Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 368 – The Royal House of Sloth

The portal hissed open like a lazy yawn—fitting, honestly. The Sloth estate didn’t bother with grandeur. Just a ripple in the air, a curl of dream-scented mist, and a hallway that looked like someone halfway remembered what palaces were supposed to look like. Everything was soft. Dim. Quiet.

Sira stepped through in heels far too sharp for the velvet moss underfoot, her Pride aura trailing behind her like perfume. She didn’t adjust to the atmosphere. The atmosphere adjusted to her.

Every step echoed more than it should’ve, because no one walked here quickly. Or confidently. Or with purpose.

Which was probably why the attendants she passed blinked at her like she’d just rolled in on a war chariot.

She smiled at them.

Sharp. Gorgeous. Arrogant.

Then dismissed them without a word.

The Royal House of Sloth.

So peaceful. So passive.

So disgustingly dependent.

Sira hated it.

Not for the usual demon reasons—she could tolerate laziness in moderation. But this place? This realm? These people had built their entire existence on depending on one single girl to keep their failing systems running.

And that girl?

Was the exact reason Sira was here.

”Lullaby,” she purred under her breath, like saying her name might summon her with a giggle and a yawn.

And, honestly?

She wasn’t far off.

A door—half open, half-forgotten—swayed gently with a breath of magic. Past it... a room bathed in moonlight, all pillows and floor couches, books stacked like teetering dreams and tea cups with barely-sipped drinks long gone cold.

In the middle of it all, curled up in a nest of blankets with her cheeks puffed and her feet bare, was her.

Lullaby.

Daughter of Sloth.

The sweetest, softest, sleepiest damn creature Sira had ever loathed and adored.

She looked like a dream. Fluffy pale hair, skin kissed with dew, nightgown wrinkled and oversized. A half-eaten peach lay beside her like she’d forgotten it mid-thought.

She blinked once.

Twice.

And then smiled.

”Siraaaa,” she sang, voice sleepy and sugar-spun.

Sira arched a brow and crossed her arms. ”You didn’t even look surprised.”

”You’re loud,” Lullaby giggled, sitting up and stretching her arms like a lazy kitten. ”I heard your ego three rooms away.”

Sira snorted. ”Flattering. Now get dressed. We’re leaving.”

Lullaby tilted her head. ”Leaving?”

”Yes. Mortal world. You’re coming with me.”

Lullaby blinked. ”Why?”

”Because I need you.”

Another blink. ”For what?”

”For someone who needs you,” Sira said simply.

Lullaby yawned, then reached for a pillow and hugged it to her chest. ”Is it Lux?”

Sira’s jaw twitched. ”...Yes.”

Lullaby’s cheeks flushed. Not red, but pink. Soft pink. Like her entire bloodline was too delicate for full-blown embarrassment.

”Oh,” she mumbled, twirling a lock of her hair. ”I like Lux. He’s nice. And shiny. And smart. And his suits smell like expensive danger.”

Sira rolled her eyes so hard she nearly strained something. ”Yes, yes. He’s a walking billboard for sinful excellence. But this isn’t a date. It’s business.”

Lullaby looked up, serious for half a second. ”Someone’s hurt?”

Sira hesitated.

Then nodded. ”Yes.”

”And she’s mortal?”

”She’s something more,” Sira said, tone quieter now. ”But she’s... broken. We don’t fix things. But you?”

She looked Lullaby straight in the eye.

”You soothe them.”

The room fell silent.

Even the floating tea tray paused in mid-air.

Lullaby sat there, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Her expression twisted—not in confusion, but in that peculiar weight only Sloth children understood. The weight of being the softest pillow in a house full of collapsing empires.

”I can’t leave,” she said finally. ”They need me.”

”They always need you,” Sira snapped, stepping forward. ”You’re the only one here keeping the whole house from sliding into bankruptcy and coma. You patch their debt books. You stabilize their power wells. You sing the children to sleep for the entire fcking wing, Lullaby.”

Lullaby winced. ”Don’t yell.”

Sira knelt in front of her.

Not angrily.

Not even arrogantly.

Just... real.

”Lullaby,” Sira said, voice lowering into a silken drawl, ”they’ll always need you. You know that. They’ll cling to your lullabies until their bones turn to ash. But right now... he needs you.”

She stepped closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from Lullaby’s cheek with the back of her fingers, voice dipped in honey.

”There’s a girl in the mortal realm. Lost. Fragile. So easy to break.” Her smile sharpened. ”And he’s the one keeping her safe. Lux.”

Lullaby’s breath caught, just a little.

Sira leaned in. ”She sleeps in his house, you know. Under his roof. In a bed he gave her.” Her tone turned whisper-soft. ”Don’t you want to see what kind of girl he bothers to protect?”

Lullaby’s cheeks turned pink. Since Demons... Demons didn’t protect.

”I thought you’d be curious,” Sira murmured with a slow, satisfied smirk. ”After all... you’re the only one who ever got to hear his dreams.”

Lullaby looked at her hands. Her breathing slowed. That strange stillness wrapped around her again. Not fear. Not resistance.

Just... thought.

Then she nodded once.

”Okay.”

Sira blinked. ”Okay?”

Lullaby smiled again, sleepy but sure. ”If Lux asked, I’ll go.”

Sira stood, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt. ”Of course he did. The bastard never asks anyone but me. Special privileges.”

”Because you’re scary,” Lullaby frowned.

”I’m not scary,” Sira muttered.

”You bite people with your words.”

”Only the stupid ones.”

”I like that.”

Sira smirked. ”You’re not stupid. So don’t test me.”

Lullaby hopped up and padded barefoot across the room. The floor adjusted to her step, moss blooming under her toes. She plucked a ribbon from the air—genuine realm-thread—and tied it in her hair with practiced ease.

Then she turned to Sira and tilted her head. ”Can I bring my bunny?”

”No.”

Lullaby pouted.

”Fine. You can bring your bunny,” Sira relented. ”But not the stuffed corpse plushie. It freaks out mortals.”

”He has feelings.”

”He has buttons for eyes.”

”He’s seen things.”

Sira groaned and reached for her wrist. ”Fine. One bunny. But if he starts talking, I’m setting him on fire.”

Lullaby giggled.

The portal shimmered open behind them—Sira’s personal tether to Lux’s mortal-bound estate. Tightly calibrated. Only enough bandwidth for two.

And through it, the scent of salt and wine and something not quite home.

Lullaby paused before stepping through.

”Will she be scared of me?” she asked.

”Probably,” Sira said. ”You’re terrifying in your own way.”

”Should I sing to her?”

”Not the death songs.”

”Okay.”

Sira rolled her eyes and shoved her forward.

The portal hissed shut behind them.