Investing In My Four Crippled Yandere Wives Get 1000x Returns
Chapter 10|First Rift

Chapter 10: 10|First Rift

The rift sat on the outskirts of the city like an open wound in the sky — a jagged, shimmering tear of violet light hovering above a fenced-off stretch of abandoned industrial land, low-rank classification confirmed by the Association’s monitoring drones circling lazily overhead. E-rank, according to the briefing packet Myria had spent the last three days drilling into Allen’s head. Low risk. Beginner-friendly. Exactly the kind of dungeon nobody would look twice at if Fallen Crown happened to clear it quietly.

Which, of course, made it the perfect place to start.

"Remember the formation," Myria said, her wheelchair parked just outside the rift’s outer barrier, tablet in hand displaying a live feed from the small drone she’d insisted on deploying ahead of them. "Allen takes point, draws attention, uses terrain to create throwing angles. Irene provides ranged suppression the moment contact is made. Everlyn reinforces the environment to slow enemy approach. Vivian—"

"I know my job," Vivian said, a faint, wry smile tugging at her lips as she adjusted the strap of a small pack slung across her shoulder. "Sit outside the barrier and listen for trouble, since apparently my blindness makes me a liability the moment actual monsters get involved."

"It makes you a liability in ’this’ dungeon," Myria corrected evenly. "E-rank rift, low visibility requirements met by sound alone would normally be fine, but the terrain inside is unmapped rubble. One wrong step and you’re compromised before you can use your skills at all. This isn’t about doubting you. It’s about not wasting your talent on a fight that doesn’t need it yet."

Vivian’s smile didn’t fully fade, but she nodded, accepting the logic even if the frustration lingered faintly behind her calm expression.

Allen adjusted the strap of throwing implements Everlyn had helped him assemble — a mix of weighted steel darts and smooth river stones, cheap but effective ammunition for a Precision Throw ability that turned anything into a weapon the moment it left his hand — and took a slow breath, staring at the shimmering barrier ahead.

’First dungeon. First real test.’ He glanced back at Myria, Irene already crackling faintly with restrained heat at her fingertips, Everlyn’s palms pressed lightly against the ground as if already listening to the earth beneath them.

"Ready when you are," he said.

"Then go," Myria said. "We’ll be watching through the drone feed the whole time. If anything goes wrong, we pull you out immediately."

Allen nodded once, and stepped through the barrier.

---

The world on the other side shifted instantly — cracked industrial rubble giving way to something older, wilder, twisted stone corridors lit by pulsing veins of violet light embedded in the walls, the air thick with the faint, metallic tang of dungeon mana. Irene fell into step beside him without hesitation, flames already licking faintly along her knuckles, while Everlyn moved close behind, one hand trailing along the cracked stone as if reading something in its texture that Allen couldn’t perceive.

They found the first beasts within ten minutes — a small pack of Rustfang Hounds, low-rank constructs of jagged metal and snapping jaws, more nuisance than genuine threat at E-rank classification.

"Yours," Irene said, grinning, stepping back to let him take the lead.

Allen didn’t hesitate. He drew a steel dart, tracked the lead hound’s movement, and threw.

The dart didn’t just hit. It punched clean through the hound’s metal skull with a force that sent the creature skidding backward, twitching once before dissolving into a shower of dim, fading light — the telltale sign of a beast returning its energy to the dungeon core.

The remaining hounds surged forward, and Allen moved with them, throwing in rapid succession, each dart finding its mark with an accuracy that felt less like skill and more like his body simply ’knowing’ where each throw needed to land. Irene caught the two that slipped past him, twin bursts of flame reducing them to ash before they could close the distance, while Everlyn’s fingers pressed briefly against the stone floor, roots and vines bursting upward to snare a straggler’s legs long enough for Allen to finish it off.

Within minutes, the corridor fell silent, littered with fading light and the faint smell of scorched metal.

Allen stood there, breathing hard, adrenaline still thrumming through his veins, and felt the familiar chime of a system notification pulse at the edge of his awareness.

[Investment Detected: Act of Protection — "Successfully shielded dependents from direct combat engagement."]

[Sincerity: High. Emotional Impact: High.]

[Reward Generated: +200 Investment Points.]

[Multiplier Applied: x1 → Total Reward: 200 Investment Points.]

"Not bad," Irene said, sauntering up beside him, grin wide and genuine. "For a guy who was throwing paperweights around an office a week ago, that was almost impressive."

"Almost," Allen echoed, allowing himself a small, tired smile.

Everlyn tugged gently at his sleeve, holding up her notepad.

’You’re bleeding.’

Allen glanced down, only now noticing the shallow cut along his forearm where one of the hounds had caught him during the scramble. "It’s fine. Barely anything."

Everlyn’s expression firmed into something that brooked no argument, and before Allen could protest further, she’d already knelt beside him, fingers glowing faintly green as a small tendril of new growth wrapped gently around the wound, knitting the skin back together with a soft, warm pulse of natural energy.

"...Thank you," Allen said quietly, watching the cut seal shut, faint wonder threading through his voice despite himself.

Everlyn smiled, small and warm, and for once didn’t reach for her notepad at all — just a simple, unguarded nod, close enough now that Allen could feel the faint heat radiating from her healing touch, close enough that the careful distance she’d kept since Hegeville felt, for just a moment, entirely absent.

[Investment Detected: Reciprocal Care — "Dependent voluntarily initiated physical care for Host."]

[Sincerity: High. Emotional Impact: Very High.]

[Reward Generated: +175 Investment Points.]

[Bonus Condition Met: First instance of dependent-initiated affection. Bonus Multiplier +3x applied.]

[Total Reward: 525 Investment Points.]

Allen barely registered the number scrolling past, too caught up in the quiet, unguarded warmth in Everlyn’s emerald eyes, in the strange, unfamiliar feeling of being cared for by someone who had spent the last week refusing to let him do the same for her.

They pressed deeper into the dungeon as the hours passed, clearing rooms one by one, the rhythm between the three of them growing sharper and more instinctive with every fight — Allen’s throws, Irene’s flames, Everlyn’s roots weaving together into something that almost resembled the practiced coordination of a real party, rather than three people thrown together by circumstance and desperation.

By the time they reached the dungeon’s small core chamber — a modest, glowing stone pulsing at the center of a bare stone room, marking the rift’s boundary and its imminent closure — Allen felt exhaustion settling deep into his bones, muscles aching in ways that promised a rough morning ahead.

He struck the core with a final, precise throw, and the entire dungeon shuddered, violet light collapsing inward as the rift began its slow, familiar process of sealing shut.

[Dungeon Cleared: E-Rank Rift — "Rustfang Warren"]

[Reward Generated: +500 Investment Points (Dungeon Clear Bonus)]

[Total Investment Points: 1,875]

Allen stared at the number, breath catching slightly.

’Almost two thousand points. From one E-rank dungeon.’

He didn’t have time to dwell on it further — the moment they stepped back through the collapsing barrier, Myria was already wheeling forward, tablet forgotten in her lap, sharp eyes scanning over both of them for injuries with poorly concealed concern. Vivian stood just behind her, head tilted, a small, relieved smile tugging at her lips the moment she registered the sound of both their footsteps returning safely.

"Report," Myria said, though the clipped efficiency of her tone didn’t quite hide the worry beneath it.

"Cleared," Allen said simply. "No serious injuries. Dungeon’s sealed."

Myria studied him for a long moment, gaze lingering slightly on the faint, healed scar along his forearm, before something in her expression softened, just barely.

"Good," she said quietly. "Then get some rest. We start again tomorrow."

Allen glanced around at all four of them — Irene already recounting the fight with wild, exaggerated hand gestures, Everlyn quietly pleased beside her, Vivian’s relieved smile still lingering, Myria’s sharp eyes softened with something dangerously close to warmth — and felt, for the first time since his family had discarded him, something that felt unmistakably like home.