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

Finals week turned Mina’s workshop into a graveyard of empty cups and half-repaired equipment.

Damien stepped over three sparking tool cases near midnight, ’damn, she has slept less than me, which feels medically offensive after Northglass.’

Mina lay beneath a practice construct with both boots sticking past its open chest, tightening something that complained through blue sparks.

"Hey, your left stabilizer keeps insulting me whenever Flicker changes direction," Damien said, placing food beside her nearest hand.

"That stabilizer learned complaints from its ungrateful test subject," she answered, reaching for the wrapped sandwich without leaving the machine.

The Unwritten egg sat inside its glass bowl on her bench, shaped almost round today except for one pointed corner.

Damien had tried fruit, mana crystals and cooked meat without earning any response from its shifting shell.

’A level four-hundred Correction dies for this thing, yet the mysterious reward refuses breakfast, excellent, picky loot feels completely normal.’

The workshop door opened after three nervous knocks, admitting Tovin with six study tablets stacked beneath his chin.

"Lord Sterling, Lady Ashe requested current rift casualty projections without asking where you would study tonight," he said, nearly dropping the top tablet.

"That sentence worked extremely hard to avoid saying Vivienne asked about me," Damien replied, taking half the stack.

"She specifically refused any personal question, then corrected my route toward this workshop," Tovin answered, adjusting his oversized collar.

Mina rolled from beneath the construct and bit into her sandwich while watching Damien above its open chest.

"Your former fiancée has developed impressively efficient methods for not checking on you," she said, wiping grease against one sleeve.

"Her indirect concern still carries enough paperwork to injure messengers," Damien replied, placing the tablets beside Mina’s crowded monitor.

’Vivienne keeps looking from a distance, careful, figuring out her reasons might become much harder than surviving another duel.’

Tovin opened the first tablet and displayed finals casualty maps across the west wall.

"The academy assigned Flood Line Twelve despite unresolved Correction readings near its lower channels," he said, pointing toward three red marks.

"That route belongs to Lucas’s famous Year One medal scene later," Damien muttered, watching old foreknowledge sharpen around a rising wall of black water.

"I do not understand that description, though Lord Arden appears as rescue captain," Tovin replied, enlarging the team roster.

’Idiot, stop saying scene aloud around researchers who write down breathing patterns for fun.’

Damien covered the mistake by asking for every historic flood map before tomorrow morning.

Another knock struck the door twice, then Bram entered carrying four weapon cases and enough anxiety to bend his broad shoulders.

’Bram came back voluntarily, either desperation finally broke his judgment or something useful survived both arena beatings.’

His crooked nose remained swollen beneath short blond hair, while his academy coat hung loose after several weeks outside formal training.

"Sterling, I brought the equipment requisitions your workshop rejected this afternoon," he said, setting every case down without meeting Mina’s eyes.

"I rejected your face near my lock after you tried killing him twice," Mina replied, sliding from the construct with her wrench-hammer raised.

"That history has become extremely difficult to escape during ordinary errands," Bram answered, stepping behind the weapon cases.

Damien looked between Bram’s careful inventory labels and the replacement barrier packs inside each case.

’He organized everything by failure rate, huh, fear finally forced competence into the same body that once used fists for scheduling.’

"Why are you doing equipment runs for somebody who broke your clique?" Damien asked, checking one barrier seal for hidden marks.

"Every stronger group assumes I know your plans, while my former friends blame me for losing theirs," Bram replied, rubbing one bruised wrist.

"This arrangement is self-preservation wearing a rather ugly delivery uniform," Damien said, finding all four cases clean beneath Eye of Reckoning.

"Yes, but I can become considerably more useful than that sounds," Bram answered, pulling a thick notebook from his coat.

The pages tracked hostile rumors, challenge requests and students paid to watch Damien’s routes across campus.

Three entries matched Benefactor incidents, though Bram had marked them only as people behaving suspiciously around empty corridors.

’Damn, he found patterns academy security missed by listening to every frightened idiot near the training halls.’

"You followed these people personally after receiving two public beatings from me?" Damien asked, turning toward Bram’s last red entry.

"No, I paid younger students with meal tokens and remained somewhere defensible," Bram replied, looking offended by the suggestion.

"Cowardice finally evolved into operational judgment," Mina said, lowering her wrench-hammer, "I almost respect the improvement."

Bram straightened at the tiny compliment before remembering who had delivered it.

"Give me an actual position, Sterling, and I will keep threats away from your blind side," he said, planting both hands on the bench.

"You attacked that exact blind side during our previous gang challenge," Damien replied, watching Bram’s confidence fold around the reminder.

"Which means I understand how badly it required protection before you ruined five careers," Bram answered, refusing to step back.

’He came prepared for insults, good, maybe the bastard truly wants somewhere useful to stand after his script ended.’

Damien handed him the tablet showing historic flood routes and pointed toward the wall map.

"Track rumors around Flood Line Twelve, then report missing gear or altered team rosters directly to Mina," he said, closing Bram’s notebook.

"Directly to Park without any safer person standing between us?" Bram asked, glancing toward her hammer while one hand touched his crooked nose.

"Logistics requires surviving your supervisor’s extremely welcoming personality every day," Damien replied, moving the weapon cases toward her bench.

"My personality can test defective barrier packs directly through his forehead," Mina added, throwing Bram one academy access badge.

He caught it and stared at the temporary title glowing across its face.

[Logistics assistant: Bram Holt]

"This position carries less authority than my previous arena registration," Bram said, fastening the badge anyway.

"Your previous authority ended beneath my saber," Damien replied, opening the first finals map, "try keeping this one longer."

Bram left with Tovin after receiving six equipment errands and three rumor lists before midnight.

Mina watched both men disappear, then leaned against Damien’s shoulder while exhaustion finally won over sarcasm.

"You collect strange people whenever the story finishes beating them," she said, closing one eye beneath loose black hair.

"They become more interesting after everyone else stops assigning roles," Damien replied, keeping still so her head remained comfortable.

’Bram accepted that pathetic badge while Mina trusts him near her tools, damn, this group keeps getting stranger every day.’

The thought sounded dangerously polished, so Damien abandoned it and reached toward an old burned Script Page fragment beside the egg.

’That sounded almost profound, hurry, feed the egg before my internal voice starts writing speeches.’

"Weird breakfast, try eating expensive trash before Mina feeds you workshop screws," he said, touching the fragment against its shell.

The egg opened a thin black seam and swallowed the entire Script Page before either person could pull away.

’It ate fate residue ahead of ordinary mana, shit, this thing might sense every Correction long before my Eye does.’

Mina jerked upright as changing letters moved beneath its surface like small bones.

"Your rift egg refused meat for three days and immediately ate forbidden paper," she said, grabbing two scanners from the bench.

"Apparently it shares my unhealthy attraction toward extremely dangerous information," Damien replied, holding the glass bowl steady under her tools.

[Unwritten egg]

[Fate residue absorbed]

[Incubation: 3%]

The shell pointed toward Tovin’s forgotten tablet as Halcrest posted the finals assignment across its bright screen.

[Year One finals rift]

[Flood Line Twelve]

[Rescue captain: Lucas Arden]

[Damien Sterling: Forward support]

’Flood Line, Lucas gets his medal there, unless the hungry egg and I reach whatever Fate buried underneath first.’

Damien took the tablet while Mina began packing barrier modules for a route neither of them trusted.