Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation-Chapter 87: Better Options Exist

Chapter 87 – Better Options Exist

"Would you like it moved to the underground garage?"

"Nah," Lux said, swinging a leg over and settling into the seat like it was made for him. "I’ll take it from here."

The moment he touched the handlebar, the bike hummed. The scent of ozone, infernal oil, and magic swirled in the air.

One of the staff members swallowed hard. "It’s... warm."

"She’s excited," Lux said, grinning.

He revved once. The engine didn’t growl—it purred. Deep. Powerful. Confident.

Lux looked at the receptionist who’d called earlier. "Thanks for the wake-up call."

The man blinked. "You... sound very rested, sir."

Lux’s smile was pure devil. "You have no idea."

And with that, he sped off—gold accents gleaming, hotel staff staring, and one girl from the elevator peeking through the glass doors like she’d just witnessed something sacred.

Lux didn’t look back.

The engine’s purr turned into a smooth growl as the motorcycle glided out of the hotel’s roundabout. Morning sunlight bounced off the chrome-gold trim, scattering flecks of reflected light across the pavement.

The air tasted different here—brighter, dustier, tinged with engine oil and bakery sugar. The mortal realm had its own flavor, like burnt coffee and new money and something slightly chaotic humming under the skin of the city.

He took a slow turn down a wide boulevard lined with jacaranda trees, lavender petals fluttering in his wake like soft confetti. This was the first time he’d actually ridden a mortal motorcycle.

And he loved it.

The difference was instant.

No void engines.

No infernal gravity regulators.

Just him, the machine, and asphalt. There was something raw about it.

Tactile.

Honest.

The rumble under his legs wasn’t power—it was presence. He could feel every bump, every curve. His shirt flapped slightly in the wind, still half unbuttoned, and the scent of sex hadn’t fully faded from his skin.

Not that he cared.

He grinned under the helmet, twisted the throttle slightly, and let the bike surge forward down the main road. Buildings blurred past. Billboards screamed in high-def. Pedestrians gawked as he passed. Most of them caught on the bike, but a few lingered on the rider. Lux could feel their stares brush against his skin like stray wind.

He couldn’t push the speed too far. The traffic laws here were, unfortunately, enforced. And causing a multi-car pileup his first morning out wasn’t high on his bucket list. Not before lunch, anyway.

The red light gleamed ahead.

He slowed, rolling smoothly into position at the head of the lane, the motorcycle humming beneath him like it was eager to sprint again.

And then—of course—the universe decided to hand him a side quest.

A second motorcycle pulled up beside him. Sleek. Shiny. Red, with blue LED underglow and too many stickers screaming sponsored mediocrity. The guy riding it was all sunglasses, flexed biceps, and sleeveless jacket—one of those try-hard, "alpha" types who shaved his stubble to look unshaven and probably paid for fake followers.

The girl on the back was scrolling on her phone, a compact mirror balanced in one hand, applying lipstick without even glancing at the world around her. High cheekbones. Clean tan. Red lips. Designer knockoff bag.

Lux gave it three seconds before—

"Yo," the guy said, voice cocky and just loud enough to be heard over the engines. "You get dressed in the dark, man?"

Lux didn’t look at him immediately. Just kept staring straight ahead, visor down. The traffic light ticked in its silent countdown.

Mr. Overcompensating continued. "I mean, badass bike, don’t get me wrong, but that shirt?" He gave a snort. "Looks like you lost a fight with a laundry machine and forgot the button part of existence."

Lux tilted his head slightly. Still said nothing.

The guy grinned wider. "You some rich kid playing rebel? That it? Daddy buy that bike? Thought it’d help get you laid?"

The girl finally glanced up from her makeup mirror, eyes flicking to Lux’s figure. Slowly. Curiously. Her expression didn’t change, but her lips paused in mid-glide.

Lux smirked under the visor. Then, calmly, slowly, he lifted one gloved hand, clicked the helmet latch, and flipped the visor up.

The sunlight caught his face.

Disheveled. Beautiful. Slightly flushed from the ride. Hair wind-tousled. Eyes still faintly red. Collarbone marked faintly red. Lips parted like he’d just come from—

He had, actually.

"Morning," Lux said, voice rich and lazy. "Didn’t realize they let background characters speak first these days."

The guy blinked. "Excuse me?"

Lux stretched his neck, then glanced over, really looking at the guy for the first time. "No offense. It’s just... You’re doing the whole budget Rider movie cosplay thing. Makes me think maybe this is your weekly side quest for male validation."

The girl snorted. Covered it with a cough. But her eyes didn’t leave Lux.

Lux gestured casually to his own chest, where the shirt was open just enough to hint at the mess he hadn’t bothered to wash off. "Besides," he added, "I’d rather look like I just escaped a sin-drenched fever dream than wear a sleeveless jacket that screams ’sponsored by protein powder and bad decisions.’"

Mr. Overcompensating’s jaw worked. "You think you’re funny, huh?"

"No," Lux said smoothly. "I know I’m hot. The funny is just a hobby."

The girl gave a short, surprised laugh. Her lipstick paused. Then slowly, she slid the mirror back into her purse and leaned just slightly closer, resting her hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder—though her gaze never left Lux.

Lux tilted his head toward her. "You doing okay there, miss? You look like you just remembered better options exist."

She smiled faintly. "I’m fine now."

"Glad to hear it," Lux said, voice dipped in charm. "If you get tired of inflated egos and dead protein farts, I hear there’s a real breakfast in the area."

Mr. Protein Shakes growled. "You better watch your—"

Green light.

Lux’s grin sharpened.

He revved the bike—smooth and effortless—and rocketed forward before the guy could finish his sentence, the sound of the engine screaming power and seduction all at once.

Wind whipped against him. City blocks blurred past again.

But that last look the girl gave him—eyes wide, mouth parted just enough—lingered longer than the light.

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