2026-01-25 18:09:51“Just sell five years.” The words hung in the air.
That would pay the debt. That would save his father. That would leave money leftover for food, for a new bike, for a heater in the winter.
Five years.
Evan was only nineteen. He had plenty of years. If he lived to be eighty, what was the difference if he died at seventy-five?
He looked at the man in the suit. The man looked like a devil selling water in a desert.
Evan shook his head and walked away, but the number stayed in his mind. Fifty thousand.
Room 304 was small. It had no window. There was only one bed and a machine that beeped with a slow, steady rhythm.
Beep... beep... beep.
His father, Arthur, lay on the bed. He looked very small. His skin was gray, like old paper. There were tubes in his nose and a wire attached to his chest.
Evan walked to the side of the bed. He pulled a metal chair close and sat down.
"Dad?" he whispered.
Arthur’s eyelids fluttered. They opened slowly. His eyes were cloudy. It took him a moment to focus on Evan’s face.
"Evan," Arthur breathed. His voice was like dry leaves scraping together. "You... came."
"I’m here, Dad." Evan took his father’s hand. It was cold. "How do you feel?"
"Like I am... fading," Arthur said. He tried to smile, but it was weak. "Did you... did you pay the bill?"
Evan looked at the floor. He looked at the empty spot where his datapad usually sat in his pocket. "I’m working on it. I sold the bike. I sold the pad. I made a payment today."
He lied. He didn't say the payment was useless. He didn't want his father to worry.
Arthur squeezed Evan’s hand. The grip was surprisingly strong for a moment.
"Evan," Arthur said. His tone became serious. "Look at me."
Evan looked up.
"I know... how much it costs," Arthur whispered. "I know we don't have it."
"I will find it," Evan said. "I will get a second job. I will—"
"No," Arthur cut him off. He coughed, a wet, rattling sound. The machine beeped faster for a second, then slowed down. "Listen to me. Do not go... to them."
Evan froze. "To who?"
"The Exchange," Arthur hissed. "I hear... the nurses talk. I hear the families in the hall. They sell their time. They sell their life."
Evan looked away. "It pays well, Dad. It’s fast."
"It is a trap," Arthur said. He pulled Evan’s hand closer. "Time is the only thing... that is truly yours. Money comes. Money goes. But a second lost... is lost forever."
"But without money, you die!" Evan said. His voice cracked. Tears stung his eyes. "I can't let you die, Dad. You are all I have."
Arthur closed his eyes. He took a rattling breath. "We all die, son. It is natural. But to sell your soul... to become a product... that is worse than death."
He opened his eyes again. They were fierce, burning with a last bit of energy.
"Promise me," Arthur whispered. "Don't gamble your future. Don't trade your life for mine. My time is done. Yours is just starting."
Evan bit his lip. He could not promise. He nodded his head, but he did not speak.
"Promise me," Arthur said again.
"Rest now, Dad," Evan said softly. "Save your strength."
Arthur looked at him. He knew Evan hadn't promised. But he was too weak to argue. His eyes closed. His grip on Evan’s hand loosened.
Beep... beep... beep.
Evan sat there for an hour. He watched the numbers on the medical machine.
HEART RATE: WEAK.
MEDICATION LEVEL: LOW.
REFILL REQUIRED: 2 HOURS.
If he didn't pay for the refill in two hours, the machine would stop. The pain would come back. His father’s heart would stop.
Evan stood up. He kissed his father’s forehead. It tasted like salt.
"I’m sorry, Dad," Evan whispered into the quiet room. "I can't let you go. Not for five years. Not for anything."
Evan walked out of the hospital. The rain had stopped, but the city was dark. The only light came from the Upper District.
High above the slums, giant skyscrapers pierced the clouds. They glowed with blue and gold lights. That was where the rich lived. That was where the people who bought time lived. They lived for two hundred, three hundred years, staying young forever while the poor died at forty.
Evan began to walk. He didn't walk home. He walked toward the center of the city.
His boots splashed in puddles. He walked past the closed market. He walked past the gangs standing on corners. He didn't feel fear. He only felt the crushing weight of the debt. 44,300 credits.
He walked until the streets became cleaner. The broken pavement turned into smooth stone. The garbage piles disappeared.
There it was.
The Exchange.
It was the biggest building in the city. It looked like a giant needle made of black glass. It had no windows, only smooth, dark walls that reflected the city lights.
A line of people stood outside. They were like the people in the hospital corridor—tired, poor, desperate. They stood in silence. They were waiting to sell pieces of themselves.
Evan walked to the front. He looked at the entrance. It wasn't a door. It was a wide archway with green lasers scanning everyone who entered.
Above the archway, a digital sign scrolled:
CURRENT RATE: 10,000 CREDITS PER YEAR. TRADE YOUR TIME. SAVE YOUR LIFE.
Evan stood on the sidewalk. His heart hammered against his ribs.
If he stepped through that scanner, there was no going back. He would sign the contract. They would hook him up to the machine. They would drain five years of his life essence.
Maybe he would lose his memories of being nineteen. Maybe he would just age instantly. He didn't know how the technology worked. Nobody in the slums knew. They just knew it paid.
He heard his father’s voice in his head. “Don't gamble your future.”
But then he heard the beep of the monitor. Beep... beep... decreasing. Refill required.
Evan looked at his hands. They were young, strong hands. He had time. He had so much time. Surely, he could spare a little. Just enough to be safe. Just enough to stop the fear.
He took a step forward. The green light of the scanner hit his face. It felt warm.
A robotic voice spoke from the wall. "WELCOME, CITIZEN. PLEASE STEP FORWARD FOR BIO-SCAN."
Evan stood outside The Exchange Registration Hall, staring at the biometric scanners. He took a breath, held it, and lifted his foot to cross the line.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 414
"You..." Jax gasped. His human eye filled with tears of pure, absolute despair. "You knew. You knew the Queen was coming.""I knew," Evan nodded slowly. Jax looked down at his own side of the table. His massive mountain of black chips was completely gone. There was nothing left. Just the green velvet, and the burning cigar hole. He had bet his life. He had bet his empire. He had bet his organic organs. He had zero balance. "Zero," Jax whispered. The realization hit him like a physical blow. He was bankrupt. He was empty. "Elimination confirmed," the Dealer announced loudly. From the dark shadows behind Jax, the five faceless guards stepped forward. They did not hesitate. The rules of the Obsidian Tournament were sacred. The House always collected its debts. The guards raised their long spears. The bright blue plasma energy hummed loudly. They aimed the sharp, burning tips directly at Jax’s back. Jax did not try to run. He did not scream. He did not beg for his life like the y
Chapter 413
The laugh died instantly in Jax’s metallic throat. It sounded like an engine sputtering and choking on bad oil.The thick, expensive brown cigar slipped from between Jax’s synthetic silver teeth. Jax did not even try to catch it. The cigar fell through the air. It hit the green velvet table with a soft thud. The burning red cherry at the tip of the cigar touched the soft cloth. A thin wisp of dark gray smoke rose into the air. The fire burned a small, black, ugly hole directly into the beautiful green velvet. Jax did not notice the burning table. He did not notice the screaming crowd. Jax stared at the five cards on the board. He stared at the two cards in front of Evan. Eight. Nine. Ten. Jack. Queen. All Spades. Jax’s single human eye was bulging out of its socket. The pale, greasy skin around his eye was twitching violently. On the other side of his face, his glowing red cybernetic eye was spinning completely out of control. The tiny mechanical lens zoomed in on the cards.
Chapter 412
The rich brokers in the balconies looked at the Eight and the Nine. They looked at Jax’s Kings. They thought Evan had lost. "He has nothing!" a man in the crowd yelled. "He has Eight-high!"But the Dealer in the black tuxedo was a professional. He was a machine trained to read cards instantly. The Dealer looked at Evan’s cards. He looked at the five community cards on the board. The Dealer’s eyes widened. For the very first time in his entire career, the emotionless Dealer actually gasped. His mouth fell slightly open. The Dealer looked at the board: King of Spades, Jack of Spades, Ten of Spades, Queen of Spades. The Dealer looked at Evan’s hand: Nine of Spades, Eight of Spades. Eight. Nine. Ten. Jack. Queen. All Spades. The shockwave hit the room. It did not hit slowly. It hit instantly, like a physical explosion of pure disbelief. "Straight Flush," the Dealer whispered. His voice actually shook. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, his voice echoing through the massive,
Chapter 411
Jax picked up the cigar with his human hand. He placed it between his synthetic silver teeth. He bit down on it happily. The waiter quickly pulled out a heavy golden lighter. He flicked the lighter open. A bright orange flame popped up. The waiter held the flame to the end of the cigar. Jax puffed slowly. The end of the cigar glowed a bright, angry red. Jax inhaled deeply, filling his remaining human lungs with the rich smoke. He blew a massive, thick cloud of gray smoke straight across the green velvet table. The smoke curled and twisted in the warm amber light, floating directly into Evan’s face. Jax was utterly, completely convinced that Evan’s luck had finally run out. "Look at you, boy," Jax sneered. He pointed his smoking cigar at Evan. "Look at your dirty clothes. Look at your bloody nose. You really thought you could come into my city and beat me? You thought a garbage draw could beat a Full House?"Behind Evan’s chair, Marco was weeping. The tough, old grifter had tears
Chapter 410
Evan had closed his eyes during the small, boring hands. He had listened to the sound of the paper cards spinning inside the black metal box. He had memorized the sound. He had realized that the shuffling machine was not perfectly calibrated. It had a tiny, microscopic flaw. The small rubber wheel inside the machine, the wheel that pushed the cards from the left side to the right side, was slightly worn down. It was old. Because the rubber wheel was worn down, it slipped exactly once every fifty-two shuffles. It was a tiny error. A normal human would never notice it. But Evan’s mind was trained to see patterns. Because the left rubber wheel slipped, the shuffling machine did not create a perfectly random deck. It created a repeating mathematical sequence. It grouped certain suits together. It pushed the high Spade cards to a very specific spot in the deck. Evan had spent the last three hours mapping that invisible wave in his head. He had watched the Dealer’s white-gloved hands p
Chapter 409
The small, thick piece of white paper spun slowly through the air. It was just a playing card. It was made of paper and ink. It weighed almost nothing. But in that dark, underground VIP poker room, that single piece of paper carried the weight of the entire world. It carried billions of years of human life. It carried the fate of the poor people starving in the slums. It carried the lives of Evan Kennedy and his best friends. The tall Dealer in the black tuxedo had just slid the card off the top of the deck. His pure white silk gloves looked like ghosts moving in the dim, amber light of the crystal chandelier. He flipped the card into the air. For Evan Kennedy, time stopped. He did not use his magical Chronos Perception. The heavy, invisible static from the Quantum Scramblers in the ceiling still blocked his powers. If he used his magic, his brain would melt. He was completely cut off from the digital code of the universe. But Evan did not need magic anymore. He had his human mind
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