My Borderline Supervillain-Slash-Hero System
Chapter 92 Slapping Back— Action’s Speak Volumes

Chapter 92: Chapter 92 Slapping Back— Action’s Speak Volumes

By the time Erlin finished savoring her cake, both Zane and Shelby had also wrapped up their feast.

The table was now a battlefield — piled high with small mountains of bones.

"Zavier, your food is always a luxury," Shelby said, rising from his seat. "We’ve spent enough time here. Where’s our bill?"

Chef Zavier beamed, smiling from ear to ear at the praise.

"Consider this one on the house," he said.

The hall fell into an uproar of silent chaos. Patrons, still chewing their expensive meals, had wild thoughts racing through their minds.

We paid a fortune for this meal, and those bums walk in, devour half the kitchen, and leave without paying a single coin?

Where’s the justice?

Who the hell are they to get such privileges?!

Shelby, of course, didn’t give a damn about their displeasure.

But he did shoot a sharp glare at Zavier. "You might know me, Chef, but clearly you don’t know me well."

He slammed his hand down on the table. "I don’t like freebies. I pay for what I eat."

Zavier opened his mouth to argue, but the intensity of Shelby’s gaze made him reconsider. With a silent nod, he gestured to his staff to bring the bill.

A chef dashed over within minutes, handing Zavier a long receipt.

Before Zavier could even read it, Shelby snatched it from his hand and scanned the final amount.

"647,567 Artemis Dollars — after tax," he read aloud.

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room.

"No wonder... they ate a lot."

"How are they going to pay for all that?"

"The chef was being generous, and they still demanded a bill? Arrogant bastards..."

At this point, Erlin couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

"Chef Zavier," she said calmly, "can I pay in beast mana cores instead?"

Zavier’s smile widened. "Even better."

Erlin raised an eyebrow. "How much would that be, in core stones? Actually... I’m new to this city. Can you explain the value of mana stones compared to Artemis Dollars?"

Zane perked up as well — this was news to him, too.

Zavier responded patiently, "Of course, ma’am. The market value of beast mana cores is quite high these days. Roughly speaking:

A One-Star Core Stone is worth about 1,000 Artemis Dollars.

A Two-Star Core equals approximately 100,000 Artemis Dollars.

A Three-Star Core is worth around 1 million Artemis Dollars.

And a Four-Star Core can go up to 100 million Artemis Dollars."

Erlin leaned in, curious. "What about a Five-Star Core or anything higher?"

Her casual question made the entire hall go quiet. Whispers followed.

"Did she say Five-Star?"

"Does she even know how rare that is?"

"She must be showing off..."

Zavier’s expression turned serious. "A Five-Star Stone is extremely rare — its estimated value is around 1 trillion Artemis Dollars. As for anything beyond that... No higher-tier core has ever been made public."

Zane suddenly froze.

His expression shifted as realization struck him like lightning.

Wait a second...

Not long ago, he had spent ten Five-Star Core Stones to rent for one time to learn and practice that special technique — Introduction to Godly Hands of Mana.

He quickly did the math in his head. His lips moved unconsciously.

"I spent... ten trillion Artemis Dollars to learn a single law?"

He inhaled sharply and whispered under his breath, "But... it was still worth it."

No one around him had any idea what kind of internal meltdown Zane was going through.

Erlin glanced at him and said, "Lend me your pouch for a minute."

Zane handed over the silk pouch. Here we go, he thought, the princess moment is here.

Erlin reached inside and pulled out three glimmering stones.

"These are Three-Star Core Stones. Each worth a million Ar Dollars, right?" She placed all three into Chef Zavier’s trembling hands.

"Ma’am, one stone is already more than enough to cover the entire bill," he stammered, trying to hand two back.

"Keep them," she replied coolly. "One stone’s a tip for your service. The second is for standing up for us. The leftover from the first can be split among your staff—consider it their tips."

"Thanks for the cake, Zavier. We’ll visit your kitchen again in the future."

Then, turning to Shelby and Zane, she barked, "Get your asses up. We’re leaving."

The onlookers were stunned. The tips were outrageously overpaid. Even among the upper class, such generosity was rare.

To many, it felt like a slap in the face.

They stared at the trio, wondering—who the hell are these people?

But the chefs and staff felt differently. Some had been skeptical earlier, annoyed that Zavier was letting the bill slide. Now, their opinions have shifted. Warmth replaced suspicion. Respect bloomed in their eyes.

Chef Zavier himself was speechless, but a quiet smile tugged at his lips.

As the trio stood, Zane joked, "Shel, we just spent a fortune here. Are we leaving all that behind?" He pointed at the enormous pile of bones on their table.

It was meant to be a joke.

But Shelby snapped his fingers. "Right. I almost forgot."

He snatched the pouch from Erlin, reached in, and pulled out a small plastic bucket—like one used for popcorn—and handed it to her.

Erlin beamed. She loved bone marrow paste, even though she had no idea how it was made.

She dipped her fingers into the thick paste and licked them clean with delight.

Meanwhile, Shelby turned to Zane and said, "Boy, why are you standing there? Come help me."

Together, they walked over and began stuffing the leftover bones into the pouch.

Gasps echoed across the hall.

Everyone stared, shocked.

Everyone except Chef Zavier. He knew exactly what they were doing. After all, he was the one who had taught Shelby how to make the bone marrow paste in the first place.

Zane and Shelby didn’t care about the reactions. But Erlin quickly stepped away from them, pretending not to know them.

After stuffing the last bone, the trio casually walked out of the mess hall.

The moment the door closed behind them, the entire room erupted.

This time it wasn’t just the customers—it was even the chefs.

Zavier smiled wryly and let them chatter. He didn’t bother to explain anything.