Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

He wanted to see her.

To make sure she was real.

To remind himself that something in his life wasn't a contract or a vault or a celestial landmine waiting to explode.

But just before he activated the teleport skill, the universe did what it did best…

Interrupted him.

"Sir! Excuse me!"

A voice. Fast. Human. Clumsy.

Lux turned with the smooth grace of someone whose patience had been balancing on a coin edge for several days.

A young man ran up to him.

Lux scanned him from head to toe.

Nothing remarkable.

Mortal.

Not rich. Not glowing. Not tagged with any infernal residue.

"Who are you?" Lux asked, calm but sharp.

The man stopped a few feet away, hands slightly raised like he was worried Lux would bite. His jeans were slightly torn, his shirt faded from too many washes. Definitely not a demon or assassin. Just… a guy. Human. Mortal. Breathless from the run.

"It's me," the man said, voice hopeful, familiar. "The musician. You helped me, like, a couple of days ago. You gave me money for listening to my music."

Lux squinted. Then his memory clicked into place.

"Oh. You. That guy." He lifted a brow. "The broke guy who played music in front of the cursed building. Right?"

The guy gave an awkward laugh, like someone trying to chuckle while choking on embarrassment. "Uh, yeah. That's me."

He stepped closer and offered a hand. "I… My name is Miles Carter, sir."

Lux stared at the hand for half a second, then shook it. It was warm. Calloused. Slightly sweaty. Honest.

"I just wanted to say thank you," Miles went on quickly. "I—I tried playing somewhere else. A better crowd. And it worked. I got more money. Not a ton, but enough to get me through. And, um, yesterday, an influencer guy spotted me. He recorded me playing and sang with me. This morning, he called. Said the video exploded. Thousands of views already. He even started a GoFundForMe thing to help me."

Lux blinked. "You got viral."

Miles nodded rapidly. "I did! And… I followed your advice from that day too. I took a bit of the tip money and bought some music tech stocks. It's not much, like… like fifteen dollars profit. Maybe it's nothing for someone like you, but for me? It's the first time I made money without playing my guitar or begging for it."

Lux's gaze softened, even if his posture didn't.

"Good to hear that," he said. "Congratulations."

Miles scratched the back of his neck. "So, uh. I was wondering. If… If I could buy you dinner. As a thank-you. Just something small."

Lux tilted his head slightly, amused.

"Dinner?"

Miles glanced down at Lux's tailored coat, at the branded shoes that probably cost more than his life saving. His eyes flicked up again, nervous.

"Uh—I mean snacks? Or coffee? Tea? It's night already, so maybe not dinner-dinner. I just wanted to say thank you. Properly. But I know I probably can't afford your usual places, so…"

He trailed off, visibly bracing himself for rejection or mockery.

Lux was quiet.

He looked at Miles. Really looked.

The man had barely anything. No aura of power. No divine or demonic scent. Just raw, simple, human… sincerity. The kind that people like Lux almost forgot existed. Miles wasn't trying to impress him. Wasn't trying to curry favor. He just… wanted to thank someone. Even if it made no financial sense.

It was absurd.

A guy with barely enough money for tomorrow… offering coffee to a prince of greed who could buy empires, souls, and stockpiles of infernal-grade espresso beans on a whim.

And yet…

Lux didn't feel mocked.

Didn't feel pity, either.

He felt… entertained.

"Fine," Lux said at last. "Let's have a coffee."

Miles blinked. "Really?"

"Your choice," Lux said, buttoning his coat lazily. "I won't complain."

The place Miles brought him to wasn't even a café, really. More like a glorified hole-in-the-wall with a blinking neon sign that just said HOT COF because the last letters had burned out. The interior had four mismatched chairs, one tired-looking barista, and a scent of burnt beans and desperation.

They walked in. Lux immediately looked like he'd stepped off a red carpet and accidentally entered a gas station bathroom.

The barista blinked at him.

Miles smiled sheepishly and pointed Lux toward the cracked menu on the wall.

"What do you want to drink? My treat."

Lux scanned the chalkboard menu. Prices hovered around two bucks for most items, except the "special latte," which probably meant it hadn't killed anyone yet.

He glanced at Miles, who was shifting his weight, clearly nervous. That kind of nervous that came from knowing your wallet was gasping and still offering what little it had.

Lux looked back at the menu. Then picked the most merciful option.

"Americano."

Just that. Plain. Hot. Bitter.

Miles visibly relaxed. "Cool. That's… great."

The barista scribbled it down, then asked, "Anything else?"

Miles smiled. "Nope, that's all."

Lux blinked. "You're not getting anything for yourself?"

"I'm on a budget," Miles said simply. "Need to save a bit for lunch tomorrow."

Lux didn't respond right away. He just stared at him. Then gave a quiet, amused huff.

"Oh."

They took a seat near the window. One of the chairs wobbled slightly every time Miles shifted. Lux leaned back in his, legs crossed, watching the steam curl from his paper cup.

"So," Lux said. "You're the kind of guy who tries to give back even when he's broke?"

Miles looked embarrassed. "Well. Yeah. I mean… you helped me. Even if you don't remember most of it."

"I remember," Lux said. "You played in a spot with a cursed building behind you and expected miracles."

Miles laughed. "Yeah… That sounds about right."

Lux sipped his Americano. It tasted like scorched anxiety and second chances.

They sat in silence for a moment, the soft hum of the overhead fluorescent light buzzing like a dying mosquito. The night outside was cool and quiet, and for once, Lux didn't feel like running toward the next crisis or cash flow.

Just… sitting.

In a place that sold 99-cent donuts and lukewarm dreams.

With a man who had nothing, and still gave what he had.