Villain's Refund System: The Protagonist's Harem Is Mine

Morning heat rolled through Workshop Three while Mina held Damien’s saber beneath a suspended ring of amber fire.

He sat across her bench beneath fresh shoulder binding, ’seriously, every visit here ends with either repairs or medical advice I plan to ignore.’

The black blade floated between six brass clamps as silver light crept through its tally, brightening whenever his ribs complained.

Mina noticed the change during her third adjustment and leaned closer, pushing cracked goggles above her messy black bun.

"Huh, your dramatic little stripe reacts whenever those injuries start hurting again," she said, turning a conductance dial beneath the guard.

"That sounds medically concerning, so naturally you look happier than before," Damien replied, keeping his wounded arm away from her tools.

"Yeah, unusual weapons make much nicer company than stubborn patients today," she answered, tapping the silver line until another pale mark appeared.

The Blood Ledger opened behind his eyes as her hammer touched heated steel.

[Flesh Debt: 31]

’Wonderful, the saber tattles now, which means hiding my balance around Mina just became much harder.’

She lowered the fire ring and inspected his grip, finding worn leather where Flicker kept turning formal cuts into close-range violence.

"Your hand keeps sliding upward during impact, rich boy, which explains this ugly damage near the collar," Mina said, pulling off the wrap.

"Formal grips leave too much blade between me and somebody’s throat," he replied, watching her uncover the black tang.

"Then your weapon needs to stop pretending it belongs at a noble recital," she answered, opening a drawer filled with fitted metal scales.

Damien looked over the unfamiliar pieces while she measured his palm through a thin mana frame, ’she understands the problem after one glance, damn, useful people are terrifying.’

Mina selected two short grip plates and cut angled channels into their inner faces, spraying hot silver dust across the bench.

"Put your hand here and show me that awful reverse transition again," she said, holding the unfinished hilt toward his chest.

He wrapped his fingers around bare metal, then shifted from saber alignment into the tight grip used against Bram.

The new plates caught his palm without locking his wrist, allowing either position through one short roll.

"That feels disgustingly good compared with the old grip," Damien admitted, repeating the transition while pain pulled beneath his bandage.

"Please keep those deeply suspicious noises professional inside my workshop today," Mina replied, though her grin appeared before she turned toward the forge.

’She absolutely waited for that sentence, you idiot, walk away before giving her better material.’

A camera drone hovered outside the cracked window, its academy crest pulsing above a live workshop channel.

Mina spotted it and threw a greasy cloth across the lens without interrupting her work.

"Halcrest, pay for the wall before stealing my repair stream," she called, welding both plates beneath a spray of amber sparks.

The drone backed away from her cloth, though its recording light remained visible through the stained fabric.

Comments poured across a nearby monitor where students argued about Damien’s gang challenge and the weapon that had broken Bram.

[Trash Aspect needs a custom saber now?]

[That silver line was dark during re-entry]

[Call his style House Sterling back-alley form]

Damien read the last comment and felt genuine offense, ’back-alley form sounds far too respectable for what happened to Bram.’

Mina removed the cloth after finishing her weld, letting the drone capture fresh leather tightening around the redesigned grip.

"No House teaches whatever he does near somebody’s knees," she said, rotating the blade before its audience, "that fighting belongs in a gutter."

The comment feed paused for half a second before hundreds of new messages arrived together.

[Gutter Style]

[That name actually fits]

[Gutter Style vs five formal schools tomorrow]

"You just named my entire combat method after street filth," Damien said, resting both elbows beside her scattered screws.

"I named what everyone watched," Mina replied, tightening the pommel, "your technique earned its own terrible reputation."

’Gutter Style, shit, they will never let that disappear, plus correcting them requires admitting where I learned it.’

She slid the relic shard from its padded case and held it near the saber’s exposed conductance channel.

Blue light jumped between both objects, forcing the silver tally bright enough to reflect across Mina’s amber eyes.

"This shard likes your weapon more than the registry liked old Vane," she muttered, lowering its output before the clamps shook loose.

"Can it survive Reckoning without exploding anywhere near my fingers again?" Damien asked, watching hairline cracks spread around one mounting point.

"It can after I stop you from touching anything for ten minutes," she replied, replacing the cracked bracket with a heavier piece.

Damien leaned back while her hands moved between heat valves, ’ten quiet minutes, impossible, though annoying her might cost actual fingers today.’

The workshop door opened behind him, admitting cool hallway air and one familiar white cape.

Vivienne stood beyond the threshold with ash-blond hair tied low, her steel-blue gaze fixed on Mina’s hands around Damien’s saber.

Her fitted academy jacket carried House Ashe silver across both cuffs, while a narrow practice blade rested against her left hip.

Damien turned halfway, surprised by the tension gathering inside his stomach, ’why is she here, no, better question, how did her attention become my problem?’

Mina glanced toward the doorway and raised one brow without stopping her work.

"Lady Ashe, if you came for repairs, take a number behind his ribs," she said, pressing the shard into its new housing.

"I came to observe the weapon modification listed on tomorrow’s challenge notice," Vivienne answered, keeping both hands behind her back.

"The official notice definitely mentioned my private workshop inspection schedule," Mina replied, giving the final clamp a pointed turn.

Vivienne’s mouth tightened before her gaze returned to Damien, then the silver tally flared under another pulse of lingering Debt.

"Does that silver light measure damage sustained during your combat exchanges?" she asked, stepping close enough to inspect the blade.

Damien felt Mina watching him across the forge, ’careful, one woman builds dangerous questions, while another cuts people for dishonest answers.’

"It responds whenever hostile pressure moves through my Aspect during combat," he replied, offering enough truth for the visible result.

"That answer avoided every useful detail with impressive efficiency, Lord Sterling," Vivienne said, meeting his eyes above the heated weapon.

"He practices whenever an ordinary conversation becomes remotely dangerous," Mina added, lifting the saber from its clamps with insulated gloves.

Damien accepted the hilt and felt the relic shard settle his mana before it reached the tally.

The weapon answered his reverse transition cleanly, with no pull against either wrist or wounded shoulder.

"Damn, Mina, this finally feels built around how I actually fight," he said, unable to hide the excitement spreading across his face.

Her teasing expression softened before she covered it by snapping the last tool case shut.

’That expression changed for half a second, easy, clown, let her finish speaking before inventing anything.’

"Obviously, I measured the idiot using it," she replied, nudging his boot away from a cooling cable, "try surviving long enough to justify my effort."

Vivienne watched their shared grin for one silent moment, then turned before Damien could ask anything useful.

"Lady Ashe, tomorrow has plenty of gallery seats if observation was truly your goal," he called, resting the saber across his palms.

She paused beneath the damaged doorway, fingers closing around the edge of her white cape.

"Your confidence remains irritating, Lord Sterling, though five opponents may finally correct it," Vivienne answered without facing him.

The words sounded formal, yet anger roughened their final edge before she walked into the corridor.

’She came here, saw Mina laughing with me, then left angry, oh, you absolute moron, do not smile right now.’

Mina waited until Vivienne disappeared before flicking a hot leather clipping against his chest.

"Your former fiancée looked thrilled about our productive morning," she said, packing the relic tools inside one drawer.

"Her happiness has always carried a fairly strong threat component around me," Damien replied, testing the safer grip through one slow cut.

His phone chimed as Halcrest upgraded tomorrow’s challenge into an academy broadcast, complete with sponsored commentary and live Board stakes.

Damien watched five opponent profiles fill the screen, ’they really registered every weapon, good, tomorrow nobody can claim an unfortunate misunderstanding.’

[Sanctioned gang challenge confirmed]

[Damien Sterling vs five registered challengers]

[Special condition: Clean victory required]

The saber tally flashed across the drone feed, and Gutter Style filled every comment before Damien left the workshop.