Pampering Discarded Heroines Triggers My 10,000x Rebate System

The treadmill hummed quietly in the training gym on Floor 75.

Calista jogged at a steady eight kilometers per hour, her eyes fixed on the city through the glass wall. Below her, the early morning sun reflected off the metal rooftops and commuter lines of District One.

Beside the console, Dr. Elena monitored the biometric readouts on her digital tablet.

”Heart rate is sitting at one hundred and eighteen,” Dr. Elena said, tapping the screen. ”Your spinal alignment is level, and the nerve signals through your lower back are completely normal.”

Calista nodded, tapping the console to increase the speed setting to ten.

For two long years, she had been trapped in deep-iron shackles beneath the city, unable to move or feel her legs. Even after Evren pulled her out of that dark cellar, she had spent weeks bound to a wheelchair while he slowly healed her.

Now, each step felt natural. Mana circulated smoothly through her calves and feet without any resistance or pain.

Amber stepped onto the treadmill to her right, setting her speed to twelve with an easy grin.

”Not bad for an alchemist,” Amber teased, falling into stride beside her. ”Let’s see how long you can keep that up.”

Zephyra stepped onto the machine on Calista’s left. Her running shoes made almost no sound against the moving rubber belt.

”Her form is cleaner than yours, Amber,” Zephyra said quietly. ”Her mana cushions every step she takes.”

Evren took the fourth machine at the end of the row, matching their pace with an easy jog.

The quiet hum of the four treadmills filled the gym as they ran together in the morning light. Nobody was in a rush, but the steady movement set a clear rhythm for the day ahead.

After ten continuous minutes, Dr. Elena tapped the stop switch, bringing all four belts to a smooth halt.

”That is all the data I need,” Dr. Elena said, looking up from her tablet with a satisfied nod. ”There is no swelling, no nerve drag, and your muscle balance is completely symmetrical.”

Calista stepped down onto the rubber gym floor and took a towel to wipe her face.

”So am I clear?” Calista asked, taking a deep, steady breath.

”You are officially discharged from physical therapy, Miss Vesper,” Dr. Elena answered, filing the medical chart. ”Your recovery is complete. You can handle normal work, travel, and long hours on your feet without restrictions.”

Amber handed Calista a cold bottle of water and opened one for herself.

”You earned it, Calista,” Amber said. ”Now you can outrun Crowe’s inspectors on foot if they try to corner you again.”

Evren dried his face with a towel and walked over to the bench. ”Did anyone respond to our hiring notice overnight?”

Calista picked up her tablet from the glass table and unlocked the screen. Her eyes widened slightly as she scrolled through the recruitment dashboard.

”Actually... a lot of people did,” Calista said with awe, turning the screen so Evren and Amber could see. ”We have one hundred and forty-two completed applications.”

Amber leaned over the table, whistling softly. ”In less than twenty-four hours?”

”Word spread fast through the Imperial Academy alumni network,” Calista explained. ”Over sixty of these applicants are certified cleanroom technicians with five to ten years of factory experience.”

She tapped on a highlighted application with a silver guild seal.

”Look at this one,” Calista said, scrolling through the applicant profile. ”Raymond Wells was the chief formulation supervisor at the Imperial Research Institute for nine years.”

”Why did he leave?” Evren asked.

”He attached a written disclosure letter,” Calista answered, reading down the screen. ”He said the pharmaceutical cartel ordered him to dilute standard healing salves with industrial alcohol and cheap acid to cut costs. When he refused to sign off on dangerous medicine, Crowe’s office revoked his supervisory license the next morning.”

”Where has he been working since then?” Evren asked.

”He listed five years managing inventory at a grain warehouse in District Six,” Calista answered. ”The Regulation Board put an official black mark on his license, so no commercial lab would touch him.”

Amber pointed to another resume on the list.

”Here is a young woman who graduated top of her class in alchemical engineering,” Amber noted. ”Her file says she specialized in high-pressure steam manifolds, but could not get an operator license without paying a noble sponsorship fee.”

”They have been stuck doing basic manual labor for scraps,” Evren said, scanning the list. ”A sovereign defense facility offering double wages and legal immunity is the exact break they have been waiting for.”

”And because we operate under Imperial Readiness Decree 12, Crowe cannot touch their licenses,” Calista said firmly. ”I want to bring forty technicians, ten quality inspectors, and twenty line operators in for interviews this afternoon.”

She paused, setting the tablet down as her expression turned practical.

”The staff is ready, but we still have one legal hurdle before commercial distribution,” Calista said. ”We need human clinical trial data.”

Evren leaned back against the bench, listening carefully. ”What does imperial law require?”

”Chapter Four of the Imperial Pharmacopeia governs all Grade-Five regenerative formulas,” Calista explained. ”The optical spectrometer proved our pilot batch has zero toxicity, but the law still requires documented results on active human injuries before military procurement can sign off.”

”What specific results do we have to show?” Evren asked.

”Three main things,” Calista said. ”First, we have to measure how fast the salve dissolves dead and necrotic tissue. Second, we must log how quickly healthy skin and muscle fibers regrow under mana stimulation.”

She tapped her tablet, bringing up a standard regulatory chart.

”And third, we need proof that damaged or scarred meridians can conduct mana again without clotting,” Calista finished. ”Without those three data points, the military supply board cannot issue purchase orders.”

Amber crossed her arms and shook her head.

”We cannot use civilians for this,” Amber said. ”Even if the salve is completely safe, regular people panic over slight tingling, and the Regulation Board would claim we are running unsafe experiments on the public.”

She looked at Evren with a serious expression.

”Military medics usually cut away deep acid burns with knives because commercial salves cannot penetrate hardened scar tissue,” Amber added. ”We need real combat injuries to show what this medicine can actually do.”

”We do not need civilians,” Evren said, pulling his phone from his pocket. ”The military already has hundreds of wounded soldiers who need this right now.”

He dialed the direct line for Grand Arbiter Raymond Kincaid at the Imperial Defense Command.

Kincaid answered on the second ring. ”Chairman Evren. What is your update on the District Two facility?”

”Our pilot batch cleared synthesis yesterday with ninety-nine point eight percent Grade-Five purity and zero toxicity,” Evren stated calmly. ”To finalize our military supply authorization under Decree 12, we need about ten wounded volunteers for a Phase-One clinical trial.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Kincaid spoke.

”What kind of injuries do you require?” Kincaid asked.

”Severe combat trauma,” Evren replied. ”Deep caustic acid burns or scarred nerve channels that standard hospital potions cannot heal.”

”The Imperial Sanatorium in District One has thirty frontline soldiers currently dealing with those exact wounds from recent rift battles,” Kincaid said. ”Most of them are facing medical discharge because standard Grade-Three treatments cannot restore their tissue.”

”Can you authorize them for our trial today?” Evren asked.

”I will authorize all under direct military medical supervision,” Kincaid confirmed. ”I will assign Chief Medical Officer Major Bradley to accompany them in an armored transport. Bradley has been furious with the commercial cartels for years over their diluted medical supplies, so he will be glad to see real medicine.”

”When can they arrive?” Evren asked.

”The transport will reach your District Two facility by eleven o’clock,” Kincaid replied. ”Captain Keller’s Provost unit will secure the intake bay and document the testing on military video logs.”

”Thank you, Grand Arbiter,” Evren said. ”We will have their treatment data logged and verified by this evening.”

”Get it done, Chairman,” Kincaid said, ending the call.

Evren put his phone back into his jacket pocket and looked at Calista.

”The transport arrives at eleven,” Evren told her. ”You will have around thirty wounded soldiers and a military doctor waiting in the observation bay.”

Calista took a deep breath. ”I’ll go get my journal and gadgets.”

”I will stay here at the tower to oversee security rotations,” Amber said, walking over to the rack to grab her gear. ”Master Tridon messaged me this morning that the furnace finished the carbon infusion on my blades. They will be ready for pickup tomorrow evening.”

”That is great news,” Evren replied with a nod.

He turned toward Calista, gesturing toward the elevator bank. ”Let’s get dressed and head to District Two.”