The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 821

Chapter 821: Strengths, Weaknesses, and Red Sticks

Disaster.

A complete disaster!

Leander Kyros, esteemed Duke of House Kyros and a man famous for being the war god, couldn’t believe his eyes as the final count lit up again.

Thirty tickets.

Again.

"Thirty," he muttered hoarsely.

Not the thirty he needed, but the thirty he kept getting.

And yet for the sixth time in a row, the pinball machine spat out a pitiful amount as if mocking him for his ambition.

THIRTY!

He was so flabbergasted that he nearly crumpled to the floor when Princess Nina played the same game.

She pulled the handle back with care. Not strength. Not force. Just a gentle, precise motion, as if she were coaxing the machine rather than commanding it.

The ball danced.

It bounced.

It refused to fall.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Lights exploded. Bells rang. Tickets poured out in an unending stream.

Double.

Leander’s eyes went wide.

DOUBLE!

"!!!"

How was it possible that a man like him couldn’t get that thing called a pinball machine to submit?

Was it because he was only a Duke while the Princess was of Imperial descent?

Was that why the moment she pulled that handle back before releasing it ever so gently, the ball actually kept on going instead of falling?

But he had tried the gentle approach too! And yet even then the entire machine still shook as if threatened.

Thirty.

Again.

"...Lia..."

The word escaped him like the last breath of a dying man crawling through a desert under a merciless sun.

Duchess Amelia turned immediately. "Yes?"

"My love," Leander whispered, already sinking toward the floor, "I fear this may truly be the end."

He clutched at his chest. "I have survived wars. I have faced beasts and corruption. But this machine is beyond me."

Amelia walked over, reached down, and pinched his nose shut.

Hard.

"Leander, my dear husband... Are you sure you want to die now?" she said calmly.

"You’re aware that if you die now, you’ll likely miss out on your chance to get one of those plushies, right?"

Leander froze.

She leaned closer, voice lowering. "And the longer you lie there, the closer everyone else gets to ten thousand golden tickets."

Leander jolted upright like the dead returning to life, gasping for air as realization struck.

At that exact moment, a familiar voice cut through the chaos.

"Papa?"

"And... Little Nina?"

Leander snapped his head up.

There, standing just beyond the crowd, was his son.

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