Chapter 351 – Ambitions
Lux stood off to the side at first, leaning against the wall, watching. His sharp suit looked comically out of place among the ssy desks and half-broken chairs. He didn’t touch the food imdiately. He watched.
Watched the way Elias lit up, the way the team’s faces softened, their exhaustion replaced by warmth. Watched how the sll of soy and ginger filled the cramped space, turning a rundown office into sothing alive.
And Lux—Lux, son of Greed and Lust, who fed on power and sin—felt sothing strange coil in his chest. Warmth.
He hated it. He loved it.
Elias caught his eye across the room, holding out a plate of dumplings. "Mr. Vaelthorn—Lux—you should join us."
Lux chuckled, pushing off the wall. "Fine."
The team laughed nervously, but Lux smirked as he took a plate. The dumplings were good. Mortal good. Crisp edges, hot broth inside, ginger and scallion burning the tongue just enough. He ate one slowly, watching the way everyone’s shoulders relaxed.
The chatter filled the studio. Jokes, plans, relief. Elias sat in the middle of it, laughing for real this ti, not forced. He looked younger, lighter, like he’d finally stepped out from under a shadow.
Lux chewed thoughtfully, the taste of soy and sesa sharp on his tongue. ’This is new,’ he thought. ’This warmth. This... camaraderie. Not efficient. Not profitable. But it works.’
He glanced at Elias again, at the way the man raised his glass of cheap soda like it was champagne. "To Nightlight Studio," Elias said, voice trembling but proud. "To survival. To dreams."
They all raised their cups. Even Lux, though he smirked as he did it.
"To inevitability," he murmured under his breath.
No one heard him. But the system did.
[System Notification: Alignnt Strengthened.]
[Status: Mortal Influence – Stable Growth.]
[Note: Warmth detected. Potential leverage: Emotional Bonds.]
Lux took another dumpling, eyes narrowing slightly. He would let them have this warmth. Let them laugh, eat, cheer. He would even join them for today.
Because tomorrow, the real work began.
He left not long after, slipping out of the cramped studio with a lazy smile and a casual wave, as if he’d only been there to sample dumplings instead of rewriting destinies. The door shut behind him, muffling the laughter, the clatter of chopsticks, the sound of soda cans cracking open.
Out on the street, the city roared like it always did. Engines growled. Neon signs buzzed. Smog hung low, tinted orange by the setting sun. Lux slid into his car, leather seat creaking beneath him, and closed the door.
Silence.
But his mind wasn’t silent.
That scene in the studio clung to him like smoke. The togetherness. The clumsy joy. The ridiculous way Elias’s devs smiled at each other, like being debt-free and full of dumplings was the pinnacle of existence.
Lux had watched empires rise and fall. He’d built hell’s economy on contracts signed in blood and lust. He had subordinates—armies of them. Bound. Controlled. Useful. Loyal because they had no other choice.
But this?
This wasn’t loyalty. Not the kind he knew.
"Mortals," he muttered, voice curling with disdain and sothing else he couldn’t na.
The system stirred. A cool, deadpan voice humd in his head, as detached as ever.
[Emotional instability detected. Shall I contact Lady Celestaria for therapeutic consultation?]
Lux snorted. "Therapy? From Celestaria? No." He tapped the steering wheel, jaw tightening. "I just don’t understand. What is this... warmth? They weren’t bound. They weren’t threatened. They weren’t promised power or flesh. And still, they smiled. Why?"
[Anomalous behavior. Beyond contractual fraworks. Beyond transactional exchange. ]
[Recomndation: Seek infernal therapy.]
"I said no," Lux snapped, irritation cutting through the quiet. "I don’t need therapy. I need answers. That was... sothing beyond . Beyond the empire. Beyond the markets."
For a mont, the silence stretched, broken only by the muffled thrum of city traffic.
Then Lux exhaled slowly, shifting his focus. "Updates. The clones. Those four—have they found anything? Celestial? Infernal? Any tails?"
[No hostile activity detected. Local observers identified them as decoys. No pursuit initiated.]
"Figures." Lux adjusted his cuffs, eyes glinting in the dim light of the dashboard. "Summon them back to the mansion."
[Acknowledged. Clones recalled.]
"Good." He leaned back, letting the leather embrace him, gaze unfocused as the traffic lights flickered red to green. "Anything else?"
[Current chatter on InfernalNet has escalated. Subject ’Lux Vaelthorn’ remains top five trending among common demons. Topic shift noted—]
"Topic shift?" Lux arched an eyebrow, smirking.
[You have entered royal-tier discourse. Discussions involving High Houses. Speculation regarding your alliances, your assets, your ambitions.]
Lux’s smirk deepened. "Oh. So I’ve graduated from common gossip to boardroom chatter."
[Correct.]
He chuckled low, starting the engine with a smooth growl. "Good. Let them talk. Let them speculate. The more they guess, the more they fear. And fear... fear pays dividends."
The system remained silent.
But Lux’s mind wasn’t.
That scene in the studio replayed itself again, unbidden. Elias laughed like a kid. The devs clinked soda cans together like they were goblets of gold. That strange warmth curling in Lux’s chest like a parasite.
He gripped the wheel tighter.
"I don’t like it," he muttered. "This... thing. This warmth. It’s not mine. It’s not bought. It’s not signed. It just exists." His lips twisted. "And I’ve never felt anything more dangerous. I feel... human..."
The system finally spoke again.
[Do you wish for a report on potential counterasures to mortal bonding behavior?]
Lux’s laugh was sharp, humorless. "Counterasures? No. Not yet." He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "First, I want to understand it. Then... maybe I’ll weaponize it." Or just accept it.
He drove on. Sowhere in the distance, sirens wailed. Sowhere closer, laughter drifted from a café terrace.
And Lux sat behind the wheel of his mortal car, smirking like the devil he was.
Because even if he didn’t understand this mortal warmth... he wanted to. Loyalty without signatures. Bonds without profit margins. Affection without leverage. It was foreign, irrational, yet magnetic—and Lux intended to dissect it, master it, own it.
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