Berserker: A LitRPG Urban Fantasy Adventure (Apocosmos Book 1) Dimitrios Gkirgkiris (book series for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

episode he was watching, I decided to sit by him in front of the large window of our new apartment, soaking in some autumn sun and enjoying the scene I knew was coming. Watching Jester hand the legendary cupcake to the hag would never get old.

Once I’d had my fill of Dungeons & Dragons wholesomeness, I spent a few minutes talking to our friendly dragon-in-the-orb. This had become a daily routine of mine since Leo had confirmed Ommanth’s story. He still warned me that I should never completely trust what a dragon says, but that I was as safe as one could be while conversing with such a creature.

I was sure Ommanth didn’t appreciate spending the majority of his time inside my inventory, but he didn’t let it show it at all. On the contrary, he was very interested in talking about any topic I might have questions about, from the medicinal properties of specific plants to the hierarchies of different pantheons.

He was a very interesting conversation companion, so interesting in fact that I caught myself disregarding more important matters for the sake of speaking with him longer than I intended. That’s why I limited the time we spent together daily. Business came first.

I tapped the screen of the DEM tablet to check how our trading operations were doing. Seeing the balance in my account always made me feel a bit dizzy after I had bought the fifty million dollar quest item. One could say that it had made a dent in my bank account but truly, it was more like a bus had crashed right through it.

My goal of retiring in a villa in the Mediterranean was nowhere in sight just yet since I’d had to fulfill other promises first, but considering the speed at which we earned money now, it wasn’t completely unfathomable either, especially if some of the recipes I had been testing turned out to be profitable in some of the other states.

My excitement for what would happen the next day prevented me from sitting in one place for much longer than ten minutes at a time. I knew just the remedy for that nervous energy, but as much as I wanted to hit the gym room, I needed to take it easy today. I couldn’t possibly know what kind of challenge the quest might involve.

Instead, I decided to raid as a Viking in Assassin’s Creed. Might as well stream it too. I wasn’t a successful streamer by any means, since I only averaged about ten viewers on each of my streaming sessions, but ten was a lot more than one, which had been the norm before I started using the microphone.

I had been playing for about a couple of hours, commenting on events in the game and how the game designers might have envisioned each piece of the core game loop, when I heard a sound I very rarely got to hear. Somebody had donated money to my account. I wasn’t in it for the money, but the fact that somebody took money out of their own pocket just to support my playing video games and chatting really touched me. I looked at the name of the donor and the amount they had donated. I blinked rapidly, not being able to believe what I was seeing.

Somebody with the name “Gue$$wh0sB4ck” had donated five thousand dollars to my stream. Was I being pranked by one of those streamers who made ridiculous donations just to get a reaction?

The message accompanying the donation, however, made it clear that things were far worse than somebody pranking me.

I wonder how that friend of yours is doing? The one with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle name. Donatello, was it? No, no… Leonardo.

What the fuck is this?

I immediately paused the stream and called Leo. I waited and waited until finally, he picked up. He answered with a video call, as always. To my horror, his face was bloody and bruised and he was sitting on a chair, looking at the floor. A hand held his face up to the screen by his hair.

“What did you do to him?” I shouted at the screen and Louie rushed over next to me. “Who are you?”

The camera was deactivated and I heard a soft rasping laugh on the other end of the line.

“We haven’t had the chance to talk on the phone yet, Alexander Rage. Or should I say MacFie?” said a voice that oozed confidence.

“Who is this?”

“I hope you didn’t forget about me,” the man said in mock complaint. “My name is Abrathion Halciu.”

“But how? We…” I started before deciding to cut my sentence short. He didn’t need to know that we’d destroyed his dungeon if he wasn’t already sure about it.

“Did you think I was killed along with those lowly servants you slaughtered in that warehouse? I’m hurt that you would consider me so weak.”

“What do you want?” I hissed at him.

“Just continue playing,” he said and I could almost see the smile just from the tone of his voice. “And for the sake of your friend, don’t mention this to any of his family. You see, mystics are so fragile… and I’d hate it if I pressed anywhere too hard.”

A scream from Leo was the last thing I heard before the phone disconnected. Why would he take Leo? Just to get back to me? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.

“What are we going to do?” asked Louie.

“He told me to continue playing,” I said and sat back down to my streaming station.

I resumed the stream and tried to continue my game as if nothing had happened while the chat went nuts about the five-thousand-dollar donation. I heard the same sound again and looked at the notification again. The same account had donated another five thousand, but this time the message had clear instructions.

If you stop by your old apartment around midnight, bring the book that belongs to us, and you can keep the money and your friend.

“The book?” Louie exclaimed as