The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 797

Chapter 797: Permission Granted

It took over half an hour.

For more than thirty agonizing minutes, the netizens of the Empire suffered in real time as they were forced to watch the scene unfolding before them.

Forced.

Because no one could look away.

Just when they thought the pain could not possibly get worse, Solaris Times began a simulcast. The moment that happened, the number of viewers spiked violently, dragging in even more people who immediately realized they were too poor, too slow, or too unlucky to have secured expo passes.

And so they stayed.

Watching.

Complaining.

Screaming internally.

[Ah! Ah! I swear he’s off by five millimeters! The cadet said an inch! An inch!]

[Nooooo! If that were me, I would have done it properly! What if the plant yields less next harvest because of that error?!]

Comments like these flooded Reeve’s livestream nonstop as the feed showed attendees taking their sweet, agonizing time harvesting fruit.

Painfully slow.

Painfully careful.

Painfully real.

The children, meanwhile, had formed an impromptu council.

They crouched together, whispering furiously as they compared baskets and strategies.

Should they pick the biggest fruits to maximize value?

Or should they go for smaller ones so they could fit more into their baskets?

If they did that, wouldn’t they technically have a larger stash that would last longer?

Tiny hands gestured wildly as they debated like seasoned tacticians planning a military operation.

The Empire watched.

The Empire wept.

And slowly, painfully, the truth became clear.

The children were lucky.

Incredibly lucky.

Because those who had won at the wheel were allowed to bring parents or guardians with them, meaning entire families were harvesting together.

It was wonderful for the adults.

It was devastating for everyone watching.

And it was absolutely incredible for the kids, who now got to pick different crops as a family.

That realization alone caused several forums to temporarily shut down.

Naturally, while the children chose the hypnotizing strawberries, their parents were still there to gamble for the baby potatoes.

And once again, to the absolute despair of everyone involved, Reeve Solin proved that he was some sort of cursed existence blessed by the universe itself.

Because the flustered journalist somehow ended up pulling a plant that yielded enough baby potatoes to fill three baskets.

Three.

Thea stared at the feed in disbelief.

"Reeve," she looked at him pointedly, "what did you even do today? How did you suddenly get lucky?"

The intern was rather speechless, not that it was anything new today.

"I don’t know," he said honestly.

Thea narrowed her eyes at him

"Can I rub against you?" she demanded. "Just once. I feel like that would change my life."

Back at their office, several Solaris Times officers were harboring similar emotions.

Even the shareholders had taken time out of their allegedly busy schedules to tune in.

They watched in silence, in awe, and with a lot of simmering tension.

They watched their stocks climb.

What kind of intern was this Reeve Solin?

Apparently, a lucky one.

Because Solaris Times was now the only news organization in the Empire with exclusive coverage of what was rapidly becoming a historic booth.

But what do you know?

Just when everyone thought that the streamer was destined for greatness, one child decided to muster all his courage.

And in front of practically every socially connected netizen in the Empire, a small voice decided to go for it.

"Um, excuse me, Lord Farmer," the child asked hesitantly. "Earlier you said we could pick from all the mature offerings in the greenhouse."

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