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

Amber workshop lights dimmed after Mina locked the final door and disabled every academy camera herself.

Damien stood beside her cot wearing a torn field coat, ’the door is locked and nothing wants murder, damn, why does this feel more dangerous than Flood Line?’

The awards still echoed outside through distant campus speakers, though thick workshop walls reduced them to a soft vibration.

Mina placed the Floodheart inside her strongest safe and turned with both hands resting against its locked door.

Her braid had loosened across one shoulder, while dried river water marked the fitted shirt beneath her open workshop coat.

"Before anything starts, tonight promises nothing beyond what we both choose tomorrow," she said, watching his face without hiding nervousness.

"Yeah, I want tonight without turning it into ownership afterward," Damien replied, leaving both hands visible beside his body.

"Good, and either person can end this immediately without persuasion or injured pride," Mina answered, stepping closer until her boots touched his.

"Agreed, though my pride survived you naming Gutter Style publicly," he said, feeling her fingers catch the ruined edge of his collar.

’She is nervous too, good, somehow that makes breathing easier instead of worse.’

Mina pulled him down by the coat and kissed his split lower lip carefully before testing how much pressure he could take.

Pain mixed with warmth when Damien’s hand found her waist, yet she guided it beneath the loose workshop fabric herself.

"Your skin is freezing after spending half of finals underwater today," she murmured, pressing closer while one thumb traced his jaw.

"Your workshop heating remains criminally weak for somebody controlling six fire tools," he replied, kissing the corner of her mouth.

"Nah, that excuse will not make me fix your temperature personally," Mina said, then opened his coat with one sharp pull.

The reinforcement seam gave way exactly where Flood Line had torn it, dropping black fabric around Damien’s boots.

’She designed an emergency release and still looks offended by the damage, yeah, maybe avoid laughing while her hands touch my chest.’

Mina followed the fresh scar beneath his ribs and stopped when his muscles tightened around lingering pain.

"Does this hurt enough to stop, or are you making another terrible face naturally?" she asked, keeping her palm still above the injury.

"It hurts, but stopping remains very far from what I want," Damien replied, covering her hand without moving it lower.

Her amber eyes searched his expression once more before she kissed him harder, pushing the torn coat from both shoulders.

Damien lifted her onto the edge of the workbench, then paused until Mina wrapped both legs around his waist.

’For real, she chose closer, so quit thinking through every movement like a trapped corridor, you absolute clown.’

She laughed against his mouth when a loose tool rolled beneath his elbow and struck the floor.

"Gutter Style apparently loses all coordination around an unclothed woman," Mina said, pulling her shirt over one shoulder.

"My training covered knives rather than gorgeous artificers sabotaging concentration," he replied, feeling heat reach her face beneath his fingers.

"That line almost sounded prepared," she answered, biting lightly near his jaw, "try again after your brain stops working."

Damien kissed the warm skin below her ear instead of attempting anything clever, drawing one broken sound from Mina before her hand tightened behind his neck.

’There, she liked that, damn, remember the reaction without turning this into another combat assessment.’

Her workshop coat fell beside his ruined clothes while amber light moved over scarred skin and muscles built through too many survival events.

Mina touched each newer mark without pity, then guided his mouth toward the places that made her grip lose precision.

Their first awkward collision against the bench became laughter, and another kiss swallowed it before embarrassment could survive.

"Move us toward the cot before my soldering station creates an unforgettable medical report," she whispered, holding his shoulders.

"That might become the first sensible workshop instruction you gave me," Damien replied, lifting her while she remained wrapped around him.

"Insult my instructions again and tonight becomes a practical examination," Mina said, pulling him down onto the narrow mattress.

’She is still joking, good, this feels like us instead of some reward scene the story prepared.’

The cot creaked beneath their combined weight while clothing gathered near its metal legs and workshop fans cooled overheated skin.

Mina set the pace through every uncertain touch, stopping whenever his injuries pulled, then choosing to continue after each answer.

Damien learned her confidence changed into breathless impatience when his mouth reached her stomach, which she tried hiding by insulting his hair.

"If you stop there, rich boy, I will personally reopen something expensive," she said, fingers tightening against his scalp.

"Your encouragement becomes much clearer whenever complete sentences disappear entirely," he replied, kissing lower until her next answer lost every word.

’Okay, definitely correct, keep doing that before she recovers enough vocabulary to murder me.’

Time disappeared beneath warm skin and amber shadows until the workshop alarms marked midnight without receiving attention.

Mina pulled Damien back toward her mouth, stated what she wanted plainly, then waited for his answer before either moved further.

He said yes without joking, and the moment became theirs through every clumsy pause that followed.

Later, she lay across his chest beneath one thin sheet while the repair lamp painted soft gold through her loose black hair.

Damien stared at the ceiling with one hand resting against her bare back, ’still alive, happy too, which somehow feels harder to trust.’

Mina lifted her head and caught whatever expression accompanied that thought.

"Do not become emotionally mysterious after seeing me naked," she said, drawing one finger across his collarbone, "use normal words."

"I feel happy, but nervousness keeps making tomorrow look completely uncertain," Damien replied, naming the emotion before instinct could hide it.

"Tomorrow changes workshop access," she answered, placing a small amber key against his chest, "knock once, then enter unless I revoke it."

"That sounds dangerously close to trust from somebody who threatened my forehead yesterday," he said, closing his fingers around the key.

"It is trust, idiot, so please avoid making me regret the expensive version," Mina replied, settling beneath his chin again.

’She said it plainly, damn, maybe I can accept something without searching for the hidden invoice.’

The Fate Bond panel appeared near the repair lamp, quieter than its first interruption.

[Fate Bond detected]

[Mina Park]

[Current state: Unanchored]

[Re-anchor requires informed mutual choice]

Damien closed it before the system could offer another condition, keeping the amber key beneath his palm instead.

’Her choice remains hers tomorrow, good, the system finally learned enough to wait outside.’

Morning found Mina asleep across his shoulder while academy alerts vibrated three abandoned phones beside the workbench.

Damien reached the nearest one without disturbing her and opened Halcrest’s semester posting.

[Semester Board finalized]

[Ascension Board: #96 → #74]

[Public registry correction]

[Registered level: 151 → 230]

He felt excitement rise through every sore muscle, ’seventy-four, damn, the Trash heir entered the first hundred before semester end.’

Mina opened one eye against his chest and read the bright screen upside down.

"Congratulations, your rank finally became less embarrassing than this cot’s weight limit," she said, pulling the sheet higher.

"My rank survived, while your unfortunate furniture requires immediate structural reinforcement," Damien replied, noticing one bent support beneath them.

"Blame Gutter Style before my workshop files a harassment claim," she answered, hiding a smile against his shoulder.

A system preparation panel opened after the Board settled, showing every purchase queued for Sterling’s conclave.

[Conclave preparation complete]

[Floodheart tempering reserved]

[Script Page secured]

[System Points: 33,880 → 18,880]

The full Movement status followed, placing his previous milestone beside each current result.

[Damien Sterling]

[Level: 155 → 244]

[Public registered level: 151 → 230]

[System Points: 9,840 → 18,880]

[Debt held: 0 → 0]

[Divergence: 11% → 25%]

[Foreknowledge Integrity: 75%]

[Ascension Board: #197 → #74]

[Active skills: Eye of Reckoning, Sinner’s Brand, Blood Ledger, Stay of Execution, Reckoning, Flicker, Iron Veil]

[Title: The Villain]

[Gear: Tempered Sterling saber, Floodheart, Unwritten egg]

[Death Flag: The Finale]

Mina saw only his distant focus and pushed the silver conclave envelope against his bare stomach.

"Your brother sent another expensive threat while we were busy," she said, sitting upright beneath the sheet, "open it before breakfast gets cold."

Damien broke Cassius’s seal and found one formal summons beneath a handwritten final line.

[Attend willingly, brother, before Father interprets absence as surrender.]

’Cassius signed it himself, fine, he can watch the supposed Trash heir walk into his family mountain without kneeling.’

Damien dressed beneath Mina’s amused supervision, pocketed her amber key and left for Sterling residence with the summons unfolded.