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

The projection stopped its greatblade one finger above Damien’s head, leaving Sovereign pressure pressed across his shoulders.

[Preparation interval granted]

[Time remaining: 03:00:00]

[External assistance prohibited after entry]

Silver barriers carried him toward a narrow antechamber before the weapon could finish turning his skull into expensive floor decoration.

’Three hours before that giant starts swinging again, right, panicking wastes time and my ribs already handled enough stupidity tonight.’

Damien sat beside a stone equipment bench while the system opened his unspent attributes across one trembling hand.

[Unallocated attributes: 64]

[Strength: 142]

[Agility: 151]

[Endurance: 166]

[Mana: 128]

[Perception: 139]

The projection had moved faster than his Eye could follow, which made adding everything into strength feel wonderfully useless.

’If I cannot see that blade coming, extra muscle only helps the undertaker lift me, damn, you absolute clown, think properly.’

He placed twenty points into Perception, then divided the remainder between Agility and Endurance until warmth crossed both legs.

[Strength: 142]

[Agility: 171]

[Endurance: 190]

[Mana: 128]

[Perception: 159]

The choice left his attacks weaker, though Verdict waited beyond several rooms rather than inside the first executioner’s chest.

A communication plate brightened over the bench, showing Mina behind workshop glass while Bram crowded one anxious cheek beside her shoulder.

Her black hair sat inside a messy knot pierced by two screwdrivers, with soot crossing the collar of her fitted gray work coat.

"Your family blocked my diagnostic feed after accepting the emergency patch," Mina said, tightening a brass contact against the plate.

"They also mentioned trespass charges three times," Bram added, holding a velvet inventory case against his broad academy jacket, "so naturally she threatened arson twice."

"Only twice means that entire conversation remained remarkably professional today," Damien replied, pushing himself upright before his damaged side complained louder.

’Good, they are both here, which means the gate has not eaten anyone else while I played target practice.’

Mina made him raise each arm, rotate both wrists, then breathe against the cracked rib until her display finished measuring.

"Your left side is carrying deferred trauma through a torn channel," she said, drawing one red line across his image, "heal it before training."

"The proctor gave three hours, and that thing outside probably considers medical rest a moral failure," Damien replied, opening his supply case.

"Nah, the dead cannot pay rush fees," she said, tapping the largest restorative vial until he picked it up, "drink every disgusting drop."

The liquid tasted hot enough to insult his tongue, then cold spread through the rib where torn mana channels began closing.

’She brewed fire and winter into one bottle, fuck, Mina could sell this as punishment to rich parents.’

Bram opened the velvet case through the plate connection, revealing three grimoires beside two thin Script Pages and the Unwritten egg.

"Your approved options are Iron Pulse, Shadow Anchor, or a single predictive page," he explained, keeping both hands far from the shell.

"Approved by whom, exactly, since Mina labeled Shadow Anchor suicidal yesterday?" Damien asked, rolling his healed shoulder beneath the coat.

"Approved by the inventory system," Bram replied, swallowing when the egg tapped its container, "which lacks her charming habit of personal abuse."

Mina shoved his face away from the plate and placed Iron Pulse beside her own test array.

"This grimoire hardens your next impact for four seconds," she said, burning a sample rune blue, "then every joint receives the leftover force."

"So it keeps the giant sword outside my body while making every elbow hate me afterward," Damien replied, watching the rune split.

"Which remains preferable to having your elbows distributed across the vault," she said, sliding the grimoire toward the transfer circle.

’Iron Pulse buys one mistake, Stay delays another, Flicker avoids several, which might keep this trial from becoming embarrassingly short.’

The grimoire arrived beneath his palm after the circle accepted twelve hundred SP from the preparation ledger.

[Iron Pulse acquired]

[Active slots filled: 6/6]

[Trial medical and transfer costs: 1,300 SP]

[System Points: 15,200 → 13,900]

Damien replaced Gutter Style inside the active kit, since proper Sterling constructs had stopped caring about dirty street footwork.

He spent the next forty minutes triggering Stay of Execution against weighted darts fired from the antechamber wall.

Every first attempt came late, leaving bruises across his stomach while the skill caught damage after impact instead of before contact.

’Again, watch the shoulder, feel mana gather, then activate before pain tells you what already happened.’

Mina adjusted the firing plate remotely until three darts arrived at different heights within half a second.

"Stop watching the metal points," she said, increasing pressure while one bolt struck his thigh, "read the launch grooves near that wall."

"Excellent advice after you put another hole through my trousers," he replied, ripping the dart free before its weight dragged.

"Those trousers possess no combat value," Mina answered, setting the next volley, "and neither does whining, so lift your guard."

Bram counted successful activations from behind her, though his voice climbed whenever a dart passed near Damien’s throat.

On the ninth sequence, Stay opened before all three launch grooves flashed and caught their combined damage inside one controlled window.

[Stay of Execution]

[Damage deferred: 60%]

[Release control available]

’Release control, oh, that changes everything if I can choose when the pain returns instead of waiting one minute.’

Damien pushed the stored damage into his healed forearm while Iron Veil covered the bone, reducing the backlash to a hot ache.

He repeated the sequence until his body stopped flinching at each groove and started responding to mana pressure instead.

Two hours remained when Bram lifted the first Script Page toward the transfer circle with visible reluctance.

"This contains one future vault route from your purchased reserve," he said, avoiding the egg, "use it before something develops another appetite."

The shell rocked inside a velvet brace, then one black crack opened across its surface before Damien touched the page.

’No, you hungry little bastard, that information cost more than my first apartment deposit.’

A pale tongue made from unfinished script slipped through the crack and crossed the transfer circle without respecting either ward.

It wrapped half the Script Page, pulled once, then swallowed every line beneath Mina’s descending wrench.

"Get that cursed little omelet away from my expensive records," she snapped, striking the tongue hard enough to scatter black letters across her bench.

Bram caught the egg under both arms while its shell vibrated against his chest with deeply satisfied little knocks.

"It breached a sealed inventory ward from another location," he said, backing toward the workshop cabinet, "please acknowledge how impossible that should be."

"Acknowledged, now stop hugging the thing that eats reality," Damien replied, grabbing the surviving page fragment from his circle.

Only four broken lines remained across it, showing a spiral stair beside words that changed whenever his gaze shifted.

[Corrupted Script fragment]

[Information integrity: 37%]

[Warning: Unwritten consumption detected]

’Great, my future dragon just ate foreknowledge and left crumbs, raising children must feel exactly this expensive.’

Mina trapped the egg beneath three copper cages while Bram recorded every missing line inside a shaking inventory form.

"You are billing him for a page consumed by his own familiar," Bram said, staring when her price appeared above the plate.

"Obviously, my favorite containment wrench suffered severe emotional damage today," she replied, tightening the final cage while the shell bumped her wrist.

"Charge the egg once it develops employment," Damien said, turning the fragment toward the chamber light, "I need whatever survived."

The remaining script showed a faceless shape beneath Verdict, with a second shadow standing where no trial witness belonged.

’That is not the Level two thousand four hundred proctor, something else waits inside Mother’s sealed route.’

He spent the final hour drilling Silverlight Draw against stone targets while Mina corrected his wrist through increasingly rude annotations.

The technique required stillness before release, which clashed with every instinct developed during academy ambushes and collapsing chambers.

"You keep rushing the cut once your opponent enters reach," Mina said, freezing one replay above his shoulder, "let the bastard commit first."

"Waiting near a giant weapon feels less intelligent from this side of the trial," Damien replied, resetting his stance beneath silver light.

"Then die hurried if patience offends your refined survival method," she answered, though both hands stayed fixed around the diagnostic controls.

’She is scared, damn, yelling keeps her fingers steady, so let her insult everything until the gate opens.’

Damien held his saber inside the low Sterling guard and waited while a training construct raised its blunt sword.

The strike entered range before Silverlight Draw left its sheath, cutting the target through active reinforcement instead of meeting raw force.

[Silverlight Draw proficiency increased]

He practiced until the movement stopped feeling borrowed from a dead family and started answering his own timing.

The plate dimmed as the final minute appeared above the sealed door, leaving Mina’s face behind weakening workshop light.

"Listen carefully, rich boy," she said, pressing one grease-marked finger against the glass, "if the fragment changes, abandon whatever route it promised."

"I learned that lesson when an egg ate half my tactical advantage," Damien replied, fastening the supply case against his belt.

"That is not what worries me," Mina said, lowering her voice while black letters crawled beneath the surviving page, "the missing lines are rewriting themselves."

Bram placed the caged egg inside a reinforced cabinet before returning to her side with his inventory tablet held ready.

"Survive first and dispute our charges later," he said, forcing steadiness into the request, "preferably before she dismantles this entire vault."

’They expect me back, good, that feels considerably better than entering another family grave for pride.’

Damien folded the corrupted fragment into his inner pocket and stood before the opening silver barrier.

[Preparation interval complete]

[Bloodright vault trial begins]

[Final chamber anomaly detected]

[Anomaly status: Impossible]

The Level 2,400 projection waited beyond the threshold while three sealed doors opened behind its greatblade.

Damien raised his saber as the communication plate went black, ’fine, Mother left a weapon here, and some faceless asshole wants it buried.’

He stepped into the proper trial before the projection could make that decision for him.