The Ghost Fortress-15 <Friendly Stakes>
The main conference room of Aether Bio.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, layers of red taillights flowed slowly along the eight lanes of Teheran-ro.
In the center of the room, a long, practical white composite table stood instead of luxury marble. A glass whiteboard covering one entire wall was packed with complex clinical timelines and molecular structures, partially erased here and there. The space was thick with the raw, cold tension unique to a bio-venture.
Simple mugs from the company cafeteria sat on the table, the faint steam rising from the cooling Americanos dissolving into the chilly air.
Managing Director Kim of Korea Investment Partners sat with his shirt sleeves rolled up, his elbows dug into the edge of the table as he gripped a tablet. The veins on the back of his hands bulged.
The analyst sitting next to him pressed his back firmly against his chair, repeatedly flicking the buckle of the leather bag resting on the floor. The sharp click of metal against metal echoed off the conference room walls.
"Does this make any sense?"
Kim tapped his tablet screen. The display was filled with Aether Bio’s recent spending records.
"The company has practically no revenue, yet there are hundreds of millions of won in expenditures entirely unrelated to R&D. A luxury sedan leased under the corporate name, and the CEO's office packed with imported Italian furniture. Out of our 60 billion won in cumulative investments, the remaining balance is only 6 billion won. At most, that's an eighteen-month runway."
The analyst from Intervest lowered his voice.
"With cash flow in this state, pushing a down-round capital raise under these conditions could expose him to fiduciary duty claims from existing shareholders. CEO Lee Seohan is putting the company at risk with unilateral decisions."
As murmurs filled the room, the door opened.
The sound of leather loafers stepping onto the floor was barely audible. Every gaze in the room instantly snapped to the entrance.
It was Taehee Yoon.
Her hair was neatly pulled back into a low bun, framing a face defined by cold composure. Beneath the cuff of her navy tweed jacket, a vintage Cartier watch gleamed faintly. It was a style that asserted status through the raw texture of metal rather than flashing gems.
The chatter in the room died down completely with her entrance.
Yoon walked over to the head of the table and took her seat. Smoothing the lapels of her navy jacket, she calmly looked around at the men.
"You all seem deeply concerned. Understandably so, considering the company’s runway is running dry."
As she settled in, she gave a brief nod to her attorney.
"Isn't the down-round proposed by CEO Lee Seohan a bit too harsh on the shareholders? That's why we at Artemis have prepared an alternative."
Yoon’s senior director operated a tablet, flashing data onto the main projector screen.
"Artemis Partners has valued Aether Bio at 140 billion won, despite its lack of any track record in licensing out technology. That is a massive premium over the 90 billion won baseline the existing shareholders previously agreed upon."
"If CEO Lee simply signs the contract according to these terms, the on-paper returns for our existing shareholders will be guaranteed instantly."
As the figure of 140 billion won filled the screen, the eyes of the legacy VC shareholders wavered.
They had already established a quiet understanding with Yoon. Even if the 2x liquidation preference clause demanded by Artemis was attached, their immediate on-paper gains would skyrocket several times over.
As long as they pressured Lee Seohan into a corner, everyone walked away with a profit.
Seohan observed the speed at which the shareholders' gazes wavered, as if tracking data metrics. His fingertip clicked the remote control.
The display switched, revealing the fine print of the contract. A specific clause was highlighted in bold red.
"This is the reality of the 140 billion won valuation presented by Artemis."
Seohan’s dry voice echoed through the conference room.
"The shareholders in this room intended to inflate your on-paper valuation in exchange for agreeing to this 2x liquidation preference. But have any of you actually calculated the real-world liquidation scenario?"
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Seohan lightly tapped the white table with the tip of his pen.
"Attach a 2x liquidation preference to Artemis’s 45 billion won investment, and their senior payout becomes 90 billion won."
"If the clinical trials face delays or if we fail to meet the agreed-upon milestones, Artemis can immediately exercise their drag-along rights to flip Aether Bio to a global Big Pharma. In that liquidation, Artemis gets paid first. Ninety billion won, before any legacy shareholder touches a single cent."
Seohan turned his gaze toward the legacy VCs.
"Once that 90 billion won is drained off the top, there will be absolutely no residual assets left for the legacy shareholders to split. Exactly zero won."
"Managing Partner Yoon has no intention of growing this company. She plans to use these terms as a pretext to force a wholesale acquisition and monopolize the liquidation proceeds. Blinded by mere accounting figures, you were about to sign a contract that completely obliterates your own assets."
A heavy silence descended over the room.
The faces of the shareholders who had aligned with Yoon to corner Seohan froze. A cold shiver ran down their spines as they realized Yoon had factored their own equity into her predatory liquidation calculus.
Seohan locked eyes with Yoon.
The corner of Yoon’s mouth twitched slightly. Instead of being rattled, her gaze betrayed a sharp flash of intrigue at how cleanly Seohan had dismantled her trap by fracturing the shareholders' alignment.
"Therefore, I reject these terms."
Seohan pushed aside the shareholder registry sitting on the table.
"Instead, I will proceed with a third-party share issuance at the 90 billion won valuation you already agreed to. This capital comes with zero strings attached—free from the interference of conglomerates or external private equity funds."
Kim interjected urgently.
"Even if we issue shares at a 90 billion won valuation, where on earth are you sourcing that massive 45 billion won investment from?"
Seohan replied smoothly.
"The investor is the global IP holding company, Aeterno. They will be backing the full amount of 45 billion won."
It was the exact same 45 billion won. Yet, while one option was a noose, the other was a shield.
In an instant, the silence gripping the conference room shattered.
"...Aeterno?"
"The company collecting those massive Lysis royalties?"
The shareholders turned to one another, a low wave of murmurs rippling across the room. The space instantly buzzed with frantic mental math and wild speculation.
It was the definitive proof that Lee Seohan had quietly secured an alternative capital lifeline entirely outside their radar.
Yoon’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits for the first time.
Aeterno. A ghost entity wrapped in secrecy, shrouded only by rumors that massive flows of capital from conglomerate elites like Hyunjin Jeong were quietly siphoning into it.
Yet, that very entity had materialized right on cue to act as Aether Bio’s white knight.
Yoon knew intuitively. While there was no paper trail linking Lee Seohan as the true owner of Aeterno, he had meticulously orchestrated a board capable of tearing her net to pieces using that shadow firm.
The shareholders' mental calculators had already reached a verdict. It was the 90 billion won valuation they had already signed off on. With no predatory clauses, verified capital stabilizing management control, and a clear path toward IPO preparation, they had absolutely no rationale to oppose it.
"And what is the closing timeline for the 45 billion won injection?"
Kim cleared his throat, his voice carrying a lingering note of skepticism over whether a paper-thin holding company like Aeterno could actually mobilize tens of billions in cash.
"The target funding deadline is set for one year from now."
A few dry scoffs broke out across the room. Yoon rested her chin on her hand, tracking Seohan with an unblinking gaze. To her eyes, the man standing before them was either a complete fraud or a masterful gambler sitting on an unreadable hand.
"A whole year? CEO Lee, Aether Bio’s remaining cash reserves sit at 6 billion won. With a burn rate of over 300 million won a month, a year from now, this company will be a barely breathing corpse."
The Intervest analyst practically dropped his pen onto the table. Seohan casually swiped to a financial simulation graph on his tablet.
"Hoarding that 6 billion won until now was strictly a survival tactic. But the moment Aeterno's investment is locked in, the utility of those remaining funds shifts entirely."
Seohan locked eyes with Kim.
"We will execute a binding 45 billion won Letter of Commitment (LOC) between Aeterno and Aether Bio. Even before the cash is physically disbursed, the signed LOC becomes bankable collateral. It gives us a credit line, not a promise."
"If needed, we can secure a short-term bridge line backed by the LOC itself. The point is, we no longer need to ration that 6 billion won like life support. Starting next month, we can deploy our capital aggressively directly into Phase 2 trials."
Seohan raised a single finger.
"Within one year, we will launch an additional global Phase 2 trial and push through IND filings for two follow-on pipelines. The physical disbursement of the 45 billion won will be directly tied to the trial initiations."
Yoon silently set her fountain pen down onto the table. Her gaze traced heavily over the clauses of his draft proposal.
"Using a shadow IP holding company as leverage to silence the legacy shareholders and seize total control over the board... With these terms, the board and shareholders lose any procedural grounds to object. This architecture was designed from the absolute beginning to force compliance."
Even if she mobilized top-tier law firms to construct a breach of contract or fiduciary duty claim, there wasn't a single vulnerability to exploit.
By cleanly framing Aeterno as an independent third-party investor and locking down a binding 45 billion won LOC, finding a legal flaw was virtually impossible. Every procedure had been arranged into an unassailable wall of legality.
"I'm giving you one week. Either vote in favor of Aeterno's third-party share issuance, or hand your fates over to Managing Partner Yoon’s 140 billion won poison pill."
Without a backward glance, Seohan turned and walked out of the conference room.
Click. Long after the door snapped shut, no one in the room spoke. Only two stark choices remained on the table.
The 140 billion won noose from Artemis. Or the 90 billion won shield from Aeterno.
The shareholders were already tapping away furiously at their financial calculators, their minds clearly made up by the hand Seohan had just dealt.
Yoon stared at her own reflection in the blank projector screen and let out a quiet laugh.
"Aeterno..."
Her fingertip slowly traced a line on the document draft.
[Independent Third-Party Investor].
"We'll just have to see exactly how independent they turn out to be."
