Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 399: Wardrobe Casualties
Chapter 399 – Wardrobe Casualties
Lux shook his head, chuckling despite himself. "She’s going to kill me. Slowly. Joyfully. And I’m just gonna... let her."
His reflection in the mirror grinned back, wicked and tired and still glowing faintly with infernal heat.
He muttered one last time, voice low, resigned, and amused all at once.
"Damn it. I like this dragon too much."
He glanced down at the floor and spotted his pants in a crumpled heap. He bent to grab them, groaning as his spine cracked, then pulled them on with a slow, deliberate movement that made him wince.
The shirt was another story.
He lifted the black silk mess from the carpet, held it up to the light, and cringed. Long claw marks sliced right down the back, neat in their savagery, his wings having poked through the shredded fabric like it was paper.
"Uh." Lux blinked at it, deadpan. "Okay. That’s gone. Definitely gone."
He tossed it aside with the air of a man resigning himself to wardrobe casualties. He’d burned through worse in battles. But this was sex. Sex shouldn’t need new clothes.
[Correction. That was not sex. That was a full-scale siege by one Eastern Dragon heiress. Property damage: one silk shirt, several sheets, and your dignity.]
Lux rolled his eyes. "I didn’t ask for a report."
[Apologies, sir. I assumed you would want the post-mortem.]
Lux snorted, shaking his head. He was about to shift back into his human disguise when he caught sight of his wings in the mirror.
He froze.
Marks.
Her claw marks had raked right across the joints. Thin, glowing lines, not fully healed yet. His incubus regeneration was knitting them back together in slow pulses, skin stitching, membrane sealing. But the evidence lingered. Mira had left marks on his wings.
Lux hissed through his teeth, flexing them gently. "She was that wild."
His mind flicked, unbidden, to Sira. Pride incarnate. Her passion wasn’t soft, never gentle, but it was elegant. A battlefield in high heels. She cut you with grace, not claws.
Mira? Mira was a beast. Scales, teeth, hunger. She’d devoured him like gold she couldn’t get enough of. And somehow, Lux liked both flavors. Too much.
He sighed, leaning against the wall, running a hand through his wrecked hair. "Alright. Lesson learned. Mira has another side. Dragon side." He smirked faintly. And last night, she agreed to the contract. She was his now. Officially.
The thought made his chest warm. Ownership, yes. But not one-sided. She’d claimed him too, in her own way.
Lux muttered to himself, inspecting the faint glow of his healing wings. "Okay. Just... need to let these out until they’re done regenerating." He flexed them once, wincing. "Great. No disguises for now."
He straightened up, stretching his back, wincing again. "But first things first..." His stomach growled, his head throbbed, and his tongue felt like sand. "Coffee. I need coffee. If I don’t get caffeine, I’ll die before Mira even wakes up."
Teleportation shimmered around him, dark light bending like folded silk.
A blink later, he stood in the hall near the dining room.
The mansion was quiet. Too quiet. He glanced at the clock as he made his way toward the kitchen—6 AM. No wonder. Everyone else was still asleep, curled in their beds, while he looked like he’d crawled out of a warzone.
He trudged into the kitchen, wings dragging, his bare chest still marked up. His horns gleamed faintly under the lamplight. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮
Lyra was there.
The head maid, precise as always, sleeves rolled back, arranging fruit in a crystal bowl. Her movements were crisp, efficient, elegant—until she turned and saw him.
Her eyes went wide.
Not at the horns. Not at the wings.
No, it was his state.
He looked like he’d been clawed through, bitten, dragged across silk and left to smolder. His hair was a disaster, his lips swollen, his skin glowing with faint marks of regeneration. He looked less like the mansion’s master and more like someone who had fought a warlord with his bare hands.
"...My lord?" Lyra’s voice broke, her composure cracking for the first time since he’d known her. "You... you look as though you’ve been attacked."
Lux dragged a hand down his face, groaning. "Not attacked. Hoarded."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Never mind." He staggered toward the counter, muttering, "Coffee. Please. Anything dark. Anything strong."
Lyra hesitated, still staring at the bite marks on his shoulders, the half-healed claw rakes across his chest. "Should I call for—"
"No." He waved her off, flopping into a chair with all the grace of a fallen general. His wings spread across the backrest like tattered banners. "Don’t ask questions. Just coffee."
She swallowed hard, nodded quickly, and hurried to prepare it.
Lux leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. His body ached, his mind buzzed, but under it all, he felt... amused. Almost proud.
[Lux Vaelthorn’s current state: ’Hot Mess.’ Survival probability until next dragon encounter: 62%. Coffee will raise odds by 14%.]
Lux chuckled hoarsely, smirking. His body still ached like hell, but the kind of ache that came wrapped in satisfaction. He leaned back in the chair, wings drooping lazily across the polished wood, and muttered, "You know... rather than that, how about you give me a proper report of my status? I completely ignored your report yesterday."
The system responded immediately, crisp as a butler reading a ledger aloud.
[Name: Lux Vaelthorn]
[Level: 275]
[HP: 1,450,000]
[DP: 550,000]
[Charisma: 999 (Max)]
[Magic Affinity: 1,120]
[Strength: 840]
[Agility: 960]
+15% Resistance to Light-Based Status Effects
+10% Spell Damage vs Celestial Targets
+12% Physical Attack
+10% Magical Attack
+15% Physical Defense
+12% Magical Defense
Lux’s lips curled as he read the glowing script hanging in his mind’s eye. "Oh great. Never thought sex would level me up this fast."
His voice was dry, almost amused, but his eyes flicked with calculation. He tapped his fingers against the table, sharp nails clicking against the lacquered wood in rhythm. Level 275. Not a small jump. Still, he knew damn well leveling from intimacy wasn’t the same as blood-soaked combat.
