Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Meanwhile in Hell’s palace.

”I don’t like this,” he stated.

King Kaelmor lounged upon his obsidian throne, one leg crossed over the other, fingers drumming lightly against the armrest in a rhythm that was far too cheerful for the thoughts currently occupying his mind.

The grand hall stretched endlessly before him, pillars carved from black crystal, chandeliers of molten gold, and an eerie silence that only amplified his irritation.

He smiled.

A wide, pleasant, utterly insincere smile.

”Oh, I really don’t like this.”

Lux Vaelthorn.

What a fascinating little demon.

Kaelmor tilted his head, crimson eyes gleaming with amusement and annoyance in equal measure. He admired Lux, truly, he did. The boy was brilliant. Efficient. Elegant in the way he maneuvered politics and power. In many ways, Lux was everything Kaelmor wished his own Sin Lords had been.

Better than Zavros, certainly.

Zavros had been predictable. Manageable. A creature of greed but lacking vision.

Lux, however?

Lux had vision.

And that was precisely the problem.

Because vision attracted attention.

Influence.

Loyalty.

And worst of all… admiration.

Kaelmor’s smile twitched ever so slightly.

”The King of Hell,” he mused aloud, voice smooth and melodic, ”being overshadowed by his own accountant. How… embarrassing.”

He rose from the throne, hands clasped behind his back as he began to pace leisurely across the polished floor. Each step echoed softly, measured, controlled, like a predator enjoying the anticipation of a hunt.

Lux had enemies, yes. Many of them. Power always bred resentment.

But Lux also had something far more dangerous.

Friends.

Allies.

Debtors.

Admirers.

A network so vast and intricate that removing him outright would send ripples through every corner of Hell, and even beyond it. Trade agreements, celestial contracts, inter-realm stability… all of it tethered, in some way, to Lux’s existence.

And that gave Kaelmor a headache.

A delightful one, but a headache nonetheless.

”So,” he hummed, stopping before a massive window overlooking the infernal skyline, ”if removing the piece disrupts the board… perhaps it is the board that must change.”

His grin widened.

A brilliant idea had begun to form, simple, elegant, and deliciously ruthless.

”Why not replace all the Sin Lords?”

He chuckled softly at the thought. Pride, Greed, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Wrath… relics of an outdated system. Powerful, yes, but also independent. Difficult to control. Each ruled their domain like miniature monarchs, owing loyalty to the crown only when it suited them.

How inconvenient.

Kaelmor tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully.

”Or perhaps,” he mused, ”restructure Hell entirely. A proper monarchy. Much like the mortal realm.”

His eyes sparkled with theatrical delight.

”I would, of course, remain king. The others? Dukes, perhaps. Or counts. Decorative titles to soothe their egos while stripping their true authority.”

He paused.

Then laughed.

”Oh… wait. That would be exactly the same as now, wouldn’t it?”

His laughter faded into a contemplative hum.

No.

That wasn’t enough.

Titles meant nothing if power remained distributed.

What Kaelmor wanted… what he craved… was singularity.

Absolute control.

A Hell that answered to one will.

His will.

And then it came to him.

Slowly.

Beautifully.

A thought so elegant it made his smile turn razor-sharp.

”Or…” he whispered, eyes gleaming, ”I could simply reset Hell.”

The word reset hung in the air like a promise.

Why did he want this?

Because Hell, in its current state, had grown stagnant. Predictable. The Sin Houses had become entrenched powers, more concerned with preserving their influence than evolving. They formed alliances, negotiated behind his back, and, most insultingly, created a balance of power that limited the king himself.

Kaelmor despised limitations.

He thrived on chaos, on reinvention, on the thrill of the unknown. A reset would shatter the existing hierarchy, erase centuries of political baggage, and allow him to rebuild Hell from the ground up, this time with unquestioned authority at its center.

No more divided loyalties.

No more independent Sin Lords.

No more being overshadowed.

And Lux?

Kaelmor’s smile softened into something almost affectionate.

”Ah, Luxy… you truly are remarkable.”

Resetting Hell would solve everything.

Lux’s vast network would collapse alongside the old system, rendering his alliances meaningless. In the chaos of rebirth, Kaelmor could choose who rose and who fell. He could even offer Lux a place in the new order, stripped of his current influence, but still useful.

Or…

If Lux proved too difficult to control…

”Well,” Kaelmor said lightly, ”every new world requires a few… sacrifices.”

His smile sharpened, eyes gleaming with calculated delight as the full scope of his plan unfolded in his mind.

First, the Sin Lords.

They were the pillars of the current Hell, independent, powerful, and far too comfortable. Kaelmor intended to remove them all in a single, decisive purge. A clean cut. No heirs, no lingering claims, no possibility of rebellion. Hell would awaken to a power vacuum so absolute that resistance would be impossible.

But not everyone would be destroyed.

The useful ones would be bound.

Lux Vaelthorn stood at the center of that list.

Lux’s core was imprinted with countless soul contracts across realms, economic pacts, celestial agreements, infernal trade routes. To control Lux was to control the infrastructure of Hell itself. Ownership of Lux meant ownership of every contract tied to him.

”Such a valuable asset,” Kaelmor murmured fondly.

Of course, Lux would not submit willingly.

Which meant harsher methods would be required.

Hostages, for instance.

Kaelmor’s smile turned knowing. Lux was not particularly close to his parents, a weakness that might have rendered such leverage ineffective. But Kaelmor had anticipated this. It was precisely why he had subtly pushed Zavros to mend his fractured relationship with his son. Encouraging reconciliation, fostering familial bonds, creating emotional stakes where once there were none.

Now, those bonds could be exploited. ℴℴ𝘮

”Emotion,” Kaelmor mused. ”Such a delightful chain.”

If necessary, Seraphyne and Zavros would be taken, their safety contingent upon Lux’s obedience. Faced with the choice between submission and their destruction, Kaelmor was confident Lux would make the logical decision.

And if he did not?

Kaelmor’s eyes darkened with chilling amusement.

”Then we simply break him,” he whispered.

The reset of Hell would not merely be an act of destruction, it would be a meticulously orchestrated takeover. Swift, absolute, and beautifully irreversible.

He turned from the window, cloak swirling dramatically as he returned to his throne. Settling back into it, he steepled his fingers, eyes alight with manic anticipation.

A reset wouldn’t just be destruction.

It would be a performance.

A grand, theatrical rebirth of Hell itself.

And Kaelmor adored a good show.

”Yes,” he whispered, voice dripping with delight. ”Let’s wipe the slate clean.”

The King of Hell began to laugh, softly at first, then louder, echoing through the vast chamber like the opening act of an apocalypse.

”Curtains up,” Kaelmor murmured. ”It’s time for a brand new Hell.”