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

Approaching, I turned my head in confusion: the music suddenly seemed dulled in some mysterious way, as if playing somewhere far off. Some real-life equivalent of a Dome of Silence?

“Hey!” Michelle said, getting their attention. “Vito, Alex needs to talk to you.”

Hellfish raised his head, casting a dim, uncomprehending gaze my way. He didn’t even look at Michelle. I’m going to walk round the floor, see who else is here, she whispered, disappearing into the darkness.

The Traveler finally recognized me.

“Oh, you’re here too…” he muttered disappointedly. “Celebratin’ your… your miracle r-rescue, buddy?”

He was close to Yary in age, and because he didn’t hide his gray hairs, he looked very old, especially now, drunk and high. And he barely moved his tongue as he spoke.

“We need to talk, Vito. I’m going to need your help tomorrow…”

“What? “H-h-help?” Hellfish echoed me, tripping over his own tongue. “You gone nuts, kid? Your limit f-f-for h-help is… maxed out!”

“My game session ended today in combat against three gankers from Destiny’s group. I might not be able to handle them alone. I need help, especially if Destiny…”

“I don’t — hic — give a sh-shit!” Vito snapped. “Leave us alone, pipsqueak. Get outta here!”

He turned to Anna and started kissing her again. Huh… Some allies they were.

I pushed my way in between the table and sofa, leaned down to Vito:

“Mr. Painter, have you forgotten what you… who you became in the desert thanks to me? If you don’t help, then right after the Games, the Sleeping Gods will have one less priest. Maybe your whole clan will lose their ranks. Do you think Horvac Onegut will be happy about that?”

Opening the map of Cursed Chasm on my comm, I marked roughly where I’d logged Scyth out in the glade, then sent it to Painter with a wave of my finger. Hellfish just waved me away and kept kissing Anna. I turned away in disgust, started to climb out and bumped into her long leg.

“Who’s this, Vito?” Miss Commonwealth 2074 said, pulling away from her lover’s lips and raising her head, staring at me with unseeing eyes and blinking. “I want some champagne!”

“Champagne!” Vito shouted into the void. “Champagne for the lady!”

Michelle had returned by then. She touched me by the hand and whispered in my ear:

“It’s useless. His whole group is like this. Let’s go…”

“Waiter!” Vito kept shouting, staring at the ceiling. Roaring, he tore his arm from Anna, got up, staggered over and jabbed a finger at me. “Listen here, Sheppard! L-let me t-tell you how it — hic — how it is! You piss me off! Horvac said help you. So we — hic! — helped! Twice! The g-g-group lost a b-bunch of levels at the b… bottom!”

“Your clans get a lot out of their partnership with me, Mr. Painter,” I answered. “And I need your help.”

“You hit — hic — the limit!” Vito repeated, then fell down to the glass floor. The floor held, but some glasses shattered.

The crash woke up Alison Wu. The girl tried to stand, then fell face-first to the floor and groaned plaintively:

“Driink…”

Michelle helped her get back to her seat and called a waiter drone to get her some water. After that, she made sure Vito was alright, then turned to me:

“These guys sure are talented. Getting this fucked up in three hours is a skill! They do this every night. Can you believe that? Eh bien! Let them sleep it off, talk to them again tomorrow.”

Taking me by the arm, she led me back to the first level. As we walked down, Michelle and I ran out onto the dance floor. She jumped up and down and started to dance. I stared admiringly. I was sure she would have looked just as good as the professionals if she went up on one of those poles.

Even I got into the dancing, forgetting myself, letting the stream of humanity pull me along. The state was trance-like — I felt light, I wanted to embrace the whole world!

At some point I realized I’d lost Michelle. I waited for her for around an hour at the bar, watching the revelers and sipping my beer.

Flustered by the sight of the debauchery reigning in the club, I started to entertain crazy thoughts. My soul cried out for fun, for easy acquaintances. But morning was approaching, and my drunken mind used the last remnants of its willpower to do the impossible — to convince me that I needed to sleep before an important day. Although every day here seemed more important than the last… All the same, my mind made a deal with my body: sleep today, and if I survived tomorrow, then I’d have the chance to cut loose.

Staggering and bumping into half-naked figures, I left the club and made my way down the level’s ‘streets.’ As I walked, I finally noticed one of those ‘intimate relaxation rooms.’ Before my brain could put the brakes on, I broke for the door, feeling like Trixie in Darant’s red light district. Fortunately, Meister burst out of the door with a happy smile on his face:

“Oh, Alex, you’re here too? Nico and I were just discussing strategy for tomorrow — Michelle told us all about your predicament…”

The old man forgot all about the poet and pulled me away, still talking all the way to the elevator, then went up with me to the residential level. Meister had been drinking too, so I heard nothing sensible from him.

“You know what kinda group ours is, Alex? Woah, lemme tell ya! We’ll gallop in to save ya like knights in shining armor! You’re at the bottom of the Pitfall, right? We’ll just jump right down, our whole raid! Ha-ha, like paratroopers! Hic!”

“I’m in the woods to the south of the village, Mr. Rosen… Rosen…” I suppressed the