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

ran out into the corridor in my birthday suit and a fury, Hellfish explained that all of us would get the grand prize, Concentrated Life Essence, but back on our real characters.

“When you log into Dis, you’ll have an audience with Eynyon,” Quetzal confirmed. “The main thing is not to be late.”

“Here, Alex,” Kerry said, turning away and handing me a towel. I waved it away.

“What if I am late?”

Hellfish tore himself away from the mouth of an already half-empty champagne bottle.

“Then they send it in the mail.” Holding his celebratory drink out to one side, he took me by the head, touched his forehead to mine and shouted happily in my face: “WE DID IT!”

Chapter 30. What The Sleeper Said

I SLEPT UNTIL LUNCHTIME, broken and in my clothes. The Home Doctor helped clear the hangover, and a contrast shower woke me up. Memories started to drift back, first flashing up vividly, then slipping away.

All I remembered clearly was that we had defeated Abaddon yesterday and then started celebrating practically right away. Everything up to dinnertime came back easily, but beyond that I only had scraps of recollection.

We pushed our way through crowds of the media to get to the elevators, and by then my allies’ tongues were already flapping. Even I couldn’t help but drain a bottle of ludicrously expensive champagne, Meister’s treat.

“Cristal Brut,” he said, and added something else I didn’t understand.

The scent of expensive wine wafted through all the corridors of the hotel. The walls flashed with holographic fireworks, the air crackled with the noise of celebration. People kept coming up to me, the men shaking my hand, the women hugging and kissing me…

All in a babbling crowd, we reached the hall of ceremonies. There was seated Youlang Hao, alone, hiding in a far corner and lamenting her lost victory. Nobody gave a damn about her, really, but I still dragged my retinue that way.

“Good game, Youlang,” I said, stretching out a hand.

Slowly, the spellcaster reached out, shook my hand. She closed her eyes and nodded.

“After you abandoned your search, I was sure I’d win. I must admit, your victory over the final boss was… incredible! Congratulations!” Youlang smiled.

Instead of the usual dinner, there was a cocktail party — with no tables and no stage, but with one Octius, who seemed to be already downwind of a few drinks. He conducted the closing ceremony of the Games with his customary pomp and triumph. I remember well how he started arguing with Bloomer in front of millions of viewers, then started fighting him. Hand to hand.

“I’ll take the winner!” Joker shouted, jumping up and down with excitement.

After a lively commentary of the highlights from the battle with Abaddon, Octius actually asked the question on all the viewers’ minds:

“Alex, why did you not inform the raid of what you planned to do?”

My allies all started shouting over each other drunkenly, offering up their own answers. I smiled, shook my head at them.

“That’s why. We would have argued till nightfall and there’d have been no battle.”

“You do know it was a risk, right?” Guy Barron said, pressing me. “What if you didn’t make it within the hour window of your ability to resurrect the fallen? Or if you had the mechanics wrong and had to start the fight over?”

“I know,” I answered seriously. “It wasn’t an easy decision to make. After all, if it didn’t work, nobody would have believed that I hadn’t just sold them down the river.”

Suddenly, Chloe Cliffhanger appeared, frowning, her lips set in a thin smile. Stepping forward, she invited us to applaud for Kiran Jackson. Nobody so much as twitched a finger. The director spoke first to us and the viewers, and then to the journalists, celebrating our success so enthusiastically that it was impossible to believe he might be sincere.

I just surrendered to the atmosphere of celebration in the room. Even Kiran’s sour face couldn’t spoil the party. We would get fifteen essences! My allies assured me that they wouldn’t use them, just in case Snowstorm decided to screw me over and take my reward away.

Then, alongside the entire team of organizers including Octius, we headed for club Boom Boom. From that point on, it all got foggy. All I remember is that the girls really let their hair down. When I woke up, my whole face and neck were covered in lipstick and love bites.

The doorbell rang as I was leaving the bathroom. I asked the AI helper to switch on the intercom. Hairo Morales’s voice came through the speakers:

“Hey, Alex! Congratulations on your big win and all that, but come on, time to pack! We’ve been waiting for you all morning! Black Toyota Ramesses on the southwestern side. We’re in the parking lot.”

Thank the Sleepers! I was afraid the security officers might not be allowed in to the category-A citizenship zone, that I might have to take a flyer to the edge of the Snowstorm Lakes district. The one I flew in on went straight back to Hairo on autopilot as soon as I left it.

I didn’t have much with me, so I got packed up fast. They were already taking down the decorations downstairs. Camera operators, stylists, technicians and all the other staff who had made Demonic Games XIX a reality walked around like the dead.

Suddenly remembering about souvenirs, I stopped in at the stall and filled my backpack with all sorts of garbage with the logo of the Games on it — for friends. For myself, I took a holographic poster showing an image of our entire team of champions — depending on the viewing angle, the picture changed from our real bodies to our characters, — then went down to the lobby.

All my allies but Renato were already gathered there. They were sat on their