Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 388 – Tearborn Pearl

The meal passed in stretches of quiet laughter and sharper edges of silence. Silver cutlery against porcelain. The faint clink of glasses. The occasional hum from Sira when the wine matched her palate just right.

Ariel ate delicately, like someone who hadn’t been allowed to enjoy food freely for too long—savoring each bite, shoulders loosening little by little.

Lux noticed every detail, though he didn’t say it out loud.

When the last dish was cleared and the servants slipped away like shadows, Mira set her glass down with a deliberate tap. The sound cut through the room, pulling attention her way.

”So...” Mira’s eyes slid toward Lux, then to Ariel. ”Are we going to discuss about her?”

Naomi, sitting across, dabbed her lips with her napkin. ”In front of her?” she asked, voice measured.

”Yes,” Lux said. His tone was calm but firm, like a verdict already written. ”Better than talking behind her back, right? And besides—she deserves to know what happened.”

Rava leaned forward, one tentacle curling around the stem of her glass. ”I agree. Especially since the Delmars...” She exhaled sharply, sharp teeth glinting. ”They’ve had their claws in high society for too long. They act like royalty when they’re not even close.”

Sira smirked, lazy but cruel. ”Impostors with pearls.”

”Mind to escalate?” Lux prompted smoothly, his red eyes flicking to Rava.

Rava inclined her head. ”Gladly. The Delmars are a siren family, not mermaids. Yet they’ve claimed for generations that their daughters produce better pearls than mermaids themselves, and with powers greater than any other sea-dwellers. While sirens can’t produce pearls at all...”

A sharp scoff slipped from Mira. She leaned back, eyes narrowing. ”Ugh. The Delmar young ladies are the worst. I’ve seen them at galas. Irritating doesn’t even begin to cover it. They strut around, looking down on everyone, acting untouchable—like they’re born higher than the rest of us. Even my bloodline doesn’t posture that way. Pride and dragons at least understand what power means. But the Delmars?” Her lip curled. ”That’s what happens when low-class upstarts climb too fast. They cheat. They lie. And they have no idea how to behave once they’re up there. They don’t understand how society actually works. How networking and respect function. They just... flaunt.”

Rava chuckled darkly. ”Exactly. And worse? They sell enchanted pearls.” Her eyes flicked toward Lux. ”Rare ones.”

Mira’s smirk sharpened. ”Unfortunately... true.”

”Unfortunately?” Lux asked, one brow arching.

Mira’s answer was to slip her hand into the ether pocket of her gown. She drew out a small velvet box, black with gilded edges. She set it on the table with a delicate tap, then slid it open.

Inside, nestled against dark silk, sat a pearl.

Not just any pearl.

It gleamed faintly from within, like moonlight captured and solidified, its glow subtle but undeniable. The surface was so flawless it almost looked unreal, smooth as glass but alive with a soft shimmer.

The air itself seemed to hush.

Rava tilted her head. ”Well, well.”

Naomi leaned closer, her brows lifting. ”Oh, this is the first time I see it upclose.”

Mira’s voice was cool, but there was an edge beneath. ”Yes. I bought it. Out of curiosity. Wanted to see if the rumors were real.”

A soft gasp broke from Ariel. Her hands trembled where they clutched her napkin. Her eyes—wide, disbelieving—locked on the pearl.

”...Ah.” Her voice was so small it nearly disappeared. ”That’s my pearl.”

The words stilled the room.

Lux’s gaze sharpened.

Ariel’s breath shuddered. She nodded, tears prickling. ”It... it was made from my tears.”

The silence after that was heavy.

Rava broke it first, leaning back with a grim smile. ”As expected.”

Naomi immediately reached across, laying her hand gently over Ariel’s. ”Hey. Easy. You don’t need to—”

But Rava’s voice cut through, sharper. ”So. The Delmars kidnapped her from Avariel. Kept her hidden. Forced her to cry, to bleed pearls like this—harvested them. Sold them. Abused her.” Her tentacle tightened around her glass stem, the crystal creaking faintly. ”And when she couldn’t produce anymore, when her body gave out, they threw her away?”

She glanced toward Lux, seeking confirmation.

Lux’s jaw was tight. He nodded once. ”Yes.”

He reached forward, plucking the pearl from the velvet box with careful fingers. The cool weight of it sat in his palm, gleaming under the chandelier. For a moment, he simply studied it. His red eyes reflected its light like currency.

His system flared to life in his mind’s eye, text appearing sharp and clear.

[Item Name: Tearborn Pearl (Enchanted)]

[Grade: Legendary (Unique)]

[Origin: Mermaid Bloodline – Avariel Variant]

[Properties:

-Formed from the crystallized tears of a mermaid of rare lineage.

-Enchanted with natural mana, capable of amplifying water-based magic by 300%.

-Can stabilize unstable mana pools when embedded in runic cores.

-Once drained, may not be restored.]

[Warning: Exploitation of Tearborn Pearl producers destabilizes their mana core permanently.]

Lux’s lips thinned.

”Yeah,” he said finally, voice quiet but carrying. ”This is indeed rare.”

Ariel looked down, shame flooding her cheeks, but Lux’s eyes didn’t leave the pearl. His fingers curled around it, slow.

Rare. Priceless. Exploitable.

He set it back into the velvet box like it weighed more than gold bullion, snapping it shut with a quiet click. His voice, when it came, was calm. Too calm.

”I’ve already sent a message to the Avariel,” Lux said, eyes flicking between them, ”but they haven’t given me any response yet.”

Rava’s tentacle uncurled from her glass, brushing the rim before she smirked. ”I can help you with that. Setting up a meet. Greasing the right palms. Whispering to the right ears.”

”Tomorrow?” Lux asked, tone as casual as if he were negotiating lunch reservations.

Rava tapped her lip thoughtfully. ”I guess I could arrange that. The Avariel are secretive. They don’t trust easily. Let alone someone who’s... new to this city.”

Lux hummed low, a sound that felt like interest sharpened into strategy. ”True. I should make more appearances in high society, shouldn’t I?”

Mira let out a very unladylike snort. ”You already are a talk.” She leaned her chin into her palm, smirk curling. ”In housewives’ group chats.”

Naomi nearly choked on her wine. ”She’s not wrong. And modeling too. Fiera told me. Apparently, the fashion feeds are eating you alive.”