Chapter 247: Time Is Merciless

Another busy day of work.

The restrained smile on Bennett’s face vanished the moment he got into the car, replaced by deep exhaustion—both physical and mental.

His wife had called his office today, upset that he hadn’t visited her father recently. She felt neglected and mistreated.

Everyone knew who really held the power, but Bennett could only endure it silently.

They argued—mostly with his wife complaining and Bennett apologizing and bearing it.

Promotion within the bank was demanding; it wasn’t just about being competent or liked, especially in a critical role like the credit department.

In such positions, small flaws were tolerated, and one might lack outstanding ability, but two social rules—seen by some as trivial yet widely accepted—were mandatory.

First, caution.

Second, full social responsibility.

The first meant avoiding risky decisions—though the bank had risk assessment teams to handle the real evaluations.

The second was harder to grasp literally but meant having a complete family: one’s own, their parents’, and a full social network.

Sociologists and criminologists concluded that adults with stable family ties were much less likely to commit crimes than those lacking family, marriage, children, or social interaction.

Marriage and family represent social responsibility; having responsibility restrains a person.

In reality, it’s a societal shackle, an invisible web that traps individuals, making them part of the system.

Bennett didn’t intend to deepen conflicts with his wife anytime soon. Coming to Sabin City was a turning point. Once he replaced George, he would consider divorce.

He had little property; even if he gave it all to her, it didn’t matter. Then he could start anew.

Thinking this lifted his spirits slightly.

As the car left the underground garage, a few pigeons resting on garbage bins fluttered skyward.

Birds in the city were dwindling, struggling to find food without human help, suffering through the harsh winter.

The cold afflicted both people and animals.

Bennett’s car stopped in a lot across from the strip club. Wearing a stand-collar coat and wide-brimmed hat pulled low, he went unnoticed, especially entering a strip club.

Yesterday, he had a strange experience here. Reflecting afterward only brought sadness.

He realized he couldn’t recall his first girlfriend’s face. Time—the ruthless bastard—had worn it away, the face that once filled his dreams now faded and blurred.

That unforgettable, deeply etched face was so vague it pained him again.

He had truly believed that love would never fade, but clearly, he was wrong.

Until… that girl’s face gradually replaced the other’s. He didn’t know if it was memory or imagination.

Family conflicts and office politics meant he shouldn’t be here, but he instinctively wanted to see that girl.

Showing his VIP card, he ordered her again in the VIP area. Today, she wore a pink dress with small yellow flowers.

Seeing her, Bennett felt a fleeting daze, recalling a fragment from a spring day—a time chasing the wind, the wind chasing a girl, pure joy inside.

Happy moments never last. Satisfied, Bennett took out his wallet and counted thirty Sol in bills, placing it in her hand after a brief hesitation.

He could have given more, but deep down he knew this was a pleasure bought with money. Whether chasing a false illusion or not wanting her to become greedy out of pity, he restrained himself.

As he put the money in her hand, he froze. He noticed the bracelet on her wrist.

An old silver chain, blackened in places. Bennett immediately recognized it.

He grabbed her wrist, but she pulled away.

Her expression was colder than before. She shoved the money into her chest. “Sorry, sir, service is over.”

She changed instantly—like cold water poured over him.

Yes, she was done and could leave.

But Bennett grew anxious. That bracelet matched one from his memories—the first thing he ever bought for a girl with his spare change. It held his purest feelings.

He still remembered the second four-leaf clover on it, engraved with two initials—his and his first love’s.

“Sorry if I scared you,” Bennett said, eyes fixed on the bracelet. “Where did you get your bracelet?”

She shook her head. “It’s none of your business, sir.”

She started tidying up—though there wasn’t much to pack. As she prepared to leave, Bennett pulled out several twenty-Sol bills. “One more round.”

She glanced at him, snatched the money, and said, “If you can’t perform, I won’t refund you.”

Bennett sat back, nodded. She wouldn’t leave immediately, so he calmed down. “No problem, but you have to answer my question. Because I’m your…”

Rolling her eyes, she resumed working. Soon, Bennett learned the bracelet’s origin—it was a gift from her mother. He also saw the initials.

His heart stirred again. Despite family conflicts, he longed for the pure love he once had. It had become a sacred ideal.

But the girl told him a truth he wished he never knew.

“You know my mother?” After finishing her second service, she lit a cigarette.

Bennett awkwardly nodded. “She was a good friend of mine.”

The girl smiled with no warmth, a look that annoyed Bennett. “I’m not joking. I really know your mother.”

She raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Yes, among ten men near my home, at least half would say the same… And they probably know my mother better than you do.”

Silence stretched. Bennett suddenly said something he shouldn’t have: “You shouldn’t be doing this!”

“You look down on me…” The girl flicked her almost finished cigarette to the ground and started packing. “I know. Look at your coat. How much did it cost? Three hundred, five hundred? A thousand?”

“Eight hundred eighty,” Bennett answered softly.

Her face twisted with scorn and mockery. “Eight hundred eighty, sir. Do you know what I have to do to earn that?” She spat and her face grew hateful. Her anger showed in the way she stuffed her things into her bag.

“I bet that coat is just one of many in your closet. Why do you think you can demand anything from me with it?”

She looked up at him. “You think I like you…?” She raised her middle finger, cursed, and slammed the door behind her.

Before Bennett realized his words were worse than some of his actions, a burly man entered. He looked at Bennett on the sofa with an unsettling smile.

“Sir, respect everyone. I don’t want trouble. I’m sure you don’t want to get hurt. And we won’t meet again, right?”

That night, Bennett couldn’t sleep. He fell asleep very late, haunted by a strange dream where blurred memories overlapped. He felt exhausted.

At dawn, when he opened his eyes, he made a decision: he would change that girl.