The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 1114

Chapter 1114: A Spectacle

The situation was, unfortunately, rather dire.

As someone who had practically dedicated his entire life to mechas, Master Quinn understood better than most just how important it was to protect the absurd advancements these youngsters had brought into existence.

Some people would call that selfish, but Master Quinn preferred to call it realistic.

In a perfect world, knowledge would be shared freely. Innovations would be celebrated openly. Everyone would work together toward better lives, better technology, and a brighter future.

And if the world actually worked that way?

Then they would’ve bragged about their Young Lord until their voices gave out.

Unfortunately, they weren’t living in such a world.

Groundbreaking advancements were rarely treated as gifts but rather as double-edged swords.

And considering how willing both their enemies and supposed allies were to manipulate a young aspiring mechanic for their own gain, those people were obviously asking for death.

At that thought of the foolish involvement of those gullible geezers, Master Quinn released a long sigh.

He looked genuinely exasperated.

At the same time, there was a trace of remorse as he turned toward the younger generation gathered around the table.

"I’d like to apologize for that," he said.

The old mechanic pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I genuinely didn’t think they’d be stupid enough to fall for such obvious provocation."

His expression darkened as he remembered receiving the most random call from Colton informing him that they might need to bail out several older masters after they got into a throwdown with Dwarven engineers.

At an age where even their dentures probably had personalities of their own, how did they still have the confidence to square up against other people?

And yet they did.

Over verbal arguments that could’ve ended far earlier if they’d simply thought of better comebacks, of all things.

Bah!

"And because they’re all idiots, there’s no need to consider their opinions after we’ve already shown them far too much."

The familiar bite returned to his voice, and Master Quinn scoffed.

"They’re still hung up on polishing anyway. And really, they’re already lucky they were even allowed to witness that much."

The old mechanic shook his head in irritation.

"And because I arrived late, the only thing I could do was propose moving the licensure exam ahead of their ridiculous event."

He threw both hands into the air.

Honestly.

Sometimes he wondered whether the greatest enemy of technological progress was hubris or politics. Or maybe ignorance of both.

Because had those creaking bones cared to see past the mecha manufacturing part, then they would’ve seen through this entire farce.

"The new joint committee is likely holding out on the tournament changes and new rules until they see how we’ll react..."

"But what we can be certain of is that, since he’s not yet an officially licensed mechanic, we likely won’t be able to come up with a valid excuse to keep him out of that absurd additional Astral Cup event. Unlike Young Lord Luca, who is now a recognized professional and could reasonably be argued to be an unfair opponent, Young Lord Oliver would remain fully eligible—practically obligated—to participate."

Master Quinn’s expression became increasingly sour as he raised a finger.

"And if he builds an actual mecha there?"

"He’ll likely be expected to explain every step in detail as part of some unusual rule... for approximately twelve sessions."

"..."

"..."

The room collectively grimaced.

"Not only would we be required to let an international panel scrutinize every aspect of the build, effectively opening the entire thing to everyone beyond the Empire, we’d also be giving them enough lead time to attempt replication."

The old mechanic paused.

"Not that they’d succeed without the necessary resources."

Then he immediately pointed at the table.

"But that’s not the point!"

Bang!

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