Pampering Discarded Heroines Triggers My 10,000x Rebate System

The blood-red alert runes gradually dimmed behind Evren’s eyes, and the roaring sound of five hundred cheering guests rushed back into his ears.

Evren blinked as his vision cleared and his breath steadied.

Beside him, Amber was still holding his arm with genuine worry in her eyes as she looked up at his pale face.

"Evren?" Amber asked again softly. "What happened? Are you in pain?"

Evren looked into her anxious eyes and smiled gently, placing his warm hand over hers to reassure her.

"Just a brief surge of mana fatigue from the stage lights," Evren said in a calm, soothing tone. "I’m completely fine, Amber. Don’t worry."

Seeing his steady gaze, the tension in Amber’s shoulders eased. "If you feel tired, we can leave early."

"No need," Evren smiled, guiding her down the final steps toward Table Number One. "Tonight is our celebration."

A moment later, the melody of a live orchestra filled the grand ballroom as the formal celebration continued.

Under the bright chandeliers, many guests stepped onto the floor for the traditional gala waltz.

Evren turned to Amber, offering his hand with a gentle, inviting smile. "Are you up for a dance?"

Amber looked at his extended hand with a radiant smile blooming on her lips. She placed her soft fingers into his palm. "I’ve been waiting six months for a dance, Evren."

Evren led Amber onto the dance floor, moving smoothly across the marble as the music filled the hall.

After several minutes, the tempo shifted slightly, signaling the traditional partner rotation.

Gentlemen turned to receive their next partner. Evren turned with the rhythm, and found himself facing Giselle.

She had clearly timed her movements on the floor to enter his rotation on purpose. Giselle stepped in close, placing her hand into his palm with a forced smile as she looked up into his eyes.

Evren’s expression turned into a mask of cold indifference.

For a moment, they danced in silence to the rhythm of the waltz.

"Evren..." Giselle whispered. "You... you really became the Chairman of a conglomerate."

"Keep moving," Evren said calmly, not even looking directly at her. "It’s just a waltz."

Giselle bit her lower lip, leaning in slightly. "Is this all an act to make me jealous?" she asked with a desperate note in her voice. "Taking in Amber... buying out companies... was it all just to prove something to me?"

Evren let out a dry chuckle. "You think too highly of yourself, Giselle."

"I was the one who pushed you, Evren." she hissed softly, trying to sound confident. "If I hadn’t left you for Prescott, you’d still be delivering food in the rain for fifty dollars a day. In a way... I was the one who made you ambitious."

Evren’s grip loosened slightly as he looked down at her with pure disgust.

"You didn’t make me ambitious, Giselle," Evren said in a low, cutting voice. "You cheated on me in a hotel room for a fake luxury watch and an arrogant coward who just lost his number one ranking."

Giselle’s face flushed bright red. "Was it really love, then?" she countered bitterly. "If you could forget two years of our relationship and move on to Amber in just one week?"

"Amber stood beside me when she had nothing, and she never lied to me," Evren said calmly. "You threw me away the second you smelled money. That wasn’t love. That was a transaction."

The music reached the midpoint of the rotation.

Instead of completing the turn, Evren simply let go of Giselle’s hand mid-step.

Giselle stumbled awkwardly as Evren left her standing alone in the middle of the crowded dance floor. Several nearby guests turned their heads, murmuring and chuckling at her humiliation.

Without looking back, Evren walked calmly toward the private bar at the edge of the ballroom.

At the bar, Evren ordered sparkling water.

He pulled out his phone, opening his direct line with Mikay.

’Mikay. Run an immediate query on Sector Four. Find everything you can on an underground venue called Arena Number Nine, and an S-Rank fighter named Zephyra Nightshade. Have a complete report on my desk by morning.’

A reply came within ten seconds:

’Understood, Chairman. On it.’

Just then, a gentle hand touched Evren’s shoulder.

Evren turned to see Amber standing beside him, holding a small glass of cider with a warm, inquiring smile.

"Everything alright over there?" Amber asked softly, glancing toward the dance floor where Giselle was quickly slipping away.

"Everything is fine," Evren smiled warmly, taking her hand into his. "Just tying up an old loose end."

Amber smiled back, leaning gently against his side as they enjoyed the rest of the evening.

—

The next morning, the sun rose brightly over the glass facade of Horizon Plaza.

Evren and Amber took the private elevator to the fourth floor, stepping into the newly established headquarters of Apex Guild.

The spacious four-thousand-square-foot floor was buzzing with activity.

Teams of technicians were busy unpacking high-grade mana-crystal and reinforced combat dummies that Mikay had purchased using the budget Evren authorized earlier in the week.

In the center training ring, Tobias and the ten recruits selected during the recent screening were running through physical conditioning drills and getting fitted for standardized armor.

Because Apex Guild was brand new, they didn’t have active raid party dispatches yet, but the foundation was coming together quickly.

Amber smiled with excitement as she walked over toward the training ring.

"The simulation ring layout is solid," Amber noted, walking over to the perimeter with an experienced eye.

She paused, watching the young recruit in front struggling to maintain his balance while blocking a heavy kinetic dummy.

Amber walked up to the edge of the mat. "What’s your name, recruit?"

The young man immediately straightened his posture, nervous and in awe as he looked at the legendary former Valkyrie standing on her own two feet.

"Tobias, ma’am!" he replied quickly, saluting with a fist over his chest.

Amber smiled warmly, gesturing for him to ease up.

"Relax, Tobias. Your upper body posture is excellent, but your footing is too wide on that defensive turn. If a high-rank beast charges your shield, you’ll lose your center of gravity. Bring your rear heel in two inches."

Tobias immediately adjusted his stance, bracing his shield against the dummy’s kinetic strike. His footing held firmly, absorbing the impact without budging an inch.

"That’s much sturdier!" Tobias beamed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Thank you, ma’am."

Amber smiled, offering practical tips to the other recruits. Watching her effortlessly command the floor, Evren felt a sense of quiet pride.

A few minutes later, Mikay stepped out of the executive wing, catching Evren’s eye and giving a subtle nod.

"Amber, feel at home," Evren said gently. "I have a quick administrative matter in the office."

"Go ahead," Amber smiled, turning back to Tobias.

Evren walked into his private corner office and closed the door.

Mikay approached the desk, setting down a tablet. "Chairman, here is the Sector Four intelligence you requested," Mikay reported in a low voice.

Evren tapped the screen.

The tablet displayed satellite imagery of an abandoned subterranean warehouse in the industrial slums of Sector 4, along with underground surveillance logs:

[TARGET VENUE: ARENA #9 — THE IRON ABYSS]

OPERATOR: Black-Skull Debt Syndicate (Leader: Iron-Jaw Balthazar)

DETAILS: Unregulated subterranean blood-fighting colosseum encased in an 80% mana-suppression barrier.

PRIMARY EVENT TONIGHT (8:00 PM): High-stakes execution death match and illegal slave auction.

FEATURED ASSET: Zephyra Nightshade (Former S-Rank Shadowblade Assassin). Paralyzed mana conduits, severe necrotic dark poisoning, bound in an iron suppression collar.

Evren focused his eyes, checking his private System interface:

[TIME REMAINING UNTIL EXECUTION: 07 HOURS, 42 MINUTES, 15 SECONDS]

"The Black-Skull Syndicate operates completely outside city regulations," Mikay explained. "They use remote collar detonators and starved dimensional beasts to force injured awakeners into lethal blood matches for high-stakes underworld gamblers.

"From what I gathered, Zephyra was betrayed by her former raid captain after an S-Rank dungeon incident, saddled with fabricated guild debt, and sold to Arena Number Nine. They’ve scheduled her for a public execution and slave auction tonight at eight o’clock."

Evren’s eyes narrowed slightly. "A fallen S-Rank treated as disposable entertainment for criminals."

"Precisely, Chairman," Mikay nodded. "Multiple underworld warlords and black-market syndicates from Sectors Three and Four have already registered for the auction."

"Keep this quiet, Mikay," Evren instructed calmly. "Ensure our logistics fleet remains on standby near the Sector Four border, but do not send regular security into the venue. I will handle Arena Nine personally."

"Understood, Chairman."

—

At 7:00 PM, dusk fell over the city with a cold, steady drizzle.

Amber knocked softly on the office door, stepping inside with her coat over her arm.

"The recruits just finished their evening drills, Evren," Amber smiled warmly. "Are you ready to head back home together?"

Evren closed the tablet on his desk and stood up, offering a gentle, reassuring smile.

"You head home with the security escort first, Amber," Evren replied. "I have a few logistics inspections to review down in the lower districts. I’ll join you at the manor later tonight."

Amber looked at him, sensing his focus, but trusted him completely. She reached up, gently straightening the collar of his shirt.

"Don’t stay out too late," Amber whispered with a soft smile. "I’ll have Arthur keep dinner warm for you."

"I won’t be long," Evren kissed her forehead.

Amber nodded, heading toward the private elevator with the executive guard team.

Once the elevator doors closed, Evren walked into the private lounge adjacent to his office.

He put on a simple, dark trench coat over his shirt to stay low-profile. On his right hand, his storage ring held his Frost-Bane Cleaver and Glacial Wyvern Mantle, ready to be summoned in an instant.

He retrieved the obsidian Umbra Sovereign Medallion and slid it securely into his inner coat pocket.

Evren took the private elevator down to the basement garage, stepping out into the cold, rain-slicked streets.

Twenty minutes later, Evren crossed the perimeter checkpoint into the lawless neon slums of Sector 4.

The towering glass skyscrapers of Sector 1 were replaced by rusted iron tenements, flickering holographic advertisements, and dark, unpaved alleys filled with thick sewer steam.

Evren walked calmly down a narrow side street toward the coordinates of Arena #9, the cold rain dripping from the brim of his coat.

From the shadows of an alley ahead, four heavy-set men in spiked leather jackets and respirator masks stepped out, blocking the sidewalk.

Behind Evren, two more figures emerged from a side doorway, holding iron pipes and humming electric shock daggers.

The leader of the group... a scarred brute with a crude mechanical eye grinned viciously, tapping an iron pipe against his palm.

"Look what we have here," the scarred brute sneered, sizing up Evren’s tailored clothes. "A lost rich boy wandering into Sector Four after dark."

The thugs slowly closed the circle around him.

"Toll fee for breathing our air, kid," the brute chuckled darkly. "Hand over the coat, the wallet, and everything in your pockets, and maybe we won’t break your legs."

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