Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 629: Money Green

Chapter 629 – Money Green

He didn’t need applause. Didn’t want praise. The charts spoke louder than any headline. His name was already back in the stock forums, flashing green on Hell’s hottest asset index.

The cameras powered down. The screens dimmed. The staff scrambled to clear the room, still half in disbelief. But Lux didn’t linger.

He left the conference room with nothing but the same half-smirk on his face, and the satisfaction of a prince who’d just reminded the world why he was the one holding the coin.

But duty didn’t end with a speech.

He still had to go back upstairs.

Back to the real work.

So he did.

Main office. Same scent of over-brewed infernal espresso lingering in the air. Same cursed chair he used to sit in every day before his life turned into a sex-drenched, enemy-infested game of inter-realm finance.

Zavros had passed out on the couch. Maybe he felt relieved that Lux was here.

Lux didn’t wake him. Just walked around quietly, checking terminals, flicking through market reports, setting flags on contracts that would need renegotiation. Left little glowing notes on the screens. Reminders. Suggestions. Projections.

[Priority Contract: Shift Warlord Alliance Terms to 89:11 ratio]

[Note to Zavros: Restructuring the Vault Fee tier next week.]

[Also, seriously. Less coffee. I think the air in here is 23% caffeine.]

He didn’t even sit. Just moved through the room with that quiet, controlled energy. Efficient. Sharp. Cold in the way only a son of Greed could be.

And then, finally, he left.

[Location Transfer – Mortal Realm]

The elevator ride felt... heavier than usual.

Maybe because the silence didn’t hum with system alerts anymore.

Maybe because, for once, he wasn’t running the numbers in his head.

Well. Not those numbers.

Because yeah, even inside that obsidian elevator slowly climbing toward the mortal realm, Lux was still working.

He opened his system, fingers sliding over the interface. Celestial seal codes shimmered across his vision as the formal reply template unspooled. Even the fonts looked extra judgmental today. Divine bureaucracy always liked their golden serif lettering.

He inhaled, then began typing, voice low and casual as if narrating for a boardroom drama.

"To the High Court of the Celestial Realm," he murmured, "please accept my apology for the delayed response. Due to... circumstances, I was unable to reply in proper time. I assure you I am alive, well, and fully operational. Current trade terms remain stable. Pending discussions shall resume at earliest convenience."

He paused. Fingers hovering.

Then smirked. "P.S. No, I am not staging a hostile buyout. But thank you for the vote of fear."

Before he could hit send, the interface flickered slightly, pulsing with a cool green glow.

[It’s rare to see you type your own reply, sir.]

Lux’s eyebrow twitched. "Yeah, well... I’ve been gone for a week. Figured the least I could do was type one formal message myself. Diplomacy and all."

He huffed, leaning back against the obsidian elevator wall, wings relaxed.

"And now you speak," he added, side-eyeing the holographic system cursor. "Where were you when I was tied up to a bed getting force-fed fruit and rubbed down by four girls at once, huh? You didn’t even let me work."

[Your neural pathways were damaged, sir. The initial nervous disruption following your absorption of Zoltarin’s core created internal overload. I had to enter defensive freeze mode to prevent further instability.]

Lux blinked. "Wait... what?"

[The fusion between your original core and Zoltarin’s resulted in a temporary network collapse. It affected your cognition and me. Your consumption of his Greed Core updated me automatically.]

"You got an update?"

[Yes, sir. Power scaling, memory cache expansion, and access to deeper lineage functions. Including your True Form Transformation Protocol. You may have forgotten that feature.]

"...True form. Right," Lux muttered.

He sighed. "Anyway... just finish the reply first."

[Reply sent. Timestamp synchronized with celestial server. Message sealed with Code Omega Clearance.]

Just like that.

Sent.

Calm returned.

To the markets.

To the tower.

To the public.

But not to him.

Because Lux knew.

This wasn’t over.

Because when he vanished... certain factions got bold. Too bold.

Warlords moved faster. Syndicates tested the edges of their contracts. A few regional partners defaulted early, on purpose, just to see who’d notice.

And he did.

Oh, he noticed.

Lux had a list now.

Not of enemies.

Enemies were obvious. Manageable.

No, these were liabilities. People who smiled to his face and twisted the clause the moment they thought his back was turned.

Backstabbers. Weak links.

And Lux Vaelthorn hated weak links.

He didn’t like backstabbers.

He preferred to... replace them.

With people he could trust. Or at least control.

Business was business.

And control made the business go smoothly.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the mortal realm.

Once the doors opened, he was in his room.

He walked through the final archway and finally let himself exhale.

The moment he reached the edge of the master suite, he dropped the blazer. Kicked off his boots. Shirt already half-off. No ceremony.

The bed called.

Soft. Cool. Sheets still scented like Ely’s favorite laundry scent, wildflower and something sweet.

He hit the mattress like a man shot through with peace.

Didn’t even cover himself.

Still very much a poster boy for demon PR nightmares.

He didn’t care. He just went to sleep.

The sheets welcomed him. Cool, soft. His body melted into the mattress like he’d been carved for it. The pillow absorbed the last coherent thoughts he had for the night, which were something along the lines of ’market’s fine, bounty’s dead, f*ck the noise.’

Lux slept.

Hard.

And when the next morning came...

He didn’t even want to wake up.

But he did.

Because he was Lux Vaelthorn, Infernal Department Executive... and apparently, cursed with internal alarms that refused to let him sleep past 07:00 AM.

[Good morning, sir. You are still alive.]

[Current time – 06:07]

[You are currently not tied to the bed. Status: Considered a miracle.]

"Mmmhh... shut up," he groaned, voice muffled into the pillow.