Ghosts of Eternity

The noise from Gwanghwamun Square struck the thick plate-glass window and dissolved into a dull hum.

The Brewery sat in a quiet alley behind the Sejong Center for the Performing Arts. Inside, the craft beer pub was all industrial concrete and cold air.

The bitter scent of hops hung low, carried by the draft of the air conditioner.

Sihyun lightly pushed away an IPA glass beaded with condensation.

Across from her sat Seoyun. Her posture was impeccably straight.

A faint woody scent drifted from her, mingling with the bitter aroma of hops. Seoyun stared quietly at her dark beer, its foam completely settled.

On the large OLED TV covering one wall of the pub, the evening news was in full swing.

Normally, it would be the hour for dry economic indicators or political mudslinging. Today, however, the anchor's voice was remarkably animated.

“The so-called ‘Lysis Shock’ is sweeping across South Korea and upending the beauty market.”

The screen cut to a stark, white laboratory setting.

A cold serial number, AEC-101, appeared alongside the sharply defined proprietary logo for Lysis.

The footage that followed was visually brutal.

Under a high-magnification lens, the moment a treated hair sample came into contact with the Lysis gel, the black strands began to fade.

The binding structure at the root unraveled first, and then the entire strand dissolved like wet ash. No redness, irritation, or micro-cuts were left on the skin’s surface.

“This technology, which enables painless and flawless hair removal with a single application, shows immediate results even on the most sensitive areas like the face and underarms due to its exceptionally low skin irritation.”

The broadcast transitioned immediately to a man-on-the-street interview.

A man in his thirties wearing a sharp gray suit stood before the camera. His jawline was smooth, without a single razor nick or even the shadow of a five o'clock shadow.

“Every guy knows the struggle. No matter how close you shave with a razor in the morning, by afternoon, that blue shadow creeps back up. It makes you look exhausted and older, which was always a huge stress for me."

"Honestly, Lysis is quite expensive. But before a critical business meeting or an important date, I use it without fail. It completely changes your first impression.”

Once the interview wrapped up, the camera cut to the main street of Gangnam Station.

The massive electronic billboards of skyscrapers, which had blazed with advertisements for laser hair removal and waxing packages just a few months ago, were dim and dark.

Bearing a solemn expression, the anchor continued speaking as the footage showed a protest by dermatologists wearing red headbands.

“Barely a month after the launch of Lysis, waxing salons across the metropolitan area are closing one after another. At major Gangnam clinics, revenue from laser hair removal has fallen by more than ninety percent compared to the same period last year.”

“The advancement of technology is, quite literally, dissolving the ecosystem of an existing service industry.”

Sihyun took a sip of her cold beer, her gaze still anchored to the news screen. A faint, crooked smile touched the corners of her red lips.

“Lee Seohan really is terrifying. Even when I was reviewing the legal framework as Aeterno’s legal counsel, I never imagined it would have this kind of destructive impact.”

Seoyun set down her glass of dark beer and nodded slowly. Her calm eyes gleamed with a steady light, as if processing the subtitles and figures on the screen in real-time.

“This isn’t just a beauty product succeeding, Sihyun. It’s a demolition charge placed under a high-cost, low-efficiency fortress built by the medical cartel."

Stolen novel; please report.

"One piece of technology from CEO Lee is rewriting the rules they built their system on.”

Sihyun lightly tapped the smartphone sitting on the table. The screen lit up, displaying Aeterno’s real-time revenue trends and royalty settlement statements.

“S-Group really pushed it through. Pairing their distribution network with entertainment marketing made the penetration rate insane."

"The dermatology association is piling up lawsuits, but Lysis sits precisely on the border between a pharmaceutical and a cosmeceutical. It's a legally precarious position—and the more precarious the position, the easier it is for Taesan to move.”

Seoyun savored the heavy bitterness of her beer, staring intently at the red letters reading 90% Drop in Revenue on the news banner.

“In the end, it’s just the natural choice of the market. People are no longer willing to endure pain while paying exorbitant fees."

"When a more elegant, definitive, and convenient alternative appears right before their eyes, who would cling to obsolete technology? Mr. Lee is drawing the flow of massive capital straight into his own architecture.”

Sihyun leaned deep into her backrest, letting out a heavy sigh mixed with awe.

“Honestly, every royalty slip that hits Aeterno’s account gives me chills. This isn’t revenue anymore. It’s leverage.”

“Even Vice Chairman Hyunjin Jeong of S-Group originally tried to use Seohan as a pawn on his chessboard, but lately, he's been practically begging through his secretariat to extend the exclusive Lysis contract.”

“What’s truly terrifying about him,” Seoyun countered softly, setting down her glass, “is that even though this destructive storm is being called by his name, the man himself is likely sitting in a corner of his lab, expressionlessly staring at data on a monitor. To him, the sound of a trillion-won market collapsing is probably nothing more than background noise.”

Sihyun couldn't help but let out a chuckle. As she lightly swirled her IPA glass, the amber liquid sloshed inside.

A smooth jazz melody flowed from the pub's speakers, yet the teaser video for Lysis on the TV screen continued to dominate the room, casting brilliant flashes of light across the walls.

Night deepened quietly over Gwanghwamun, and their conversation sank deeper into the shape of the massive capital structure forming around Aeterno.

“What exactly is Lee Seohan pushing himself so hard for?” Seoyun asked, murmuring as she stared into space.

“Sometimes, I want to open up his brain and scan it. He doesn't even touch the astronomical wealth Aeterno rakes in, choosing to live entirely in the darkness of his lab.”

The news anchor was now listing the colossal economic impact the proprietary technology of Lysis would bring, unable to hide his excitement.

In Sihyun's eyes, the dazzling numbers on the screen weren't merely currency values—they looked like a massive net of contracts tightening around Aeterno.

Seoyun turned her head to look down at Gwanghwamun Square through the window. The rush-hour crowd was walking briskly, each person glued to their smartphone screen.

A significant portion of them were likely refreshing the Lysis subscription page at that very moment, or would be applying that miraculous liquid to their skin in their bathrooms tomorrow morning.

One of the office workers who had walked into the pub said with a laugh, “I just bought it too. If you factor in the cost of razor blades, this is way cheaper in the long run.”

The man next to him held out his phone, showing the Lysis subscription page. A Sold Out sign was flashing. The number of people signing up for restock notifications grew by the minute.

Sihyun glanced at the screen. The public was adapting fast.

To the public, none of that mattered.

Not the survival of an old industry.

Not the fury of the medical community.

Not the warehouses full of useless beauty equipment.

What mattered was tomorrow morning.

A cleaner jawline. No stinging under the arms. A little less hesitation before the mirror.

Sihyun suddenly realized what was more terrifying than numbers. It wasn't the revenue charts. It was consumer habit.

A person who had tasted painless convenience would not return to razor blades and burning lasers.

The market was not ruled by contracts.

It was ruled by morning routines.

And Lysis had already entered those mornings.

“This is only the beginning,” Seoyun murmured to herself.

“Once Seohan punches holes in the old system, I can step through the cracks, take up the sharp chisel of policy and regulation, and sculpt a new world.”

At least in Sihyun Kang's eyes, this resembled an unwritten structure of dependency, quietly seeping into the public's daily routine.

Sihyun downed the rest of her beer in one gulp. The cold liquid slid down her throat.

She realized with chilling clarity that she was standing atop the most perilous, yet magnificent, contract of her entire career as a senior partner.

The two women's glasses clinked briefly in the air, ringing out a clear, crisp sound.

The anchor's voice on the TV was now broadcasting the explosive response from international markets, breaking the news of an expansion into North America.

While the warmth inside the pub grew, the space around the two women by the window remained dominated by a cool, dry stillness.

On screen, a male model stroked his smooth jawline, casting a confident smile toward the camera.

Hidden behind that smile was a silent massacre of capital—tens of thousands of laser machines instantly reduced to scrap metal, and thousands of waxing salons watching their resale value collapse overnight.

Yet, none of that was anyone's concern. The masses were simply ecstatic over the tiny miracle occurring on their own skin.

Sihyun suddenly pictured Seohan's expressionless face. Amidst all this commotion, he was likely sitting in his lab, indifferently clicking through to the next dataset.

Just then, Sihyun’s smartphone buzzed with a heavy vibration. It was a brief report from Taesan’s government affairs team.

[Spike in inquiries regarding Lysis. Joint response movements detected within dermatology and beauty equipment industries.]

Sihyun narrowed her eyes as she looked down at the screen.

The storm had barely scratched the surface of the market. The moment a single technology found its way into people's bathrooms, those pushed aside by it would begin to move.

The night was still long.

And the architecture they had begun to call an empire had only just finished its first fortress wall.