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

see one interested glance among the sea of despising eyes — a tall and thin man with a big smile winked at me and waved. I nodded and he came closer. His multicolored locks stuck out in all directions. He looked around twenty, but could easily have been forty — if he was a high-category citizen, he could have ‘frozen’ his appearance.

“Loran,” he introduced himself, offering a hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Sheppard.”

“Just Alex,” I said.

“Sure,” he smiled even wider. “Or Scyth. Let’s take a walk? Everyone is watching. And listening, for sure!”

We moved off to the side. Loran grabbed a couple of glasses from a waiter’s tray and offered one to me. I sipped it and grimaced: dry white wine. Mom’s favorite.

“You kept your cool pretty well, Alex!” Loran said so loudly that many turned around. “I didn’t hear what you said to that man, but it looked like he was having a stroke! Do you know who he is?”

“No clue.”

“It’s Quetzal. Heard of him? No? Damn, what rock have you been living under? Ah, sorry!” He smiled disarmingly again. “Of course, that makes sense, why would you know them in real life? Quetzal is from the Excos, a top gladiator in the Arena. He started from the very bottom, which is probably why he didn’t like it much when you rolled right over him and his buddies at Kinema. Rumor has it they lost some top PvP gear that cost them years of Honor Badges…”

A voice boomed through a loudspeaker in the ceiling:

“Mr. Sheppard, please approach the registration desk. Mr. Sheppard…”

Loran shrugged:

“Snowstorm wants you. Alright, it was nice to meet the legend! Want to team up in the Games?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll find you. I’ll be a shapeshifter, nick Messiah.”

I shook his thin hand and then walked back to the registration desk, still looking around for my friends. When I approached, the ‘elf girls’ took me by the arms and led me through the background hologram of a forest glade behind Ravencrow the scribe’s table. There stood a bald lady around thirty years old, her eyebrows shaved and her face covered in thick gothic makeup. For a moment, I felt like I was looking right into the face of a legate of the Destroying Plague.

“Thank you, girls, I’ll take him from here!” she said in a singsong voice and offered me a hand: “Hello, Alex. I’m your personal assistant. The name’s Kerry.”

Chapter 2. A Stab in the Back

“MISS…” I SAID to her, trying to make out whether she wore a wedding ring. There was a ring, and more than one! Two on each finger.

“Pleased to meet you!” she said, chains jangling from her strange black gown covered with cuts. She gave me her arm and said happily: “Just Kerry, Alex. Like I said, I’m your assistant. Let’s hurry, we need to record your video message and get you scanned!”

As she said this, Kerry led me toward a silver door behind a column in the corner of the hall.

“Quicker this way,” she said. “Your arrival really riled up the people. They signed a petition to have you disqualified, did you know that?”

“No, how could I? I only just got through an Ordeal…”

“Ah… the Ordeal, yes, of course. That’s why Ravencrow hesitated. Management was uncertain…”

“About what?”

The door took us into a long service corridor. Kerry sped her pace, not answering. We reached an elevator and she pressed a button. A broad scanning beam passed across her face and the doors opened. Inside, Kerry pressed a button marked DG — Training Grounds on the control panel and only then answered me:

“You see… You were added to the list of entrants, but nobody expected you to make it here. So the petition wasn’t taken seriously either: why set a precedent when gameplay would sort things out? You weren’t even assigned an assistant…”

“Aren’t you my assistant?”

“I am, but I only found out half an hour ago when you arrived at Snowstorm Lakes. I actually work in the PR department. The other contestants have assistants hired on a one-time contract. That means your character and information sheet for the viewers won’t be as flashy as the others’. You shouldn’t have…” Kerry yawned, covering her mouth. “Sorry. Didn’t sleep much. I meant to say, next time don’t be late if you want a proper welcome with fairies and fireworks.”

“Yeah, you’re not much of a fairy…”

“Exactly, bro, exactly!” Kerry grinned.

Her teeth were painted too. Black.

The elevator doors opened. We emerged onto a service floor filled with bustling Snowstorm employees.

“The Demonic Games Department works its hardest one month out of the year. The rest of the time it spends getting ready for it,” Kerry said. “But nobody envies them, because… Well, see for yourself…”

Waving to a man sitting down and thoughtfully eating a burger, she shouted:

“Vel, Sheppard’s here!”

“Who? Didn’t you say he’s not coming?” he shouted back angrily. His burger fell from his hands and covered his knees with ketchup. Vel threw the remnants of his food into a wastebasket in annoyance. “Take him to section six first! God, what did I do to deserve all this? We haven’t even compiled the kernel yet!”

“Hey, Alex! Could I take a selfie with you?” asked a girl with layers of makeup and bronzer on her face and a twinkle in her eye. She clicked her comm into camera mode. “Why the long face, huh?! Say ‘ti-i-itties’!”

I smiled automatically, but didn’t even have time to ask the girl’s name before Kerry dragged me along another spacious corridor full of unpacked boxes and heaps of cables. A real two-handed sword leaned against the wall. A corgi ran by us, a projection collar on its neck making its head look like a dragon’s. The little guy barked and flame blew from his