January 1, 2037 | 12:00 AM
Amidst the obsidian darkness of the seas surrounding the island, a sudden burst of neon blue light cut through the horizon. Through advanced hologram technology, a stage had been conjured, appearing like a sacred altar floating in mid-air.
A world-renowned hostess, draped in a metallic evening gown, stepped onto the platform with a perfectly rehearsed smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen... Today is not just the dawn of a new year. It is the very second that humanity is liberated! Please join me in welcoming the man who has redefined the word ‘Paradise’... The CEO of Saito Corporation, Mr. Tokamiya Saito!”
The applause was deafening, a thunderous roar that vibrated through the air. Saito stepped forward in a pitch-black suit. His demeanor was eerily calm, possessing a stillness that commanded the room. He took his seat on a high-backed chair opposite the hostess.
“Mr. Saito,” she began, leaning in. “The entire world is talking about the miracles of ‘GREM.’ Recent reports indicate it can completely cure severe drug addiction and even help men move away from the vices of the physical world. How does it feel to know your product has saved the world from such filth?”
Saito remained silent for a heartbeat. He didn't offer a polite smile. Instead, he stared deep into the camera lens, as if piercing through the screens to look directly into the eyes of every human being on Earth.
“Saved the world?” Saito’s voice was cold, yet it vibrated with an undeniable power. “...Don't use such ‘kind’ words. I didn't come here to play the saint and pat the backs of the sick.”
He stood up slowly, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the very atmosphere.
“The world you see right now isn't ‘sick.’ It is rotten beyond repair! Drugs... violence... even the superficial beauty used to deceive one another day after day. These filth are cancers that have gnawed at the human soul for far too long!”
He stepped to the edge of the stage, his eyes flashing with a madness he no longer cared to hide.
“My goal isn't to heal. It is to ‘Reset the Board’! I am here to destroy the moronic values that measure a person’s worth by their outer shell. I will bury the drug lords and those who profit from carnal lust in a hell from which they will never wake!
GREM isn't just a game... It is an incinerator that will burn this vile world to ashes, and in its place, I will establish a perfect New World!”
He concluded with a sentence that left the hall as silent as a graveyard.
“From this moment forth, the filthy reality ends... and the paradise I have built will be the only reality you desire. Anyone who stands in my way... disappear along with the Old World!”
“YEAH!!!” “Incredible!” “This guy is freaking insane!”
Cheers and roars of approval erupted from attendees in both the real world and within GREM. A new era had officially begun. The GREM system was now fully operational—offering men and women unlimited access to the virtual world. However...
***
January 3, 2037 | 5:30 PM | Inside the GREM Virtual World
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At the Central Hub, the nexus connecting to the various dimensions of GREM, the landscape was designed as a vast meadow stretching as far as the eye could see, surrounded by floating holographic advertisements. Millions of people wandered through, searching for their heart’s desires.
“WARNING: THE SALE OF SEXUAL OBJECTS BY HUMANS IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED IN ALL CASES. PERSISTENT VIOLATIONS WILL RESULT IN AN IMMEDIATE SYSTEM BAN.”
An AI voice issued the warning in a flat, monotone drone as a girl group prepared to showcase their dance moves in outfits so short and revealing they hoped to rack up millions of likes.
“WARNING: THE SALE OF SEXUAL OBJECTS BY HUMANS IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED IN ALL CASES. PERSISTENT VIOLATIONS WILL RESULT IN AN IMMEDIATE SYSTEM BAN.”
The warning repeated near a handsome young man who was gyrating his hips, showing off his physique to the screams of adoring fans. Everyone froze in confusion. But, fueled by their long-standing fame, they chose to test the system by ignoring the warning...
Poof!
Their avatars vanished from the system in an instant.
In a private room somewhere in South Korea.
“What the hell is this?!” A beautiful Korean woman screamed in a fit of rage as she was kicked out of the system, greeted by a message stating she was banned for twenty-four hours. “Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT!”
She shrieked in frustration. The cash in her wallet was nearly gone, and her only way of making a living—using her beauty as capital—had been blocked.
Despite GREM’s clear warnings to both buyers and sellers that ‘human sexual objectification is prohibited,’ the influencers, actors, and singers who once thrived still wanted to try their luck. The result? They had wasted their money on expensive GREM devices only to find they couldn't generate a single cent of income from them.
This phenomenon spread like wildfire, especially across Asia, where the values of 'handsome' and 'beautiful' had once been worshipped and highly profitable. The Old World was no longer crowded. Why pay a premium for human beauty when you could purchase even greater perfection for less than a hundred baht from a GREM AI?
Faced with ironclad rules and inhuman competition, those who lived off the ‘Shell’ found themselves defeated, with nowhere left to stand.
Driven to a dead end, the young woman walked toward her balcony. She stared blankly at the fading light of day. The brilliance she once basked in and the fame she once held... had now been extinguished.
Whish... Her body plummeted from the tenth floor, disappearing into the creeping darkness below.
***
January 8, 2037 | 12:30 PM
Protests erupted worldwide. Groups of women who once profited from their looks gathered in front of stores selling GREM equipment, chanting:
“Free our Beauty! Free our Bodies!”
It was a plea for GREM to allow them to sell sexual content indirectly. It was no different from when influencers first began selling their sexuality, hiding behind phrases like “freedom of expression” or “bodily autonomy.” But this time, the euphemisms didn't work. GREM’s response was just as indirect:
“We do not wish to support indirect exploitation, and how we choose to operate is our own right and freedom. After all, we created and own GREM.”
The protests didn't last long before they began to fade. What GREM was doing wasn't oppression, coercion, or exploitation. It was the legitimate exercise of their rights within a free—yet brutal—market competition.
The people of GREM felt no reason to feel guilty. At most, there was a faint pity that barely registered. In the days when beauty first boomed, everyone who loved it claimed it wasn't wrong to be obsessed, that it was ‘their right.’
Today, the people who love GREM, and its creators, can claim the exact same thing: “It is my right.”
***
January 10, 2037 | 3:30 PM | GREM Special Administrative Islands
Inside a gargantuan office equipped with a kitchen, a plush bed, a luxury bathroom, and female maids at his beck and call, Saito sat sipping wine. He watched the screens reporting the global protests and the suicides of world-famous celebrities with an air of complete relaxation.
“I thought there would be more than this... Hmph.”
