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

just spoke with such hard seriousness that the others fell silent and started listening. In the scattered phrases I managed to hear, he mentioned the prime notary, the contract and the penalties.

People from Destiny Windsor and Marcus Jansson’s camps flocked around the stage. The orc bruiser shouted something fiercely and beat his fist into his other hand. Destiny listened thoughtfully, her eyes locked on me.

Quetzal’s group left right away, but Hellfish, Anna and the Modus fighters stayed behind, from time to time nodding in my direction.

I was watching them, so I didn’t notice when the trio of gankers from the woods walked over. It wasn’t easy to recognize the dark elf Smoothie in the busty woman of around forty before me. Riker the vampire and the orc Phobos were shorter in real life than in the game.

“Little early to celebrate,” Smoothie said, smiling sweetly. “You slipped away today, but tomorrow…”

“We’re going to…” long-haired Riker ran his thumb along his throat.

Phobos just pointed his finger and thumb at me, emulating a gun.

“Pow!” he fired.

“You can’t imagine how many people like you have told me that,” I said, staring at the ceiling.

“Hmm…” Riker slowly licked his lips, then smiled wickedly and glanced at Smoothie. “He’s sweet, ain’t he?”

“See you tomorrow,” I quickly said good-bye, realizing that matters were taking an unexpected turn.

“Come visit us after the interview, Alex,” Smoothie crooned to my retreating back. “We can talk about your position, maybe make a deal.”

“Always more fun with four… making deals, I mean,” Phobos laughed. “Come by, Alex, you won’t regret it!”

“Think hard!” Riker shouted. “I promise you’ll have an unforgettable time!”

Heading toward Meister’s raid, I studied the ganker trio’s achievements while I walked, to see what had gotten them to the Demonic Games. ‘Champions of the Ditch’? I followed the link and found some information about a tournament. The Ditch was a local competition for the dark races of the Empire. It took place in Shak between teams of three. Bound by magical ties, the teams were thrown fully naked into a trench. They fought up to their chest in mud. The last surviving team was declared winner of the Ditch. The tournament took its roots in an ancient tradition of the ogres to elect their leading triumvirate of chiefs. The forefather of current emperor Kragosh loved the Ditch and ordered it to be made into a yearly tournament across all the races of Shad’Erung.

Reaching Joseph, I waited until I had his group’s attention and said:

“Thanks for not letting them kick me out! Thanks a lot to all of you.”

“You knew something!” Roman accused me. “Pretty big coincidence otherwise, don’t you think? Did you know there’d be a court of contestants?”

“No. I’ve never even heard of it before. To be honest, I’d hoped for a viewer’s vote. I was sure they’d show my battle with the final boss in the highlights.”

“We’ll make like we believe you,” Bloomer said. “At least, some of us will. Personally, I’m convinced that you were honest onstage. Snowstorm wouldn’t have given you the rank of worst player every day if they were in cahoots with you. And that means you couldn’t have known about the court of contestants either. Which is exactly what I’ve been trying to get through to certain individuals!” He glanced back angrily at his group. “Anyway, time for the interviews… Anything else to tell us, Alex?”

“Since we’re a team now, we should discuss our strategy for tomorrow.”

“Not today,” Joseph shook his head. “We don’t know what your penalty’s going to be. Once we find out, we’ll go from there. Come on, let’s get to the media center, or they’ll pull us up for not fulfilling our obligations!”

Along the way, I noticed that my allies were still trying to keep their distance from me. Even Michelle, with whom I seemed almost able to have a normal conversation, moved away to the side as soon as she saw me next to her.

“Reputation, young man,” I heard Joseph breathe nearby. “Don’t be offended, but having you as an ally is a lifelong black mark.”

“Hinterleaf and Horvac…” I began to argue, but the old man interrupted me:

“Too high up to care what the masses think. Notice how the top clans send their low-ranking troops here. People like Otto don’t need cheap popularity. Him, Horvac, Colonel, Glyph, Joshua and Vivian… None of them have fought in the Battlefields or the Arena for a long time. And the Alliance members who win those tournaments once don’t show up at them again either…” Meister coughed, clearing his throat. “Anyway, where were we?”

“Reputation and black marks. Is it my citizenship status?”

Bloomer and Roman walked on the jeweler’s other side, but both were silent.

“What’s your parents’ category? F? I’d say that’s a pretty low status for many here. It’s not bad of course, a strong middle class, but…” Joseph twirled a finger in the air and Bloomer came to his aid:

“It’s common. The contestants think themselves outstanding individuals, and to tell the truth, they’re not wrong. Think about it, young man, being one of three hundred chosen out of twenty billion people, and getting there through hard work, effort and personal sacrifice… That’s worth a lot, isn’t it?”

“Exactly!” Roman said. “Now look at this from our point of view: a schoolkid used imba Threat abilities to dishonestly win the Junior Arena, and then he has the balls to show up at the Games! And, like a nouveau-riche loser, he tells the world that he really wanted to… How was it you put it?”

“He really wanted to make some new friends,” Bloomer answered. “Who he decided to buy with artifacts stolen from honest players.”

“Thanks, partners,” Meister said dryly. “You must see how it looks from the outside, young man. It was your naive admissions we were arguing about. I have to