Investing In My Four Crippled Yandere Wives Get 1000x Returns
Chapter 25|Playing with Fire

Chapter 25: 25|Playing with Fire

It happened three days later, during what had otherwise been a thoroughly unremarkable afternoon.

Irene had commandeered the kitchen under the flimsy pretext of "finally getting good at this cooking thing," which had so far resulted in exactly one edible dish and considerably more scorched cookware than Allen felt comfortable acknowledging out loud. He leaned against the doorway, watching her attempt to flip something in a pan with far more enthusiasm than technique, and found himself smiling despite the small kitchen fire she’d need to explain to Everlyn later.

"You’re staring," Irene said, not turning around, somehow sensing his presence through whatever restless instinct compensated for her missing hearing.

"You’re on fire," Allen pointed out mildly. "Not you specifically. The pan."

"That’s intentional!" Irene insisted, though she did finally glance down and yelp, swatting hastily at the small flame now licking up the side of the stove. "Okay, that part wasn’t intentional."

Allen crossed the kitchen, smothering the flame with practiced ease born from weeks of exactly this kind of domestic chaos, and found Irene grinning at him unrepentantly despite the minor culinary disaster.

"You could just let me handle dinner," he said, amusement plain in his voice.

"And deprive you of watching me suffer through this? Never." She bumped her shoulder against his, red hair falling loose from its usual messy tie. "Besides, I want to be good at something that isn’t just burning things down on purpose. Feels nice, having a hobby that doesn’t come with a body count attached."

Something in her tone, light as she tried to keep it, carried an old, familiar weight beneath the joke. Allen studied her for a moment. "You’re allowed to just enjoy things, Irene. Doesn’t need to mean anything deeper than that."

"I know." She smiled, softer now, some of her usual bravado slipping. "Still nice to hear, though."

It was in that quiet, unremarkable moment — no grand declaration, no dramatic confrontation, just two people standing in a scorched kitchen sharing something simple and genuine — that the warmth pulsed through the room again, brighter and more sudden than it had for Myria three days prior.

Irene gasped, staggering slightly as brilliant orange-red light erupted from her chest, spreading down her arms in intricate, flame-like patterns that mirrored the same crystalline beauty Myria’s frost had carried, but wilder, fiercer, more alive.

[Reward Manifestation: Bloodline Evolution — Dependent: Irene Veton]

[Phoenix Bloodline (Dormant, Suppressed by Injury) → Phoenix Bloodline (Awakened, Rank: Supreme)]

[Effect: Pyrokinetic output restored to pre-injury capacity and beyond. Passive regenerative capability significantly enhanced. Auditory limitations remain unaffected — bloodline power and physical injury are governed by separate systems.]

Irene stared down at her own glowing hands, breath catching audibly, flames dancing across her fingertips with a level of controlled, effortless power that hadn’t been present even during their most intense sparring sessions.

"Holy—" She laughed, disbelieving and delighted all at once, summoning a small phoenix-shaped construct of pure flame that hovered above her palm, wings unfurling with intricate, lifelike detail. "Allen. ALLEN. Look at this!"

"I’m looking," he said, grinning at her obvious, unrestrained joy.

"This is Supreme-tier," Irene breathed, turning her glowing hands over, examining the flame patterns racing across her skin with wide, wondering eyes. "I never even hit this level before the injury. This is stronger than I ever was." Her gaze shot up to meet his, something fierce and grateful blazing behind her crimson eyes. "You did this."

"The system did this," Allen corrected gently. "I just kept choosing to care."

"Same thing, as far as I’m concerned." Irene closed the distance between them in an instant, flame-warm hands cupping his face as she kissed him fiercely, joyfully, the phoenix construct dissolving into a shower of harmless embers around them both.

When she finally pulled back, breathless and grinning, she pressed her forehead against his, eyes bright with unshed, happy tears. "I still can’t hear," she admitted quietly, some of her earlier vulnerability resurfacing beneath the joy. "That part hasn’t changed."

"I know," Allen said softly.

"But this—" She held up her still-glowing hands between them. "This feels like proof that I’m not just the broken leftover of what I used to be. I’m still growing. Still becoming something." Her smile turned fierce, determined. "And I plan on becoming something absolutely terrifying, by the way. Fair warning."

Allen huffed a warm laugh, pulling her into a proper embrace, mindful of the flames still flickering faintly along her skin. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

---

The commotion, predictably, drew the rest of the household within minutes — Myria wheeling in with sharp, assessing curiosity, Everlyn’s eyes going wide with delighted surprise at the sight of Irene’s glowing hands, Vivian tilting her head thoughtfully, already parsing the shift in the room’s ambient heat.

"Supreme-tier," Myria noted approvingly, studying the readings with clear professional interest despite the domestic chaos surrounding them. "The Shared Growth Protocol seems to be accelerating. Three days between manifestations, compared to the weeks it took for Allen’s initial bloodline awakening."

"Bond strength probably factors into activation speed," Vivian mused. "The stronger and more established the connection, the faster the system delivers."

Everlyn, notepad already in hand, held up a quick message with a hopeful, curious smile.

’Does that mean I’m next?’

"Maybe sooner than you think," Allen said, glancing around at all four of them — Myria’s restored frost, Irene’s blazing new flame, Everlyn’s quiet anticipation, Vivian’s thoughtful calculation — and felt something deeply, thoroughly content settle into his chest.

’They called us outcasts,’ he thought, watching Irene proudly show off yet another intricate flame construct to an audience of genuinely impressed onlookers. ’Let’s see how long it takes them to start calling us something else entirely.’