Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 1113 – Hacked Our Way Through

Cyrinne’s lips curved faintly.

She sat opposite him, crossing one leg over the other with slow elegance. Green fire painted her face in sharp shadows, catching in her eyes until they looked less like eyes and more like expensive poison.

”Fine,” she said. ”But I need to tell you a few things first.”

”Go on,” he said.

Cyrinne tapped one nail against the black table. ”The king has guarded this demon.”

Lux’s expression did not change.

Cyrinne’s voice lowered. ”I peeked yesterday.”

Lux’s brow lifted. ”You peeked?”

”I am Envy. Peeking is practically national service.”

”Fair.”

”And yes...” Her smile faded by one precise degree. ”They had arrived. Royal guards. Not ordinary ones. The quiet kind. They are pretending not to exist, which is always the loudest possible confession.”

Lux’s jaw shifted slightly.

”How many?” Lux asked.

”Enough.”

”That is not a number.”

”It is the number you give when counting them too carefully means they count you back.”

Lux stared at her.

Cyrinne smiled sweetly.

He hated that answer because it was good.

”Continue.”

”The path I will show you is special.” She lifted one hand toward the green flame. The fire bent toward her fingers like a hungry pet. ”We are not walking there with bodies. We hacked our way through an Envy path as guardians.”

Cyrinne continued as if treaty violation was table etiquette. ”The route recognizes us as temporary guardian reflections. Only our spirits pass through. Our bodies remain here.”

Lux’s gaze flicked to the room.

Sealed walls. Green flame. No servants. No visible exits except the door they came through.

His body would remain here.

Vulnerable.

Lux did not like that.

Not because he feared leaving his body behind. Vulnerability was different now. He had more to lose. His mansion. His women. Heaven. Deals not yet closed. Enemies not yet broken.

If his body was harmed here, his spirit might not make it back clean.

If Cyrinne betrayed him... His eyes returned to her.

Cyrinne noticed the thought. Envy women were allergic to missed suspicion.

”You do not trust me,” she said.

Lux smiled faintly. ”I trust you to be exactly what you are.”

”Flattering. And what am I?”

”Beautiful, informed, dangerous, ambitious, and currently useful.”

Cyrinne’s eyes gleamed. ”Useful? How romantic.”

”I’m Greed. Romantic and useful often share a hallway.”

She laughed softly, then sobered. ”You will still have access to your power and skills. If the king’s guards try to catch or kill us, we can fight.”

”That implies they can perceive us.”

”Yes. Because this hacked path is imperfect.”

Lux exhaled through his nose.

He liked her.

Lux respected competence.

Unfortunately, competence often came with curves and bad ideas in Hell.

Cyrinne leaned forward slightly. ”The time limit is two hours.”

Lux’s expression sharpened. ”Why?”

”The path decays. Envy reflections cannot impersonate guardians forever. After two hours, the route collapses and drags all foreign consciousness back to the anchor point.”

”Violently?”

”Preferably not.”

”Can the guards block our return?”

”If they catch us before the collapse? Yes.”

”Can they kill our spirits?”

Cyrinne paused. ”Yes,” she said.

The green flame hissed.

The room felt colder despite the fire.

Cyrinne did not soften the truth. Lux appreciated that more than reassurance. ”So don’t get caught or killed,” she added.

Lux stared at her. Then, slowly, his mouth curved. ”Brilliant operational guidance.”

”I am known for clarity.”

Lux looked into the flame. Inside it, shadows curled like fingers behind glass. Something moved there. Not a shape. Not yet. More like the memory of a locked door remembering footsteps.

Lux felt the pressure settle on his shoulders. It was that familiar sensation before a deal turned bloody. The moment when every asset on the board gained weight, when the wrong move could cost not money but lives, trust, and irreversible ground.

He only looked at Cyrinne and nodded once. ”Understood.”

Cyrinne studied him for a heartbeat longer, then gave a small smile. ”Right.”

She inhaled slowly.

Cyrinne lifted both hands.

Wards flared across the salon.

Green script crawled over the floor in spirals. Mirrors that were not visible moments ago shimmered into existence along the walls, then turned black one by one. Each black surface reflected an empty room, then another empty room, then another, layering false locations over their bodies like veils.

Lux watched the work carefully.

She was good.

The wards did not scream protection. They whispered absence.

Their bodies would remain here, but anyone searching would find versions of the room where no one had ever entered, where the chairs were empty, where the flame had gone out, where dust lay untouched for years. A defensive labyrinth made of lies. Beautiful. Horrible. Very Envy.

Cyrinne’s gaze flicked toward him. ”Ready?”

He lifted one finger. ”Wait.”

Cyrinne’s brow curved. ”Cold feet?”

”No. Asset protection.”

Lux slid his hand into the air beside him, and dark-gold ripples opened from his dimensional storage. The space split silently, like a vault door without hinges.

Then he drew out an artifact.

It was a small black-gold hourglass, no bigger than his palm. But instead of sand, liquid shadow flowed inside it, moving upward rather than down. The frame was made of infernal gold braided with pale bone-white metal, and at its center was a closed eye carved from obsidian. It did not open.

Cyrinne leaned forward despite herself.

Lux turned it once between his fingers.

[Warden Hourglass of the Unspent Breath]

[Class: Soul-Body Protection Relic]

[Tier: Royal]

[Description: A defensive anchor designed to protect an unattended body while the owner’s consciousness travels outside physical range. Generates a layered stasis veil, misdirects hostile detection, slows fatal damage, and forcibly recalls the owner’s spirit if the body suffers lethal interference.]

Cyrinne’s lips parted slightly.

”Well,” she murmured. ”That is not casual.”

Lux smiled without looking at her. ”I try not to die casually.”

He set the hourglass in the air between their chairs.

It did not fall.

It hovered, turning slowly.

The shadow inside it reversed again, then again, as if time could not decide which direction was safer. A low pulse spread through the room. Not loud. Not bright. Just a deep, controlled pressure that wrapped around Lux’s seated body first, then extended toward Cyrinne.