Stopping Time to Farm Clocks (1)
Today was one of those days with unexpectedly good vibes, straight out of Kim Cheomji's Lucky Day we read in school. I'd bought some hearty seolleongtang, but I couldn't even touch it! Not that it mattered to anyone else. So what the hell was I on about?
"Hey, it's been a while. Mom called."
"Uh, why?"
A curt response from her ever-blunt son.
Truth was, I wasn't exactly the warm and fuzzy type with anyone. Only around friends did I loosen up a bit—friends were different, you know? We'd go crazy together, play hard and bright... but aside from those times, everything felt kinda dark.
I was the type who holed up at home, binged porn, collected wild ambitions as a hobby. A guy like that lighting up? Fat chance.
"Hey, son. You going to school okay?"
"Yeah, doing fine."
A twinge of conscience hit me. I'd been skipping classes like they were meals lately.
"Made any friends? Got a girlfriend?"
"Ah, come on. What am I, a kid? Why'd you call anyway?"
I figured it was just the usual check-in, but boy, was I wrong.
"Things are tight on money at home these days. Quit skipping classes and get a part-time job."
"Huh?"
"Your dad's salary barely covers living expenses. You're an adult now—earn your own keep."
"What? Things that rough lately? Should I pitch in, get a job?"
Even when I first moved out at twenty for solo living, Mom had never laid it on this thick. Maybe she thought army service was around the corner? Either way, hearing this daily meant something was up at home. Made me worry if some real shit had hit the fan.
"Just cut your living expenses, and we'll scrape by. Not sure if that's the full story."
We didn't live together anymore, and if she was hiding stuff, no way for me to know.
"Got it. Don't worry about me. I'll let you know if it's bad."
I cared, sure, but pushing wouldn't get answers. Better to wrap it up.
"Eat properly. Call if anything comes up."
"I said I got it, Mom. Hanging up."
I ended the call and flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Our family wasn't dirt poor—uh, well, not rich either. We got by, scraping just enough to eat. But with college tuition and my deposit for this place, no wonder things were pinching.
"Ah, fuck. Guess I gotta pick up a part-time gig again? Hate that shit."
I wasn't swamped with studies or anything noble like that. Just plain didn't wanna.
"Last year's job was hell—suffered through the whole damn year without a break."
The bad memories were stuck like glue; couldn't even picture jumping back in.
"But can't just bum around forever. Rent's due next month, no more handouts."
Mom had wired this month's living cash, but no job meant sucking my thumb come next month.
"Gotta be some better way..."
Here I was, Chronos's heir with time powers at my fingertips, and part-time work? What a joke!
"Man, if only I could rewind time, snag some lotto numbers."
I had time-stop, sure, but someday I might unlock past-jumping too. Past, future—they're all time, right?
Whatever, couldn't do it yet anyway.
"Hmm, maybe hit up Albamon for gigs first..."
I pulled out my phone, fiddling with the app, when a familiar racket echoed from the alley.
"Hey, you fucking punk. Think my words are a joke? Got the 100k ready? Bring it today."
"I-I don't have any m-money... Th-this is all I could scrape..."
Time Manipulation has been activated.
Thwack!Crash! The sounds of someone getting beat and tumbling across the ground.
Lowlife thugs like these popped up everywhere, no matter where you went.
They didn't look like high schoolers anymore—grown-ass punks pulling the same crap.
"Hey, old man. You sightseeing or what? Scram before you regret it."
A guy ahead in the alley, chain-smoking, legs crossed like a boss, glared and shooed me off.
"Ah, now that's an idea."
It hit me like a brick. Didn't wanna earn money? Just take it from assholes like these.
I knew extortion was wrong, deep down.
"Time Manipulation."
But dipping into thugs' pockets? That barely registered as bad.
"Let's see how much these fuckers are carrying."
Twenty-five minutes was plenty to clean 'em out and bail. Assuming they carried cash, of course...
"Gotta check first. Start with the lookout punk who called me 'old man' like I'm trash."
"Oho, guy's packing more cash than I thought?"
Over 200k stuffed in his wallet. Jackpot city. No clue if it was extortion loot or what, but who cared?