Login via

The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 841

Chapter 841: A Glimmer of Trouble

The beauty of seeing it through a livestream was that people could deceive themselves.

Drones.

Magnetic devices.

Other perfectly reasonable explanations.

Without being able to see the actual cause behind the floating cans, people very conveniently chose to focus on something else entirely.

Marinara sauce.

Once Luca mentioned that there were many different ways to use it, the deal was sealed. At this point, one particular minimart attendant was convinced that if his good brother ever decided to sell air in neatly labeled containers, it would still sell out within minutes.

What a good day for business.

A truly excellent one.

Because it was also the day people were finally being introduced to the goodness known as pizza.

Sure, it was pizza toast rather than the traditional crust. But really, who in their right mind would discriminate against something so heavenly? Especially when the goal was to get it into as many hands and mouths as possible.

Bread.

Sauce.

Cheese.

Perfection did not need to be complicated.

The pleased mop nodded to himself, his hair antenna bouncing in enthusiastic agreement as he mentally prepared to recommend even more products to the eager masses gathering around.

Everything was going beautifully.

Right up until the blonde happened to glance outward.

He paused.

Hmm.

It should not have caught his attention. Truly, it should not have. But as a hoarder with an almost supernatural sensitivity to anything shiny, reflective, or suspiciously eye-catching, he noticed it anyway.

Even from afar.

An uncanny glimmer.

The mop squinted.

Then narrowed his eyes.

Then discreetly enhanced his vision.

Ah.

That explained it.

A bald head.

And not just any bald head.

A very familiar bald head.

One that gleamed with hostility, poor judgment, and a long history of terrible ideas.

The mop’s lips slowly curled.

Very interesting.

For someone who had weathered what could have been the worst of things, he felt a different kind of emotion instead of his usual terror.

The blonde finished assisting his current customer with a professional smile, handed over the purchased goods, and then casually turned away.

The moment he was free, he reached for his terminal.

It was time to call his de facto pseudo-attorney.

After all, if he was about to do something mischievous, it would be best to plead his case in advance. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

The call went through almost instantly.

"Kyle~"

Ollie leaned closer to his terminal, honeyed voice deliberately sweet as a faint spiritual barrier shimmered around him for privacy.

On the other end, an earnest adjutant shivered.

Not because it was cold.

Because that tone was ominous.

So ominous, in fact, that the blue-haired receptionist—originally standing impeccably—nearly slipped in place.

Yep, that bad.

Kyle cleared his throat. Carefully.

"...Yes?"

"See..."

"Wait," Kyle cut in at once. "Before you say anything. On a scale of stealing a candy bar to treason, how much trouble are you in?"

"Hey!" the twinkling star protested, deeply scandalized by the clearly baseless (not) accusation. "How could you say that when I haven’t even said anything! I’m innocent here!"

Kyle rubbed a hand over his face like he already regretted existing as he looked at that aghast face.

"I see. My apologies," he said in surrender. "Then let me rephrase. On a scale of stealing a candy bar to treason, how much trouble do you think you’d be in?"

Ollie puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms while glaring at the projection.

"..."

"..."

Then after a beat, the little mop rocked side to side.

Kyle raised a knowing brow before words finally came out of that sinful mouth.

"...What about character assassination?" Ollie offered sweetly.

"..."

"..."

"Oh?"

"Yes! I promise you won’t have to clean up a body!" Ollie said earnestly, his face filling the holoprojection.

Kyle stared at him.

"...Who is it?"

"A certain bad uncle!"

"A bad uncle?"

"Yep!"

Haaaay. Protection really is expensive these days.

The kind of smile that made people nervous.

"The good thing about pizza toast," he said gently, as if soothing a room full of panicking souls, "is that you don’t actually have to choose just one."

Silence fell.

"You can mix and match," he continued happily. "The base ingredients are very simple. The rest can be added depending on your preference."

The realization hit like a wave.

Wait.

What?

Before anyone could fully recover, the golden-eyed demonstrator reached under the counter and lifted something up.

A lump?

Was that a suspicious-looking rock?

"This," he announced proudly, "is bread."

The room froze.

Bread?

That is bread?!

People, particularly those not in the know, leaned forward because they had questions.

Luca placed it on the board and picked up a knife.

"Oh," he added casually, "and this is why pizza toast is very friendly."

He began slicing.

One slice.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

The loaf seemed endless.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as people realized what they were seeing.

This was not just bread.

This was a lot of bread.

Oh so much bread!

As the slices stacked neatly, something clicked in the minds of those watching closely.

While they hadn’t seen the suspicious rock, the moment it was cut into pieces they couldn’t help but think of it as familiar. Like they’d seen it before.

The shape. The thickness.

Someone whispered it out loud.

"The grilled tomato sandwich."

Luca looked up, eyes lighting up instantly as if in agreement.

"!!!"

Reading History

No history.

Comments

The readers' comments on the novel: The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]