The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 987

Chapter 987: Absolutely Inconceivable

Soon, everyone caught on, and by the end of the night, it was established that any bids involving 305 were practically love confessions.

Now, that by itself was already special, and the bidders were practically tripping over each other to express their affection, while others made their intentions just as clear by very deliberately avoiding those numbers like the plague.

However, what truly made both the viewers and the guests scream were the bids that answered those confessions.

A plus-one.

Getting a plus-one to a 305 meant they could die happy.

Well, hopefully no one would, but that was exactly the kind of feeling anyone who received a plus-one would have.

Like one Oliver Mylor, for example.

Though in his case, people weren’t entirely sure how to interpret his reaction, because he wiggled left and right while rocking back and forth like he had short-circuited on the spot.

"???"

It was truly a sight to see.

And if not for how he suddenly ran straight into the arms of Kyle Nox, who, much to everyone’s surprise, actually received him with open arms, those who weren’t privy to the Academy rumors would’ve remained completely confused about the existence of one such Mylor.

__

Then again, many were only pretending to be oblivious. After all, acknowledging the situation right away would just drive home the point that, at the ripe age of aching backs and creaking joints, many unfortunate souls still hadn’t experienced that kind of love.

[If I don’t get a confession like that, then what’s even the point?!]

[+1]

[+1]

[+1]

[Me, when?]

[Probably when you’re as good as them?]

[You guys do realize not everyone can find love, right? More importantly, there are definitely those who are completely happy with just loving themselves, you know?]

[Well, sister, I think you might want to reconsider because look at that—]

[Look at what???]

__

The netizens, who had been busy discussing the qualifications needed to have their own fairytale, scrambled to figure out what they had just missed, only to be greeted by the unmistakable frame of an Orc King standing tall—

Looking very green.

And very scandalized.

[Huh?]

[What happened?]

That was a good question.

And it had everything to do with the ever-famous Princess Muscle Muscle, who had been voted in by insistent children who absolutely refused to let go of their parents until they voted on their behalf.

But more specifically, the Orc King’s reaction was due to a very particular bid.

Three hundred five million.

Made by an Elven Prince.

At first, it didn’t quite register.

People continued chatting, still caught up in discussions about how members of DG could even find love despite how busy they were, until someone paused—

Wait a minute.

An Elven Prince?

Oh yes.

Definitely an Elven Prince.

One whose aide was already silently praying that his master wouldn’t be unrecognizable by tomorrow.

If anything, Rahil just hoped there would be enough dental evidence left to identify what would remain of his master’s soon-to-be pulverized body.

__

And the Elven aide was probably right to be praying about that.

Especially when the Orc King, who couldn’t believe his ears, eyes, or even his nose, looked like he needed to skewer something—no, someone—to deal with the kind of hell that had just unfolded before him.

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