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

the best until the end. And there was no way to verify the result, no way to argue! If it goes on like this, I’m going to be thrown out of here on day one!

The gamesmaster raised his left hand and snapped his fingers. A filthy black cauldron rose from beneath the floor, its brown contents emitting clouds of black smoke.

“And that’s the bad cauldron,” Anna noted.

Fastidiously dipping his arm in the gloop, Octius pulled out a ball of tar. I watched enchanted as the container exploded into oily smoke and a holographic description of my ‘reward’ appeared above the master of ceremonies:

Cursed Cripple

 

Your limbs are broken. They cannot be healed.

 

-75% movement speed.

 

-50% damage dealt.

 

Duration: 24 hours.

 

“Wo-oo-oo!” the whole room roared, all leaping to their feet and shaking their fists.

Theodore, master of the Pet Battles at the Arena, squeezed my shoulder. “My sympathies, Alex.”

“Yeah, doesn’t get much worse than that,” Anna said, looking off to the side. “But that’s what you deserve. Success should be earned. You’re just a wannabe who got lucky…”

Quetzal the gladiator caught my eye, grinned and ran a finger across his throat.

When the founding father of Snowstorm, Mike Anderson, came on-stage to wish us all luck, I saw none of it. I stared straight ahead with my back straight, gazing at the spotlights until my eyes teared up and remembering that it wasn’t just my enemies watching the stream.

My parents, Uncle Nick, Ed, Hung, Irita, Gyula, Manny, the people of Cali Bottom and even Aaron Quon could see me then. I couldn’t believe that all the players now hated me for some reason. There were too many on my side.

And they had to see that I wasn’t broken.

Chapter 4. Let The Demonic Games Begin!

AFTER THE CEREMONY, everyone relocated to the recreation level to continue the party. I locked myself in my room instead — I needed to read The Demonic Games: The Complete Rulebook. It would be dumb to start my first day at the Games unprepared.

The main thing I wanted to find out was which abilities I’d still have in the Cursed Chasm. But I couldn’t find anything specific in the book — it seemed like we would keep our class abilities and everything earned from achievements, but I didn’t know if I’d still have Depths Teleportation. Or Flight. It would be good if I did. But I found no clarity, so I had to come up with separate strategies for the different options.

The comm I’d been given distracted me a lot at first with constant notifications of new messages in an app created specially for contestants of the Games. Judging by the photos, the other contestants were having a blast. Nobody was thinking about the hangover to come — everyone had a personal Home Doctor in their room to take care of that.

I put the comm into sleep mode so it wouldn’t bother me, read the rest of the rulebook and moved onto History of the Demonic Games, where I learned that Mogwai had managed to triple his health when he became the champion. His strategy was interesting: the druid powered through the first two-hundred levels, tanking all the bosses and kiting the others, and then deliberately left combat with some gate guards so that his raid group fell. He finished off the boss solo, while the others lost levels and fell behind. His advantage growing, Mogwai returned to the upper floors and started killing players this time.

In the morning, I woke up to a soft neutral voice:

“Wake up, Mr. Sheppard! Wake up!”

Rising, I looked around the room. Nobody there. The voice belonged to my AI helper and seemed to be coming from everywhere at once:

“Good morning, Mr. Sheppard! Would you like breakfast in your room or would you prefer to visit one of our twelve restaurants?” A holographic panel appeared before me with a description of the venues on offer. “If you would like to take a bath, please indicate your preferred temp…”

“I’m fine, thanks,” I waved it away. I never had an appetite in the morning, but it was important to eat. I’d need a lot of energy for my first day in the Games. “Breakfast in my room, please.”

The AI squawked out the names of dishes, projecting their holograms before me, but I cut it off again and asked for an ordinary omelette with bacon and tomatoes, jam toast, coffee and a glass of orange juice.

While breakfast was on the way, I took a shower and read the day’s itinerary. The Games began at midday with an uninterrupted eight-hour session in a capsule. Then dinner and a review of the best moments of the day, plus a mandatory interaction with the media. Then free time and a few activities to choose from, including a couple of concerts, no-rules robot battles and dancing… The organizers approved of any activity that could lead to romantic connection, intrigue and scandal. The real part of the Games was just as entertaining to the viewers as the virtual part.

At eleven, when I’d already had breakfast, Kerry called me on the comm. My assistant examined my face closely and seemed pleased.

“You look refreshed. Sleep did you good. Get ready; I’ll be coming to get you in an hour. Octius is hosting a briefing to remind you all of the rules, then it’s into the fray!”

I spent that half an hour in my room, still reading the stories of the other champions. I had no desire to interact with the other contestants after what happened last night. Then Kerry came in, took me to the immersion level and showed me to the room set aside for me.

Each contestant had their own isolated immersion room, and it was three times bigger than any non-citizen cell. Apart from a capsule, it contained