Path of Spirit (Disgardium Book #6): LitRPG Series by Dan Sugralinov (i read books TXT) 📕

and Shak onto the floor. There was so much of it that we were soon surrounded by heaps of weapons and armor. Infect immediately forgot about his muddy skulls and fragments, and everyone else livened up too, started digging through the gear, weapons, magical items, gleaming gemstones. I glanced at our mage and remembered another of Uncle Nick’s old sayings:

“Hold your horses with the Disenchantment for now. I’ll hand in Fortune’s quest, maybe it’ll raise your chances of a successful Disenchantment. We won’t sell the ingredients. No need to strengthen potential enemies with Armageddon. You’re welcome to use Enchantment in leveling. What was the second question?”

“Follows from the first,” Crawler asked. “Our strategy for selling loot. Irita suggests we try to get the maximum possible out of each item, pay to clear the item history and put them up at auction with a long duration.”

“Or I can sell it all in bulk through merchants I know,” the girl added. “There’ll be huge losses, but the river of money will start flowing right away.”

“The first option,” I decided without hesitation. “We’re playing the long game. Pick out the best gear, we’ll sell it through the ASS. Irita, you’ll have to come with me for the next meeting with the goblins. We’ll try to break the system and get them to work with you without the rep.”

“Hehehe! Please not through the ASS!” Bomber laughed.

“The ASS!” Irita said with a starry look in her eye and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you!”

The ASS jokes went on another couple of minutes, the air thick with giggling, and I took my chance to get another cup of coffee from Eniko.

“Cooking,” Crawler said, moving the discussion on. “What are we doing with our ingredients? Do you plan to level up the craft?”

“Yeah. I don’t know when, but don’t sell anything. Also, don’t put up Roast Undead Rat Chitterlings under any circumstances. The ingredients for the dish will be rare soon, we might need them.” I looked at the system clock. Oyama was probably already awake. “What else?”

“This isn’t urgent, but still best that you know. Investments in real life. We can’t invest in risky projects, so I’ll ask again: are you sure we should get tangled up with that company I mentioned?”

I scratched my forehead.

“Uhm… Which one?”

“The First Martian Company, founded by one Zoran Savic. I found him and learned something interesting! Basically, the guy is in big trouble over a patent — Snowstorm is suing him. It’s about neurointerface technology with internet access. No lenses, glasses — all the info is displayed directly on the retina. Makes the comm obsolete. Sounds awesome, but Zoran doesn’t have any thorough tests or stable prototypes.”

“Did he tell you that himself?”

“No, it’s online and in Snowstorm’s press release in the News section. Feels like the corp is sinking the project. Zoran himself said he isn’t interested in outside investors. I hinted that you and he knew each other, and he said he’d only talk to you.” Crawler shook his head. “No, he doesn’t know who you are.”

“Try again. Say hi to him from Murphy, he should get it.”

The council meeting ended there. We exchanged news: Bomber had been working on Orthokon, while Infect had been digging up and collecting Archeological Finds, which he still had to clean to figure out what they were.

In the meantime, we got some unhappy news from Jenkins the hobbit: We have invented several interesting dishes, recipes attached. Unfortunately, nothing with cold resistance. We can continue experimenting if you send us more resources.

I studied the recipes, one of which had an amusing half-hour Slippery effect, then told Jenkins there would be no more resources for now. I wanted to save something for my own cooking experiments.

I’d tried all I could to solve the cold problem. All I could hope for now was a hint from Fortune.

Irita caught up to me at the tavern door. We said nothing for half a minute, standing shoulder to shoulder in the street. The girl touched my hand, at first shyly, then squeezing my palm.

“Hey, can I move in with you guys?” she asked, blushing. “I can help with finances, legal issues. I don’t know where it is you’re living, but…”

“If it were up to me… Honestly, Rita, I’d be happy to see you there, would make a change from just the guys…” My heart started beating faster and my voice turned hoarse. “But it isn’t safe there yet. Let’s talk about it again after the Demonic Games, okay?”

“So you’re going to enter after all?”

“We have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Irita said, looking me hard in the eye. “The question is, do you choose, or does someone make the choice for you?”

 

 

Chapter 16. Supreme Grand Master Oyama

AN UNFAMILIAR GUARD stood behind the village palisade. Lazily inquiring as to who I was and what I wanted, he blew a horn to summon Dzigoro. A drawn-out alarm call trumpeted out over Jiri. Remembering the last meeting, I took off my armor, leaving me in trousers and shirt.

A panting Dzigoro arrived a minute later. His head flashed above the palisade, disappeared. I heard the big man chewing out the guard:

“Are you mad? Too lazy to come get me? Ass stuck to your chair?”

“Well, you came,” the guard’s melancholy voice replied. “Why walk back and forth?”

“Explain that to the elder yourself, cretin! He’ll give you ‘back and forth’!”

The gates swung open to Dzigoro’s muttering and swearing. The night-shift sentry moved to block the way. He was half again as tall as me, and could have stopped Sharkon with his chest. I looked him up and down, amazed, then offered him the promised hundred gold. The coins disappeared in his huge grasp, and Dzigoro moved off to one side.

“Sixth house on the right,” he pointed the way.