Europe's China (2)
"So... the only thing we can do now is deny that these exposés are true?"
The chairman of Divence trembled with rage — his right-hand man, who had been with him since the very beginning of his career, had betrayed him.
Knock knock knock—
Urgent knocking echoed through the room, and a panic-stricken secretary entered the conference room. Without even greeting the people staring at her, she rushed over to the large wall-mounted TV and turned it on.
The screen showed the press room of the Élysée Palace.
Soon after, the Minister of Economy stepped up to the podium with a grim expression and delivered what amounted to a death sentence for Divence.
The chairman stared in shock at the minister — an acquaintance he'd known for years, who had told him not to worry. Before he could even open his mouth, one of the executives in the room received a phone call.
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have answered, but after checking the caller ID, he picked up. A brief exchange later, he turned to the chairman with a pallid face.
"Chairman... I've just received word from the government. They say they can no longer help us."
Watching the government draw a clear line — first the TV announcement, then the declaration that no further assistance would be provided — the chairman could only let out a hollow laugh.
"It's over. Completely over."
Until that government announcement, he had been desperately searching for a way out. But that declaration had crushed any remaining hope.
"If I'd known it would come to this, I never would have started..."
He regretted his choices now, but regret changed nothing.
Scrape—
One of the executives who had been sitting near the chairman, listening to his sigh-laden muttering, shot up from his seat and dashed out of the conference room.
"Shred every document in the third drawer! Everything!"
Starting with that executive calling his subordinate as he ran out, the rest of the leadership — who had finally understood from the chairman's self-deprecating resignation that the ship was sinking — all scrambled to their feet and fled.
Some tried to shred sensitive documents and information. Others called their lawyers to confirm whether they bore any legal responsibility. Still others, even though it was too late, began claiming that everything had been the chairman's unilateral decision — that they had merely followed orders, trying to minimize their own culpability.
With the executives who should have been steering the company focused entirely on saving their own skins, Divence — already teetering — began to collapse rapidly.
"Guess that's what you get from a country of revolutionaries — they sure know how to burn things down."
The protesters, who had started by demonstrating against the government that had been shielding Divence — furious that the products they'd purchased had falsified performance claims and that the company had systematically covered it up — had naturally turned into a mob. They became looters ransacking nearby shops.
Unlike the chairman, who had cleanly accepted everything, the other executives were scrambling wildly to find a way out.
"What happened to the spies?"
All the spies were fit men in their early-to-mid thirties. By the time they finished the investigation, went through trial, and served their sentences, they'd be well into their fifties.
"So they'll spend the best years of their lives in prison, huh."
They'd endure their time in a foreign prison thinking about the money they'd made, only to get out and find themselves completely broke. That would be something worth watching.
"If we leave it like this, Divence will naturally go under, right?"
They'd already been pushed out of the market and were fading. With their last gamble failing, they'd naturally fade into history.
With proof that not a single person who had used our product on the market had reported any side effects, sales were skyrocketing like crazy.
Even when an innovative new drug launches, a lot of people step back and wait to see what happens — unless they're desperate. But now, past the one-week, two-week, three-week mark and approaching a full month with zero side effects reported, anyone with even a hint of hair loss or who'd been worried about thinning hair was swarming in to scoop up the ampoules.
"What kind of inquiries? Are they still clinging to my pant leg begging for a global launch?"
From what Athena was saying, I could guess who these people were.
"Hmm... It'd be good to send them some, actually."
They were influential people in their respective countries. Building relationships with them ahead of time couldn't hurt.
"Still, these are non-commercial products, and there are security concerns too. If they want to send someone in person to pick them up, I'll allow it. Same price, though."
It wasn't like they could use them without VIP Clinic access anyway, so they'd understand the high price. And for these people, money was probably meaningless in the first place.
About two days after I'd sent the terms, I think?
It wasn't public knowledge, but representatives of wealthy and powerful people flocked to Korea, carefully packaged the products that were only available at the VIP Clinic, and returned to their home countries.
Two hundred and fifty billion won a month just from the VIP market. As time passed and word spread through the VIPs' exclusive networks, there was room for even more growth.
"So it's really over now, right?"
With even the final decisions taken care of, I could finally be free from this chaotic life.
"Yeah, yeah. They should be able to handle that much."
The moment I felt like peace had finally returned to my daily life, all the strength drained from my body.
"Oh, come on. This is comfortable."
I was practically melted into my chair, lying back, and she started nagging me to sit up straight. Just as I was enjoying my bad-posture comfort while watching some YouTube, Athena forcibly adjusted my body into the correct position.
"A little?"
Something felt off.
It could actually be interesting information. But I had a strong feeling it was more likely to be the opposite.
"...What is it?"
Athena said that as she displayed some data in front of me.
"What's this? A phone book?"
I vaguely remembered seeing a phone book like the ones my grandparents used when I visited them as a very young child, before they passed away.
"Huh? Wait a second..."
Something seemed wrong, so I read more carefully. It wasn't just a collection of phone numbers.
The thirteen-digit numbers next to the names, starting with birthdates, were unmistakably Resident Registration Numbers. Next to them were long strings of home addresses, device identification info, and even USIM serial numbers.
Most of the sensitive personal information of Korean citizens was floating right in front of my eyes.
"I know you didn't hack this... so what the fuck, did someone get hit again?"
Personal information leaks were practically an annual event at this point. People had become numb to it — a major incident every six months or so. But this looked serious.
"No, not 'fresh off the press.' This is insane, isn't it?"
The hackers who stole it deserved to die, but I wanted to murder the telecom company that got hacked even more.
"But what's a 'subscriber master database'?"
"29.6 million records... Don't tell me it's that company?"
Korea's largest telecom provider — the one I used too — had roughly that many subscribers.
"...What does it matter. The info that was leaked before I met you has probably been scattered across the world already."
Korean personal data had basically become public domain by this point. Before I met Athena, several sites and services I'd signed up for had been hacked too, so my information had already been seen by who knows how many people.
"Putting that aside — aren't they supposed to notify people when they get hacked?"
Though I couldn't remember ever seeing that law actually being followed in my life.
Information on more than half the Korean population had been leaked. The sheer volume meant it could take a long time to figure out, and I could understand that — I'd give them that much leeway.
But they were already showing signs that they were going to clam up and try to sweep it under the rug. That pissed me off.
"Almost thirty million records stolen, and they think they can cover it up?"
The hacker hadn't released the stolen data yet. But the moment it hit the public, it would inevitably surface.
I thought I had no expectations for telecom companies, so I couldn't be disappointed. But now that it had actually happened, I was feeling something beyond disappointment.
"Ah. I don't want to work."
My punishment for obtaining Athena — a life with no calm days — had dragged in yet another incident.