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Intro. The air on the top floor of Jin-ah Tower is not breathed; it is endured. It's a pressurized, frigid environment loaded with an expensive perfume that smells of ozone and rare flowers that only grow in the dark. Through the five-meter-high armored windows, Seoul looks like a toy model, a collection of insignificant lights that belong to the woman who inhabits this Olympus of steel and glass.

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