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

whispered something to Loran, aka Messiah the shapeshifter magician, seated next to her. Then, her hateful eyes drilling into me, she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear:

“Uncultured child!”

“Hey, Alex!” Loran said, beckoning me over with a finger. Camera drones buzzed around us. “Come here!”

I stayed where I was, not trying to approach, but not leaving either. I just raised an eyebrow.

“Come on, Alex, I don’t bite…” Messiah drawled. “Or did all your bravery disappear with your Threat abilities? You know, I really thought you were worth something. No, really, I even felt sorry for you! We didn’t know anything about you, after all. And when I saw how you got attacked at registration, I felt for you. I really did! I thought, look at that poor boy, nobody loves him, aww! I should support him, I thought, let him know that Loran is the only one on his side.”

More and more drones had flown in to stream us. They filmed Messiah from all angles, and he basked in the limelight. The whole world was watching him, and he, so brave, so just, so kind, was milking his minute of fame a moment before the disqualification of the world’s bogeyman — Scyth, Class-A Threat.

“And now day four has ended,” Messiah continued, not forgetting to look from side to side so that everyone could see his proud profile. “And what have we seen? Pathetic plays, cowardice, and trickery in all its forms! My God, everything you do is just tricks, Alex!” he shook his head and clicked his tongue, sighed heavily and spread his arms. “Such is life! The weak and inept will do anything for a place under the sun. You’re like a cockroach crawling out into the light and suddenly thinking you’re equal to us! To everyone who got high citizenship status, high level and ranks in Disgardium through hard work alone, their own and that of their ancestors! You’re the incarnation of the idiotic dreams of lowly freeloaders everywhere! The kind of people who spend their whole lives lying on the couch and dreaming of waving a magic wand to become rich and famous. They’re the ones that support you, Sheppard…” Loran paused.

“Huh. And you’re an aristocrat, I guess?” I asked. Strangely, his words didn’t bother me, just amused me. “Blue blood?”

“Oh, don’t be envious,” he said. “Maybe you have support from the inwinova and other such undesirables, but you have no business in our circle. Remember that once and for all!”

Loran waved vaguely with the back of his hand — as if to say leave, I’m done with you, — and sat back, folding his arms. For my part, although partly accepting his position — it was true, I’d been lucky, — I was more surprised that he was the one saying it and not Destiny. These were basically her words, since, as far as I knew, Loran himself wasn’t from a high-category background. He’d got to the top through Dis.

Anger flared up, not at Messiah or Destiny themselves, but at all those who called themselves chosen ones while they ‘grant’ everyone else rest the right to exist. Those who consider themselves better by default, forgetting that not all castes have the luck to be born talented, smart, rich and beautiful. Stunning Destiny had had the luck to be the daughter of the owner of a large corporation, but what good had she herself done for humanity? The best tutors and education, genetic correction, an indulgent youth and Disgardium — that was her life.

Messiah had delivered this one-man performance with some goal in mind. But I was no mute actor, no decoration. My mind suppressed the emotions rising up like steam from beneath a kettle lid. I could use the shapeshifter’s words. The main audience of the Games were the very people that Loran had called undesirables. Seeing out of the corner of my eye that the camera drones hadn’t flown away and were waiting for events to develop, I spoke to Messiah:

“A man’s in-game name says a lot about him, Loran. Yours doesn’t just talk, it shouts about who you dreamed of becoming when you chose it. Messiah — the Lord’s anointed, right? The second incarnation of Christ? Or just a herald of the new gods? Whatever you had in mind, apparently you wanted to become something bigger than you are, and bring something good into the world. That was your dream, right?”

“Where’s the crime in that?” Loran smiled, addressing the cameras. “Teenagers dream of all sorts of things.”

The hall froze. There was no sound but the whirr of the mosquito cloud of hovering drones.

“The crime is that you betrayed your childhood dreams,” I said. “When you became a great magician, you gained access to the strongest in the world of Dis. Your dream was to enter the Children of Kratos. Yeah, I watched your interview, you kept bringing that up. Even now, by sitting next to Destiny and parroting her thoughts to me, you think you’ve taken one more step toward that dream. Wow, the Children of Kratos! That closed-off clan has the best of the best in the real world, and if they take you, then you’ll be just like them, right? And until then, at least you can make big speeches. Our circle… You make me laugh, Messiah. You’re not in their circle. You’re let close, but not let in. And if they do let you in, then your circle is very small, a chosen few, the elite.”

“Pfft…” he scoffed. “That’s the whole point, Sheppard! Only the worthy, and those are one in a million! Who’s in your circle?”

“My circle is all the rest. The low-category citizens, the non-citizens — they’re my circle! And I say that proudly!”

“Bullshit,” Messiah snorted. “A cheap attempt to win over the public!”

“Playing games with the public is your thing, dro…”

In total silence, I turned away and walked