Human beings mint life span into currency.
At the moment of birth, the countdown on everyone's wrist begins to beat - 100 years, no more, no less.
After the 18-year-old coming-of-age ceremony, you can deposit your life in the bank or exchange it for money:
1 minute = 1 credit point, 1 hour = 1 gene potion, 1 year = a set of inner-city household registration.
But for every transfer, the system will eat up 15% of the "loss", like the invisible god of death taxing you.
Here,
The neon lights in the wealthy areas are always on, and their countdown stops at ∞;
The streets of the slums are paved with corpses, and the countdown reaches zero, not even the "time passing" alarm has time to sound.
There is a saying circulating on the black market:
"Those who steal time will be killed by time."
But they still kept going—
Because I can't live and I can't afford to die.
Welcome to the 22nd century where time is money,
May you live long enough,
Long enough to see with my own eyes how I will die.
