Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 635: New ATH

Chapter 635 – New ATH

He finished the last of his coffee, popping a small sugar-burnt biscuit into his mouth as he leaned back in the bath. Steam clung to his skin. He didn’t even towel off yet, too comfortable, too full of that slow incubus high. Victory tasted like caramel and heat and Lullaby’s tail.

Once the water cooled to a point even his infernal blood called it ’tepid,’ Lux finally moved. Smooth, unhurried. He stepped out, dried off with one of those towels that absorbed water and stress.

Then came the dressing.

Greed demon style.

Sharp collar, open just enough to hint at the bruises on his collarbone. A deep obsidian coat etched in shimmering green circuit-runed thread, his brand signature. Tailored pants, cuffed at the ankle, boots polished until they made pride demons weep.

Rings? Gold and obsidian.

Horns? Still out, still curved, still gleaming.

Cologne? Dark spice with a Greedline mana signature, enough to make lesser succubi weak in the knees.

He glanced at the mirror.

Smirked.

Yeah. He looked like himself again.

He smelled like himself again.

Infernal. Problem. And money.

"Now that’s a brand," he muttered. "Stock market devil with morning sex in his hair and world domination in his cologne."

He checked his system mirror overlay.

[Style Sync: 100%]

[Status: You are Him.]

"Damn right I am," he said, still smiling.

And with that, he walked out.

The corridor lights adjusted to his mana. His pace was casual, luxurious, and arrogant in that "I just fixed the economy and had an orgasm" way.

He passed the master bed.

Lullaby? Still out cold.

She had curled deeper into the mattress, blanket around her shoulders like a sleepy demon burrito. One leg peeking out, covered in faint dream sigils, cheeks still glowing from their earlier... negotiations.

Lux walked over, leaned down, and kissed her forehead gently. His palm brushed her cheek, smoothing a lock of hair back.

"Sleep tight, dream bunny," he whispered.

Then he pulled the blanket higher, making sure she was warm.

He stepped out.

Down the stairs. Across the hall. Through the garden-arched glass walkway toward the east dining wing.

Sunlight hit him.

It made the green shine harder in his coat thread.

[Mood Detection – You are pleased, sir.]

"Why wouldn’t I be?" Lux said. "Good sex, good market, and no war crimes... yet."

He walked into the breakfast lounge.

Immediately, the scent of roasted herbs, fresh bread, sweet-spiced fruit and buttered jam greeted him. So did the chatter of his girls.

Ely sat by the windows, combing her hair.

Sira, arms crossed, sipping something red and absolutely alcoholic.

Naomi was already on her tablet.

Rava lounged back with that calm kraken energy, absently toying with a pearl.

Mira? Mid-bite of some flaky pastry, eyes already flicking toward him.

They all looked up.

"Morning, everyone," Lux said, casual as hell.

He dropped into the head chair like he owned the place. Because, of course, he did. The sun hit just right behind him. Like an accidental halo. Or an intentional threat.

He looked fresh.

Alive.

Not a trace of the stress he wore when the infernal market collapsed and he was literally tied to the bed by his own harem to "rest."

This was him. Wearing his smile like a sword.

Naomi narrowed her eyes. "You’re glowing."

"Unacceptable," Sira muttered dryly. "He’s supposed to be recovering, not doing pushups on dream girls."

"I didn’t pushup anything," Lux said innocently, resting his chin on his knuckles. "Lullaby just cuddled me very thoroughly."

Ely snorted. "You look well, Lux. Like... reborn."

Sira scoffed. "No. Not reborn. Just smug. The infernal market’s up after last night. Most of the indexes reached new ATH."

Lux’s eyebrow lifted. Smirk widened.

"New All Time High," Sira confirmed, pulling out her infernal tablet and tapping it. "HellCoin’s up twenty percent. SoulBond index just crushed its quarterly cap. Even lesser trade derivatives are surging. All because you showed up on camera and talk like you own the underworld."

He leaned back, tail curling slightly in satisfaction.

The girls’ eyes lit up.

Rava blinked. "That fast?"

Mira put down her fork. "Wow... you really hold the hell economy like a leash, huh?"

Naomi arched a brow. "Just from a press conference?"

Sira turned the tablet to show them the charts. Glowing green. Spiking upward.

Mira stared, then slowly looked at Lux. "You know... I thought I understood just how much of a big deal you were after all Sira’s lectures, explanation and weird economic metaphors."

"Luxonomics," Naomi muttered.

"But," Mira continued, "apparently I didn’t know shit."

Ely nodded thoughtfully. "We really did get tangled with a dangerous demon."

Rava smirked. "Hey. You volunteered."

Naomi leaned forward, chin on her palm. "Just curious, Lux... how far does your power go now? I mean... economically speaking."

Lux sipped his tea.

Calm.

Cool.

Collected.

He set it down with a soft clink.

Then smiled. "If you want this mortal realm for yourselves..." he said slowly, "economically?"

The girls leaned forward.

"I could give it to you."

Pause.

"Just give me a week."

The silence was thick.

The look on his face wasn’t joking.

Ely laughed first, short and breathless, somewhere between awe and disbelief.

Sira covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "Of course you could."

Mira pointed at him. "That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard someone say before breakfast."

Naomi just sighed. "Lux. You need to stop turning macroeconomics into foreplay."

Rava raised her teacup. "Never stop. It’s part of the charm."

Lux reached for a croissant. "Who says I’m charming?"

"You literally opened your press conference half open chested," Sira said flatly.

"That’s called branding," Lux replied.

He leaned back again, basking in it. The charts. The company. The scent of breakfast he didn’t touch. The way all of them looked at him, not just with lust, but with that subtle dawning realization...

He wasn’t just some sexy incubus prince.

He was dangerous.

Economically.

Politically.

Romantically.

And he was theirs.

Or maybe...

They were his.