Born Into Villain's Family: I Have a 200\% Rebate System

Chapter 566: Future Self

"I might have helped them. Guided them. Even supported them in becoming an entrepreneur."

Her gaze locked onto his. "But you..."

There was a pause. "I hold a grudge against you."

The words hit him unexpectedly. "A grudge?"

Aurora’s lips curved faintly, though there was no warmth in her expression. "Do you remember your childhood?"

Miller’s brows furrowed. "You once had an admirer."

Her voice dropped slightly, slower now, deliberate. "And you stood there... watching... while she was beaten by a group of people."

The air seemed to freeze. "You did nothing."

Her eyes turned colder. "I hate people like that."

Each word felt like a blade. "So I decided to act accordingly."

With that, she leaned back, signaling the end of the conversation.

Miller stood there, stunned. ’That... that incident...?’

His mind raced, fragments of forgotten memories surfacing. The frightened Olivia. A chaotic scene. His own silence.

’I... I didn’t... I just...’

His throat felt dry. For the first time, something inside him cracked. ’How can I forget...’

A wave of guilt rose within him, heavy and suffocating. He clenched his fists, lowering his gaze. ’I let it happen... for nothing...’

The realization burned. Without another word, he turned and walked out.

Back in his apartment, the silence felt oppressive. He sat at his desk and began working. Proposal after proposal. Idea after idea.

At first, he believed in himself. ’I can do this... I’m not useless...’

But as days passed, his confidence began to crumble. Emails went unanswered. Messages were ignored.

Some replies came... Cold. Harsh. Dismissive.

"Stop sending nonsense."

"This looks like a scam."

"You’re wasting our time."

Each word felt like a slap. Some even blocked him outright.

Miller stared at his screen, his fingers trembling slightly. ’So this is... what it feels like...’

For the first time, he understood. ’Miss Dawn never insulted me... not once...’

A bitter smile appeared on his lips. ’I was the one who was blind...’

Regret settled deeper within him as time passed. Soon, his thoughts took a darker turn.

’If only... I could go back...’

The idea consumed him. ’If I had another chance... I would do everything right... I would build those ideas myself... I would save her... I would... be better...’

His breathing grew heavier. ’Olivia...’

The name lingered in his mind like an ache. ’I would find you... I would date you... I would marry you...’

The more he thought, the more desperate he became. And then... He found something. A shaman.

Someone who claimed to have the power to send a person back in time. ’Is this... real?’

Despite his doubts, hope flickered once again. When he contacted the shaman, the price was clear.

"Five hundred thousand dollars."

Miller hesitated. It was almost all the money he had left. Suspicion gnawed at him.

’This could be a scam...’

But then... ’If it works...’

His eyes hardened. "Fine."

He agreed. ’If I’m reborn... this amount will be nothing...’

He spent the next week preparing. Memorizing everything.

Stock market trends. Price fluctuations. Companies that would rise during crises.

He forced it all into his mind, repeating it again and again until it felt etched into his very soul.

’This is my advantage...’

Finally, he returned to the shaman. The old man looked at him and spoke slowly,

"It will take six months."

Miller nodded without hesitation. "I’ll wait."

And he did. For six long months.

He followed every instruction without question. When asked for more money, he gave it. When told to perform rituals at midnight, he obeyed.

When ordered to carry water across long distances, ten kilometers, sometimes twenty, he endured it.

His body ached, his muscles burned, his breath grew ragged... but he never stopped.

’I’m getting closer... I have to be...’

The shaman fed his hope carefully. Sometimes giving him cryptic texts to copy. Sometimes hinting that he was "almost ready."

And Miller believed it. He clung to it. Until... One day, the shaman disappeared.

Completely. Gone without a trace. Miller stood there, staring at the empty space, his mind refusing to process it.

’No... no... this isn’t...’

Reality hit him like a crushing blow. All his money... gone. All his time... wasted. Rage erupted within him.

He filed a complaint, his hands shaking with anger. ’How could I be so stupid...?’

A bitter laugh escaped him. "Reincarnation...?"

His voice echoed hollowly in the empty room. "If it were real... wouldn’t powerful people be fighting for it?"

He shook his head slowly. "I was just... a naive fool."

Now, he was almost broke. Exhausted. Empty. For a long time, he sat there in silence. Then, slowly, something shifted within him.

’No more...’

He took a deep breath, his shoulders lowering. ’If I can’t change the past... then I’ll change myself.’

There was no second chance waiting for him. No miracle. No shortcut. Only reality.

’At the very least... I won’t become someone I hate again...’

From that moment onward, Miller began to rebuild himself. His body. His knowledge. His discipline.

Step by step. Even if it was slow... Even if it was painful... He moved forward.

He began to pick up bits and pieces of knowledge about the stock market, at first out of curiosity, then slowly with genuine interest.

Numbers, charts, patterns, things that once felt distant and meaningless now started to make sense to him.

’So this is how money really moves...’

He started small, cautiously testing the waters. At times, his palms would grow sweaty as he clicked the "buy" button, his heartbeat quickening with every fluctuation on the screen.

Days turned into months, and months into years. Within five years, he had finally carved out a small success for himself.

A stable income of forty thousand dollars per month. For him, it was huge.

More than enough to live comfortably. But more importantly, it changed something inside him.

’Not every loss is bad...’

He had lost money before, quite a lot, in fact, but each loss had taught him something valuable.

Timing. Patience. Risk. ’Sometimes... you have to lose to understand.’

And because of that, he no longer blamed others. The bitterness he once carried had slowly faded.

Meanwhile, Eleanor and Mateo had decided to meet.

It had been a long time since they last saw each other.

The café was filled with the rich aroma of roasted coffee beans, the soft clinking of cups and low murmurs of conversations creating a calm atmosphere.

But the moment Mateo saw Eleanor...that calm shattered.

She looked thinner. Noticeably thinner.

Her face had lost some of its fullness, her collarbones more prominent beneath her clothes.

A faint ache stirred in his chest. "What happened?"

His voice carried a hint of concern, his brows knitting together. "Why have you become so thin again?"

Eleanor looked at him, her gaze cold, distant, as if he were a stranger. "Whatever you want to say..."

Her tone was flat, emotionless. "Say it quickly and leave."

She leaned back slightly, clearly uninterested. "I’m not in the mood to talk."

In truth, she didn’t even want to be here. ’If it wasn’t for that damned system...’

A faint chill ran down her spine at the thought. ’Who knows what it’ll do if I don’t listen...’

The moment she had arrived and seen Mateo’s haggard appearance, her irritation had only grown stronger. His tired eyes, his disheveled look, it all made her feel an inexplicable frustration.

Mateo let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Eleanor rolled her eyes, her lips curling slightly.

"Is this really how you talk now?" Mateo asked in surprise. "Where’s that refined and elegant Eleanor I used to know?"

Eleanor froze for a second, caught off guard. Then she laughed as if she had heard some kind of joke. "Refined? Elegant?"

She let out a soft, sarcastic laugh. "Those are luxuries for rich people."

Her eyes darkened slightly. "People who fall into poverty learn only one thing..."

She paused, her gaze sharp. "Survival."

The air between them grew tense. ’Theodore... Mateo...’

A flicker of disappointment crossed her mind. ’All the so-called heroes...’

She had already given up on them.

Mateo noticed her unwillingness to engage, yet he forced himself to speak. "I... went bankrupt."

The words came out heavier than he expected. For the first time, Eleanor’s expression shifted.

A faint hint of interest appeared in her eyes. Mateo caught that change and mistook it. ’She’s... concerned?’

Encouraged, he continued, "I never thought my family would end up like this."

Eleanor waved her hand impatiently. "Skip to the end."

Her tone was sharp. "How did you go bankrupt?"

Mateo hesitated briefly before speaking again. "I... received messages."

His voice lowered slightly. "From my future self."

Eleanor’s brows twitched, but she remained silent. "He told me what to invest in."

Mateo clenched his hands slightly. "At first... it worked."

A bitter smile appeared on his lips. "I made a lot of money."

His gaze dimmed. "So I got greedy."

The word felt heavy. "I invested more... and more..."