Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 161 – Miracles and Mayhem

[Very well. Would you like me to schedule a divine migraine or a passive-aggressive halo alarm for your arrival?]

”I’m already living the headache, thanks,” Lux muttered.

The suite’s lights dimmed on cue. The air freshened. Even the curtains adjusted slightly, letting in just enough city glow to cast dramatic shadows across the floor—because apparently the Sovereign Grand catered to emotional demons with theater issues.

He kicked off his boots. His jacket was half off when the system chirped again.

[Would you like to notify Celestaria that you’ll be arriving in the next 30 minutes?]

”Yeah,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head. ”Send her something polite. Straight to her private email address. Enough divine courtesy to keep her off my back, but not so much she thinks I’ve started kneeling.”

[Drafting message:

Subject: Upcoming Arrival

Message: Lady Celestaria,

Kindly prepare your brightest beams and thickest scrolls—I’ll be within striking distance soon. Consider this my formal RSVP to chaos.

Warmest regards,

Lux.]

”Perfect.”

[Sent.]

Lux made his way into the bathroom, pulling off the last of his clothes without ceremony. The mirror flickered to life and auto-adjusted his reflection.

The water hit him like forgiveness wrapped in steam.

Lux tilted his head back and exhaled. His muscles finally started to unclench. The sound of scalding water filled the marble chamber, echoing gently off the walls.

”Also,” he said, eyes still closed, ”give me the update on the Hell finance department today.”

[Which division, boss?]

”All of them,” he sighed. ”Also... my dad. Did he manage to negotiate with Lord Varakan or did someone’s head hit a table again?”

[Retrieving.]

The system paused. He could feel it sorting through billions of data threads, economic war room logs, and probably six different petty reports from minor demon lords.

[Update received. Displaying now.]

Twelve hologram screens shimmered into view around him—glowing blue and gold, each one hovering with independent gravity. They moved with him as he shifted under the spray of the shower, perfectly positioned in his periphery.

One screen showed the Department of Infernal Treasury: steady.

Another showed the Soul Credit Exchange: mild dip, no crash.

The third one—Lux focused—was labelled:

TERRITORY MAINTENANCE FUND REVIEW – WRATH REALM NEGOTIATION

”Play it,” he muttered.

[Now streaming live archive: Zavros x Varakan Negotiation, 18:42 HST (Hell Standard Time)]

The screen blinked. The visual cleared.

There was his father—Zavros Vaelthorn, Lord of Greed—seated at the obsidian end of a war-table. Regal, cold, composed. Wearing a shimmering green robe laced with contract glyphs and a face like someone just overcharged him for caviar.

Across from him sat Lord Varakan, Wrath incarnate, looking like a furnace in formalwear. His horns curled like molten iron, his teeth bared in something that could generously be called a smile.

The conversation was... civil.

Lux narrowed his eyes.

”Wait a second. Are they... getting along?”

[Confirmed.]

Zavros was calmly discussing long-term amortization tables.

Varakan was nodding.

Nodding.

Lux leaned his head against the shower wall, stunned.

”Wow. That’s either a miracle or someone slipped rage suppressants into the water.”

[Meeting concluded with 3.7% territorial fund increase, joint signature clause, and an invitation to next quarter’s Gala of Damnation.]

Lux blinked.

”I didn’t even know Varakan attended parties.”

[He doesn’t.]

”Noted.”

He turned slightly to look at the other charts.

[Soul Credit flow: steady with a mild drop in the last six hours.]

[Economic Confidence Index: holding.]

He frowned. ”Why the dip?”

[Infernal market destabilized slightly following public confirmation of your vacation.]

Lux stared at the graph.

It was subtle. But real.

The moment word got out that he—the one who’d kept the Vault Nexus balanced, the market rates pinned, the trust flows sane—was on a break?

The predators got loud.

He could practically hear the investment goblins cackling.

”Right,” he muttered. ”Because no one believes Zavros actually reads the reports.”

[Accurate.]

”But good news—everything’s still stable?”

[Your loyal underlings have mitigated 92% of projected fallout. Varon locked the West Soulline, Meli countered three market manipulations, and Drek took a blade to someone inside the Bank of Woe. We’ve categorized that as ’Discretionary Accounting Enforcement.’]

”Perfect.”

[Also... minor issue.]

Lux sighed. ”Of course.”

[A total of 146 attempted cyberattacks on the Hell Financial Cloud Archive have occurred in the last eight hours.]

He frowned. ”That’s... high.”

[Indeed.]

”Were they dumb?”

[Mostly. Though one attacker did nearly access the prime vault registry. Origin traced to a demon contractor named Slick Mordae. He has been ’removed.’]

Lux snorted.

”Good. Last thing I need is someone rerouting the wrath tax to fund a lava spa.”

[Would you like a detailed breakdown of your Vault Balance Report or just the highlights?]

”Highlights. I’m in the shower.”

[Total Soul Credit Holdings: Stable.]

[Projected Quarter Growth: -1.4% due to your absence, expected to recover.]

[Investor Trust Tier: Holding at ’Untouchable.’]

[Vault Threat Level: Yellow.]

[Most-Accessed Financial Protocol: Your emergency bailout algorithm.]

[Top Performing Asset: Irony Bonds.]

”Irony Bonds?”

[Yes. They profit every time a celestial tries to morally stabilize a cursed sector.]

Lux smiled for the first time in over an hour.

”Of course they do.”

He turned off the water. The room vented the steam. Towels unfolded from the wall.

He wrapped one around his waist.

”Queue the full recording of the Zavros-Varakan meeting. I want to watch it properly.”

[Done.]

The projection moved to the mirror as he stepped out.

He stood there for a second, watching his father drink from a gilded contract flask while Varakan signed a ledger with molten ink.

Lux narrowed his eyes.

”Huh... They didn’t stab each other. That’s progress.”

He leaned slightly against the sink, watching the screen with a squint like it personally owed him context.

”I mean, Zavros has been off the social grid for nearly two centuries and still somehow negotiated a clean clause with Wrath incarnate? Either someone drugged the boardroom water or we’re entering the apocalypse’s polite phase.”

[Would you like me to prepare a formal report?]

Lux smirked. ”Nah. Just flag it under: Unexpected Signs of Emotional Maturity.”

[Filed under Miracles and Mayhem.]