The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series by Dan Sugralinov (e book reader free .TXT) 📕

“Very well. Then we will give your savior a chance to talk. Will they reveal their deed, or will they leave it for the judgment of their colleagues?”

Sharply pushing back his chair, the one who stood up was… Renato Loyola! Quetzal! I was right!

His voice was amplified for the whole hall to hear:

“I was the one who did it.”

“Idiot!” Marcus spat in fury, until now forced to hold back his emotions.

The gamesmaster was already next to Quetzal:

“Will you explain what for, Renato? Or rather, why?”

“The whole thing was too messed up, Guy,” Quetzal said calmly. “I couldn’t go against the others, but for myself I decided to protect the kid, and let the chips fall where they may. I couldn’t watch a crowd of people who think themselves worthy of imitation act that way — just kill a defenseless kid. Like a pack of jackals! It’s pathetic, dishonorable! The viewers gave him plenty of debuffs as it was, enough that he had no chance at all. How much do we have to humiliate him? Enough is enough!” And the next words he enunciated to hammer the point home: “This. Was. Dishonorable.”

Renato looked at me. I nodded my acknowledgment to him and he closed his eyes for an instant. In the meantime, Octius spoke excitedly:

“How entertaining! After all your direct conflicts with Alex, including the very first, at registration, the viewers couldn’t possibly have thought it was you, Renato! But all one had to do was think logically! Who could have used an ability like that, and at such low levels, on only the third day of the Games? Only someone with a best player’s reward! It couldn’t have been Tissa — we know what she got — and so, who remains? Roman the troll and Quetzal the titan! All very simple, ladies and gentlemen!”

At the end, Octius examined a few other less important events, such as Roman’s reflected curse, for which the troll got it in the neck from Destiny Windsor. Even I didn’t like hearing what she had to say about the curser. Then the gamesmaster reviewed the moment when the hobbit Dave and the dryad Michelle helped me, but it remained unclear who had put up the shields. Nobody made any admissions.

“I couldn’t not help,” said the dryad, who had turned out not only to be a singer, but also a healer. “It isn’t about Scyth, I don’t even like him. But I’m a simple girl — I see someone hurt, I heal them. I want to sing, I sing…”

“What did your group say?” Octius asked.

“The group can shove its opinion up its ass. I saved them and even got knocked out of the Games thanks to those clumsy assholes!” The girl’s gentle voice contrasted sharply with her manner of speech.

“I just wanted to fight that awful woman,” Dave said, pointing at Destiny. “I don’t give a damn who I fight, she was just the closest!”

Meister was named the best player of the third day, and I had to agree that he deserved it.

“According to our viewers, the worst player of the day is…” Octius smiled, cast a fleeting glance at me. “Joker the engineer! He found himself in the spotlight when he tried to blow up Scyth and succeeded only in detonating his own raid!”

Really? Had the viewers finally seen the light, or was Snowstorm afraid of the online uproar? Whatever the case, tomorrow I would have a chance… Although… If the Aegis remained active, I could take the opportunity to level up my spirit as much as I needed! And nobody could hurt me, not even the demon!

When the show ended, I stayed at the table instead of hurrying back to my room. The journalists had plenty of victims without me: the players eaten by the demon; Kharmo’Lav; Meister; Quetzal and Marcus, who had fallen out and fractured the leading group in the process; the Modus members with their treacherous betrayal, Anna and Hellfish… Even Kimberley. The dwarf girl who had landed on the tip of my icy shield got her share of attention after the highlights, becoming a hero of memes, and was now happily giving comments.

As for me, despite all that had happened, I felt a rush of excitement, albeit restrained. Today, for the first time since I got to the Games, I realized I wasn’t alone. Modus, the Travelers and Anna were on my side. Quetzal’s group weren’t quite allies, but they weren’t quite enemies either. And then Michelle, Dave, the mysterious benefactors who covered me with shields. Maybe it was worth changing my strategy?

It was time to socialize. Talk. Find out who I could rely on and who to join forces with. Kerry was right when she gave me that sage advice. Where was she, anyway?

Speak of the devil. She showed up as soon as I thought of her. The defense droids rolled in behind her.

“Alex!” she said, her face beaming. “Behold! Before you stands a new Kerry Hunter, not the old one you knew. That Kerry was boring and unwealthy…”

“Where’ve you been, Hunter?”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. She smelled of wine.

“Been celebrating something?”

“I’ll say! But ssshhh!” Kerry put a finger to her lips and whispered: “Keep it between us, yeah? This morning I bet my month’s salary that you’d last the day! With things the way they were this morning, literally EVERYONE bet against me! All the assistants! I’m a rich girl now!”

Her outlandish gesticulations were starting to draw attention. Some security guards whispered something to each other, then started toward us.

“Come on, Kerry, time to go. You can tell me all about it later.”

“We goin’ to the media center?”

“Uh-huh,” I said, deciding to selfishly take advantage of her condition. “But first, help me contact my friends.