Chapter 1: The Deal Begins

[📢 Author's Note:

Hey everyone! I've made some updates to the chapters to improve the flow and kick things off with a bang. The prologue is now merged with Chapter 1 (now called "The Deal Begins"), and Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 have been combined into a single chapter titled "Shadows of Time." These changes tighten the pacing and set the stage for the wild ride ahead, so if the structure feels a little different, that's why!

Thanks for joining me on this adventure—I can't wait to see what you think once you're hooked! 🚀]

"Come on, just one minute—it's not like you'll miss it," the guy said, leaning against the alley wall, his grin sharp enough to cut glass.

I stood there, rain dripping off my hood, watching him twirl that little brass relic between his fingers. It ticked faintly, like a pocket watch with a grudge. The streetlamp flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows across the puddles at our feet. Around us, the city hummed—distant horns, the clatter of boots on cobblestones—but here in this grimy corner, it was just me, him, and the deal.

He called himself Jaks, a Time Gambler with a patched coat and eyes that didn't blink enough. I'd seen his kind before, lurking in the slums, promising quick fixes for us Fades—people too poor to keep our years. "One minute," he repeated, holding up the relic. "Trade it to me, and I'll give you a week's worth of bread. Easy."

I clenched my fists, feeling the damp chill seep through my gloves. A minute didn't sound like much. Sixty seconds for seven days of food? I'd been scraping by on scraps for weeks, ever since the Syndicate took my sister. She'd faded out—aged to dust right in front of me because we couldn't pay her debt. I was sixteen then, too young to stop it, but old enough to swear I'd never let it happen to me. Now, at twenty-two, I was still running from that promise.

"Okay," I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. "One minute."

Jaks smirked, stepping closer. "Hold out your hand." I did, and he pressed the relic against my palm. It was cold, heavier than it looked, and the ticking sped up, buzzing under my skin. "Say it—'I trade one minute.'"

"I trade one minute," I muttered, barely believing I was doing this.

The air shifted, like someone sucked the sound out of the world. My chest tightened, and then it hit—a jolt, sharp and quick, like a needle through my ribs. I gasped, stumbling back, but Jaks just watched, his grin widening. The relic glowed faintly, then dimmed. "Done," he said, tucking it into his coat. He tossed me a sack—stale bread, sure enough—and turned to leave.

But something was wrong. My knees shook, and my vision blurred. "Wait," I croaked, reaching for him. "What's—"

He froze mid-step, then spun around, eyes wide. "No, no, no—you didn't—" He grabbed my arm, yanking me closer, but before he could finish, his face changed. His skin wrinkled, sagging like melted wax. His hair grayed, then fell out in clumps. "You stole it!" he screamed, voice cracking as his teeth yellowed. In seconds, he aged—decades, centuries—until his bones creaked and his legs gave out. He hit the ground, a husk, whispering, "There's no more time left…"

I stumbled back, heart pounding, staring at the pile of dust where Jaks had been. The sack of bread lay abandoned in a puddle. The relic was gone—disintegrated with him, maybe—but I felt it still, that tick-tick-tick echoing in my skull. What had I done?

Across the city, in a cramped tenement, Kai Voss was haggling with a broker over a debt he didn't owe. Me. I didn't know it then, but that night in the alley wasn't some random fluke. It was the first thread pulling me into a web I couldn't escape—a world where time wasn't just currency, it was breaking.

"Pay up, Voss, or you're out on the street by morning," the landlord growled, pounding on my door like he owned my soul, not just the room.

I stood there, hands shoved in my pockets, staring at the chipped paint peeling off the walls. The tenement smelled of rust and regret, same as every other Fade slum in this city. Outside, the towers of the Eternals glittered—bastards who traded our years to stay young forever. Me? I was twenty-two, already feeling the weight of a debt I couldn't explain, and the clock was ticking louder every day.

"I'll get it," I said, voice steady despite the knot in my gut. "Just give me till tomorrow."

He snorted, a big guy with a face like a bulldog's chew toy. "Tomorrow's too late. Syndicate's already sniffing around. You're done, kid." He slammed the door on his way out, leaving me with the echo and a half-empty bottle of cheap liquor on the table.

I slumped onto the cot, running a hand through my hair. The debt wasn't even mine—not really. It started with my sister, Mara. Five years ago, she traded too much time to keep us fed, and I watched her age from twenty to eighty in a heartbeat. The Syndicate took her anyway when we couldn't pay the rest. Now they claimed I owed her balance, plus interest. I kept thinking if I'd been faster, smarter, I could've saved her. Instead, I was drowning.

That's when I heard it—a whisper from the street below. "Need a way out, Fade?" I leaned out the window, squinting into the shadows. A woman stood there, hood up, holding something that glinted under the streetlamp. "Come down," she said. "Got a deal for you."

I should've ignored her. Should've known better. But desperation's a hell of a motivator, so I grabbed my jacket and headed out. The air was cold, biting at my ears as I met her in the alley. She was lean, with sharp eyes and a scar across her cheek. "Name's Lena," she said, tossing me a smirk. "Heard you're in deep."

"Yeah," I admitted, eyeing the brass relic in her hand. It looked like the one from that night—the one I saw turn a guy to dust. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she said, stepping closer. "You trade some time, I get you enough to pay off that landlord. Maybe more." She held out the relic. "Ever done it before?"

I hesitated. "Once," I said, thinking of Jaks. "Didn't end well."

Her laugh was dry. "First trades never do. This one's clean—five years for a month's worth of coin. Syndicate won't even blink." She pressed the relic into my palm. "Say it: 'I trade five years of my past.'"

Five years of memories for a month of breathing room. I didn't have much worth remembering anyway—just Mara fading, and me failing. "I trade five years of my past," I said, bracing myself.

The jolt hit harder this time, like a fist to my spine. I dropped to one knee, gasping as the world spun. My head buzzed, and then—nothing. No Mara. No tenement. No childhood. Just a blank slate where my life used to be. I looked up at Lena, her smirk gone. "You okay?" she asked, voice softer now.

"I don't… know who I am," I muttered, clutching my skull. The ticking was back, louder, like it was counting down.

She cursed under her breath. "Shouldn't have hit you that hard. Come on, we need to move." She grabbed my arm, pulling me down the alley just as a shadow loomed at the other end—a figure in a cloak, its edges shimmering like liquid. A Time Reaper.

"Illegal trade detected," it rasped, voice echoing like a broken clock. "Surrender the relic, or be erased."

Lena yanked me behind a dumpster. "Run when I say," she whispered, pulling a dagger from her belt. I didn't know her, didn't know anything, but I nodded. The Reaper advanced, and I realized trading my past might've just cost me my future.

📢 Author's Note:

Hey everyone! This is my first novel, and I'm incredibly excited to share this journey with you. "The Man Who Sold His Future" is a story filled with mystery, danger, and high-stakes time trading, and I promise—it only gets better with each chapter!

If you've made it this far, I have one request: Please read at least 10 chapters before leaving a review. A story takes time to build, and I want you to experience the world fully before judging it.

🚀

Thank you, and see you in the next chapter!

— [Kirito_Kazuha]