Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 155: I’m Not Your Apocalypse

Chapter 155 – I’m Not Your Apocalypse

The impact drove Lux back a half step, his boots carving crescent skids across the asphalt. Sparks bloomed where their weapons clashed. His wrist throbbed.

Then wind...

The woman appeared out of the veil like a whisper. She was mid-spin already, her foot arcing in a crescent of pale flame. Lux twisted just enough. His other blade sliced through the air, catching her ankle in a parry that felt like catching a comet.

Another sound. A whoosh and a crackle. Her magic sparked in the air—heatless, white, and wrong.

The force of it staggered him back again. His shoulder slammed into a lamp post, bending the steel with a metallic groan. Corvus let out a sharp caw from above.

’You’re getting sloppy, boss.’

Lux bared his teeth.

"System," he growled.

[Yes? May I suggest dodging more creatively?]

"Analyze. Full detail. I want race, affinity, skills, and faction records. Now."

[Of course. Because asking politely was too exhausting.]

The sarcasm was dry enough to flake his soul.

Still, the scan ran.

Lux surged forward. The system hummed in his skull like a predator’s purr.

He clenched both daggers and activated his Agility skill.

The world snapped.

Colors bled into speed. Sound bent. His next breath came in fragments as demonic power flooded every joint, every tendon, every flick of movement. His body blurred—no longer dancing but erasing distance.

The man didn’t see the strike coming.

Lux twisted mid-air, blade flashing upward in a diagonal arc. It forced him to step back—or risk losing half his face.

The woman reacted instantly—her hand already glowing, summoning an arc of fragmented flame—but Lux ducked low and swept his heel beneath her, dragging her weight off balance. She flipped instead, graceful, inhuman.

"Cute," Lux muttered. "But you’re not the first church-bred banshee I’ve fought."

[Scan complete.]

[Target 1: Name Unknown]

[Class Designation – Highlord Demon (Variant).]

[Level: 234.]

[Affinity: Chaos / Hunger Manipulation]

[Bloodline: Partially Obscured. Likely Descendant of the Ninth Pillar.]

[Status: Body composed of 70% shadow shell.]

[Target 2: Name Unknown]

[Class Designation – Highlord Demon (Variant).]

[Level: 231.]

[Affinity: Chaos / Ritual Flame]

[Bloodline: Obscured. Holy-Demonic trait detected.]

[Status: Shadow shell in use. Real body projected in real-time.]

[Faction Affiliation: The Marginal Accord.]

[Status: Non-aligned. Off-grid. Political influence minimal. Risk rating... severe.]

Lux blinked.

The Marginal Accord?

Corvus read it too, his voice low.

’That’s not a real faction. It’s a theory. A myth. The rumor about outcasts who broke ties with Hell and Heaven both.’

Lux steadied his stance, eyes locked onto the two.

"I have no problem with your faction," he said slowly. "So why test me?"

The man tilted his head again. His voice had that same eerie, dragged-across-coal depth.

"We didn’t come for violence. Just information."

"You call this information gathering?"

"It’s effective."

The woman’s eyes glinted with something unreadable. Curiosity? Malice? It was hard to tell when she looked like she’d been painted in bone and fire.

"Your system’s very accurate," she said.

’They know I have a system?’ Lux thought. But despite his surprise, he didn’t show it.

He spun his dagger once in hand. "It’s also very stabby."

"No need," she said smoothly. "We just wanted to know if the rumors were true." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

"What rumors?" Lux asked, voice colder now.

The man stepped forward again, eyes never leaving Lux’s.

"That something is changing. That one of Greed’s bloodline... is shifting the axis."

Lux’s eyes narrowed again. "So you came to what? Take notes? Sniff my aura and guess my net worth?"

"No," the woman said softly. "We came to see if you were awake yet."

That stopped him for half a beat.

The wind rustled behind him, unnatural again. Like it passed through too many timelines before arriving here. The neon lights of the city were flickering—subtle, rhythmic. Like something was breathing beneath the concrete.

Lux slowly retracted his daggers. He didn’t dismiss them—just lowered them.

"I’m not your prophecy," he said. "I’m not your apocalypse."

"Maybe not," the man agreed. "But you’re close enough to cause one."

Corvus muttered from above. ’They’re poking the cage. Seeing how loud you can roar.’

Lux chuckled darkly.

He took one step forward.

His suit flared. Glitching slightly.

Then ignited.

Not with flame. With transformation.

[You have activated your Battle Form.]

Black tendrils coiled up from his boots. His tie unraveled and morphed. Mana wrapped his limbs in burning chains of shadow-threaded metal. His designer blazer snapped outward, then fused into armored plating that clung like a second skin.

Infernal armor. Regal. Demonic. Vicious.

Two horns curled upward from his head—smooth, obsidian, pulsing faintly.

His wings tore into existence next—jagged, leather-dark, edges shimmering with molten gold.

He opened his eyes again.

And smiled.

"Now," he said, voice deeper, lined with layered harmonics, "I’m clock in."

The woman didn’t flinch.

But the man’s jaw tensed just slightly.

"You don’t get to shadow-stalk me in my city," Lux said, stepping closer. "You don’t send carcasses to snipe from the dark. You show up, or you stay forgotten."

The man exhaled. Not in fear—but maybe... in respect.

The woman murmured, almost fondly. "We’ll see about that."

Lux’s grin sharpened.

"That’s what they all say," he said. "Right before I bankrupt their kingdoms."

Then— In a blink, he moved.

Agility spiked. Time bent.

His dagger met the woman’s throat—not cutting, just resting there. A heartbeat’s pressure.

The man turned, barely managing to block Amare inches from his ribs.

Lux stood between them. Wings spread. Armor glowing with red veins. Breath even.

"I’m done playing ambassador," Lux said flatly. "Get out of my city. Or stay and explain what the hell your little Accord is planning."

The woman’s smile returned.

This time, it didn’t reach her eyes.

No quip. No smug reply. Just the kind of look someone gives a puzzle right before breaking it in half.

Lux shifted his weight, the asphalt beneath his boots hissing as residual heat from his armor sizzled against the cooling street. The city air had gone dense again—electric, charged. Like a second thunderstorm was building, only this time the clouds were dressed in formalwear and bringing daggers.

And just like that, they moved.

No signal. No prep.

Just violence.

The man came first.