Pampering Discarded Heroines Triggers My 10,000x Rebate System

Down in the public plaza behind Apex Tower, the afternoon sun cast a warm golden glow across the manicured tree-lined paths.

Evren pushed Amber’s wheelchair at a leisurely pace, enjoying the autumn breeze.

For the first time in three exhausting years, he wasn’t racing against a food delivery countdown timer or rushing up apartment stairwells with heavy takeout bags.

And after almost a week of fighting monster beasts, negotiating multi-million-dollar deals, and outsmarting arrogant guild executives, this simple, quiet peace felt almost surreal.

They stopped at a quaint, Parisian-style street cart near the central fountain.

Using Amber’s fifty-dollar bill, Evren bought two warm strawberry-nutella crepes and two cups of iced peach tea, receiving $12.00 in change.

They sat together on a shaded wooden bench beside the sparkling fountain water.

Amber took a bite of her warm crepe, her eyes curving into happy crescents. ”Mmm! This is amazing.”

”Better than five-star room service?” Evren teased, taking a sip of his tea.

”A hundred times better,” Amber replied earnestly. She turned her wheelchair slightly toward him. ”Because this is real.”

A tiny smudge of chocolate was left on the corner of Evren’s mouth.

Amber noticed it. Without thinking, she reached her slender hand up and gently brushed her thumb against his cheek to wipe it away.

Her touch was soft and warm.

When Amber realized what she had just done, her eyes widened slightly, and a bright blush rushed across her pale cheeks. She quickly pulled her hand back, looking down at her lap with shy embarrassment.

Evren looked at her flustered expression, a gentle smile touching his eyes.

He didn’t say a word, simply letting the quiet, comfortable warmth linger between them in the afternoon sun.

—

Meanwhile, across town in Sector 2.

CRASH!

A crystal decanter shattered against the wall of the Prescott Guild Executive Suite.

”What do you mean the Guild Bureau froze our raid license?!” Prescott roared, kicking his mahogany desk across the marble floor.

On the giant wall monitor, a live news broadcast played the humiliating footage from earlier that morning: Chief Inspector Flores holding up the dimensional logs, officially declaring Prescott Guild guilty of fraud and slapping them with a massive $15,000,000.00 penalty.

Giselle sat on the leather sofa, looking as pale as a ghost while clutching her designer handbag in panic.

”Prescott, the bank just called!” Giselle shrieked, tears ruining her mascara. ”They saw the news! They’re recalling our three-million-dollar commercial loan by five PM! If we don’t pay, they’re seizing our luxury apartments and my sports car! You promised me we were going to be the top power couple in the city!”

”Shut the hell up, you useless leech!” Prescott screamed, his bloodshot eyes bulging with manic rage. ”I built this guild! A fifteen-million-dollar fine won’t destroy me!”

Prescott paced across the shattered glass, his mind racing desperately.

’My official accounts are under audit, but they don’t know about my private slush fund,’ Prescott thought with a subtle grin. ’And even though I lost my field supply pouch on Glacial Peak when I escaped the Wyvern, but nobody could ever break my S-Rank blood seal.’

He stopped pacing for a minute.

’And even if they did, nobody in this city knows about my master vault in Sector One! Ten million dollars in cold gold and bearer bonds hidden in the Shadow-Bazaar! With that cash, I can pay off the bank, bribe the inspectors, and hire an underground hit squad to tear Evren to pieces!’

Without wasting a single second, Prescott threw on a dark trench coat and slipped out the rear exit.

By 4:00 PM, Prescott arrived at the underground Shadow-Bazaar in Sector 1.

Having lost his physical key on the mountain, he marched straight to the bulletproof glass of the Umbra Vault Sector, slamming his palm against the counter.

”I need emergency access to Vault seventy-seven,” Prescott demanded through gritted teeth. ”I lost my physical key on a raid, but my biometric registration is on file. Scan my iris!”

The goblin clerk peered through his magnifying lens, scanning Prescott’s eye with the biometric sensor.

BEEP.

The clerk glanced at the glowing terminal screen, then looked back up at Prescott with a flat, confused expression.

”Guildmaster Prescott? What are you talking about?” the clerk asked, scratching his pointed ear. ”Your vault was already completely cleared out at two AM this morning.”

Prescott froze, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.

”What did you just say?!” Prescott roared, grabbing the metal grate. ”That’s impossible! I was asleep in Sector Two! Nobody has access to that vault! You thieving bastards are trying to rob me! Open the vault right now!”

Two hulking B-Rank enforcers stepped forward, resting their heavy axes on the floor.

”Calm down, Guildmaster,” the clerk said coldly, sliding a keycard into the security console. ”See for yourself.”

The mechanical doors of Vault #77 groaned open with a hiss of pressurized air.

Prescott sprinted into the private chamber like a madman, lunging toward the reinforced titanium chest in the center of the room.

CLICK.

The chest wasn’t locked.

Prescott threw the heavy lid open.

His breath caught in his throat.

The chest was completely empty... not a single gold bar.... not a single bearer bond... not a single diamond.

Every single penny of his ten-million-dollar fortune had vanished into thin air.

”Where is it?!” Prescott shrieked, clawing frantically at the empty velvet lining. ”Where is my money?! WHERE IS MY GOLD?!”

”At two-fifteen AM, an Awakener presented the authentic physical Key seventy-seven,” the goblin clerk stated calmly from the doorway, reading from the digital ledger. ”The key was unlocked, so there was no suspicion of any foul play. He paid the withdrawal fee, and carried out every asset. Our syndicate only recognizes the key, Prescott.”

Prescott collapsed onto his knees on the cold stone floor, trembling violently.

’Key seventy-seven... with the blood seal shattered...’

Then Prescott’s fingers brushed the bottom corner of the chest. He felt a faint, lingering wisp of frost-mana against his skin.

Prescott froze.

The scent of Glacial Peak. The unmistakable frost-essence of the S-Rank Ice Wyvern.

The realization struck Prescott’s brain like a bolt of lightning: on the frozen summit, when he panicked and crushed his escape crystal, his spatial supply pouch had ripped from his belt and fallen into the snow.

The pouch that held his emergency bonds, his diamonds... and the black titanium key to Vault #77.

And the only living person left on that mountain was Evren.

”It was him,” Prescott whispered in a cracking voice. His face twisted with rage. ”Evren didn’t just survive; he broke my seal... he took my key... HE STOLE MY VAULT!”

Prescott slumped over the empty chest, clutching his hair and screaming into the dark.

”EVREN!!!”