Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 82 – Vacations are Exhausting

’Should I wake her up?’ Lux thought, sipping his coffee.

His eyes drifted over to the bed.

Rava hadn’t moved. Not even a twitch. Still sprawled like some overly dramatic sea goddess who had personally hosted a hurricane, won, and then passed out in the wreckage with full dramatic flair. A sheet barely covered one thigh. One of her tentacles had wrapped itself around a pillow like it had abandonment issues. Another was lazily curling midair as if it, too, was contemplating the meaning of life. Or more likely, croissants.

”Nah...” Lux muttered out loud. ”For what?”

Instead, he reached for his phone. The screen lit up. One notification.

Naomi: So who is this lucky girl? Mira?

His thumb hovered over the keyboard, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Lux: Rava. But I still miss you. I mean... we can have a threesome together. Also, I just watched the TV. You look gorgeous.

He hit send with zero hesitation. Honestly, if he didn’t flirt like it was a strategic stock buyout, was he even alive?

”Damage done,” he said to the air, tossing the phone onto the sofa beside him like a satisfied investor post-hostile takeover.

He glanced back at the trolley full of breakfast.

He was tempted to wait for Rava. It felt... polite. Noble. Slightly romantic even.

But the golden glow of a croissant was peeking out from beneath a silver dome like temptation had gone to pastry school and graduated summa cum laude. And if Lux knew anything, it was that temptation was easier to resist when it wasn’t flaky and buttery and whispering ”eat me” with the scent of warm butter.

”Maybe just one,” he mumbled, already reaching.

He plucked a croissant with a reverent touch, lifted it to his lips, and took a bite.

Flaky. Warm. Crisp. But soft inside. A literal financial incentive in breakfast form.

”Mmmph,” he muttered through a mouthful. ”Criminally good.”

Still chewing, Lux wandered back toward the TV and leaned on the edge of the breakfast trolley like a boardroom CEO watching the fiscal year burn down. The screen flickered, shifting segments.

Now playing: ”Global Bank Consortium Faces Internal Audit Crisis—Speculation on Currency Backing Emerges.”

Well. That sounded mildly juicy.

A news anchor with aggressively perfect teeth and the type of voice that sounded like it had been hired straight from a crypto podcast was speaking now.

”Sources from inside the Global Bank Consortium have leaked internal documents suggesting discrepancies in currency reserve statements. The reports imply certain shadow accounts may have been used to artificially inflate digital liquidity, prompting speculation about a potential rollback of several international credit lines...”

Lux narrowed his eyes.

Oh, no.

Nope.

No, no, no, no.

We are not doing this.

But the mental gears had already started turning. Faster than they should’ve on a vacation morning. He could already see it. Clear as a Bloombeerg terminal in hell.

”Shadow accounts...” he repeated under his breath.

If those reserves collapse, smaller nations reliant on digital cash flow would pull out first. Panic in the east. Central banks trying to stabilize with gold. Meanwhile, if someone—say, someone with a very aggressive Greed System and just the right investment timing—stepped in and offered a backup bond structure...

He froze.

His grin curled slowly, devilishly, like a dragon noticing a pile of unattended treasure.

It was evil. It was genius. It was disturbingly profitable.

And it could work.

Lux blinked. Then blinked again. He was halfway through mentally drafting the white paper for a pseudo-currency stabilizer when he slammed the brakes.

”No. No. Nope,” he said sharply, slapping his own cheek with his croissant hand.

Crumbs went flying.

”Vacation mode, dammit!”

He stuffed the last bite of croissant into his mouth like a punishment and turned away from the TV before it could seduce him further with numbers and acronyms.

”I am not building a shadow reserve. I am not founding a rival central bank. I am not hijacking global monetary policy just because someone left the door open.”

He exhaled.

Then inhaled.

Then looked longingly back at the TV.

”...unless they really screw it up.”

No. No, no. Focus.

He turned around, hands on hips, the slight breeze from the open window ruffling the ends of his messy hair. His collarbone still itched faintly from dried lipstick and sin. The espresso cup in his hand was nearly empty.

He glanced at the bed again. Rava still hadn’t moved. A soft sigh escaped her lips, almost inaudible under the buzz of the city outside and the low murmur of finance hell playing on the TV.

Lux walked toward her slowly, dropped a gentle kiss on her shoulder, then turned and sat cross-legged on the floor beside the coffee table like some enlightened demon monk trying to resist insider trading with caffeine and willpower.

His phone buzzed.

A new notification from the system.

[You look stressed, sir. Wanna buy a country?]

Lux stared.

”...Don’t tempt me.”

[Too late.]

[Now loading potential acquisitions.]

”Nope! No. I’m logging off. Where’s the logout button for the brain?”

[Hint: It’s not croissants.]

Lux groaned and dropped back onto the carpet, legs sprawled, head resting against the cool edge of the couch.

He raised the coffee cup to the ceiling like a toast to poor decisions, flirtatious texts, international scandals, and hot sea monster girlfriends.

”Vacations are exhausting,” he muttered.

Lux was still on the floor, back against the couch, one knee bent like he might break into yoga or an existential spiral. He tilted his head back and let his skull thud gently against the wood frame. The carpet was too plush. The coffee was too rich. The silence was too loud.

He sipped again.

[You never had a vacation before, that’s why it’s exhausting.]

Lux squinted at nothing in particular. ”Yeah, now you know,” he muttered. ”So please... don’t do anything reckless. I don’t want any responsibility on Earth. I already have a lot of responsibility as it is...”

[Understood.]

The System’s voice lowered in tone like a responsible butler suddenly reminded he’s managing a noble with burnout issues.