Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 678: Too Unpredictable

Chapter 678 – Too Unpredictable

"All his assets," Lux said smoothly, "are now mine to manage. Since he’s... with me."

[System Notice: Asset Transfer Confirmed — Zehar the Abyssborn is now bound under [Greed-Code: Custodial Sovereignty]]

The sigils flared, bright golden lines carved in demonic shorthand, flickering across Zehar’s semi-translucent surface like a corporate branding iron had kissed his core.

Zehar let out a furious PU! His form bubbled. Shimmered. Warbled like boiling cursed jello.

Lux’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened. "Relax. It’s not like I’m going to destroy you or your empire. Think of it like... storing your power in a vault. And that vault?"

He tapped his own chest with a single finger.

"Is me."

The slime vibrated violently, rippling with suppressed rage.

Corvus squawked, lifting both wings. "Uh, boss, he’s shaking like he wants to explode."

"He can’t," Lux said dryly. "The moment he tries, those sigils will snap his soul like a discount bond during a market crash."

"Lovely," the bird muttered. "Very CFO of you."

Lux crouched slightly so he was eye level with the jiggling rage blob. "Don’t be mad at me. You’re the one who tried to strong-arm me into paying Zoltarin’s debt. Which is hilarious, considering I never even knew his existence until recently."

Zehar made a noise that sounded like gargling lava through a straw.

Lux straightened up and brushed off his shirt. "For now, I’ll let you rest. You clearly need it. But—" His voice dropped an octave, silky cold. "My order?"

The mansion air went still. Even Corvus stopped mid-preen.

"I need you to talk. Or at least pick a form that can talk. I don’t care if it’s a mouth with legs or a sexy butler outfit with eyes on the chest. But I need conversation. Real answers."

Zehar quivered, slower now. Listening.

"I want to know why," Lux said, the smirk gone now. "Why you came for me. Why the debt. Why you’re so damn angry. Is this personal? Did Zoltarin screw you over and you think I’m the next best punching bag? Or is this just some ancient debt inheritance crap, as you mentioned to me?"

Zehar didn’t respond. He wobbled, sulking.

"I know you will need more time since I just cracked your core. So for the time being..."Lux let out a soft breath. "You can roam around the mansion. Explore. Eat soap. I don’t care." His tone turned razor-sharp. "But if you touch my girls, or my servants? Pick a fight? Try anything shady?"

His eyes burned.

"I’ll destroy your core."

The threat wasn’t loud. Wasn’t dramatic. It was calm. Matter-of-fact. That kind of certainty that didn’t need theatrics.

Zehar pulsed once, defeated, and slid off the counter with a wet plop. He oozed toward the nearest velvet couch, pulled himself up like a depressed pudding, and flopped face-down. Or what Lux assumed was face-down.

Corvus watched him go, unimpressed. "Blob’s got attitude but no legs. Doesn’t seem like much of an apocalypse threat now, huh."

Lux’s gaze followed Zehar. "Not yet."

Corvus ruffled his feathers and cocked his head. "Then why keep him around?"

Lux leaned back against the counter, arms folded. "Because he found me, Corvus. Not just my house. Me. Through layers of magical obfuscation, sealed portals, the cloaking enchantments, and about four layers of infernal VPN. That kind of detection is not supposed to be possible, especially not by some halfway-recovering eldritch remnant."

Corvus blinked. "You think someone helped him?"

Lux stared into his now-empty mug. "Or something triggered him. Something that bypassed his sealed nature. A beacon. A whisper. Maybe even a signal from the vault Zoltarin left behind."

"You think the old greed tower reacted?"

"I think..." Lux muttered, tilting his head thoughtfully, "he wasn’t supposed to find me this fast. Something accelerated it."

Corvus flapped once, landing on the back of a nearby chair. "And you’re planning to do what with that theory? Interrogate the goo until he spills secrets?"

Lux cracked a dry smile. "If necessary."

Corvus paused. "Want me to peck him?"

"No." Lux walked past the couch, pausing only to glance down at the softly bubbling, grumpy Zehar. "Not yet."

Zehar puffed slightly in warning.

"Get some rest, little doom bubble," Lux said under his breath. "We’re not done."

Then, without another word, he walked toward the hall. Corvus followed, gliding silently beside him.

Their footsteps, well, one set of steps and one soft wingbeat, echoed across polished obsidian tile, the kind that glowed faintly with infernal runes when mana shifted nearby.

Corvus tilted his head as they passed the first arch. "You gonna tell me what’s eating you, boss? Or do I have to guess and send a sympathy card?"

Lux exhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving the far end of the corridor.

"Sira told me this morning," he said at last, voice low. "Before the overlord. Before the panic. She told me what she sensed moving behind the scenes. The whispers. The shifting."

Corvus narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess. About Zoltarin?"

Lux nodded once. "About the fact the old demons know I killed him."

They stopped. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"I didn’t just kill a demon," Lux continued. "I killed an old prince of Greed. A former heir. A sleeping relic."

He glanced down, bitter amusement touching the edge of his lips.

"An ancient shareholder of Hell’s oldest family fund."

Corvus let out a long, low whistle. "And now you’re what? The kid who stabbed his uncle during a board meeting?"

Lux smirked faintly. "More like... the intern who found the CEO’s vault and refused to hand it over."

Corvus settled on a wall sconce, wings tucked, his usual sarcasm taking a backseat. "They see you as a threat."

"A mutation," Lux corrected. "An anomaly. A young prince of Greed who didn’t inherit the vault the traditional way. Who didn’t sign with the elders. Didn’t bow. Didn’t beg."

He turned, eyes glittering like molten coin.

"I just took it."

Silence stretched between them.

Lux chuckled softly. "If I hadn’t killed Zoltarin, he would’ve killed me."

Lux looked toward a window, the distant skyline of the mortal realm. The skyscrapers beyond shimmered like fragile ambitions under early sunlight.

"But now that he’s gone," he continued, "they think I’m too powerful. Or too unpredictable."