The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 413: Survival

"We kicked the bejesus out of 'em," Becky said with a grin as Mason tried to relax in a booth on the house balcony. "I even got a kill with Old Betsy." She summoned her mace for effect. Carl nodded in agreement with his eyes closed.

"They pretty much broke and ran instantly. But these other boys damn near got themselves exploded. It was a pretty close thing, and..."

"We fought the Guild," Phuong interrupted. "But our strategy, and Alex's incredible strength against ranged, won the day with three losses."

Mason nodded, feeling another wave of relief.

"That's a tough team. Anything else out there left to match it?"

"Unlikely." Phuong frowned. "I wonder if the winners will be simple last men standing, or if some of the 'losing' teams will compete again. It seems unfair for the caster team, or indeed Jeong and his partner, to be out so early based on nothing but chance."

"Chance, and our fecking badassery," Seamus said, raising a glass of something obviously alcoholic.

Mason gave Phuong a 'keep your people in check' kind of look, pulling Haley next to him in the booth. She smiled and gave him a shoulder nudge, which was a bit comical given her size compared to his.

"I was worried for a minute there," she said quietly.

Mason grinned and put an arm around her, not bothering to say anything. She took a breath as her eyes glazed.

"No change messages from the system. As far as I can tell, you just keep on fighting until it's over. But I don't see any real risks now. You've as good as won."

Mason nodded, feeling a good chunk of his worry lifting off his shoulders. At least for now.

"You think the fight...changed anything?" he said. "I mean...for the eastern people. For Jeong. Any idea what the mood might be now?"

Haley shook her head. "We'll wait and see. I'll ask all the girls to talk and see what people are saying. But it can't be good. There isn't much yet to leaders in this new world except 'who's the strongest'. And if you lose a fight what exactly makes you legitimate? No offence."

"None taken. That's what I was saying all along."

"What are we whisperin' about?" Becky slid across the bench and slammed into Mason's other side. "Is it somethin'...sexy?"

"You know I remember when you were a scared, half-helpless girl lost in the forest," Mason said, putting his other arm around her shoulders.

"Wasn't half helpless," Becky muttered. "And I wasn't really lost, neither. Can't be lost when you've no idea where yer goin'."

Mason supposed he couldn't argue with that. He lost himself in the warmth and pleasure of both girls in a three-way hug, kissed Haley's hair. His players were all laughing and celebrating like they'd already won, and he supposed they largely had. There was still a few good teams in the threes—including Blake's. But they had likely already won the twos and sixes, and would place very highly in every category.

The individual fights, of course, were far from over. Jeong was still there. He could knock out plenty of Nassau's players before Mason fought him again. The thought wasn't a pleasant one, because when a man like that lost his composure you could never know what would happen.

Would he get unstable? Would he try to beat every player with as much damage and torture as possible before they gave up or died?

Mason took a breath and hoped the man was flying off the handle right now. That maybe he'd be so angry he'd break the Neutral Zone rules and get himself kicked out or even killed. But it didn't seem likely.

Haley tapped his head to tell him he was probably thinking too much. He gave her a smile, lifting her to his lap sideways as she draped her arms around his neck.

"We need more champagne," he said. "And whatever French Canadian food you've been missing. And we need it now."

Haley grinned and kicked her feet in Becky's lap on Mason's other side.

"Cheese," she said. "It definitely all starts with cheese."

* * *

Jeong stared at the hollow eyes of a god in the darkness. Golden light flickered with black beams, the skeletal giant sitting in his throne, hidden in the dancing shadows.

"You’ve disappointed me," he said in his rasping voice. "How many times do you think I'll spare your life?"

You didn’t spare me, Jeong wanted to say, I didn’t actually die. But knew now wasn't the moment for arrogance. The reality was, though, his own rage and shame at the loss against his enemy was already crushing. He didn't need to be chastised further, to be reminded of his failure. What was the point of admitting his errors? Did the eternal god think he didn't know?

"What will you do now," hissed the giant. "How will you build my immortal kingdom?"

"Nothing has changed. I'll adapt," Jeong said, feeling sweat bead on his brow. He wondered if he was still in the Neutral Zone physically, or some other place. Was this all in his mind?

"Everything has changed!" roared the skeletal mouth. "I can still hear the horned god's laughter from beneath the ancient paths. I hear him rutting with his whores. Drinking from his cups. And why shouldn't he? His champion bested mine."

"Today, my lord," said Jeong quickly. "But I have an army. I have a Nexus to exploit. I can force many more of my citizens to become Empty Vessels. This tournament is lost, but there will be other moments." Jeong felt the unfairness, the constant defeats. He felt like a little boy again standing before his mother in tears, trying to explain how he'd failed again to find any food.

‘There were rats again, mother,’ he’d said, hands twisting in front of him. ‘They're so fast and there's so many. They find the scraps before I do.’

She'd beaten him when she had the strength. But usually she just called him names and slunk off in despair. She hadn't know, of course, that Jeong was lying. He ate anything he found himself and didn't bring it home. It was wasted on his useless mother and sister. They were never going to survive.

The skeletal giant stared with its hollow sockets and brief flashes of shadowy eyes.

"Though it shames me, you are correct. Despite your failure, you remain my best hope. But you will not allow that man to beat you again. Ever. You will surrender from the tournament and return to the holy city, abandoning any chance at reward."

Jeong bit his tongue so hard it bled to keep from speaking, lowering his head. His patron god waited as if for interruption, finally speaking again.

"You will go out alone into the deserts to the south, there you will seek my ancient temple. There is a weapon of immense power buried beneath it, left long before the doom. With all your gifts it should not have been required. Wielding it will be...difficult, even for an immortal. But it will make you strong. Strong enough to destroy this horned prince and silence his sire. Find it. Defeat its guardians. And perhaps you may yet usher in the endless empire."

Jeong saw the new objective enter his profile. He tried to thank his patron but the darkness vanished with a terrifying screech. Jeong felt himself yanked back to some other realm, felt the hated Baron's blade enter his heart, then ripped again into the Neutral Zone where he awoke in his private quarters.

He was shaking as he stood from his chair, walking mindlessly for a drink of water he soon dropped to the barren tile. What damage would his loss have done to his plans? To the loyalty of the others? He couldn't know. But he suspected not as much as he feared. His people couldn't leave, couldn't fight him. Not yet.

One day, perhaps. But for the foreseeable future Jeong could still rip them all apart. They had no choice but to serve him, to work with him. Their only other hope was to one day betray him for Mason and flee like rats.

Jeongs vision blinked, and he was back in China after his escape, living in the streets with all the other broken, miserable wretches. Jeong had survived. He had caught those quick, clever rats just as he had in his homeland, cooking them over bonfires and even sharing them with others to build goodwill.

My first Empty Vessels, he thought with a broken laugh that scraped the bottom of a sob.

He had survived. He had caught and eaten the rats and one day escaped again, becoming more each time.

Who was loyal? His wife, in her way. She at least would be one of the last to abandon him. No other civilian, but then that was expected and unchanged. As to the players...

Damian, as ever. No other. Not truly. Jeong would go to him soon because he was a man unaccustomed to losing and wouldn't take it well. Jeong would send him a woman. Maybe a few.

He hadn't failed Jeong because nothing could have defeated that boy. Not in that moment, not with the immensity of his current power. But there would be other moments.

Jeong smashed his fist into the wall, cracking the strange plastic and sending a shake through the room. He heard footsteps and nearly rushed to destroy whoever it was. His door cracked open and his wife entered with a tray.

"Husband?" she said, stopping completely still to wait. Jeong said nothing and she came closer, setting a cup of tea on the table. He threw it across the room to shatter in a spray of liquid and plastic shards. She set another on the table. Jeong sipped it.

"I should kill a powerful player," he said. "To wipe away the memory of my defeat. But I can't. I will need them all for the Nexus. I'll be leaving the tournament, I don't know how but it's decided. Let that boy slaughter his way through all my men and they might remember he's the enemy. That fucking boy." Jeong gripped the table and ripped a chunk off the edge.

Maybe the dear leaders of his homeland were right. Maybe all those stupid American bastards were the ruin of everything.

His wife lowered her tone and wisely kept from coming too close or touching him. She was his slave and under contract rules he could hurt her badly without breaking the rules. Even here.

"It was only the first round," she said. "People like you, and me, husband. We win in the last round. That is the only round that matters."

Jeong took a deep breath, knowing she was right. That she was wise. It was why the eternal god had come to him, no doubt, his ability to endure. He had come from nothing, yet learned and improved himself, rising to prominence in a gang on the streets of Shanghai.

He would never go back. And he would not allow mankind to go back, either. There was only the future.

"We still vastly outnumber them," he said.

"Yes," his wife agreed. Jeong took a deep breath and turned to her, putting on his polite mask again.

"I'm going to need your help."

"Of course, husband, I am yours to command."

Jeong put a grateful hand on her cheek, not displeased when she flinched. He still had a competent, loyal civilian. A competent, loyal player. It was more than he ever expected. More than he needed.

He had lost many times in his life, but he'd stupidly allowed himself to get used to winning. It was good to be reminded of the ever-present closeness of failure.

He had underestimated the boy. Perhaps even been tricked. That was the truth. But Jeong would put his faith in his patron, find this hidden weapon and then complete the Nexus.

He would become whatever was required to destroy his enemies and make his vision a reality. As his wife watched in silence, he put his hand to his teeth and bit so hard he drew blood, smearing it across his cheek. He swore it with his own blood.