Ddd, p.1
DDD, page 1
Double Demon Discount
Sean West
Contents
Foreword
1. Good Luck!
2. Attrition!
3. Playing with House Money
4. Fight Like There’s No Tomorrow
5. Sucker Punch
6. The Bluff
7. Out of Order
8. I’d Rather be Fishing
9. Painfully Sexy
10. Fools and Children
11. Near-Death Experience
12. Taking Measure
13. What’s For Dinner?
14. Tommy Gun
15. Battle Time!
16. Parlay
17. Strange Bedfellows
18. The Departed
19. Madman
20. Cat’s Out of the Bag
21. The Mettle of a Man
22. Battle of the Bulge
23. Warming Up The Engine!!!
24. Please Select Yes or No
25. I’ve Made A Terrible Decision
26. Den of Pleasures
27. Strange Bedfellows
28. Tit For Tat
29. Out Of His League
30. The Reaper & The Succubus
31. Troublemaker
32. Ruins
33. Backroom
34. Into The Deep
35. Just The Tip
36. Be Careful What You Ask For
37. Into The Dark
38. Eavesdropping
39. Round Peg in a Square Hole
40. Square Peg in a Round Hole
41. Outcasts
42. Bloodbath
43. A Different Kind of Treasure
44. Troublemaker
45. Bonus Round!!!
Afterword
Foreword
Jeshua, a down-on-his-luck but driven man desperate for work, muscles his way back from rock-bottom and into the upper echelons of the 2030s organized crime world—a golden age on the surface. Yet, he faces hard odds in daemon fights ultimately controlled by a seemingly immortal Al Capone.
Summoning a Succubus, however, makes it possible for Jeshua to siphon power through other daemons (to include demons, demonesses, monsters, and dungeons) who have passed through his Inventory. He exchanges them at too-good-to-be-true discounts to suckers who have no idea he’ll be banking Karma off of their victories, but his unexpected rise in power and progression brings dangerous attention to himself and his burgeoning coven.
As we journey through the twisted underbelly of a society obsessed with daemon fights (not unlike Pokémon and Pocket Mortys) and leveling up (similar to Ready Player One), Jeshua’s clever tricks, relentless nature, and machinations will either fuel a meteoric rise to power or bring him to his knees.
Copyright © 2019 by Sean West
DOUBLE DEMON DISCOUNT Copyright © 2019 by Sean West. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction, and no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without permission in writing from the publisher and copyright owner, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Published by DiscoverGameLit, an imprint of GameLitRPG.
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1
Good Luck!
Jeshua strode into the Chicago Artifice Dome with his blinder cap pulled low and shoulders arched back, ready for battle and the chance to be more than a nobody. However, the shiny new fighter at his side, Feral, a Kobold Brute, held less luster than the hordes of powerful and bloodthirsty demons and demonesses already inside the dome. Even so, Jeshua had a good feeling about today.
He wouldn't have risked such a significant line of credit from his bookie if he didn't feel this was his lucky day. He was finally ready to be the underdog who broke the hearts and wallets of spectators betting on the “favorites.” In his eyes, he was about to be a feared champion, and this was his moment.
Instead of being welcomed as a rising star, Jeshua was scanned by a buttoned-up, chignon-wearing bookkeeper. She didn’t even ask his name, pointing at a set of double doors off to the left that led to the underground fights.
Jeshua shook his head in defiance and unjustified confidence.
The bookkeeper looked up from behind her half-inch thick, oversized glasses and glared. “What’s the problem?”
“I want a real fight,” Jeshua demanded.
Feral licked his beastly lips while hovering off to the side.
“You’re joking?”
“I am not. Are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Your scorecard makes it clear that you've had little success to date. Even with a lucky streak, there's no indication that you can harness the power of daemons better than you have in the past.”
“Exactly, I’m unexpected. That’s entertaining.”
“Uh-huh. Cool story, dear.” She glanced at her screen then back at him. “According to your scorecard, you’ve never actually won. So there’s that. I can’t believe I’m wasting my time explaining this to you. Gore is great and all, but the main hall is, to borrow your own words, meant for real fights. Not slaughters.” She then looked at Feral. “Poor creature. He does deserve a much more qualified Warstar.”
Jeshua’s blood boiled and his cheeks flushed with fury. Who was she to question his abilities? He had the bravery part down. He’d been through hell already, even if he was still only in his twenties. And he was willing to do anything to become what he was meant to be. He could see it now: she’d beg his forgiveness on her knees as crowds roared his name.
“Are you done?”
“What’s that?” Jeshua asked, coming out of his stupor of anger and fantasy.
“Are you done imagining my head on a platter as your imaginary fans cheer your name, whatever you go by?”
His shoulders slumped. No matter how much he believed in himself, there was no getting past this gatekeeper without proving himself first. “Fine, if it’s to the pits, then it’s to the pits, but you’ll regret it.”
“I’m quite certain I won’t,” the bookkeeper snipped and moved on to the next contender.
A bell rang in his ear, and a holographic message appeared in Jeshua’s view as an unexpected voice interjected an unwelcome opinion:
“Embarrassing,” Artifice said. “So easily defeated without even putting up a fight. I’m beginning to think your misplaced faith in yourself is…to put it politely, misplaced.”
Jeshua sneered and tried to ignore the omnipresent voice from the Dungeon Core that regulated fights from a secret location. He didn’t have enough Karma to block out her taunts, however, and had no choice but to endure the teasing. The all-powerful and all-sarcastic A.I. made sure of this as she leisurely teased the wannabes and hopeless, wide-eyed prospects.
“You could turn back now,” Artifice offered. “You are on a losing streak, after all. On the other hand, you could tell the silly bookkeeper to go fuck herself. Don’t you believe in yourself, Jeshua? Aren’t you a fighter? Do you need more…assurances before you can be sure whether or not you have a pair?
He couldn’t ignore her, but he could keep on walking as if her taunts didn’t matter.
“Ah, ignorance is bliss,” she continued, “and so is false indifference. Things won’t go well for you today, sweet-cheeks. You’re all looks and no cohones. Come on, go back and give it to the bookkeeper like you mean it. Tell her how you really feel! Tell her to give you the blowjob you deserve from all the future fights you may or may not win.”
No Warlocks had been seen in decades, so Wardens dominated the daemon fights. On his walk of shame to the pit doors, one of these, a cute, young female Warden, checked him out. When she noticed that he only had one daemon in his Inventory, she pretended that she hadn’t seen him. She hurried past and avoided him as if he had a disease.
“Congrats, sugar!” Artifice said. “You’ve gained an achievement. Stay tuned, you’ll love this. I promise. Ignorance is Bliss: +1 Karma; Repulsiveness: +2 Karma, which means you can now avoid social interaction at every turn to avoid the landmines out there. Best to turn back now and call it a night, sugar. Yet, you are consistent, Mr. Overachiever!”
“Thank you,” Jeshua mistakenly said.
“That’s cute,” Artifice replied. “Oh, look, you’ve acquired a bonus. Leveled up to Warstar Level 0 to Warstar Level…0. That’s right. You made a lateral move. Impressive out-of-the-box thinking. Keep this up, and you’ll be at Level 1 by this time next century.”
Jeshua continued to ignore the discouraging notifications, something he’d been led to believe was automated, rather than personal. That helped, knowing that it wasn’t actually personal, but based on a regulatory policy of keeping prospects in their place. He was pretty sure the insults were planned ahead of time and rationed out to everyone with personalized tidbits mixed in. The one thing that kept him from getting flustered was the truth and knowledge that he was actually a Warlock, a secret only he knew. He was pretty sure Artifice wasn’t actually in-the-loop, on that matter. Wardens and Warlocks had been grouped under the umbrella Warstar Class, making it possible for him to hide his birthright—a detriment and an underdog advantage.
It also didn't hurt that he had a handsome, albeit rugged, face. His body was slender while still being muscular, and he was taller than the average man at one hundred and ninety centimeters. What women never got to find out, though, was that he was also well-endowed. Pure luck and chance based on nothing more than random genetics had given him that gift.
In the modern world, none of that mattered without an enviable Inventory. The only thing that guaranteed financial success, fame, power, and security was a respectable Inventory of demons, demonesses, and other monsters. Most people simply called them all “daemons,” the same way they called Wardens and Warlocks by the umbrella term “Warstars.”
Jeshua didn't actually have Feral in his own Inventory. The uptight bookkeeper was right in saying that the Kobold daemon deserved a better Warstar, one who could acquire more powerful warriors and know precisely how to deploy them. Feral was on loan from Gus, the only bookie who would still offer loans to Jeshua, due to his track record of losses. Jeshua was basically his favorite customer at this point. He could be counted on to keep coming back for more and never gain enough to move on. It was debt-servicing at its best.
Not that wins and losses were everything. Jeshua had studied dusty books, actual paper books from an old bookstore, about fighting strategy. There was more to winning a victory than having the most powerful daemons.
Knowing when to switch them out and take advantage of an opponent’s weakness was often overlooked. Jeshua learned that one from stories about the French emperor Napoleon who had targeted opposing armies’ weak spots. Countries weren’t the dominant centers of power anymore, now that organized criminal syndicates reigned supreme. No matter how much strategists like Napoleon Bonaparte had influenced the world, such figures had become like folktales, rarely covered in school under Capone's dominion. All that anyone cared about anymore was what could help them in the here-and-now.
Curriculum focused more on revered strongmen like Machine Gun Kelly, Baby Face Nelson, John Dillinger, and Bugsy Siegel. Basically, anyone Capone admired. If an individual wanted to get ahead in life, they joined up with one of the gangs. Sometimes groups of them formed their own outfits around a person who had managed to acquire a rare Artifact.
Officially, governments still existed and served relatively useful purposes. They often acted as intermediaries or buffers between the actual powers and the public, but the gangs ran the world from “unofficial” positions. No one dared challenge them, and with good reason.
In the year 2030, Capone's outfit had come to be known as the Snorkies, a term initially used for sharp dressers. Since the 1925 rivalry between the North Side Gang and Capone's Chicago Outfit, his power had only increased.
The North Side Gang had attempted to use Capone’s penchant for indulging in female companionship at every opportunity. They tried to trick him into contracting syphilis through an infected brothel hostess. Capone, however, had found an alternative to exposing himself to the risk and rejected the advances of the ambush escort.
He’d been the one to discover daemons, lost to history if it weren't for his expensive taste in jewelry. His desire for costly wristwatches, in particular, led to the discovery of a strange underground criminal market and ultimately his salvation from syphilis. A Capone minion had alerted him to an antique shop money-laundering front for his rivals. He had planned to bomb it and decided to drive by to cement the details in his mind, but a golden wristwatch on display caught his eye, and he put the attack on hold.
Some would later say it was luck, some claimed fate, and others argued that the ritzy watch had called out to him. According to myth, there had been a shining spark through the window. Whatever the real reason—he took notice, and it was a turning point for him and the rest of the world.
The second he slipped the watch over his knuckles and onto his wrist, golden spikes dug into his flesh, sealing his destiny. Relentless decadence, celebrated violence, and sexual power birthed out of that moment as society’s driving motivations.
Witnesses claimed to have seen Capone rise up off the ground as his whole body emitted a golden glow. They couldn’t see what he saw, but he later shared the tale of his experience. A holographic screen, almost like a black-and-white movie screen, appeared before him, and he received a notification that he’d acquired a Level Ten Demoness. She could enact Stun to non-daemons, such as humans with or without Artifacts of their own. She also could harm other daemons with a rather powerful Entrap ability, which caused opponents to be frozen and allowed her to attack without fear of retaliation.
At the time, there were no Artifice battles. Capone realized he could control the battle outcomes by becoming the de facto regulator. The particular Artifact he’d discovered had set him up with an unfair advantage that no Tommy-Gun could punch a hole through.
He became obsessed with finding and collecting as many other Rare Artifacts as he could get his greedy hands on. He went so far as to build a massive multi-level underground bunker and aboveground warehouse in the heart of Chicago to protect the Artifacts he couldn’t carry around with him.
Having gained a head-start, Capone quickly built up his Inventory with no long-term plan as of yet, spending whatever it took to get as many Artifacts as possible. Other outfits thought he’d lost his mind. He’d delegated control over most criminal enterprises, temporarily, so he could buy up even more Artifacts.
Aga, his first powerful daemon, was the reason. She’d shared a secret with him—in hopes of gaining favor with someone who could ensure her safety, as well as a life of decadence.
She told him that when a Warstar engaged in sexual activity with a demoness in their Inventory, her power would increase after reaching orgasm. This, in turn, would give the Warstar more power and influence. Never one to shy away from a chance at more strength or sex, Capone took her words to heart. He focused on amassing demonesses, aphrodisiacs, and as much sex as humanly possible. His harem grew, and so did his power.
When the North Side Gang made their move to take him out, Capone intentionally pretended to fall for an ambush, only to deploy Aga’s ability to harm humans. On his command, Aga Stunned the attackers. He then ordered his henchmen to come out of hiding, and they unleashed a full five minutes of bullets from their Tommy-Guns at the stunned intruders—long after their bodies had ceased moving. Not a single shot fired in return. It was a slaughter.
Word of his unexpected victory spread fast, and other gangs quickly began collecting Artifacts. They would have had a chance if it weren’t for Capone’s latest and most significant acquisition. Almost everyone who was attempting to follow in his footsteps focused on jewelry, especially expensive jewelry. They didn't realize that Artifacts came in countless shapes and sizes. Of course, the greatest criminal-of-all-time already knew this.
He’d acquired an Artifact that was tied to a Dungeon Core daemon. When the other gangs thought they’d gained an advantage by uniting, picking up on his game, and moving in for the kill, they essentially committed themselves to a death trap.
One-by-one, they were picked off as they entered into Capone’s domain, utterly unaware of the dangers that a Dungeon presented. The oversized and funky-looking bunker he’d built in the heart of the city was to host his Dungeon. Basically, his foes were all fucked.
The gates were stormed. The barriers were breached. The inner chamber was challenged – all by those who had no defenses or attacks against a Dungeon, because they’d never even imagined or seen one coming. Capone’s base of operations was secure, and they fell for the ruse.
Capone had the drop on his rivals and attackers once again. He’d slow-played them. Once they were all inside the Dungeon, which was under his full control, he eliminated them in the most gruesome fashion possible. He ordered his newly-acquired Dungeon to suffocate them to death with the Artifacts they carried on them.
