Gaming God Novels & Stories

Obviously, inflicting pain is part of his game, but there must be more. ‘I think I have a god for him. Wotan. He was all powerful among the Germanic gods, but wandered through life striking deals to get the bit extra he craved. There was always an itch he had to scratch. It was power. Every deal meant he slipped deeper in the mire and lost a bit of his power. Future deals had to get ever bigger to regain his lost ground, but the risk went up, too. He lost in the end, like a bad gambler loses his shirt and ends up a nobody. That will be our Greg.

“Well, enough of an old god’s speech. I just wanted you to know that I understand you and empathize with you more than you realize, James.” He had been looking into the god’s eyes throughout the entire confession. James could see the pain and sadness that was contained within. It was as if the weight of the world was continually on the god’s shoulders. Sometimes he kind of felt as if that same thing was happening to him, at least ever since he had found out about the Prophecy. “I understand,” he said before chuckling. “You know, never in a million years did I ever think I would be actually having a conversation with Zeus, the King of the gods. What a year this has been so far.”

Xiao Dust tilted his head and laughed, his long hair fluttering behind his shoulders as he coldly said, "God? What is a god? Shouldn't a god bless all beings? But why, why is everyone dead? God can't even protect himself, what qualifications does he have to call himself a god in front of mortals!" At this moment, everyone was a bit surprised as to why Xiao Chen's emotions suddenly became a bit off. Only to see him tilting his head and laughing wildly: "God ...... God? The God that Mister Xiao believed in has long since died! Today, Mister Xiao will come to behead God! Fifth Style One Sword Heaven's Border!"

with a minimum wealth of 100 billion rupiah who can get the card, must also meet the selection requirements. Haven had long abandoned BlackCard more than three years since becoming the son-in-law of the Lee family, and left the throne of the war god of Medicine Country. "Brother Clark, I'll ask my men to take you home," Camela said as she bowed hers head after handing over the card.

“Oh My God! I’m gonna faint soon. It’s Fernando Campbell!” The manager of the hotel shouted in a direction, “Boss, come here! Quickly come here! From now on, our hotel is really going to be famous. Another God of War has come! Sh*t! I really didn’t expect that! Who the hell is Fane? Why on earth are these Gods of War here for him?”

Seven years ago, I came here, ready to get rich or die trying, and as my head game and luck would have it, I got rich and kept getting richer. Today would be the last time I would be allowed to play the game and Sasha would be here to see my farewell victory. I had won a total of two hundred and sixty-two times, with zero losses incurred and today would be my final ban from here if I had my victory number two hundred and sixty-three. My team had created an unreleased weapon gear that was meant to be released for the United States military which I used to win every game since my first ever win. “I won,” The old geezer shouted at the top of his voice, like a kid smashing a pintado.

“Then that tramp will have the pleasure of explaining herself.” Nico leaned back in his chair, watching the fire in Nero’s gaze. The demon was back and out for blood. That same old ruthless certainty burned there. It was the look of a man who’d kill anyone or anything that tried to move his pieces off his gameboard. Nero’s gameboard. “Tonight, then,” Nico said finally. Nero nodded once. “Tonight.”

He stood tall, immovable, his silhouette carved against the lantern light like a verdict the world itself had no choice but to obey. When he spoke, it was not a statement. Not even a declaration. It was the truth. “I…”His voice dropped, deep and resonant, vibrating through bone and breath. “…AM THE GOD OF WAR.” The tent felt it… the wooden beams, the ground underneath, everything seemed to tremble under the force of that certainty. Even the flames bowed, shrinking lower as if in reverence… or perhaps fear. A heartbeat later… Lucien slammed his fist against the table. Maps jumped. Ink pots rattled. It was a sound that didn’t just echo… it promised death.

Gabriel said. Whatever they were talking about it seemed to be very important to Florian. I wondered who Florian really was for Gabriel to be calling him "Sir." Gabriel was a wealthy director of one of the biggest companies in New York, while Florian was just an average guy who said he had a rich friend. Was Gabriel only calling him "Sir" because of that friend? And who, exactly, was this friend?

Not only did she forget the kindness I'd shown her, but she also gave Jude the green light to dig up my parents' graves and humiliate my only sister. That was when I received an encrypted satellite call. It was from the General, Gunthar Vale.