Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 1017 – Smug Jelly

Zehar held his pose.

He looked smug.

Triumphant.

A little shiny.

He was definitely waiting for validation. Possibly applause. Maybe a formal acknowledgment of his ancient wisdom. Maybe someone to call him ”Lord Zehar” and admit that beneath the coffee theft, dramatic wobbling, and snack-sized body, he was still a terrifying elder of the Shadow Corridors.

No one spoke.

Everyone just stared at him.

Gula blinked slowly, then whispered, ”Is this the part where we clap?”

Corvus finally failed. He turned his beak away and made a strangled caw that was absolutely laughter wearing a fake mustache.

Zehar’s puffed chest slowly sank. His jelly body flattened slightly. ”...I hate all of you.”

Lux sighed.

He knew that tone.

That was not normal sulking.

The kind that could become three hours of complaints if not handled with careful emotional bribery.

Lux leaned back and lifted his coffee. ”You are useful, Zehar.”

Zehar did not move.

Lux added, ”Your knowledge may save time.”

Still nothing.

Zehar had become a sad blob beside the cup.

Sira looked at Lux, amused now. ”That was terrible.”

Lux glanced at her. ”I praised him.”

”That was an invoice, not praise.”

Gula nodded. ”Very dry.”

Naomi smiled faintly. ”He needs admiration, not acknowledgment.”

Cyrinne’s lips curved. ”Envy agrees.”

Lux stared at all of them. ”You’re all experts now?”

”Yes,” several women answered at once.

Zehar remained flat.

Lux exhaled.

Fine.

If small praise failed, then apparently diplomacy required theatrical inflation.

Lux placed his cup down, turned fully toward Zehar, and gave him a solemn nod. ”Lord Zehar.”

The jelly twitched.

Target responsive.

Lux continued, voice deeper, richer, shamelessly formal.

”Former ancient lord of the Shadow Corridors. Your wisdom in this matter is not merely useful. It is essential.”

Zehar slowly rose.

Corvus looked like he might die.

Lux pressed on because now he was committed to the bit and hated himself only slightly. ”If there is anyone at this table who can navigate the ancient grudges of the Shadow Corridors, it is you.”

Zehar puffed up again.

Bigger this time.

Lux finished with a graceful tilt of his head. ”So yes. We ask for your help. Because you are the wisest among us.”

Silence.

Then Zehar shivered from satisfaction. ”Acceptable,” he said.

Sira covered her mouth.

Mira turned away.

Gula clapped.

Zehar immediately pointed at her. ”You understand respect.”

”I understand hungry pride,” Gula said cheerfully.

Lux muttered, ”That makes two of us.”

Zehar lifted a tendril with renewed dignity. ”I will contact the old corridors. Quietly. No direct names. No obvious route. I still have favors.”

Corvus tilted his head. ”People owe you favors?”

Zehar smiled smugly. ”Of course.”

Lux narrowed his eyes. ”Do they know you’re jelly now?”

Zehar paused. His confidence dimmed by exactly twelve percent. ”Not all of them.”

Lux stared at him.

Gula stared at him with the expression of someone who had just discovered a dessert had a tragic backstory.

Sira slowly crossed her arms. ”So your grand ancient lord network may not take you seriously because you look like pudding.”

Zehar trembled. ”I am not pudding.”

Gula tilted her head. ”Jelly?”

”I am not jelly either.”

Lux raised an eyebrow.

Zehar’s whole body wobbled. ”I am temporarily gelatinous.”

Corvus made another choking sound.

Zehar spun toward him. ”Laugh again and I will curse your feathers to sing romantic ballads every sunrise.”

Corvus immediately went silent.

Lux looked between them, then leaned back in his chair. ”Then shall I give you permission to access your true form?”

The air changed.

Zehar stopped wobbling.

For one rare moment, his ridiculousness peeled away.

Underneath the coffee theft, the sulking, the ancient ego stuffed inside a soft transparent body, there was something old enough to make the wards listen.

He looked at Lux. Hopeful. ”You do?”

Sira’s gaze snapped to Lux. ”Are you sure?”

Mira leaned forward, suddenly interested. ”Oh, this could be either brilliant or furniture-ending.”

Fiera’s tails flicked. ”Possibly both.”

Lullaby lifted her hammer lazily. ”Can I bonk the ancient lord?”

Lux said, ”If needed.”

Zehar looked offended. ”You turned me into this.”

”You attacked me first.”

Lux stood from the table.

Everyone watched him.

Lux extended one hand toward Zehar, palm down, Greed aura gathering around his fingers. ”Just be nice, okay?”

Zehar puffed with dignity. ”I am always nice.”

The entire room rejected that statement without needing words.

Lux’s smile grew thinner. ”Remember. The contract is in your core.”

Zehar went very still.

The script flickered faintly beneath his translucent surface. Tiny chains, invisible before, glimmered like thread wrapped around a hidden ember.

Lux’s voice softened. Which somehow made it worse. ”If I want to blow it up, I will blow it up.”

Cyrinne smiled like someone watching poetry written with a knife.

Lux tilted his head. ”So don’t do weird things...” He paused. Then added, with just enough respect to make it deliciously unfair, ”Lord Zehar.”

Zehar trembled. That little title hit him directly in whatever ancient organ still processed pride.

His body rose slightly higher, glowing from within. ”I will remember that.”

Lux nodded. ”Good.” Then he extended his hand fully toward the small jelly on the table.

”I, Lux Vaelthorn, as your master, permit Zehar, ancient lord of the Shadow Corridors, to return to his original form.”

The system flared.

[Authority Command Recognized]

[Contract Master: Lux Vaelthorn]

[Bound Entity: Zehar]

[Current Form Restriction: Active]

[Permission Granted: Temporary Original Form Access]

[Safety Clause: Core Detonation Authority Retained]

[Warning: Ancient Lord Manifestation May Destabilize Local Space]

Lux read the warning. Looked at the chandeliers and the imported furniture. Then sighed. ”Oh dear...”

The Greed chains around Zehar loosened.

They did not break.

Lux was generous, not stupid.

Greed links slid back from Zehar’s core like a collar being unfastened but not removed. The table trembled. The air thickened. Shadows in the corners stretched long and strange, as if remembering old corridors no mansion should contain.

Zehar began to laugh.

At first, it was the tiny voice of the jelly.

”Heh.”

Then deeper.

”Hehehe.”

Then the voice cracked downward into something vast, ancient, and theatrical enough to make Sira immediately regret allowing this inside during dinner.

”MUAHAHAHAHAHA!”