Pampering Discarded Heroines Triggers My 10,000x Rebate System

Five minutes had barely passed when a knock sounded from inside the shipping container.

A guard stepped forward and pulled back the iron deadbolt. The steel door swung outward with a dull creak.

Zephyra stepped out into the morning sunlight, her silver hair catching the breeze. Her hands were tucked casually into her dark jacket pockets, and her expression was completely calm, without a single speck of dust or sweat on her clothes.

Evren, Amber, and Derrick looked past her into the open container.

Shift Foreman Varner was still sitting on the metal chair, but his arrogant sneer was completely gone. He was slumped sideways, trembling uncontrollably from head to toe. His face was as pale as chalk, and his wide, vacant eyes stared at the steel floor in terror.

Zephyra pulled her right hand from her pocket and tossed the unlocked burner phone to Derrick.

"4th Industrial Avenue, Sector Two," Zephyra said flatly. "The third warehouse behind the eastern freight yard. Young Master Prescott is inside with fifteen private guards and the communication array."

Derrick caught the phone, looking from the screen to the shivering foreman in disbelief. "What did you do to him?"

Zephyra gave a small shrug. "We just had a conversation."

"Good work, Z," Evren said with a faint smile.

Derrick turned to Evren. "I can call the Sector Two precinct captains right now. With this burner phone and Varner’s confession, we can have local squad cars surround that warehouse in twenty minutes."

"No," Evren shook his head. "Local precinct captains answer to district magistrates who sit in Lord Alistair’s pocket. The moment a regular patrol car rolls up, a Prescott lawyer will show up with a stay order, and Young Master Prescott will walk out the back door."

Amber stepped beside Evren. "Then how do we make this stick?"

"We bypass the district courts entirely," Evren replied. He turned to Mikay, who was standing by the command trailer steps. "Mikay, call the Mayor’s office."

Mikay nodded instantly, pulling out his tablet and dialing the official executive line for City Hall.

"This is Director Mikay of Apex Sovereign Conglomerate," Mikay spoke firmly into the receiver. "I need an immediate priority connection to Mayor Henderson for Chairman Evren Crawford regarding a mass-casualty industrial attack in Sector One."

There was a brief pause as the Mayor’s executive assistant verified the credentials. Less than ninety seconds later, the line clicked, and Mayor Henderson’s deep voice came over the speaker.

"Evren. My office just received preliminary reports of a power failure at Mine Three. What’s the situation on the ground?"

"It wasn’t an accident, Mayor," Evren said calmly. "Someone poured Corrosive Silver-Acid into the primary hoist calipers and dropped forty miners three hundred feet down the shaft. We pulled all forty men out alive, and we have the saboteur in custody."

Mayor Henderson’s breath hitched. "Attempted mass murder in a certified metropolitan mine? Do you have a suspect?"

"We have the physical acid canisters, the keycard access logs, and an encrypted burner phone recovered on site," Evren stated directly. "The direct orders and payment were dispatched from a private logistics depot in Sector Two, operated by Young Master Prescott. Right now, his mercenaries are also blockading our ore transport routes."

Silence lingered on the line before Mayor Henderson spoke.

"This crosses every line of provincial law," Mayor Henderson said. "This is no longer a corporate dispute; this is state-level Commercial Terrorism. I am signing an Emergency Provincial Arrest Warrant right now. I’m mobilizing the Special Tactical Unit under Commander Briggs. They will meet your convoy at the Sector Two junction."

"Thank you, Mayor," Evren said. "We’ll see them there."

Twenty minutes later, four Apex SUVs joined a convoy of armored transports at the northern boundary of Sector Two.

Commander Briggs, a scarred veteran in matte-black armor, stepped out of the lead vehicle to greet Evren. He held a digital tablet showing Mayor Henderson’s signed arrest warrant.

"Chairman Crawford," Commander Briggs said with a nod. "Our units have cleared the blockades on the valley road. The mercenaries surrendered as soon as they saw our carriers, and the warehouse on 4th Industrial Avenue is now surrounded."

"Let’s move in," Evren said.

The combined strike force rolled down 4th Industrial Avenue, sealing off both ends of the freight yard. Inside the third warehouse, metal music echoed off the high corrugated ceiling.

In the center of the spacious office overlooking the loading floor, Young Master Prescott sat on a plush leather sofa. A glass of aged whiskey rested in his hand, and several laptops on the long desk displayed live feeds of the blocked valley roads.

"That’ll teach that peasant Evren," Prescott laughed to his chief bodyguard. "With Mine Three collapsed and the roads choked, Apex’s foundries won’t have a single pound of raw ore by tomorrow. My father will force him to sell the mining charter for pennies."

Suddenly, the warehouse’s external alarms blared loudly.

Red emergency lights flashed across the walls.

The live surveillance monitors on the desk flickered as one camera after another went dark. Outside, through the office’s frosted glass, the sounds of tearing metal and shouting guards filled the warehouse.

The live surveillance monitors on the desk flickered. On the main gate camera, Prescott watched in horror as a familiar black-and-gold Apex SUV rammed straight through the reinforced steel barrier, followed by four tactical carriers.

Prescott froze, holding his whiskey glass mid-air. "What is that?" he stammered, jumping to his feet.

Before the bodyguard could reach the door, his radio crackled with a frantic voice: "Captain! We’re breached! Apex’s convoy at the gate! It’s Chairman Evren! Special Tactical units..."

The transmission cut out with a sharp burst of static as the remaining cameras went pitch black.

Prescott panicked. His hands shook as he reached for the satellite phone on his desk, frantically dialing his father’s direct emergency number.

The call connected on the second ring.

"Dad!" Prescott screamed, his voice thick with panic. "Evren is here! He’s brought armored units to the depot and is breaking in!"

BOOM!

The reinforced office door blew off its hinges, slamming into the opposite wall with a loud crash.

The shockwave knocked the phone from Prescott’s trembling hand. It landed face-up on the mahogany desk, the call still active.

Thick smoke poured into the room.

Through the haze, six officers from the Special Tactical Unit stormed inside in formation, their high-powered mana-carbines raised and riot shields locked tight.

"Drop your weapons! Hands on your head!" Commander Briggs’s voice boomed.

Prescott’s private bodyguards dropped their weapons and dropped to their knees with their hands raised.

Prescott, with his face flushed red with rage, reached into his jacket and pulled out a gold-plated enchanted mana-pistol. "Do you know who I am?! My father will have all your badges by morning!"

Two Special Tactical officers moved with speed.

The first officer stepped in and struck Prescott’s wrist with the edge of his shield, sending the gun flying across the room. The second officer grabbed Prescott’s shoulder, twisted his arm behind his back, and slammed him face-down onto the desk.

Mana-suppression handcuffs clamped tightly around Prescott’s wrists, cutting off his internal mana flow with a dull hiss.

"Ian Prescott," Commander Briggs declared in a loud, formal tone, holding up the glowing warrant. "You are under arrest by order of the Mayor’s Office for Mass Attempted Murder, Industrial Sabotage, and Provincial Commercial Terrorism."

"Let go of me!" Prescott shrieked, struggling as two officers hauled him off the desk. "Evren! You dead peasant! You think a mayor’s warrant can protect you?! My father will tear your company to shreds! He’ll burn down all you own to the ground!"

Evren stepped through the doorway with his hands in his jacket pockets. Amber and Zephyra stood behind Evren, watching the spectacle quietly.

Within seconds, the footsteps faded down the metal catwalk, leaving the office completely quiet.

On the desk, the dropped satellite phone was still glowing. A low, deep voice suddenly echoed from the phone’s speaker.

"Evren Crawford."

Evren’s eyes shifted to the phone on the desk.

"Lord Alistair," Evren said calmly.

"You crossed a line you cannot walk back from," Lord Alistair’s voice came through. "You touch my son, and before tomorrow’s sunrise, Horizon Plaza and Victoria Hill will be reduced to ash."

Evren walked over to the desk, picked up the phone, and brought it to his ear. "I’ll be waiting," he replied then tapped the screen to end the call.

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