Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 504: What The Hell Need

Chapter 504 – What The Hell Need

Lux’s eyes narrowed slightly. "So what, you’re saying Zoltarin can’t kill my father?"

"He shouldn’t be able to," Kaelmor said. "If Zavros still holds the Greed Throne properly."

Lux didn’t reply.

Because that was the unspoken truth.

That was how Hell worked.

No trials. No evidence. Just results.

If someone killed you... and you didn’t stop them... you weren’t fit to rule.

That had always been the rule. Kaelmor himself said it during the first year of his reign. Back when every demon warlord from the Nine Rings thought they could take him.

And he let them come.

Every duel. Every assassination attempt. Every challenge.

He killed them all. Smiling. In public. With flair. With teeth.

Because in Hell, power was proof.

Not morals.

Not history.

Not just bloodline.

If Zoltarin succeeded, if he really made a move and took Zavros down, then that meant Zavros was done.

The throne would shift, and Hell would adjust.

No tears. No speeches.

Just a new entry in the ledger.

Lux said nothing.

What could he say?

That he wanted it to be different? That maybe, just once, he wished his father could be protected just for being good?

But Zavros had never been good. Just... tired.

And Zoltarin? He was never gone. Just waiting.

Kaelmor’s voice softened slightly. "I know what you’re thinking."

Lux didn’t look at him.

"You want to protect your father. But you don’t want to excuse him. You want to hate your uncle. But part of you understands him."

Lux’s lips tightened. He said nothing.

Kaelmor grinned. "You want to save Hell. But only if you can do it without becoming a monster."

That one made Lux flinch. Just barely.

"You’re like Seredor," Kaelmor mused. "Smart. Patient. Dangerous. But softer, in the heart. That’s the part that worries me."

Lux finally spoke, voice low. "I’m not soft."

Kaelmor smirked. "Prove it."

Lux raised his gaze. Locked eyes with the King.

"I will."

The words landed heavy.

Because Lux wasn’t here to beg. He wasn’t here to ask for help.

He was here to win.

And if that meant facing Zoltarin—his uncle, the family ghost, the sealed prince whose smile haunted too many dreams—then so be it.

If he had to bleed his legacy clean and rebuild it from profit and fire, he would.

Kaelmor tapped the desk with one finger.

"Well then, Luxxy," he said, "let the games begin."

And behind his smile, Lux already knew...

They had.

He didn’t smile back.

Didn’t roll his eyes or throw out some cocky finance pun like he usually would. He just dipped his head slightly, just enough to be polite but not deferent, and turned on his heel.

The thick black carpet beneath his shoes barely made a sound as he walked toward the exit.

Kaelmor didn’t watch his feet.

He watched his back.

Even in retreat, the boy carried the aura of someone in control. Not just of the room. Of the system. The world. Himself.

"Thank you for your time, then," Lux said, right at the threshold.

Kaelmor swiveled once in his chair, resting his elbows on the arms and lacing his fingers together.

"No," he replied smoothly. "Thank you."

Lux paused, one brow lifting.

Kaelmor grinned, but it wasn’t wide. Not the sharp, manic kind. It was quieter. Thoughtful. Almost grim. "You’ve given me information I needed to hear. Zoltarin might target you first, sure. You’re a thorn. An obstacle. But eventually..."

His eyes flicked toward the window, where shadows flickered across the obsidian glass.

"...he’ll come for me. So I need to be ready. In case a few little surprises crawl their way into my bedchamber and try to cut my throat while I’m busy enjoying a fine bottle of mortal champagne and someone’s divorced succubus ex-wife."

Lux snorted. Just once. Dry.

"I’ll take my leave now," he said.

He turned again, steps heading for the corridor’s mana-sealed doors.

But then...

"Lux."

He stopped.

The way Kaelmor said it, flat and firm, not his usual flamboyant "Luxxy," made Lux freeze on instinct.

He turned his head slightly.

Kaelmor was no longer lounging. No glint in his eye. Just a man with centuries under his belt, more scars than trophies, and the kind of weariness that comes from surviving too many near-misses with knives, gods, and Parliament meetings.

"You better stay alive, boy," Kaelmor said quietly. "Hell’s been thriving since you became the CFO."

Silence hung there. For once, no magic shimmered in the air. No illusion. No drama.

Just truth.

"And I know," Kaelmor went on, "that the Upper Realm prefers you. Over your uncle. Over your father. Over me, most days."

He gave a faint smirk. "They’re all terrified of you, of course. But they respect you. Because you make things work. You make the system run. You don’t let pride or legacy get in the way of performance."

Kaelmor leaned forward.

"Zoltarin can’t do that. Hell, even your dad couldn’t. But you... you keep the gears turning, even when they’re soaked in blood."

Lux stared at him for a long second. Not cold. Not emotional. Just listening.

"I’ll keep that in mind," he said.

And then he left. Just like that. No flare. No teleport burst. Just the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway until the doors hissed shut behind him.

Kaelmor sat still for a while.

He stared at the empty space where Lux had stood, then slowly reached for the bottle of blood-aged rum on his sideboard. Poured himself two fingers. No garnish. No smoke. Just old liquor in a crystal glass.

He stared at the glass for a moment.

Then drank.

His reflection in the black glass of his desk showed a man who had once torn down an entire era with a smile. A man who’d restructured Hell’s royalty like a game of chess, sacrificing knights, burning bishops, and bedding queens.

And now?

He was watching the next generation rise.

Stronger. Sharper. Colder.

Lux was something else entirely. Something Seredor never could have predicted. A perfect blend of contract and charisma. A boy born from war but raised like an investment.

Kaelmor ran a hand down his face and muttered, "Seredor... you sly bastard. You really bred a CFO into a crown."

He didn’t know if Lux would survive.

But if he did?

He wouldn’t just be Lord of Greed.

He’d be more dangerous than any of them.

And maybe... maybe that was exactly what Hell needed.