Spending For Rebates

A middle-aged man wearing a neatly ironed white shirt and dark trousers let out a deep yawn as he stretched in his office chair.

He was the owner of Imperial Tailors, one of the most luxurious clothing stores in all of New Beckley Mall.

Things hadn't always been this way. He had clawed his way up through years of hardship and struggle, building his empire one step at a time.

Now, he catered exclusively to the upper echelon of society, the kind of people who didn't flinch at dropping thousands on a single outfit.

Which was precisely why the sudden commotion in his store made him frown.

"What on earth…?" He said to himself as his ears picked up sounds of a commotion in his store.

He sighed deeply, then he pushed himself up and stepped out of his office, intent on finding the cause.

Outside, a small crowd had gathered near the counter. Employees and customers alike whispered amongst themselves.

His brows curved downward. 'What could possibly be causing this much noise?' he thought.

Spotting one of his attendants, he walked over to them. "You there," he said, keeping his tone firm. "What's going on?"

The attendant, startled by his direct approach, stammered, "I—I'm not exactly sure, sir. Something's happening at the counter."

The manager exhaled slowly, nodding. 'Not a helpful answer.'

He walked forward, moving through the onlookers politely but with firm movements, until he reached the front.

There, standing at the counter with a neatly folded stack of premium clothing, was a young man, early twenties at most. His attire was simple, clean, but slightly faded, very different from the regulars he was used to.

'Who is this…?' He thought, but they stopped when his eyes landed on the card in the young man's hand.

A black card.

His heartbeat quickened. 'That's impossible.'

Only the wealthiest of the wealthy possessed one. Seeing one here, in the hands of someone who didn't look like old money, was shocking enough to explain the crowd's reaction.

The manager's mind raced. If this young man was truly someone influential, then befriending him could be invaluable. But if he wasn't… well, black cards didn't just appear in the hands of random nobodies.

There was only one way to find out.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "What's all this ruckus about?"

His presence straightened the employees who were watching, and instinctively forced everyone to return to their work stations.

The receptionist at the center of it all, the one who had been confronting the young man, instinctively turned when she saw the man.

Realizing she was about to be put in a difficult position, she slowly backed away toward her desk.

Her colleague smirked when she arrived next to her. "Something wrong?" She teased.

"Shut up," she hissed back, biting her finger as she lowered her head, pretending to focus on paperwork.

The manager now stood face to face with the young man.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked, keeping his tone respectful.

The young man, Miles, exhaled. "Ha…" He shook his head. "Is this how you usually treat your customers?"

The manager blinked. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Miles calmly explained what had happened. The receptionist had judged him based on appearance, assumed he couldn't afford anything, and nearly caused an unnecessary scene.

Several attendants and witnesses confirmed his words.

The manager's jaw clenched. He understood the receptionist's skepticism, he truly did. But treating a customer this way, especially one with a black card, was unacceptable.

Worse still, if this situation blew up on social media, Imperial Tailors could take a massive hit to its reputation.

He took a breath. "Who treated you this way, sir?"

Miles simply raised his hand and pointed.

The entire crowd followed his gesture, and all eyes landed on the receptionist.

Her skin paled.

The manager nodded and immediately made his way toward her. She stiffened in her chair, gripping her pen tightly as if it were her lifeline.

"Is what he said true?" His voice was firm and demanding, indicating that he only wanted the truth.

Her mouth opened, but no words came.

She lowered her gaze, then gave a tiny nod which sealed her fate.

The manager's anger simmered beneath the surface. But before he could act—

A new presence entered the store.

The mall owner had arrived.

Accompanied by the mall manager and a security detail, she stepped inside with an aura that immediately silenced the entire building.

A woman in her late forties, she carried herself like she owned not just the mall, but the entire city.

She was dressed in a tailored designer suit, and had an unreadable expression as she exchanged brief pleasantries with the store owner.

Employees straightened instinctively when she walked by. The receptionists, including the one in trouble, bowed slightly, hoping to go unnoticed.

It seemed like she had no intention of lingering.

But then—

"Excuse me."

The words were calm but could be clearly heard, cutting through the air.

The mall owner stopped mid-step.

Her bodyguards immediately moved, prepared to remove the one who had spoken—

"STOP."

Her sharp command halted them instantly. Her eyes locked onto Miles.

She was visibly irritated by him calling to her like that, especially when she saw how he looked.

And then—she saw the black card in his hand. Her irritation faded, replaced by curiosity.

The store manager started to speak. "Madam, I can explai—"

"Silence." She simply said in response.

The manager clamped his mouth shut.

The mall owner stepped toward Miles, analyzing him with her gaze. She soon stopped a few steps from him, and put her hands in her pocket.

There was a long pause.

Then, she spoke. "That's quite the card you have there."

Miles glanced at it. "This? Just something I keep around."

They had a hushed conversation that no one seemed to hear for a short while, and then it happened.

She pointed at the receptionist. "Suspend her. Indefinitely." She said firmly.

The crowd gasped.

The receptionist turned ghostly pale.

The mall manager who came in with her, without hesitation, nodded. "Understood."

Miles remained silent, watching as the decision unfolded. It all happened so fast. Just moments ago, he had recounted the entire incident to the mall owner, how he was wrongfully accused, he gestured to the store manager who confirmed the truth with a nod, and how the receptionist had treated him unfairly without any evidence. And now, just like that, she was gone.

The mall owner turned back to him, scanning him once again with her sharp eyes .

"Now then," she said smoothly, shifting her tone. "I'd like to personally compensate you for this inconvenience."

Miles tilted his head, slightly surprised. "Oh? And what do you have in mind?"

A slow, deliberate smile spread across her lips.

She reached into her bag and pulled out something sleek and unmistakably valuable.

Another black card.

But this one was different.

Bold, golden letters were printed across the surface.

VIP.

The crowd gasped again.

Miles stared at the card, feeling his heart pound. This was no ordinary compensation. This was something big. But why?

The mall owner studied him again. As soon as she pulled out the card her expression shifted into something more…calculative.

"I must admit," she said, tapping a perfectly manicured finger against the VIP card, "I don't usually hand these out so easily."

Miles swallowed, suddenly feeling like he was under a microscope.

"I mean, it's not every day that a person spends thousands like it's pocket change… and then has an altercation over something so trivial. It makes me wonder—" her eyes closed slightly, "—just who exactly are you?"

The air around them grew heavy.

Miles hesitated. He couldn't just tell her the truth, he barely understood his situation himself. He needed to say something. Anything.

"I—I'm a…" His mind raced. "I'm a… businessman."

She raised a brow.

"A businessman?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, nodding. "I… dabble in investments. Y-you know, stocks, assets, things like that."

She didn't look entirely convinced.

For a moment, she just stared at him, as if weighing his words.

Then, she smiled.

"Interesting," she murmured. "You don't seem very confident for someone who handles investments."

Miles was still tense, but she chuckled, handing him the VIP card.

"Well, whatever the case, take this. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

His fingers closed around the card, and he exhaled, feeling a wave of relief.

"I really appreciate this," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you."

She nodded, about to continue speaking, but Miles raised a hand, politely stopping her.

"Actually," he said, turning back toward the store. "Before anything else, I'd like to pay for what I bought."

She blinked. "There's no need for that. I—"

"It's fine," Miles interrupted, shaking his head. "I insist."

Without waiting for a response, he walked back to the store, still a bit on edge. He approached the counter, looking at the items he had picked out. The total flashed on the screen.

'$3,850.'

Miles hesitated for a brief second, then swiped his card.

He received a notification from the system right after.

[Ding!]

[You have spent $3,850.]

[Ding!]

[You have received 10x rebate: $38,500.]

[Your balance is now: $10,038,171.]

His breath caught.

'It worked again.'

'It actually worked.'

His fingers twitched slightly as he stared at the receipt, his heart banging against his ribs.

'This system…'

'This insane system…'

If he spent money, he got ten times back.

His mind spun with the possibilities. If he planned this right… if he played his cards carefully…

He could get anything.

Anything.

A slow, almost disbelieving smile crept onto his face.

This wasn't just money.

This was a cheat code to life.

And now, all he had to do… was use it.