Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 469: Panic Mode?

Chapter 469 – Panic Mode?

The silence was divine.

Soft morning breath against his collarbone. The weight of her limbs wrapped around him like silk ropes dipped in salt and mana. Her scent—oceanic, rich, faintly spiced—still clung to his skin. His body was warm, satisfied, perfectly still.

It should have been the ideal moment to drift back into sleep.

Just five more minutes.

Just five more—

And then his brain, being the demon it was, decided to remember.

The housewarming party.

The goddess edition.

His eyes shot open.

"Oh no."

He blinked once. Twice. Then sat up in a jolt so fast he nearly dislocated a kraken.

"Shit!"

Rava murmured something incoherent in her sleep and swatted blindly at his chest with a tentacle before rolling over and cocooning herself in the blanket.

Lux, on the other hand, was already halfway to panic.

The house. The party. The guest list. The divine guest list.

Selena. Celestaria. Solara. Possibly even some Upper Realm auditors posing as floral arrangements if they were nosy enough.

And what had he prepared?

Nothing.

Not a menu.

Not a briefing.

Not even a floral offering for Celestaria’s aesthetic-rage triggers.

[You have 11 hours and 42 minutes until goddess arrival. You have 0 hours of planning logged. Would you like to activate Panic Mode?]

"No. No no no no—"

[Too late. Panic Mode engaged. Now playing: ’Heaven is Watching’ by Internal Anxiety Orchestra.]

Lux bolted off the bed, Teleportation spell already burning at his fingertips. One glance at Rava’s peacefully sleeping form made him hesitate for half a second—then he whispered, "Sorry, babe," and vanished.

Thwip—he reappeared in the kitchen.

Lyra was standing in front of the counter stirring something thick and pastel-colored in a bowl.

She looked up.

And blinked.

And then said, very calmly, "Good morning, my Lord. Your naked body looks glorious."

Lux froze mid-step.

Still completely, absolutely, unapologetically nude.

"Uh. Yeah. Thanks," he said, rubbing his face. "Just—forget about the details. We’ve got a problem."

"More than the visual one?"

"The goddesses are coming tonight."

"...Ah." Lyra paused, then put down the whisk. "Would this be the same housewarming party like before?"

"No, I need something vegan for dinner. Tea. Herbal, obviously. Non-caffeine. Milk. Cookies. Like, angel-shaped. I don’t care if it’s cliché. Healthy food. Salad with mana sprinkles. Also, can you make snacks for the goddesses? I don’t know what Selena likes but it better not have gluten—"

"Would you like to wear pants while we discuss this?" Lyra interrupted mildly, eyes not leaving his face. "You’re... distracting."

Lux glanced down. "Oh. Right."

She handed him a tablecloth.

Without breaking eye contact.

He took it and, with all the grace of someone who had once been worshipped in six languages, wrapped it around his waist and over one shoulder.

Like a toga.

No. Like a divine toga.

He stood there, half-caffeinated, barefoot, hair wild from kraken cuddles, wearing a silk embroidered tablecloth like a deity fallen off his throne.

A Greed God.

One letter off from the classic Greek God, and twice as annoying.

Lyra stared for a beat longer. Then said, "Well. That’s a look."

"Does it inspire confidence?"

"No. But it does make me want to charge people to see you like this."

Lux rubbed his temple. "Can we skip to the part where you tell me you can handle it?"

Lyra sighed through her nose. "I’ll prep a vegan-friendly buffet. Mana-seasoned produce. Cucumber-strawberry water. Herbal infusions. Something flowery for Celestaria. I assume she’s bringing a new assistant who will get too drunk and cry about existence again?"

"Maybe," Lux muttered. "Have pillows ready."

He paced as she moved into full work mode—ingredient shelves sliding open, floating knives aligning themselves above cutting boards, the fridge rune humming to life.

"What’s the dress code?" she asked.

"Dignified celestial seduction. Maybe."

"...So gold, lace, and ankle cleavage?"

"Yes." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Lux turned back to Lyra, who was now plating early snack prototypes on white mana-silver trays. "Do you need a budget?"

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. "Did you just ask me if I needed a budget?"

"...Right." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Habit."

"You run the entire economic heart of Hell. And last time? You gave me mortal money."

"Okay, okay." He backed off, hands raised. "Just trying to delegate without micromanaging."

Lux looked down at himself again.

"Do I look like a disaster?"

"Yes," she replied instantly.

"But a sexy one?"

"A hot mess. Literally."

"I’ll take it."

He took a deep breath.

"I need this to go smooth, Lyra. No passive-aggressive comments from Celestaria. No herbal tea that tastes like punishment. No fights between Sira and Solara. Or Celestaria and Sira. Nothing that screams ’Incubus lives here.’"

She gave him a long, flat stare.

"You live here."

"I said nothing that screams it."

Lyra adjusted her apron and gestured to his tablecloth. "Then start by not looking like a furniture god."

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Nodded solemnly. "Noted."

Then he turned again, pacing like a man possessed. Or worse—like a man who remembered at the last possible minute that divine royalty would be visiting his home tonight.

He snapped his fingers. "System."

[Online, sir. Listening with polite concern.]

"Send out the invitations. All goddesses on the confirmed Housewarming list. Tonight. 7 PM. Here."

[Formatting now... Sending to Celestaria, Selena, and Solara]

"Include R.S.V.P. option. Add a polite but ominous footnote about freshly warded tea sets."

[Done.]

Lux nodded, already rubbing his temples. "Perfect. Absolutely threatening. They’ll love it."

Then he paused mid-step and turned toward the marble-topped counter.

"Right. Let’s treat this like a hostile merger. We need buffers. Friendly drinks. Scented atmosphere. Lighting tuned to four-to-one holy-demonic balance. No more, no less."

[Balancing light ratio now.]

Lux kept pacing, thinking ten layers deep. This wasn’t just a party—it was political performance art wrapped in enchanted table linens and mana-soaked hors d’oeuvres. He needed incense that didn’t burn like judgment. He needed background music that said respect me without invoking a celestial lawsuit.

He needed to not screw this up.

Lyra was already carving mana-salad leaves like a disapproving artist.

He stopped pacing.

"Lyra."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"...Thank you."

She looked up. Blinked once. Then smiled, small and rare.

"Go take a bath. You smell like kraken and pillow guilt."

Lux paused.

Then winked. "That’s also a type of cologne."

And he teleported away.