Grind-to-Cash System: Buy SSS Skills to Spam them Infinitely with Cash-Chapter 22 - A Grope for Hope

"Maira?"

Mirea's voice cracked as she sprinted up the creaking porch. Her braid flailed behind her, sweat already forming beneath her collar as her boot hit the door—

"Maira! I'm back!"

No answer.

Her fingers trembled as she pushed the door open.

What greeted her inside knocked the breath from her lungs.

The room was chaos.

Wood splinters. The herb shelf overturned. Her potion bottles crushed on the floor—green dust and flower petals scattered like ashes. The small bed in the corner—the one where her sister lay every day—was stripped bare.

The blanket... gone.

The pillow... flung aside.

And Maira... not there.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

"M-Maira—?!"

Her scream rang out as she darted inside, slipping over broken glass. Her hand caught the windowsill as her legs almost gave out. She stared wide-eyed at the wreckage.

Then bolted back outside.

"Did anyone see her?! Did anyone see my sister!?"

The street responded only with silence.

Heads turned—but not to meet her eyes. People looked down. Looked away. Pretended to be too busy to speak.

"She's sick! She can't even walk far! Someone must have seen something!!"

Still... nothing.

But then... Vex moved.

He stepped forward from the doorway, bare-chested, only the rugged pants clinging low on his hips. His body carried a natural dominance, not from aggression—but from the slow, sure way his muscles shifted with each step.

His abs were defined but not showy, laced with dried salt and sweat. His shoulders were broad, his golden eyes catching the sunlight like polished metal.

He scratched his neck as he approached a group of local women.

One of them—a brown-haired woman in her thirties—turned to face him.

And froze.

His presence hit her like a summer fever.

Gods.

He was... gorgeous.

Not pretty. Not handsome. Dangerous.

Raven hair tousled, eyes golden and deep, a smirk too tired to be smug. His pants hung low enough to show the V-lines of his lower abs. His voice was soft as he said, "Sorry to ask, miss... but did something happen here?"

The incubus blood stirred beneath his skin.

The effect was instant.

The woman's thighs subtly rubbed together.

Her palm smoothed over her skirt, fidgeting.

She swallowed. "I... I mean... I wasn't going to say anything, but—"

Asperia, still at the door, noticed it too.

The woman's shifting stance. Her tilted hips. Her breathier voice. It made her brow furrow ever so slightly.

She crossed her arms, watching the woman's lips part and close uselessly as she stared at Vex's torso.

Asperia stepped closer—not possessive. Just visibly there.

The woman blinked rapidly, flustered.

"They took her," she said finally. "The men from... the Vance family. From Lerin's estate."

Mirea's breath caught.

She stormed forward, grabbing the woman's forearm. "Who took her?! Where did they go?!"

The woman blinked again, struggling to keep focus. "...T-to the slave market," she whispered. "Just before midday. I saw the cart."

Mirea recoiled.

Her knees buckled slightly.

The words felt like daggers in her gut.

"Slave... market?"

"She fought," the woman said. "But she was too weak. They bound her... said even the sick can fetch a price."

Mirea didn't even speak.

She ran.

Down the lane. Sand and dust kicked into the air. Her voice cracked as she screamed:

"MAIRA!!!"

---

The house was silent again.

Glass crunched beneath Asperia's boots as she stepped inside, arms still folded. Her green eyes took in every inch of the destruction. The crushed bottles. The torn linen. The empty bed.

There was something stale in the air—like breath held too long. A coldness only broken places had.

Vex stood near the center of the room, shoulders relaxed, gaze low.

"She's going alone," he muttered, glancing toward the doorway where Mirea had disappeared.

"She's going to die," Asperia replied flatly.

Her voice lacked emotion, but the weight of it hung in the room.

Vex scratched the side of his neck, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "So what do you say?"

Asperia's jaw tightened.

She didn't speak.

He exhaled through his nose. "I'm not a hero."

No edge in his tone. No pride. Just a quiet admission.

They both knew it. This wasn't their war. They didn't owe anything. Helping Mirea meant exposure. It meant risk.

The slave market wasn't a place for people like them—people running from things. Or hiding what they were.

He turned slightly, gaze drifting toward the window.

"We don't have time."

A beat passed.

Then—

"...Can you save her?" Asperia asked.

Vex turned to her fully.

His eyes trailed down her figure—not lecherously, just... noticing.

The shirt she wore still clung to her from earlier, the fabric molded to her chest, dried into shape by seawater and sun.

The coat tied around her waist hugged her hips, creating a soft hourglass that moved even when she stood still.

He raised a brow.

"What'll I get?"

She answered quickly. "Food. A place to stay. Clothes, maybe."

He tilted his head.

His stomach answered first—growling faintly. A bed. Warmth. Safety. That was enough for anyone.

But he still hesitated.

And then... he smirked.

Without shame, he pointed lazily toward her chest—his finger drifting in the air, not even pretending to be subtle.

"...Can I press one of your boobs?"

Silence.

Asperia's eyes twitched.

Then her temple.

Then... her whole fist.

A bulge formed on her knuckles, whitening as her fingers curled tight, the air between them heating like an approaching storm.

Vex noticed the incoming punch forming and leaned away half a step, still unbothered.

"Alright, alright—fine," he sighed. "I'll just ask Mirea when I catch up. She'll probably say yes. You know... as thanks."

He turned smoothly, ready to walk out.

Then stopped.

Because her voice came low. Clipped. Controlled.

"...Wait."

He paused mid-step.

His brow rose slightly, amused.

She stared past him—at the wall. Anywhere but his eyes.

Her lips pressed together.

Then parted.

"Fine," she muttered, face twisting like she was swallowing her pride whole. "You can do that."

Vex blinked. "Wait. Seriously?"

"I said keep it," she snapped. "I mean—yes. You can touch me. Just..." Her words slowed, then picked up again. "Don't go around molesting random women, you idiot."

He grinned.

Wide.

"See? That wasn't so hard."

And without another word, he bolted through the door, boots thudding against gravel as he sprinted after Mirea.

Asperia glared after him, her jaw tight, coat flaring slightly from the sudden breeze.

"...Idiot," she muttered again with frustration and anger... but something was different and confusing for her.

Her cheeks were unmistakably flushed due to the realization of what she had just said.

And her hand—still half-curled into a fist—had... quietly relaxed.