Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

[Warning. Pocket Dimension anomaly detected.]

[Classification: Celestial. Subtype: Angelic Construct.]

[Probability of ambush: 89.2%. Escape route limited.]

[Recommended action: Caution.]

[Note: Your current location is not Limbo. Celestial Pocket Dimension confirmed.]

Lux narrowed his eyes behind the helmet, wind cutting across his cheeks as he zoomed toward the next intersection.

"Tch. Celestial?" he muttered. "Of course it is."

Because yeah. Why not. He'd barely just cleaned up the mess with Carson, picked up wine glasses, and now what? Surprise celestial tax audit?

[Lock-in threshold approaching. 800 meters. Do you wish to reroute?]

Lux huffed. "No. Let's see what these heaven-boys want."

He spurred the motorcycle forward, leaning low, watching as the air around him subtly shimmered. A thin silver veil shimmered across the edge of the road like glass cracked over sunlight.

And then it closed behind him.

The sound was soft—like a bell snapping shut.

[Dimensional Exit Sealed.]

[You are now within a Celestial Pocket Field.]

[Tracking disabled.]

"Great," Lux muttered. "Like getting sealed in a disco ball run by Heaven's secret police."

He slowed slightly. His eyes scanned the shifting, almost sterile surroundings—clouds shaped like ornamental marble, skies too blue, trees too symmetrical. Everything glowed faintly, like a filtered dream.

And then—

[Dimensional breach detected. Multiple signatures.]

[Three portals incoming.]

They formed behind him. Swirls of white-gold light, their hum sharp and holy.

Lux's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, where he saw them emerge.

Lions.

No. Not just lions. White ones. With massive feathered wings, glowing mane, and radiant blue sigils etched into its fur like divine branding. Its eyes blazed like judgment-day spotlights.

The riders? Three humanoid figures.

Angels.

But not the bureaucratic kind. Not the robed, haloed, quill-carrying diplomats Lux usually negotiated soul clauses with.

No. These ones wore leather. Armor. Sleeveless robes torn at the hems. Battlewear.

Hunters.

Bounty-class angels.

"Wonderful," Lux muttered, accelerating. "Did none of these featherbrains watch the stream when I killed Vyrak? Like—I murdered a High Lord of Pride. Take a hint, chicken out."

[Negative.]

[Your combat data is currently viral on InfernalNet but remains restricted on CelestialNet. Distribution protocols vary.]

Lux almost choked. "Wait—you're telling me Heaven didn't get the memo?"

[Correct. CelestialNet is filtered for 'mortal safety and divine image preservation.']

He deadpanned. "Unbelievable. I need cross-realm marketing."

The lion roared behind him. A sound that rippled through space, trembled through Lux's ribs. He twisted the throttle harder.

"Analyze," Lux commanded.

[Analyzing targets…]

[Name: Elio]

[Class: Radiant Lancer]

[Level: 190]

[Skills: Lightbound Pin, Celestial Cage, Sanctum Dash, Wing Blade Crescent]

[Name: Kaelin]

[Class: Binding Hexer]

[Level: 188]

[Skills: Divine Snare, Soul Brand, Halo Trap, Judgment Mark]

[Name: Vahl]

[Class: Wrath Paladin]

[Level: 193]

[Skills: Smite Barrage, Barrier of Faith, Seeker Spear, Oath Burst]

Lux's eyes narrowed. "They sent elites?"

He smirked faintly. "Guess I made the VIP list."

One of the angels murmured something—Lux couldn't hear it—but he felt the result.

A golden circle of runes flared in the air ahead.

[Trap Detected: Halo Snare]

Lines of holy script formed midair—webbing across like a sigil net.

Lux cursed, banking his bike hard left, tires screeching as he narrowly skimmed the edge of the trap. The sigils sparked, grazing the back wheel.

Then came light spikes.

Behind him.

[Incoming Skill: Seeker Spear]

They burst forward like heat-seeking lances of light, white and gold, sharp and singing with divine resonance.

Lux grit his teeth, weaving through them—left, right, twist under, lean. One sliced the tip of his mirror.

"Dammit—"

And just as he steadied—

Another trap.

Same angle. Ahead.

[Trap Detected: Celestial Cage. Estimated impact: 2 seconds.]

His instincts screamed.

Lux leapt.

'Shadow Step.'

A flicker—his body blurred, reappeared ten meters in the air—mid-sprint forward.

But his motorcycle—

The poor thing.

It hit the trap like a puppy running into a glass door.

-CRASH!

The impact echoed. Metal crumpled. Fire burst. Tires screamed. And Lux's precious chrome ride skidded and tumbled, flipping twice before bursting into flames.

He landed smoothly nearby, crouched, a trail of black smoke rising behind him.

"…I just bought that!" Lux shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm trying to keep things low-key here!"

The angels didn't reply. The lions circled, growling low. The trio dismounted mid-air, floating slightly.

Kaelin's voice was calm, cool, righteous. "Lux Vaelthorn. Registered Incubus Entity. CFO of Infernal Sector Seven."

Lux straightened. "Wow. You even got the resume right."

"You're in violation of the Cross-Plane Decency Clause."

"Which one?" Lux asked. "There's like seven."

"All of them." Vahl snarled. "Your presence radiates uncontrolled lust and greed. Dangerous to mortals and celestials alike."

Lux tilted his head. "So… you're here to what? Lecture me? Arrest me?"

"Oh wait, I have permission to be here. That clause has expired already!" he added.

Elio's wings flared, halo gleaming above him like a blade. "We're here to remove you."

Lux clicked his tongue. "Yikes. No first date? Just straight to celestial assassination?"

"You're a threat," Kaelin said, her voice lined with steel. "And threats must be neutralized."

Lux's smile sharpened. "That depends."

"On what?"

He rolled his shoulder, his aura flickering to life—gold heat, raw charm, and that signature scent of sin-stained citrus and fire.

"Whether you brought enough angels," Lux said coolly.

The air warped around him.

Then—

"Battle form."

His voice cut the space clean, sharp as a trade deal turned lethal.

The mortal leathers peeled away like smudged ink.

[You have activated your battle form]

In their place, obsidian-black armor erupted over his limbs—slim, spiked, and gleaming like forged hell-gold dipped in midnight. His shoulders sharpened. His spine elongated slightly, and out from his back—wings.

His helmet vanished in flame. Red eyes burned beneath tousled dark hair, his pupils slitted like a predator's. His smirk was crooked and cruel now—less flirt, more executioner.

Twin black daggers shimmered into his hands, curved and deadly.

He flicked them once—casual. Testing the balance.

Then his voice turned razor-sharp.

"System. Record."

[Recording has started. Do you wish to stream this session to InfernalNet?]

"No. Just record. Celestials are watching. I can't be reckless."

[Understood.]

[Agility Boost Activated.]

And just like that—he moved.