The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 792

Chapter 792: They Said It Casually

It was all very shocking to the lucky few on the tour, as well as to the livestream viewers who were fortunate enough to listen in.

This was because Jax had been more than willing to explain farming to literally everyone and their ancestors.

He explained it with enthusiasm. With hand gestures. With examples. With comparisons that somehow involved cabbage, dirt, and fish poop?

And he didn’t stop.

For the kids, this was the best thing that had ever happened to them.

Excitement, after all, was contagious. With that kind of joy plastered on Jax’s face, how could they not look forward to whatever was waiting beyond the door? Every explanation sounded like a promise. Every mention of crops made it feel like treasure awaited them inside.

Some of them were already bouncing on their heels.

But for the adults, it was an entirely different situation.

Especially for specialists, researchers, or anyone who knew enough about their own planets to realize that several things Jax was casually describing simply did not sound right.

At all.

And somehow, by a cruel twist of fate, many of those people were currently tuned in to Reeve’s livestream.

They tuned in because everyone they knew was watching. But they stayed because what they were hearing made their scalps prickle.

No one had expected to hear anything about farming. Especially from a young cadet whose guild looked more like a war lord’s party.

And yet there they were, listening to a cadet talk about his passion and resurrection.

Farming. Or as Jax cheerfully described it, the practice of cultivating land, growing crops, and raising livestock.

Wow.

To Luca Kyros, this would not have been something worth blinking over. But for people who did not have the luxury of having a lot of arable land, or the option of choosing from a wide variety of endemic plants, this was the kind of information that made hearts pound.

Most modern civilizations were built on planets selected specifically because they wouldn’t attract contamination, or because they were terrible breeding grounds for it.

Which usually meant the land was, well, generally dead.

Not dead in a poetic sense, but dead in the very practical, very scientific sense that nothing particularly human would be able to grow there.

At best, the soil could be partially revived through extensive terraforming and obscene amounts of modern technology. Even then, success was never guaranteed.

And they knew that because, of course, they tried.

They had tried farming the way ancient humans once did. Entire research divisions were dedicated to it. There were studies, simulations, and even that infamous project involving cindermoss burrowers, all in the desperate hope that they could sustain crops that actually mattered.

Obviously, they didn’t really succeed.

Some would like to think they did. But many figured that with the spiritual energy as well as the taste not being close to the descriptions in the historical texts, then clearly they couldn’t really count those as successful.

And when other crises began piling up, as they always did, people were forced to shelve those projects in favor of more immediate problems.

Because survival came first.

And because they were doing well enough surviving on nutrient solutions as well as the produce they had managed to come up with throughout the years.

So they simply told themselves they should be content that they could at least manufacture and maintain greenspaces.

Even if spiritual plants and ancient human crops were beyond their reach, they could still produce oxygen and have a semblance of life on those dead planets.

And so they just did what they could do.

Synthetic greenery. Carefully regulated growth cycles. Plants that were reconstructed by science, powered by artificially triggered photosynthesis.

They were green.

They were alive.

But they tasted like disappointment.

However, to one golden-eyed cadet’s surprise, people hadn’t really been that disappointed in those products until a certain Star Mall vendor came around selling fruit that didn’t taste like styrofoam.

It was then that the illusion collapsed and more and more vendors selling so-called ancient fruits and vegetables lost credibility when their products could only look the part.

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