and shock. Standing beside him, Jeong Ui-hyeon let out a deep sigh instead of answering. Though his eyes were much sharper than usual under the influence of Ghost, a permanent fatigue lingered deep within his pupils.

"That's not all. He is growing his network with the premium information we provide, while treating us—his supply line—as mere consumables. 'Passing the time'? It means he doesn't even view us as human. It’s the attitude of an observer throwing food to lab rats just to watch their reactions."

Ui-hyeon slowly stood up and looked down at the night view of the Han River stretching past the floor-to-ceiling windows. Viewed from sixty-three stories up, the lights of Seoul blinked coldly, like current flowing through a massive circuit board. The realization that all those trajectories of light seemed to converge toward a singular, bizarre center named Lee Seo-han made his skin crawl.

"We can't let this continue. We can't be the only ones bleeding dry and losing our lifespans. This gamble is too dangerous. We need to diversify the risk. Besides, there's no reason for us to personally scramble around trying to cater to his whims. Aren't there plenty of others practically lining up, dying to drink from this sweet, poisoned chalice?"

A sinister, chilly smile played on Hyeon-jin’s lips. He had instantly grasped Ui-hyeon’s intention.

"The new members? The five, including Namgoong Hwi." Hyeon-jin let out a faint, sideways smirk. "They too are now followers who have stepped into this network. Humans whose leashes are already tied to the supply line. The infrastructure they possess is just as vast and solid as ours."

Hyeon-jin slowly buried himself deep into the sofa. The heavy, charcoal-colored sofa, upholstered in premium Italian leather, softly wrapped around him. Just as the heat in his neck, flushed red with rage, began to cool slightly against the cold touch of the leather, a bizarre sense of dissonance suddenly flashed through his mind.

"But you know," he muttered softly. "What on earth does that bastard intend to do with all the money he makes?"

Ui-hyeon’s gaze slowly turned back to him, and Hyeon-jin racked his brain, his brow furrowed. Lee Seo-han had raked in hundreds of millions in a short period, yet the clothes he wore, the car he drove, and the house he lived in had not changed at all. Of all the secular trophies of desire that humans lusted after, Lee Seo-han showed interest in absolutely none.

Ui-hyeon spoke slowly. "I've thought about that too."

The cold light of the Han River outside reflected faintly across his thin eyeglass lenses. He lightly swirled the crystal glass in his hand. The clear sound of ice clinking resonated through the silent room.

"Ordinary humans try to satisfy their immediate desires the moment they get their hands on a new source of wealth. A bigger house. A higher position. A younger, prettier woman." Ui-hyeon’s voice sank heavily. "But not Lee Seo-han. That bastard never had an interest in such low-level amusements from the very beginning."

A heavy silence descended upon the room. The smart dimming lights on the ceiling lowered their illumination on their own as time ticked past, casting deep shadows over both men's faces.

Hyeon-jin unconsciously checked the pulse on his left wrist. A steady, powerful beat. This pulse, no different from that of a twenty-year-old, would stop like a lie the moment Ghost was no longer supplied, dragging him right back to his decaying, aging past. It was a gruesome future that made his hairs stand on end just thinking about it.

Yet strangely, at this exact moment, a thought even more horrifying than that gruesome terror forced its way into his mind.

"Could it be..." Hyeon-jin swallowed dryly, wetting his parched throat. "...that money was never his objective to begin with?"

Ui-hyeon did not answer for a long time. He merely looked down in silence at the sprawling nightscape of Seoul outside the window. Finally, he slowly shook his head. His gaze swept down over the forest of buildings submerged in the darkness.

"Right now, that bastard is coveting a realm that money cannot buy."

"……."

"A greater power to bend others to his will."

In an instant, a freezing shiver shot straight down Jeong Hyeon-jin’s spine.

They had wanted Ghost. They had simply wanted to live a little younger, a little longer, enjoying their power. The moment those words ended, a profound silence visited the room once more.

And for the first time, the two men realized it to their very bones.

The truly terrifying thing was not Ghost tightening the leash around their necks.

It was the man holding it.

Lee Seo-han, with eyes that desired absolutely nothing.