Rebate King: Every Beauty I Spoil Makes Me a Billionaire

[Recommended purchase: Advanced Pilot Mastery.]

[Cost: 10 System Points.]

Stan blinked. Then he laughed. It was a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

Apparently, the system didn’t just respond to his actions, it anticipated his practical problems and expanded its capabilities to solve them. He’d wondered, for all of three seconds, how he was supposed to fly himself to Antarctica.

The system had calmly added pilot training to the shop.

He opened the newly unlocked category.

[SKILL & PROFESSION MASTERY]

The list was enormous. Profession-grade knowledge packages ranged from three to fifteen System Points, neatly organized into broad disciplines.

Combat. Vehicle Operation. Craftsmanship. Medicine. Engineering. Analytical Sciences. Languages & Culture... And many more.

Each category expanded into dozens of specialized disciplines.

Stan scrolled through them with growing fascination.

The realization slowly settled over him. The system wasn’t merely selling information. It was selling experience.

Years. Decades. Entire careers, distilled into purchasable knowledge that could be integrated directly into his mind.

He converted another ten billion dollars into ten System Points without hesitation.

Then he purchased [Advanced Pilot Mastery.]

[Purchase confirmed.]

[Advanced Pilot Mastery successfully integrated.]

Knowledge poured into his mind, not as a chaotic torrent, but as an impossibly organized expansion of memory.

Aerodynamics. Aircraft systems. Meteorology. Air traffic communication. Instrument flight. Emergency procedures. Fuel planning. Long-range navigation. Polar operations. Cold-weather aviation.

He instinctively understood the cockpit layouts of commercial airliners, turboprops, helicopters, and long-range business jets. Checklists that had never existed in his memory suddenly felt as familiar as his own name. Complex procedures unfolded in his thoughts with effortless clarity, as though he had spent decades flying every major aircraft certification required for civilian aviation.

The integration ended as quietly as it had begun.

Stan let out a slow breath.

If someone handed him the keys to a private jet at this very moment, he could fly it. Confidently and safely.

His thoughts shifted. Antarctica wasn’t simply remote. It was dangerous.

Amelia’s intelligence report had all but confirmed that powerful organizations were already converging on the Spirit Pool. If the hidden families truly understood what it was, then there was every possibility he would encounter resistance.

His body was already extraordinary.

The Bone-Tempering Pill had transformed his physique beyond human limits.

But raw strength and genuine combat mastery were two very different things.

At present, his fighting ability amounted to little more than good instincts and the experience of surviving the streets.

Against trained opponents, that wouldn’t be enough.

He opened the Combat category. Several packages appeared.

Boxing Mastery. Grappling Mastery. Advanced Blade Mastery. Advanced Firearms Mastery.

His eyes stopped at the first listing. It cost more than any other skill in the category.

[Martial Arts Grand Mastery.]

[Comprehensive mastery of armed and unarmed combat across all major martial disciplines.]

[Cost: 15 System Points.]

He smiled. ”Seems worthwhile.”

Another fifteen billion dollars disappeared from his account. The purchase completed instantly.

[Purchase confirmed.]

[Martial Arts Grand Mastery successfully integrated.]

This time, the knowledge felt different. It didn’t simply add information. It rewrote instinct. Countless forms, techniques, and principles unfolded within his consciousness, layering themselves over the strength his transformed body already possessed.

Footwork. Balance. Timing. Distance. Momentum. Joint manipulation. Weapon transitions. Spatial awareness.

Every strike, throw, lock, feint, and counter became second nature.

His muscles seemed to remember movements they had never performed.

His posture shifted almost imperceptibly. His breathing settled.

Even sitting perfectly still, he carried the effortless composure of someone who had spent a lifetime refining violence into an art.

The integration faded. Stan remained seated for several long moments, silently absorbing the enormity of what had just happened.

Less than a minute earlier, he’d been an exceptionally strong man.

Now, he possessed the technical foundation of a grandmaster who had devoted multiple lifetimes to the study of combat.

Satisfied, he reached for his phone.

There was one more call he needed to make.

He dialed Grayson.

Grayson answered on the second ring. ”Stan.”

”Grayson, I need you to acquire a long-range private jet.”

A brief pause.

”What kind of jet?”

”Something capable of true intercontinental range. It needs to be able to operate on polar routes, including flights to Antarctica.”

Silence. Then—

”...I’m sorry, Stan. Could you repeat that?”

”I need a long-range business jet, fully fueled. I also want enough fuel reserves secured to support up to ten round trips between here and Antarctica.”

Grayson didn’t respond immediately.

”And before you ask,” Stan added, ”I won’t need a pilot.”

That earned him another, longer silence. When Grayson finally spoke, his voice remained calm, but there was unmistakable caution beneath the professionalism.

”Stan, if you don’t mind my asking...”

A slight pause.

”What exactly do you need this for?”

Stan considered giving a partial answer. Instead, he chose the truth.

”I need to go to Antarctica.”

The silence that followed stretched several seconds.

When Grayson spoke again, something in his tone had changed.

”...Is this about the discovery beneath the glacier?”

Stan straightened slightly. ”So you know about it.”

”I’ve been briefed.”

”By whom?”

”The families I maintain business relationships with.”

Another pause.

”They’ve been mobilizing for the past two days. Several have already dispatched representatives south.”

Stan’s eyes narrowed. ”So it’s true.”

Grayson gave a quiet, humorless chuckle. ”I suppose it is.”

He continued more carefully.

”If you’re asking me for an aircraft capable of reaching Antarctica, then you’re paying attention to the same signals they are.”

A beat.

”I’ll admit, I wouldn’t have expected that from you before today.”

”You’d be surprised.”

”I suspect I would.” Grayson shifted back into business. ”Yes, I can arrange the aircraft.”

Stan waited.

”There’s a Bombardier Global 8000 currently available through a broker I’ve worked with for years. It’s one of the few business jets with the range, performance, and operational flexibility suitable for what you’re describing.”

He paused briefly. ”It won’t be cheap.”

”I’m not concerned about the price.”

”The aircraft alone will cost several hundred million dollars.”

”I expected that.”

”Securing the fuel reserves you’ve requested, along with cold-weather support equipment and expedited delivery, will increase the total considerably.”

”That’s fine.”

Grayson was silent for a moment. ”...I know money isn’t your concern.”

Another pause.

”But even by your standards, this is going to be an expensive purchase.”

”I have the balance.”

”I don’t doubt it.”

Grayson hesitated before continuing. ”There is one complication.”

”What is it?”

”Access.”

Stan frowned, letting Grayson continue...

”Private aircraft can’t simply file a flight plan to Antarctica.”