Oliver was already helping Dorothy pack up the office for the day.
She was an old widow trying to make ends meet with no family to rely on, and if anyone deserved a hand, it was her. She offered him a kind, tired smile as he wiped down the dusty window sills.
Then came the usual screech.
"OLIVEEEEER!"
Oliver closed his eyes, sighed, and muttered—
"Sir…?"
Mr. Dawson stomped out of his office with a crumpled sheet of paper in hand, his face red like a man about to blow a fuse. He squinted at the report, then at Oliver, then back at the paper.
"Hrmm… according to your report, you didn't find a single marketable hero. So what now? What's the plan? Or do you want to lose this wonderful job?!"
Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose.
"No, sir. I'll run an online ad. Out of my own pocket. I'll draw in more heroes for the next tryouts."
Dawson scoffed hard enough to rattle the office blinds.
"Of course you'll use your own money! You think I'm funding a crappy recruiter like you? HAH!"
He turned to walk out, muttering as he went—
"Also, I'm taking whatever you made from that little stream you did. Don't think I didn't notice."
Oliver's head snapped up. "But that's my money!"
Dawson just laughed without looking back.
"And I'm in charge. Get used to it."
Oliver gritted his teeth, fists clenching so tight his knuckles popped.
The injustice stung like a blade under the ribs.
But before he could say anything more—
The front doors opened with a loud creak.
A tall, blonde woman stepped in, followed by three men in dark suits.
The mood in the room shifted instantly.
Like the oxygen had been replaced with something much heavier.
Dorothy paused mid-mop, blinking at the new arrivals.
Even Dawson, who had just been barking orders like a tyrant, stiffened as his self-importance drained from his face.
Oliver's eyes narrowed.
The woman walked in with her sexy, long legs gliding across the scuffed linoleum floor.
Mmm~
She adjusted her oversized sunglasses and spoke.
"Pardon us for the intrusion. It seems you're closing for the day. I hope we're not imposing—my apologies…"
Her voice was smoother than melted chocolate.
Mr. Dawson didn't say a word.
Didn't even look at her.
He just kept his eyes on the floor, as if the tile had suddenly become the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.
Penelope Vandenberg.
One of the top strategists at Platinum Talent Agency—a global juggernaut in the hero industry, and one of the most powerful players in the United States.
And also a corporate beauty.
She turned to Oliver, flashing a smile that would melt hearts if it didn't hide fangs.
"Hello~"
She purred, taking off her shades as she approached.
"Good to see you again…"
Penelope took off her shades and leaned in, causing her large breasts to bounce slightly, as if they were heavier than they should be. As she moved closer, her chest became even more noticeable—especially since she had unbuttoned part of her shirt, letting bits of her bra peek out and making her cleavage stand out clearly.
"Do you remember me?"
She asked with a voice built for seduction.
Oliver's face didn't change. Arms folded, jaw locked.
"Can I help you?"
His voice was cold.
Like he'd never seen her before in his life.
Penelope blinked, taken slightly aback.
That wasn't the reaction she was used to.
She tilted her head, but her smile didn't crack.
"I believe we spoke just a few days ago…? I told—"
"If you have a complaint about our services…"
Oliver cut her short as his eyes narrowed.
"… or wish to recommend a hero talent, our receptionist will be available tomorrow. We're closed."
Penelope waved her hand delicately, shades swinging from her fingers like a dancer's ribbon.
"Oh no~ I'm here to further discuss THAT plan. And I'd be more than happy to go over it again—"
She placed a glossy photo on the desk.
A gleaming building in the heart of the city.
Platinum's proposed new branch in Liberty City.
"I'd love to bring a more… representable arm of Platinum Talent Agency here. It would really—!"
CRUNCH.
Oliver snatched the paper and crushed it into a tight ball.
"Yeah. Not interested."
He tossed it into the trash without even looking.
Penelope blinked slowly.
Oliver spoke again, a smug smile curling his lips.
"You want to drive us out. Fire everyone here. Replace us with talented individuals. It's not the first time a big name tried to swallow JusticeFindr whole."
He held out his hand in that infuriating "as you can see" way, gave a smug smile, and said—
"Come on, go back to your fancy penthouse. We're not planning to give up this branch unless everything goes through the proper procedures, alright?"
Penelope's smirk twitched.
She closed her eyes, composed.
"Very well…"
She slid a golden business card onto the desk and traced her lip with a perfectly manicured nail.
"I like you, so I'll give you one day. Just one. Before I take the highroad."
She turned to Dawson with a sideways glance.
"I hear it's been… difficult lately. For one-star agencies. Even D-ranks are struggling to get paid."
She laughed, soft and cruel.
Oliver didn't flinch. "That's not the case here."
She raised a brow. "Oh? Isn't it?"
Oliver stared her down.
"At JusticeFindr, we take care of our heroes. D-rank or not. Their sponsorships go through, their pay is on time, and they get the support they deserve."
Penelope giggled. An innocent, girlish sound.
Then her face shifted.
Her lips curled into something more devilish.
But it was oddly sexy.
"And if JusticeFindr can't give them what they want?"
She asked, voice low, hot, charmingly breathless.
"What then?"
She leaned in so close he could feel the warmth of her body.
Oliver didn't blink.
Instead, he calmly pulled out a latex glove, slipped it on, and picked up the gold card without touching it.
"If that ever happens…"
He said smoothly with a half-eyed smile.
"… then we'll close this branch ourselves and hand it over to Platinum. Gracefully."
He dropped the card into the trash.
Penelope stared at him for a long moment.
Then she slowly slipped her sunglasses back on.
"Very well… I'll be back."
And with that, she turned on her heel as her men in black followed silently behind her.
Outside, one of them spoke.
"Ms. Vandenberg, you're just going to let him walk away like that? The board—"
"The board gives orders…"
Penelope said, lifting a hand to her chin.
"But I handle execution. We still have procedures to follow… we wouldn't want a lawsuit, would we?"
She smiled sweetly, wickedly.
"Don't worry… I'll make a phone call."
･･･
About thirty minutes later, Oliver was waving goodbye to Dorothy, who still had her mop in hand.
"Sorry I can't help clean the rest. I've got a surprise for my girl, and I really need to go show her!"
Dorothy chuckled softly and gave him a tired nod.
"I hope it goes well, dear."
He nodded once, then hopped onto his old bicycle and pedaled off into the evening sun.
The wind brushed through his hair as he laughed.
『That Penelope woman is a real nightmare. She's quickly becoming one of the top hero recruiters in the States and on top of that, she's the one who discovered Royal—the hero currently ranked 12th in the country.』
Even Dawson, that greedy snake, had wilted like wet tissue in her presence.
But none of it mattered.
Not now.
Oliver tightened his grip on the handlebars and made a sharp turn.
『I'm not going to let them destroy JusticeFindr!』
And once he became one of the biggest hero recruiters in the world…
He'd buy Anna a car.
He burst out laughing.
『I can just imagine the smile on her face!』
･･･
Oliver finally reached his street.
He had a box of chocolates tucked under his arm.
Just a small gift, nothing special, but he'd picked it carefully, standing in the store longer than he should've.
It wasn't even Valentine's or her birthday.
He just wanted to make Anna smile after a long week.
He slowed his bike near the front of the apartment building and noticed something odd—a sleek black Mercedes Maybach S-Class parked like royalty outside the gate.
And right beside it… Anna.
Her hair was tied back, her dress casual but clean.
But what really made Oliver's breath pause was the man standing in front of her.
Tailored suit. Sculpted face. Shinning Rolex.
He pulled slightly closer, parking his bike behind a street pole, half hidden by the leaves of a tree.
He tilted his head.
Eavesdropping wasn't his thing, but something felt… off.
"Come on already…"
The man said with an annoyingly perfect smile.
"Can you just leave that broke guy and stay with me? It's really pitiful seeing him spend all of his peanuts trying to keep you around. What's his name again?"
Anna shifted uncomfortably.
Her smile didn't reach her eyes as she looked away and shamefully mumbled—
"His name's… Oliver."
Justin Carpens. That was the name.
Oliver recognized him now.
A fast-rising star in the hero recruitment world.
The guy every agency wanted, the guy who got offered signing bonuses in yachts and stock shares.
Justin laughed cruelly.
"Oliver? Like that poor orphan rat from that old novel, uhh what's it called again? Oliver Twist?"
He theatrically slapped his palm on the hood of his own car, chuckling.
"From now on, that's what I'll call beggars. 'Look at that Oliver Twist over there!' HAH!"
Anna's face scrunched up in annoyance.
She looked down at her feet and muttered—
"Can you not talk like that? I didn't make it clear, but Oliver's done a lot for me. He even helped with Mom's surgery when we couldn't afford it."
She pressed her lips into a thin line.
"He's… he's tried."
"Tried?"
Justin scoffed, stepping closer and gently brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
"Tried with what? His pocket change?"
He shook his head dramatically.
"I could sell the Camaro Starfall gave me and cover your mom's bills twice over and still have change for a weekend in Santorini."
She didn't answer.
"I mean, look at your skin!"
Justin went on in that always dramatic tone.
"It's drying up in this dump. A few weeks in Dubai, a proper skincare regimen, some sunlight—boom, back to model-tier. But no, you're here wasting away with a guy who can't even afford proper lotion. Come on, Anna."
And then, like a magician producing treasure, he revealed a pristine white box.
"Got you something from my last Dubai trip."
Anna blinked.
Her expression—guilt, doubt, and hesitation—melted away the second she opened it.
Perfume. Expensive. Fragrant enough to scent the air even from Oliver's hiding spot.
And then, to top it off, a thick bundle of cash.
Justin handed it to her like it was a napkin.
Oliver's heart dropped to his stomach.
He saw the way Anna's eyes sparkled.
The smile she gave Justin was so bright.
It made Oliver genuinely sick.
It made him painfully wonder if he'd ever seen her smile like that before.
The chocolates in his hands suddenly felt heavy.
THUD!
The box hit the ground.
･･･
Less than an hour later…
He was sitting on an old trash can behind the building.
Rain poured from above like judgment from the heavens.
He was soaked, frozen, but motionless.
His eyes were empty. Dead.
He knew.
He always knew he wasn't enough for her.
They talked about it so many nights.
She said they'd "make it out together" that she didn't care about the money, only the love.
He clenched his fists as veins popped from his skin.
"Women… are horrible liars, aren't they?"
A crack of thunder rolled overhead.
KRAA—KOOOOOM!!
The rain intensified.
Pedestrians sprinted for shelter.
Drivers cursed the storm.
But Oliver didn't move.
The water rolled down his cheeks like tears he was too stubborn to shed.
His lips trembled, but not from the cold.
He looked up to the sky.
"I thought it was only in the movies. But rain always picks the worst days to show its ugly face…"
Just then, a familiar engine purred down the street.
Justin's Maybach cruised slowly toward the trash area.
The tinted window rolled down.
"Hey, bro…"
Justin called lazily.
"You the security or sum? Where do I throw this?"
He dangled a greasy plastic bag full of leftover takeout.
Oliver didn't answer.
Justin narrowed his eyes.
"Tch."
He threw the bag at Oliver's chest.
"Do your job, dickwad."
The car roared off.
Still nothing.
Oliver just sat there.
Garbage on his lap. Rain dripping from his jaw.
No hope in his eyes.
Then—
BZZZT.
His phone buzzed violently in his pocket.
[Ding! You've unlocked the Harem Talent System!]
[Welcome, Oliver Grant. You've been betrayed and spat on because everyone sees you as the most worthless hero recruiter out there! With the System, you can become the fiercest talent hunter as you win the hearts and bodies of beautiful superheroines!]
[Now initializing Harem Talent System…]
But even now—there was no reaction.
His eyes stared into nothing.
『Fuck you, Anna…』