Investing In My Four Crippled Yandere Wives Get 1000x Returns
Chapter 2|Two Broken Systems

Chapter 2: 2|Two Broken Systems

[SYSTEM DETECTED]

[Would you like to initialize?]

Allen stared at the floating panel of translucent blue light hovering in the dust-choked air of the living room, half-convinced he’d finally snapped under the weight of the day. He reached out, half-expecting his hand to pass through nothing but air.

His fingers brushed against something faintly warm, like sunlight trapped in glass.

’Okay. Not a hallucination, then.’

"...Initialize," he said quietly, feeling more than a little ridiculous talking to thin air in the middle of an abandoned house.

The panel pulsed once, then unfolded into a wall of text.

[Welcome, Host.]

[The Investment Returns System has been unlocked.]

[The 1000x Multiplier System has been unlocked.]

[These systems were sealed at birth due to an anomaly in your bloodline authentication. Seal broken. Conditions for unsealing: Host has entered a state of found-family bonding with four (4) individuals of Mythic-tier or higher potential.]

Allen read the words twice. Then a third time.

’Sealed at birth?’ His hands curled into fists. ’That’s why I awakened as F-rank. It was never that I had no talent. Someone — something — locked it away.’

He forced the thought aside for later. Right now, there were more pressing questions.

"...What do you do?" he muttered.

[The Investment Returns System: Rewards the Host for every act of genuine kindness, sacrifice, or care shown toward his registered dependents. Reward tier scales with sincerity, effort, and the emotional impact on the recipient.]

[The 1000x Multiplier System: Multiplies all rewards generated by the Investment Returns System by a randomized or fixed factor, up to 1000x. Multiplier scales with Host’s growth and the strength of the bond formed.]

[Note: Rewards will manifest as bloodline upgrades, ability upgrades, equipment, or stat growth for the Host and/or registered dependents. Registered dependents: Myria Veton, Irene Veton, Everlyn Veton, Vivian Veton.]

Allen sat in silence for a long moment, the couch groaning faintly beneath him as he shifted his weight. Outside, the wind rattled against the loose shutters, and somewhere down the hall, he could hear the faint murmur of the girls settling in for the night — Irene’s muffled laugh, quickly hushed, and Everlyn’s soft, wordless humming carried by the creak of old floorboards.

’So. Every time I do something kind for them, I get stronger. Every time they’re happy because of something I did, it gets multiplied. Up to a thousand times.’

He almost laughed. It was almost funny — no, it was ’actually’ funny, in the miserable, ironic way his entire life had been lately. He’d been given the power to turn simple kindness into world-shaking strength.

And the four women he was supposed to use it on wouldn’t even let him wheel a chair three feet.

"Convenient," he muttered under his breath. "Absolutely perfect timing, whoever’s writing this joke of a life."

He pulled up what he assumed was some kind of status menu next, more out of curiosity than expectation.

[Host: Allen Veton]

[Rank: F]

[Bloodline: None]

[Ability: Common — Throw]

[Investment Points: 0]

[Multiplier: x1 (Base)]

He stared at the single word under ’Ability’ for a solid ten seconds. ’Throw.’ Not "Enhanced Strength." Not "Telekinesis." Just... throw. The most basic, laughably mundane ability a person could awaken with, one usually given to background extras in every Hunter livestream Allen had ever half-watched growing up.

’No wonder they wanted to get rid of me.’

But then his eyes drifted to the Multiplier line, and something in his chest, something that had been curled up and quiet since the day his family looked at his F-rank status and decided he was worth less than the dust in this house, stirred awake.

’A thousand times nothing is still nothing. But a thousand times something...’

He closed the panel with a thought, and it winked out of existence, leaving him alone again in the dark living room. He sat there for a while longer, turning the information over in his mind, piecing together the shape of the opportunity he’d been handed. Then, quietly, he rose from the couch and made his way toward the hallway, drawn by the soft murmur of voices from the girls’ shared room.

He didn’t go in. He wasn’t foolish enough to intrude after the day they’d had. But he paused just outside the door, close enough to hear fragments of conversation drifting through the thin wood.

"...still don’t understand why we have to—" Irene’s voice, hushed but heated, cut off abruptly.

A pause. Then Myria’s voice, calm and clipped as ever. "He didn’t choose this either. Don’t forget that."

"I know that," Irene shot back, quieter now. "Doesn’t mean I have to like watching him try."

Everlyn said nothing — she couldn’t — but Allen could picture the soft, sad press of her lips even without seeing her face, could imagine Vivian sitting beside her, blind eyes fixed on nothing, listening to every word with that unreadable calm of hers.

Allen stepped back from the door before he could hear more, an odd, hollow feeling settling into his chest.

’They don’t hate me. But they don’t want me close, either. There’s something else going on here. Something they’re not telling me.’

He returned to the living room and lay back down on the ancient couch, staring up at the water-stained ceiling as the house settled into silence around him.

’Fine. If actions are what earns points in this system, then actions are what I’ll give them. Whether they let me close or not.’

He thought back to the bedroom he’d cleaned earlier — the one they’d quietly redone behind his back the moment he stepped away. He thought about the way Myria had refused his hands on her wheelchair, the way Everlyn had reached for Vivian instead of him, the way none of them had spoken a single word of thanks or protest, just... distance. Careful, deliberate distance.

’I don’t need them to accept me tonight. I’ve got time.’

He closed his eyes, exhaustion from the day finally catching up to him, and just before sleep took him under, one last thought drifted through his mind.

’Let’s see what "genuine kindness" is worth around here.’

* * *

He woke at dawn to the smell of dust and old wood, back aching from the couch’s ruined springs, and the quiet, deliberate sound of someone moving around the kitchen.

Allen sat up slowly, blinking against the pale morning light filtering through the grime-streaked windows, and found Everlyn already awake — moving carefully through the wrecked kitchen with a rag in hand, wiping down a counter that hadn’t seen a clean cloth in years.

She startled slightly when she noticed him watching, green eyes going wide for half a second before that wholesome, big-sister warmth smoothed back over her expression. She gave him a small nod — a silent good morning — and went right back to cleaning, careful not to look at him for too long.

Allen watched her for a moment, an idea already forming.

’If they won’t let me help them... maybe I need to find a way to help that doesn’t feel like help at all.’

He rose from the couch, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders, and made his way toward the kitchen.

"Morning," he said simply, keeping his tone light. "Mind if I take a look at breakfast? I used to be decent in a kitchen, believe it or not."

Everlyn paused, rag still in hand, gaze flicking toward him with faint, cautious surprise.

For the first time since the car ride into Hegeville, she didn’t immediately turn away.