The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series

by Dan Sugralinov

  “I have no intention of doing that,” Destiny said, her voice cold. “And I won’t let you insult me. Get out.”

  “You bitch!” He grimaced in anger, stood, took two steps toward her. The girl paled, backed off and was just about to threaten to call security, but Jansson had excellent self-control. He had only wanted to demonstrate his superiority.

  “Scared? Tomorrow you’ll really start feeling the fear, and despair, and pain. We won’t let you out of the graveyard, you’re gonna get zeroed, and there’ll be nobody to help you, because your rats already jumped off your sinking ship onto my battleship.”

  “You’re bluffing…” Destiny tried as hard as she could to maintain her equanimity, but she felt as if the ground beneath her feet was shifting and collapsing into an abyss.

  Jansson smiled in satisfaction, nodded.

  “Think that if you want. But I’m no monster, you know. I’ll give you until two in the morning to change your mind. Then I’ll be too late, I’ll be asleep.”

  Marcus brought the bottle up to his lips. His hairy Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with every gulp, making Destiny wretch. Then he clumsily staggered to the door, singing an obscene song to himself under his breath.

  The door closed behind him, but Destiny stood immobile for a minute, trying to calm her racing heart.

  “Fuck you, scumbag!” she said to the door, then sat on her bed and rubbed her temples.

  Casting a glance at the clock, she forbade herself from crying. There was still time. She would think of something.

  Chapter 23. Scyth’s Raid

  HAVING ANNOUNCED the viewers’ verdict, Octius said goodbye and disappeared in the dark. When the initial shock passed, everyone burst out in conversation, jumping up from their seats. Not looking at anyone, Destiny Windsor rushed to the exit from the hall.

  Meister’s thinned raid gathered around my table. As always, Joseph was dressed to the nines.

  “Our congratulations, young man!” he said, raising a glass of red wine. “I confess, we really thought tomorrow was going to be our last day in the Games.”

  I wanted alcohol, of course, after everything I’d been through, but I took a glass of juice instead.

  “What level did you get up to?” Bloomer asked.

  “A hundred plus,” I smiled.

  “Now that’s more like it!” Roman shouted, punching the air.

  I stood up and whispered to the jeweler, told him not to plan anything for that evening, because we needed to discuss strategy for tomorrow. The old man nodded silently and walked away with the poet and curser.

  Michelle, surrounded by her girlfriends, danced on the spot and squeaked:

  “Scyth, tell us the details! I’ve been so worried about you!”

  “You’re not the only one,” a tall brunette cooed. Her holobadge read ‘Trisha,’ and the landscape it sat on swayed invitingly. “We were all so worried about you, sweetie!”

  She put on a tender face, but I saw the cold calculation in her eyes. ‘Sweetie,’ heh. The false sincerity rubbed me the wrong way, but I kept the idiotic smile on my face.

  “Let’s drink to kicking their asses tomorrow!” Michelle suggested, raising her cocktail glass.

  “Great toast!” Trisha supported her, leaning down so that her breasts lightly brushed my shoulder as they nearly spilled out of her dress.

  Wine glasses, steins and tumblers clattered together.

  “To Boom Boom?” suggested a brunette with playful green eyes, another of Michelle’s friends. “Let’s go celebrate your victory, Alex!”

  “We’re still a long way off winning, girls. Which is why I need to get some sleep. You guys have a great time!”

  “Oh, do come with us,” Trisha said, pouting playfully. “Come on, Alex!”

  “Sorry, I can’t, things to do.”

  Sighing in disappointment, they finally left me in peace. All but Michelle.

  “I know you want to be alone.” The girl leaned down over my table, her hips curving invitingly. “But maybe I could keep you company in your heroic solitude, Alex?”

  “Then it wouldn’t be solitude,” I said, shaking my head. “And somehow I doubt I’ll be able to think about strategy for tomorrow in your company, Michelle. I don’t think anyone could.”

  The compliment had sounded better in my head. I blushed. The girl laughed and went off to catch up to her group — short and shapely as a statue. I caught myself regretting that she was leaving, and felt ashamed. That woman was almost thirty years old! And I already had Irita waiting for me and worrying about me! Like Kusalarix said: “All about the hormones, kid!” — it really wasn’t easy to fight against instincts that made you forget everything and want only one thing.

  Quetzal’s group passed by my table deep in discussion. They didn’t pay me any mind, as if nothing had happened. Tissa’s face was stony. Only Malik cast a thoughtful glance at me. Judging by his bowed back and lowered head, the guy was back in envy mode.

  Just as I thought I’d finally been left in peace, someone hugged me from behind.

  “Alex! You badass!”

  It was Alison Wu. She clapped me on the shoulder, and at the same time Yen appeared before me, an archer girl from T-Modus who gave me an altogether manly handshake.

  “Tomorrow we’ll tear ‘em apart like rag dolls!” she gabbled excitedly, her eyes shining. If she could, she would have gone into battle right then.

  Filex the rogue and Kanu the druid, also competitors against the Awoken in the final of the Junior Arena, stood a little off to the side. The fifth member of their team, the warrior Kart, shook my hand and asked:

  “What are we doing tomorrow?”

  “You guys stay inside and wait for me to get out of the Pitfall. Then we have ourselves a bloodbath. I mean, you can fight if you really want to, but I wouldn’t risk it.”

  “Bloodbaaaath!” Anastasia Kovalenko said thirstily. Miss Commonwealth 2074 pushed aside Alison and Yen and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek and tickling me like a little brother. “Wow, you did great! Now I see how you became a Threat!”

  That wasn’t how I became a Threat, but I had been acting kind of similarly: I’d offended Patrick, gotten cursed, then stayed with Dargo the lich until he got sick of me. That was how I became a Threat. Even a Sisyphean task could bear fruit… I went on filling my head with whatever I could just to calm my racing heart and quickened breath from being so close to Anna. Reluctantly, I gently pulled away from her, feeling my ears redden. Things were a lot easier and simpler back when people used to just ignore me.

  “Mess with the bull, get the horns,” knocked-out Olaf said, smiling sadly and looking at the raid leader.

  If I’d only seen Hellfish that one time last night in the club, I would never have recognized the old stooped alcoholic in this stately man. He reminded me of an army spacetrooper, like the ones in the old sci-fi films: strict, well groomed, confident, with an unblinking and piercing gaze.

  “And if the horns miss ‘em, they’ll get plenty of lead bullets,” he muttered. “Alright, then we’ll be relying on you tomorrow.”

  The ice mage Kara, who had saved my life at least once, said:

  “Your help will really come in handy.”

  “We congratulate you, Alex!” Berstan the rogue said, giving me a friendly clap on the shoulder. “And ourselves, too, of course! If it weren’t for your crazy run through the instance today, this would be the end for us.”

  Casting a glance across the raid, Hellfish said:

  “Let’s go. Come along if you want, Alex, we’ll be on the rec level in Boom Boom.”

  It seemed nobody went anywhere else. The ability to quickly and easily treat alcohol intoxication using a Home Doctor had led to a hundredfold increase in hard alcohol sales across the world. But Vito would have to stay sober today.

  “Hold on a minute, Mr. Painter…” I said. “Let’s meet in my room at midnight. We need to discuss the plan.”

  “Got it, I’ll be there,” he answered.


  “Talk to Quetzal, please. Invite him to join if he wants…”

  Vito nodded his understanding. After he and his people left, I stayed behind in the hall of ceremonies out of sheer habit, to watch the other contestants. Kerry approached the table and stood a little off to one side with a distant expression on her face, saying nothing.

  Yesterday’s enthusiasm and desire for a taste of the night life at the Ruhm und Ehre hotel had disappeared. Moreover, I decided not to ‘go out and live it up,’ as Michelle suggested, but instead to fully concentrate on the Games, staying away even from weak alcohol. I needed to focus on my goal, and afterwards, if I had anything to celebrate, I could do it with my real friends.

  Sitting at the table, I felt the interested eyes of contestants as they moved to the exit. If I’d been an ordinary player, I would have already been surrounded, questioned and quizzed for the details, but they had marked themselves my enemies, so they didn’t approach. As soon as I caught their eye, they looked away and made themselves scarce.

  I was trying to figure out what was going on among the players. The short time between the end of the highlights and my return to my room was my only chance to study the changes in the groups of contestants. A great deal could be learned simply by noticing who stayed with who, who spoke to who. Even the short nods that Marcus and Urkish the lopher exchanged didn’t escape my eye.

  Marcus’s group was one of the last to leave the hall. I noticed that some of Destiny’s people walked with them, but some stayed at the table in animated discussion. Was there trouble in Miss Windsor’s royal court now that she had been declared worst player of the day? There was a reason Destiny herself disappeared right after she ‘won’ that nomination.

  Standing up from the table, I took stock of our situation. At the end of day five, there were roughly two hundred and thirty contestants left. Twenty were Quetzal and Hellfish’s people. Meister had eighty. Together, they just barely had the same numbers as Destiny and Marcus’s raids combined, but were far lower in level.

  It seemed that after the massacre of my allies, many small groups stopped waiting to pick a side, instead deciding to seek out protectors right away. Judging by what was happening around Marcus, most wanted to join him, but he had become very selective and only took on five players. At least, that was the conclusion I drew from the rejects, who vented their disappointment as they walked by my table.

  The others panicked — they didn’t want to join my allies, fearing another massacre and zeroing, but they didn’t have the numbers to farm the floors anymore. The first accessible levels had already been cleared, after all, and if they went lower… Well, the gate guardians there would have made a quick meal of them.

  I didn’t know whether they thought that or not, but as I walked past the stage I noticed that all the neutrals who had hesitated and been rejected by the top players were huddled into a circle. Had they decided to make their own raid? It looked like it, but I soon learned I was wrong.

  When they saw me, they started whispering and sent a delegation of three people to me. Knowing my age (which meant they knew about those damn unruly hormones!), they chose two cute girls and a handsome guy.

  The trio of strangers caught up to me at the exit from the hall of ceremonies. The short, steely-eyed blonde who looked around twenty-five spoke first:

  “Hey, Alex! I’m Zara. These are my friends, Jasmine…” The tall ginger girl with her hair tied back into a ponytail nodded. “And her brother, Jean-Jac.” The blue-eyed brown-haired man shook my hand. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  I nodded and we moved behind a column. Zara bit her lip, exchanged glances with her friends, then blurted out:

  “Please take us under your protection! We only have twenty-three people. Some are fighters! From level 14 to 17.”

  I had expected something like this after my adventures in Despot’s Labyrinth were shown in the hall, but I was still taken aback. Yesterday I had to buy allies, today they were begging to join…

  The guy with the double name, Jean-Jac, took my silence as doubt, and he was right. He decided to play to my compassion:

  “Marcus is foaming at the mouth. They say he’s going to cut down everyone one by one tomorrow,” the young man said. “His people want to get drunk on Demonic Brandy and spend the whole day on a great cleansing, as they put it.”

  “Why? They won’t get any exp.”

  “Their stragglers will,” Jasmine answered. “They want to finish the rest of us fast so they can deal with you.”

  “Well, will you help us?” Zara asked.

  “I’ll say it straight: there’s one of me and many of you,” I answered, and their faces tightened.

  Jasmine cast a glance at Zara as if to say I told you so!, but I went on:

  “First of all, I try to help those who help me. I just can’t be everywhere at once and protect everyone, especially if they’re spread across the Cursed Chasm. But I’ll give you a tip — ask to join Meister, Quetzal or Hellfish raid. I don’t think Joseph will refuse you. They’re in no condition to be picky with allies…”

  Leaving them to think, I went to my interview. Kerry walked along beside me. She said nothing, but still helped to organize a press conference in a separate room, to avoid the nightmare of yesterday when I was standing in the corridor and surrounded by journalists trying to tear me apart.

  On one of the holocubes hanging along the corridor walls, I saw Destiny. She was streaming via the official Snowstorm app installed on all the comms handed out to the contestants. Apparently, contact with the outside world this way, controlled by the corporation’s moderators, fit into the terms of the contract. It was a shame I’d come here unprepared. My friends and I could have discussed using that as a method of contact with a cipher!

  During the interview, I was asked a bunch of questions. They asked how I had managed to not only clear a floor, but even tame a boss, and about my plans. The streamer girls focused on feelings.

  The most memorable question was from Peter Davis, a journalist from Disgardium Daily. He made up for his short stature with a booming voice:

  “First of all, Alex, my colleague Ian Mitchell says hello! The old guy’s on the road to recovery, and he says he’s watching you play with interest, and, I quote, he’s very proud of you!”

  “Thanks, Peter! I’m really happy for Ian!”

  “Incidentally, this question is from him: Alex, do you think that what happened to you today could be ascribed to your good luck? Or did something else play a role?”

  “I didn’t expect a question like that from Mr. Mitchell…” I thought for a moment. I wanted to say that there was a grain of truth to Ian’s words, but that the day’s successes were more down to tenacity and strength of will, but that would have looked like dumb bragging. “He’s right! Pure luck and nothing else! Seriously! Think about it, if I’d landed on another floor, I would have died to the first mob! What is that if not luck? I was lucky that Destiny delayed her killing blow, that Mr. Rosenthal got the Escape Pentagram as a reward, and that it sent me to Despot’s level. You saw the rest for yourselves — I did nothing that any other contestant wouldn’t have done in my place. I just ran away!”

  They all laughed, Peter loudest of all.

  First of all I answered the ones who had supported me from the start, but when they ran out of questions, I switched to the rest and announced:

  “Guys, I’d love to stay and talk more, but I’m really tired. My assistant will pick someone to ask a question and I’ll answer, but only in brief so we have time for everyone.”

  The questions rained down. Most of them — what level I’d reached, what I planned to do tomorrow, how I got the ability to speed up and move instantly, how it worked exactly, — I answered with either ‘no comment’ or just a shake of my head, leaving the question unanswered.

  Some of the questions made me smile, like:

  “You have a lot of experience in taming giant pets. Can you tell Despot to fetch your slippers, A
lex?”

  “Only other people’s,” I answered. “And only with their owners still in them. But I’m afraid they might burn to ash before they get to me.”

  Some questions were barbed:

  “Mr. Sheppard, will you admit that you’re in league with Snowstorm?” a woman in glasses from the Musical Disgardium radio station asked.

  That suggestion was so laughable that I choked. Taking a deep breath in and out, I answered:

  “You caught me. They could have just set my spawn point at Abaddon on the first day, but they didn’t! That’s rigging the game for me, no doubt about it.”