The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series, Dan Sugralinov [the read aloud family TXT] 📗

“Here’s Alex!” Vito Painter, aka Hellfish, shouted. “Hey, champ!”

It turned out they were all waiting to say goodbye to me. We hugged, exchanged what was probably our hundredth handshake in twenty-four hours. I couldn’t promise my allies that I’d stay in touch in real life, but in Dis I’d be happy to. That notion seemed to hook Joker. Without letting go of my hand, he jabbered:

“You, uhm… If there’s any fun to be had, give us a call, will ya? In big Dis, I mean…”

“Call us all!” Michelle agreed, and the others nodded.

I couldn’t promise that, but I decided to keep these people in mind. I felt an attachment to them. Even though we hadn’t been allies for long, every day with them was worth a year.

All of them signed my poster as a keepsake, each adding a couple of words to their autograph. Joker wrote “It’s gonna blow!”, Hellfish: “You hit the limit!”, and Meister: “Quod servabit.”

Finally, my face covered in kisses and my shoulders wet with tears — thanks to Anna, Alison, Yen and Michelle, — I walked to the exit. Destiny caught my eye, nodded and headed for the elevators. Now it was her turn to hold up her end of the deal.

Kerry, who had been by my side all this time, gave me a hug at the main door of the hotel:

“Alex…” she blurted out after we’d already said goodbye. “A media service offered to publish a book and make a movie about me… Well, about you, really, but through my eyes. They want to call it something like ‘Ten Days as Assistant to the Top Threat.’ Would you mind..?”

“How much are they offering?”

“Two million phoenixes, plus royalties. What do you think?”

“What’s there to think about? Take it!”

Yet again, I got showered with kisses and lipstick. Black, this time. Kerry Hunter wiped my cheek with her sleeve and smiled.

“Good luck, Alex!”

As soon as I crossed the threshold of the hotel, three security droids joined me.

At the parking lot, I caught up to Renato Loyola, aka Quetzal. His friends were hanging around a little off to the side. The gladiator himself walked over to me, pulled me in and patted me on the back.

“Best of luck, kid! I don’t care if you’re a Threat or not. If you need me, get in touch! Thanks for everything!”

“You too!” I said, then pulled the rolled-up holoposter out of my bag. “Will you sign this? Everyone else has except you, Mr. Loyola…”

“To you, I’m just Renato…” he said, laughing and signing the poster with a flourish. “Didn’t know you were the sentimental type, kid! That’s good. Means you’re not too jaded… By the way, I’ll talk to Colonel about allying with the Awoken. The old man said, since it turns out you’re not such an asshole after all, he’s willing to review the question of compensation for the damage you dealt, and…” Renato snapped his mouth shut. “Bottom line, he’s still angry at you. But the fact he brought it up at all means he’s thinking about making friends with you. Vito promised to talk to Horvac about bringing our clan into your alliance too. Hinterleaf’s guys will mention it to him also. But in any case, the decision is yours. See ya, Alex!”

Moving off, Renato headed for his red Ferrari Falco, reminding me that he was a multimillionaire from Excommunicado, a top preventer clan. Apparently, Willy and Hairo had decided to stay in their flyer so that their old Exco acquaintance wouldn’t see them.

I walked across the parking lot to our flyer with my backpack on my back and in the same clothes I wore when I arrived at the Games, when the hatred of the other contestants crashed down on me, including Quetzal’s. Behind me, the security droids rumbled across the asphalt.

Our flyer stood out — it was the least presentable one there, like a chicken among swans. The doors flew open and I climbed in. Hairo and Willy shook my hand, and we took off right away.

“Come on, tell us all about it,” Willy said, staring at me.

“Give me some time first, guys,” I said. “I need to watch something. You have my comm?”

Willy pulled out my communicator. I went online and found Destiny Windsor’s profile. She had already started streaming straight from the media center in the Ruhm und Ehre hotel, judging by the background.

“…I can’t say, but the source is reliable. Also, I checked the information I received through my own channels, went through some friends to contact the clinic treating the unfortunate non-citizens… It’s all been confirmed!” Destiny’s voice shook. She wiped away a tear. “I say again! The non-citizen capsules are defective! Every non-citizen playing for the Undead faction must change their race immediately! The Destroying Plague kills people for real! In real life! It happens because of a defect in the Snowstorm capsules for non-citizens! Tissue necrosis and damage to internal organs threaten every non-citizen who…”

I switched off my comm. Destiny Windsor had done what she promised, announced to the whole world that the Destroying Plague is dangerous to non-citizens. I doubted Disgardium Daily would have the balls to publish it themselves, but Destiny’s two hundred million loyal followers would spread the information even better than the media company could.

“How are our builders doing?” I asked, remembering our people in the hospital.

“They pulled through,” Willy answered. “They’re already home.”

Another mountain off my shoulders. I sighed in relief.

“How do I contact the boys?”

Willy handed me his own comm:

“Here. Tell it to call Macho.”

“Macho?” I asked in confusion.

“That’s Edward’s name in my phone,” Willy smiled. “Just don’t talk too long. Yoshi encrypted the line well, but you never know…”

‘Macho’ answered right away:

“Willy?” The comm brought up a holoprojection of