Chapter 254 – Balancing Karma
For the rest of the morning, Lux was a whirlwind of efficiency disguised as laziness.
Sure, he didn’t technically have any luggages—what kind of self-respecting Greed-born demon carried a huge suitcase when he had dinsional storage?
But he had more than enough clutter. The pile of luxury shopping bags, a heap of tailored jackets he hadn’t even bothered to remove the tags from, boxes of cologne that slled like lust bottled for export.
All of it went into the pocket dinsion with a casual flick of his wrist. A neat perk of being Greed Royal. He could hoard the entire GDP of a small country inside an invisible vault and still walk around hands free, looking like he only owned a coffee cup.
He chuckled as the last shopping bag disappeared into storage. ’Minimalist lifestyle,’ he thought dryly.
Then ca the bath.
Lux stripped out of his crumpled shirt and stepped into the steaming water, hissing when the first touch of heat lapped over his skin. He sank down with a long exhale, letting the warmth pull the tension out of his shoulders. His reflection in the water rippled—and there they were.
Sira’s marks.
Everywhere.
Bites at his collarbone like signatures on a contract. Bruises along his thighs like deliberate bookkeeping entries. Scratches across his ribs that spelled out in silent ink ’yes, I took him, yes, he fucked , yes, Pride always wins’.
"Ruthless woman," he muttered, scrubbing at one particularly sharp bite near his hip. It wasn’t coming off, obviously. Pride demons didn’t leave temporary proofs—they left statents. And the statent was clear ’I rode him like it was fiscal year-end and I had bonuses to secure’.
He tilted his head back against the marble lip of the tub, chuckling under his breath. "She basically left a quarterly report on my body."
Still, part of him didn’t hate it. He hated that he didn’t hate it.
Steam fogged the mirrors. The scent of soap mixed with faint traces of sulfur, cedarwood, and Sira’s perfu that still clung stubbornly to his skin.
There wasn’t ti to linger.
So, while water dripped down his jaw, he summoned the translucent grid of his Infernal Finance System. Numbers scrolled like stock tickers across the steam. Hell’s economy laid out like a chessboard. Tribute inflows, underworld trade routes, contracts leveraged, debtors screaming in neatly boxed red fonts.
[Departnt Status – Autopilot Engaged]
[No anomalies detected.]
[All major investnts stable.]
Lux grinned. "Beautiful. Self-sustaining corruption. My favorite kind."
He flicked through departnts, cross-checking what his staff had done while he was busy being... mounted. Everything ran smooth. No fires. No celestial audits. No Lords demanding ergency etings.
Probably, because Zavros—his dear father, lord of Greed—was currently sulking. Lux didn’t need the system to know where.
If Zavros wasn’t in a casino, he was in Lust’s lap. And Lust’s lap ant Lux’s mother. And Lux’s mother ant Zavros was—Lux grimaced—probably distracted in ways Lux didn’t want to picture.
"Ugh," Lux muttered, rubbing at his temple. "He’s probably crying into her tits about disrespecting him." Well, he made the elevator door close in front of him, twice. This ti, with the daughter of pride in his arms. Yeah, the sulking was kinda acceptable.
Teenage rebellion phase? No. He was past that.
This was the ’I’ve had enough of your bullshit’ phase. And it ca with a delightful bonus. He could now abandon Hell’s finance departnt and still have it run better than his father ever did.
"Efficiency is sexy," he murmured, closing the system panel.
By noon, his focus shifted to sothing far more critical than ledgers. Servants.
Lux needed infernal attendants to move into the mortal world. So... They had to be non-hostile—at least on paper—loyal, combat-ready in case a celestial raid or bounty hunters decided to ruin dinner, and discreet enough not to sprout horns or tails in front of the neighbors. A cook who doubled as an assassin, a maid who knew how to counterspell holy wards, a gardener who could slaughter angels and demons with a rake.
Lux skimd through his ntal roster. A few nas stood out. He’d summon them later in the mansion once wards were in place. For now, it was enough to know he had a shortlist.
He dressed sharp. Dark suit, crisp shirt, cuffs undone just enough to say ’I make money while you breathe’. Hair styled like he didn’t care but secretly did. A demon CFO on vacation. The kind mortals would kill to copy, and demons would kill to dethrone.
Before leaving, Lux pulled out a crisp note and set it beside a stack of mortal bills.
1,000$.
Clean, untraceable, stacked like it was pocket lint.
On the paper he scribbled.
"For appreciation. Don’t bother with receipts."
The cleaning staff would find it later and think they’d been blessed by an eccentric billionaire. In reality, it was just Lux balancing karma with petty change.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and walked down to the lobby.
The hotel was cool and perfud, all polished marble and muted chatter. The receptionist looked up, clearly startled when she saw him approach. Lux could see it in her eyes. She thought he had at least a couple of days booked. And she was right.
"Check out," Lux said smoothly, sliding his keycard across the counter.
The receptionist blinked. "Sir... but you’ve already paid in full. For the week. I’m afraid there are no refunds if you leave early. That’s in the policy."
Lux smiled, and that smile was its own signature. "That’s fine. Just mark as checked out. I don’t care about the refund."
The woman hesitated, confused by soone willingly burning money. "Very well, sir... may I ask why?"
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping, calm but edged with precision. "Because if soone else takes that room after , and then commits a cri... I don’t want to be the suspect. You understand."
The receptionist blinked, then flushed, stamring, "Y-yes, of course, sir. I’ll make sure the records are updated imdiately."
Lux nodded, satisfied. His paranoia wasn’t paranoia—it was asset managent. You don’t beco Greed without knowing how to manage liabilities.
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