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

was no chance of breakfast; I only had just enough time to get ready and run to the immersion zone. My only snack was a Healthy Fuel energy bar I grabbed at the minibar. It was basically just UNB pressed into a bar and covered in chocolate, but a little tastier. Theoretically, it contained everything the body needs. In practice, you’d kick the bucket in a couple of months if you ate nothing else.

As I walked quickly down the corridor, I tried to contact Kerry, but her comm was in do-not-disturb mode. Fine. I didn’t need her that much anyway, it was just strange. Wasn’t it her job to be with me at all times?

Anyway, I was still angry that she forgot to wake me up! Or didn’t think she had to? Either way, it was unprofessional. I had big plans for the morning! My plans of last night all depended on whether I could… Nether, now I’d have to put it all off until the evening.

Today I didn’t drop my eyes — I looked right into the faces of the other contestants, trying to figure out which of them were my secret allies. I even said hello to a few, but abandoned that after nobody answered me back. Michelle, who played a dryad in Dis, just looked away when we met. Only old Joseph nodded when we passed each other in the immersion zone. I wanted to talk to him alone and I headed toward him, but Meister acted as if he didn’t notice, sped his feet and smiled to someone else:

“Good morning, my dear! Slept well?”

He got a vaguely muttered response. Generally, as I walked through the immersion zone, I felt that something imperceptible had changed. If in the first days everyone was upbeat, joking and talking, now… Most of the players walked in concentrated silence, like our miners on their way to a shift.

When I reached my capsule, I tried to call Kerry again. No answer. I shrugged and put her out of my mind — this was the first time in four days that I’d be playing without penalties. I had to get the maximum possible use out of it.

I appeared on the floor of the Pitfall and waited for my eyes to adjust to the gloom and for Night Vision to activate, then looked around.

My first thought was that I had to get out of there as fast as my Flight could carry me. The viewers had given me a chance to play without penalties, and my most important job for the day was to kill at least one mob, or better yet, get a level or two. I even discarded the idea of leveling up Meditation at the bottom of the Pitfall. No matter how important my max spirit was, I’d disappoint the public if I sat there all day, and then they’d make me the worst player again. Then the debuffs might rip away any chance I had of winning…

My thoughts broke off when I felt a sudden heat on my forehead, as if a white-hot tentacle was trying to crawl inside my skull. I looked at the open gates. An eye flashed in the blackness like the mouth of a volcano spewing lava, then a rumble came from within:

“The barrier cleansed you of their marks, mortal, but you cannot fool me! Have they returned?”

I felt an overwhelming urge to answer, to talk to him. I felt comfortable and cozy, as if I wasn’t on the floor of the Pitfall in the Cursed Chasm, a chunk of land torn off reality itself and demonically melded with a fragment of the Inferno, but sitting in a tavern with my friends at the end of a beautiful day. Talking, joking, sharing in successes and drinking ale. As if it wasn’t a demon, but Bomber or Crawler asking whether the Sleeping Gods had returned. My desire to divulge everything I knew was so strong that I opened my mouth even before I knew exactly what I wanted to say.

“They never went anywhere! They exist and always will, unlike us. We’re just their dream, after all!”

“Oh, my… what a familiar speech!” the demon growled. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the grin in his voice. “But that is not what I asked! Have the Sleepers found a new incarnation? Not all at once, certainly, otherwise it would already be known in the Underworld. Just one, then? Leviathan? The sea rovers respected him. I doubt the New Gods have brainwashed them. Or Kingu? That one knew how to hide…” His voice took on an oily tone. “So who is it, mortal?”

Everything I knew about demons shouted at me: say nothing! I opened my mouth to answer, but immediately forced my teeth closed again. It was clear what he was trying to do. He wanted to get me talking and then lure me out from beneath the dome. Another idea came to mind: since I had to sit here and not become the hero of the day, I could at least try to give the viewers something new.

“First you tell me your name!”

In the first instant, I thought an earthquake had begun: the earth beneath my feet trembled and began to move in waves, stones fell from the walls and the gates flew off their hinges. But it turned out it was only the demon’s laughter.

“You are either a naive fool or a clever intruder, mortal! A-ha-ha-ha! Tell you my name? Perhaps I should just let you put a slave collar on me? Or draw you a Subjugation Pentagram? A-ha-ha-ha!”

Was he screwing around? I could just check it in the interface! As if hearing my thoughts, the demon spoke again:

“I will not tell you my real name. The mortals called me Abaddon. Call me that, if you wish to know who will be devouring your soul. Your