The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series Dan Sugralinov (top 100 books to read .txt) 📖

“See you tonight,” Infect said quickly, before the Exhaustion debuff killed Tissa. “For a… for a date, right?”

“Oh yeah, babe, we’ll have lots of fun!” she growled menacingly and laughed.

Then she died, the smile still on her lips. Infect crouched by her corpse, stroked her cheek, leaned down and kissed her. The body disappeared. He pulled out his guitar and ran a finger down the strings. The attacking riff boomed out through the area, blowing the yeti’s head into little pieces.

Returning to Mengoza, he messaged his friends to say that he’d decided to go see his parents earlier than planned. He invented a cousin’s birthday as an excuse.

While he packed his things, Willy got the flyer ready. He should have told Alex about his altered plans, but that was impossible, so Hairo made the decision himself.

Ed and Hung went to say good-bye to their friend.

“You have to win,” Ed said. “I’m sure Alex will survive the Ordeal, but I doubt he’ll make it to the Games in time. Sometimes the Ordeal takes two or three days. And latecomers aren’t allowed to enter the Games…”

“I know,” Malik answered, deciding in the end not to tell them that Tissa would also be entering. If he told them, he’d have to explain how he found out… “I know. But I hope Alex does make it.”

“Shame there’re no depths in real life,” Hung said. “Zip! And you’d be where you need…”

The comm vibrated and emitted Willy’s voice:

“We’re ready for you, Malik, head upstairs! Don’t forget your camo cap.”

All three boys went up to the roof together. They hugged as they parted.

As he took off, Malik looked down. Hung and Ed were walking toward the door and discussing something — they’d probably forgotten him and were talking about their very important business in Dis.

The flight gave him time both to daydream and to think about the building diagram for the Sanctuary of the Departed. The discovery was awesome, but he hadn’t yet found the last part. Plus, there was no direct benefit from it for Malik. Even Gyula would level up his construction skills by building the sanctuary.

Malik set aside two hours for meeting relatives. He was welcomed like a hero, with even grandpa emerging from his own reality and sitting his ‘beloved grandson’ down on his right side. What Malik had dreamed of since childhood had come to pass; his many cousins, who had mocked him only a few months ago, now watched him raptly, hanging on his every word.

On any other day, he would have stayed there longer to enjoy his triumph, but he had bigger things to think about that day; his second dream was knocking at the door, one that turned out to be far more significant to him.

So Malik waited out the two hours, listened to his relatives shower him with praise as if they’d been saving it up for sixteen years to throw it all at him now. Then he claimed he was pressed for time, hugged everyone who wanted it, shook the hands of even those he only vaguely remembered, then set off to see Tissa, sweating in anticipation.

He was five minutes late. The girl was waiting for him on a lively street, leaning with her back to the wall and foot up against it.

Tissa’s disguise was traditional: sunglasses, a baseball cap, a baggy hoodie and wide-leg trousers. It was hard to make out her face with the hood up. Malik had activated a camouflage hologram, so the girl didn’t spot him until he spoke to her. She flinched at first, turned her head, then lit up and threw her arms around him, hitting him with the scent of unfamiliar flowers.

“Malik, I’ve missed you all so much! Eeee!”

He froze like a statue, not knowing where to put his hands. He tentatively patted her on the back. He got angry at himself again; instead of showing the initiative, he was behaving like a jackass again.

“Where are we going?” he asked hoarsely.

“There’s a cheap restaurant in the next district where we can get a booth and keep a low profile,” the girl whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “We don’t want anyone to recognize us.”

They took a community flyer. Willy, assigned to the boy, kept an eye on them unnoticed to Tissa. Say nothing, the security officer whispered as he walked by them into the lounge. Malik nodded and forgot him immediately.

The young duo sat down in a reversed booth and ordered a real-meat steak each (Make it bloody! Tissa said as she made her choice on the robot waiter’s menu panel) and some beer. Then Malik finally removed his disguise.

Both were awkward at first — their lives had gone in very different directions, and so had their interests. On top of that, Malik was bound by a mental contract, and what did they have to talk about but clan affairs?

All the same, he unwittingly forgot everything else and got carried away in the conversation. Tissa told him colorful stories of her life and shared her plans for the future. She planned to break up with Liam, or he with her — Malik didn’t care which. Only the present moment had meaning.

“I had a lot of doubts before I accepted the offer from the White Amazons,” Tissa admitted. “I knew why they wanted me. All those tales about how I was a perfect fit for them, how my appearance fit in perfectly with the clan image, how my success story would be an example to millions of girls… I saw Hinterleaf on the island. I don’t know what’s between him and Elizabeth, but they’re clearly friends.” Tissa rubbed her forefingers together. “You get what I’m saying. They needed me because of Scyth. To be honest, I wasn’t sure they’d keep me for long. So I insisted on a clause in the contract which