Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

"Ah." Lux smiled, slow and sly. "Because not every soul in hell belongs there."

That got their attention.

Naomi set her cup down slowly. "Explain."

Lux leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, hands steepled like he was about to pitch a deal to a board of skeptical executives.

"Take a guy," he began. "Let's say—mid-twenties. Poor. Grew up in a trash part of the city. No support. Parents bailed. Bullied at school. Screamed at by teachers. Harassed online. Never hurt anyone, but got treated like trash every day of his life."

He paused, letting the words settle.

"One day, he snaps. Posts a goodbye message. Climbs a building. Jumps."

Mira's face darkened.

Rava looked away.

Naomi stared straight at him. "And?"

"He lands in hell," Lux said, tone quieter now. "Because technically? Suicide's a sin. He rejected life. Broke the universal law of survival."

"That's messed up," Rava muttered.

Lux nodded. "Is it his fault? Sure. He made the choice. But is all the blame his? No. He was cornered. Hurt. Encouraged, even. People egged him on. Told him he was worthless. Cheered when he fell."

Silence blanketed the room for a moment. Even Sira looked away, uncharacteristically still.

"That's the kind of soul the Celestials want," Lux said. "A 'gray soul.' Shouldn't have gone to hell. Might've even done some good if he'd been helped. A soul they want to redeem."

Naomi swallowed. "And what do you get in return?"

Lux's smirk sharpened. "Something… similar."

Rava glanced up. "Like?"

He shrugged. "Say there's a man who spent his life helping others. Good Samaritan. Charity donor. A saint by all appearances. But behind closed doors? Abused his family in the name of discipline. Fed off attention because he knew that doing a good thing in public would give him fame and reputation. Never got caught."

Naomi tensed. "And?"

"He dies peacefully in his bed. Funeral packed. People singing his praise." Lux leaned in. "And the Celestial realm accepts him—at first. Because the record shows charity, donations, prayers, all the right motions."

Mira's eyes narrowed. "But the truth?"

"Faked," Lux said. "Woven with illusion and manipulation. That's the kind of soul I like to trade for. They look clean on the outside. But deep inside? Filthy. Rotten. Poison."

Rava blinked, stunned. "So you swap them?"

Lux nodded. "Redemption for the damned. Damnation for the undeserving."

Naomi sat back, absorbing it all. "How often does this happen?"

"More than you think," he said. "A lot of people wear masks. The systems upstairs aren't perfect. The Celestials want souls to save. And I want the ones that slipped through the cracks."

Sira smiled faintly. "Greed and justice. What a pair."

"Hey," Lux said, raising his cup, "I'm not just Hell's CFO. I'm also a collector."

The girls didn't laugh.

Not this time.

Not because they were afraid—but because it was true. And somehow, in Lux's hands, the concept of buying and selling souls sounded less like horror… and more like balance.

Mira finally whispered, "You really deal in souls…"

Lux gave her a sideways glance. "You still shocked?"

She blinked at him, cheeks warm. "I mean—yes. A little. You're literally carrying souls in your pocket like spare change."

"I keep them in their own sub-compartment," he said. "I'm not rude."

Naomi raised an eyebrow. "And all those people made deals with you willingly?"

"They signed contracts," he said simply. "And I honored my end. I always do."

"Of course you do," Sira muttered. "Greed never breaks its terms. That's what makes you all terrifying."

Lux grinned. "It's called integrity."

The air shifted again as the twin servants—Velza and Vierra—stood quietly nearby, still waiting for orders. Their spectral tools shimmered in their belts, multicolored makeup kits and enchanted combs floating beside them like obedient familiars.

Rava glanced at them, suddenly remembering their existence. "Wait… are they bound by those kinds of deals too?"

Lux nodded. "Business tanked. They asked for help. I gave them a deal. No pain. No chains. Just... soul-stamped loyalty."

Mira looked at the twins. "And you're okay with that?"

Velza smiled politely. "It's better than starving in an empty salon."

Vierra added, "And we get to style the most powerful women in this mansion. It's an honor."

Sira snorted. "Flatterer."

Vierra batted her lashes. "You're welcome."

Naomi looked back at Lux. "So what happens to a soul after it's turned into currency?"

"Depends," he said. "Some go to vaults. Some get refined for energy. Some get repurposed—reborn under different systems. That's high-level trading, though. You'd need contracts, permissions, realm clearance…"

Mira held up a hand. "Stop. You're giving me economy trauma."

Lux laughed. "Sorry. Occupational hazard."

But the tension in the room had changed. They weren't scared. Not really.

Just aware.

That Lux—behind all the smirks and sin and smugness—wasn't just some pretty devil with good taste and too much money.

He was a force.

One that could reshape the fates of the dead with a flick of his wrist.

Naomi glanced at Rava. Then Mira. Then Sira.

They all knew.

This was not just another sugar-daddy demon with infernal credit cards and good d*ck.

This was Lux Vaelthorn. Son of Greed and Lust. The man who could reassign your soul while eating eggs.

And somehow?

That only made him hotter.

Naomi didn't want to admit it out loud—ever—but the man's sheer audacity had a gravitational pull. One minute he was casually breaking down soul-trading loopholes in the multiversal balance sheet, and the next he was chewing on a buttered croissant like it was a war crime he planned to get away with.

Across the table, Mira still looked faintly overwhelmed. She'd adjusted to Lux's chaotic brilliance over the past few days, but soul economics before caffeine? That was criminal.

Rava was spacing out beside her, eyes unfocused, probably reliving the events of earlier that morning in painfully vivid detail. She was flushed. Quiet. Shiny. Very shiny. No one commented, but they didn't need to.