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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Sci-fi · #1920721
The Giver of Illusions This is the second chapter of the Broken Clock Project.
00 Hours, 00 Minutes, 05 Seconds

The room was filled with the smell of sweat and the gasping breath of his client. His life was one where he gave woman, and occasionally men, a sweet illusion. However being the giver of illusions he could no longer fall into the illusions himself. He existed to please his customers, whatever they wanted he would provide for them. The woman beneath him shuddered and she wrapped her legs tightly around him, pulling him deeper into her.

He felt nothing from the act. He felt no pleasure. All he did was put on a mask and give the client what they want. That was his life. That was his all. After she recuperated and cleaned herself up the woman left and he waited for his next client. When she walked in, he went through the act again. Making her feel loved and giving her a sweet illusion.



I left the Lion’s Den, one of my three workplaces. There I worked as a prostitute giving women and sometimes men pleasure. Tonight after a short break I would be going to Ladies Paradise where I would work as a host and tomorrow morning I would go to Oasis Palm and work as a masseuse. After that I would be free to do what I liked until the night when I would return to the Lion’s Den.

I walked through the streets of London, the eyes of the woman I passed following me. While I was undeniably handsome and elegant, this amount of attention would seem abnormal to people who don’t know my mutation. Though I was born after the world broke, I had been affected by one of the periodic Oscillations and had become the Flower of London.

It always annoyed me I was known as a Flower despite being male. As I told my clients often:

‘I would rather be called a gardener, because I make you beautiful flowers bloom.’

It was a rather cheesy line but when it comes from someone like me they eat it up.

‘Watcha, Cherry!’

Someone shouldered me in the back and I staggered forward. Cherry was my ‘stage’ name, however somewhere down the line it became more like my real name then the name I was born with. But going back to the person who hit me from behind…

‘You are lively today as usual, Sari.’

Sari, she was smaller than me, and looked a few years younger despite being older. A few years ago she had found a way to stop her time, however it had caused her to undergo an extremely painful Oscillation. Now she was a cat, or at least half a cat. Apparently some other stuff happened as well but she hadn’t told me about it.

Sari grinned, sticking out her tongue.

‘I just finished a job, so how about a bite to eat and a drink.’

I sighed theatrically.

‘Sari, I am a working man who is about to go to his job. My job there is to sit there and eat and drink while listening to woman whine about their lives. Pray tell, why, I would wish to do it in my spare time as well?’

Sari considered it, a fur covered finger tapping at her chin.

‘Because I’m paying?’

‘You have clearly never been to a host club before.’

I turned to leave but she pulled me down into a headlock and whispered in my ear:

‘What if I said I have a well paying job for you?’

Money. That was what I needed to continue my life. Many people may think I enjoy my career but I don’t. It is a bore. However the pay was lucrative; my yearly wage had six zeros.

‘Shall we go and get a drink?’



The Wash Bucket was a cheap little tavern that was conveniently situated between all three of my jobs. For many years I had used it as a place to get a bite to eat between shifts. Sari was happily stripping the meat off a fish while drinking an actual flagon of ale. I was eating a salad and drinking coffee.

I wanted to ask Sari what the job was and leave, however I had learned better than to interrupt her while she eats. Despite appearances, I was fond of Sari, not in a romantic way though. I considered her to be a good friend because she was one of the few females I had met who could endure my ability.

When I Oscillated I was given the ability to emit pheromones. Any female (and some males) who smelled them would fall under my spell. I tried to contain it when I wasn’t working, however it still leaked out and drew attention. Not only that, I could smell other people acutely. Everyone had a distinctive smell, and it was easy to determine things such as their sexual preferences and their moods from it.

Only people who had already been captured by someone else’s pheromones were immune. I was too polite to enquire as to who Sari had fallen for, however I must admit I was interested to know the identity of the person who could turn her head.

Sari dropped a pile of bones on her plate, took one last swig and then got down to business.

‘I need your help locating someone.’

Sari was an assassin by trade. Her cat-like qualities made her perfect for it. However she was less skilled at gathering information.

‘The client?’

I didn’t want to work for someone despicable like Yvn or San Travor.

‘Me.’

‘So this is a personal request?’

I was surprised. However this could work out well for me.

‘Since it’s a personal request I will be charging extra you know?’

‘How much?’

‘An extra thousand.’

She didn’t even blink and nodded immediately. Who is it she was trying to find? He must have quite a bounty on his head if she could pay that much without even needing to think first. Perhaps I should have squeezed extra out of her…

I shook my head. I needed money desperately; however I had to be careful not to fall into the pitfall of greed.

‘I don’t know if he’s in London, but I heard he attacked and nearly killed Yvn the other day.’

Yvn was a little shit, but he was worth a lot to some people. I could probably request another zero on my payment easily.

‘Anyway, I need to find him. He’s called Doctor Echo, but I hear he sometimes goes by just the Doctor.’

Doctor Echo? I remembered the name vaguely. There had been some kind of trouble about a decade ago centred on someone called Echo.

‘So when I find this Echo… then what?’

Come on… Give me some names so I can know just how much to increase my fee. Just let something slip.

‘I’m going to talk to him.’

……………………………

‘Sorry?’

Did I hear wrong? It sounded like she had just said she was going to talk to him. Just talk to him? Is that maybe a euphemism for something?

‘I am going to use my mouth hole to convey words to him. Then he will do the same in kind.’

Sari told me.

My dreams plummeted. So long money. One day I will see you again, but not for a while it seems.

‘Are you okay! You look sick…’

‘Heh…… Heh, heh…’

I put my head on the table.

‘This is about money again isn’t it?’

I nodded my head and whimpered pathetically.

‘Alright, do this for me and along with the pay we agreed on, I’ll put you in touch with a real rich sucker.’

I sat up again. Apart from my, admittedly rather obscene but still perfectly legal jobs, I also did some work as a con-artist. Milking money off the rich and giving to poor, namely myself.

‘You can count on me.’

I said confidently. Indeed, when it came to gathering information I was probably unparalleled. A little bit of service and most women would tell me their pin number.



He stopped home for a little while he owned a small one room apartment above one of the opium dens infesting London. He nodded briefly to the new tenant, an odd man who muttered to himself and was always drinking tea with someone else who wasn’t there. Opening the door he stepped inside and looked sadly at the only other occupant in the room.

The boy was diseased, just like his brother he had golden blonde hair and calming green eyes, however unlike his brother, the boy was being taken over by an illness. His organs were shutting down one by one, the only thing keeping him alive were the numerous electronic devices plugged into him. However even those weren’t enough. He needed more of those machines as well as a good doctor.

‘Just a bit more an I’ll be able to afford it,’ Cherry said patting his younger brother on the head. ‘Hang in there, Chase.’

Chase’s eyelids fluttered in response.

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