The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series by Dan Sugralinov (iphone ebook reader TXT) 📗

had spent the whole night in her capsule and had been sound asleep, although it was two o’clock in the afternoon. Yawning, the girl wrapped herself up in her sheet and answered:

“I’m Destiny. And I won’t quit Disgardium, father.”

“Yes, you will!” He clenched his jaw and went on dryly: “I spoke to the Gallaghers last week. You can’t even achieve anything in that game on your own! All your successes there are thanks to the Children of Kratos! How am I to look people in the eye? My only daughter, talentless and useless to society! Come to your senses!”

“The clan has nothing to do with my victory in the rangers’ tournament! I won that all on my own!”

“Oh, yes, of course. Just like those trinkets of yours,” he said, nodding at the several palladium bracelets on his daughter’s arm. “You picked them out and paid for them too, didn’t you? Was it hard for you?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, father,” Destiny answered tiredly. “You’re lagging behind in life. You’re backward. The army and the war calcified your mind. You just want to dump the corporation on me so you can retire. Your whole life was army, then business. I! Don’t! Want! That! I want to live my own life, not your lectures!”

“Is that so?” Her father seemed calmly, but there was steel in his voice. “Fine. You can forget about the corporation. You won’t be the heir, all your inheritance will go to charity!”

“I don’t care!”

“You’re thirty, Alissa,” he sighed. “Live as you wish.”

“Hallelujah!”

“And live off what you wish. You can forget about any money from me and your mother. As of today, you pay all your bills yourself!”

“Ooh, I’m so scared! I’ll get everything I need in Disgardium on my own!”

“I can only wish you every success, Alissa. But I very much doubt that you’ll achieve anything at all. I’m going to have a chat with Joshua. I think he will support my disciplinary measures and refuse to help you with the clan. The Children of Kratos have no need for cretins like you.”

“No! You can’t do that!”

“I can and I will.”

“That’s low!”

“You know what? Prove to me that you’re worth something. Even if it is in Disgardium, and I’ll keep paying your bills and I won’t talk to Mr. Gallagher.”

“And how do I prove that?” Destiny seized the offer like a drowning girl clutching at a straw. “You know nothing about Dis…”

“I do know something, as it happens. You’re entering the Demonic Games next year. Your father’s brain isn’t as calcified as you think. Your mom and I will be rooting for you. If you win, then you’ll have proven yourself to us.”

“It’s impossible! I have the wrong class to win!”

“At least get into the top… let’s say 10%. The Games usually have around four hundred contestants… Let’s say the top 40 will be enough for me.”

She could have gotten by without her parents’ money — with her army of fans, easily! But Destiny realized that they were her fans while she was rich and living a lifestyle none of them had ever dreamed of. As soon as her father made good on his threat, many of her fans would turn into haters overnight…

She spent the next several months after that conversation training for the Demonic Games, and when she learned that Scyth was entering the Games, she knew — she had to kill that cheater, throw him out of the Games with her own two hands! That would make her a hero in the eyes of the masses! Society would celebrate her service, and her father would have no choice but to accept it!

She was the first to arrive at Snowstorm Lakes, and she started to act right away, working on every contestant that flew in and trying to convince them that Scyth had to be punished. Nobody took much convincing; most were already prejudiced against him, to put it mildly.

But despite every effort, they had failed to kill him for five days now. Scyth’s only death was when he fell into the Pitfall.

Yesterday, when she heard a trio of gankers had cornered the kid in the woods, she knew: now was her chance. His debuff wasn’t yet known, but judging by the first days, the devs would have given the Threat some nasty penalties. This really was her chance.

In the morning, Destiny learned that Quetzal and Hellfish, not to mention Meister’s raid of crafters, would be protecting Scyth. So she went to see Marcus.

“Not interested,” he chuckled, wincing. “I already lost a bunch of time, I don’t wanna waste another day. My raid is off to conquer the Pitfall.”

“It’ll only take half an hour at the most, Marcus. We go, kill Scyth and everyone else, and we’re done. What do you want?”

Jansson named his price, and Destiny blushed deep red. Yuck! That creep! How dare he?! Money was one thing, Destiny had plenty in reserve, but this..? All the same, her desire to achieve her goal and surprise her father won out:

“Fine. But I get to be the one to finish off Scyth..!”

A knock at the door distracted her from the memory. The AI reported in a muted voice:

“You have a guest, Miss Windsor. Contestant Marcus Jansson. Select option: open, report your absence, suggest returning at another time…

She wished she could hide, pretend to be asleep, wished the ground would swallow her up; she knew why he was here. But sooner or later, she would have to face him. The problem wasn’t going anywhere. Desperately not wanting to, Destiny made herself rise from the bed, rushed to the mirror and examined herself.

“Open,” she ordered Gray, then looked at the ceiling: “Stop streaming! Reason: intimate meeting!”

“Confirming. Stream stopped, nothing recording,” the AI operator reported. “Paused by: Destiny Windsor.”

The door opened. Marcus swaggered