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

The exit was bittersweet.

On one hand, the attendees were finally one step closer to enjoying their spoils and reliving every second of what they had just experienced. On the other hand, leaving a place like that felt almost criminal.

Who would willingly walk away from something so beautiful?

But life was like that, for despite all their feelings, the end of the greenhouse farm tour marked the point where paths began to diverge.

Those who had been invited, as well as those fortunate enough to win greater access, were guided deeper into DG’s booth to experience the other amenities. The rest were gently ushered toward a different exit.

An unexpected one.

And it was that exit that sealed everything, further cementing the children’s views and renewing their goals and aspirations.

When the attendees emerged, they were different.

No one could quite explain it.

Maybe it was the lingering spiritual energy clinging to their clothes and hair. Maybe it was the things they had seen. Or the things they had been told they could one day do.

Whatever it was, it made them shine.

So much so that the people gathered in front of the booth had to squint or instinctively look away for a second.

Then they realized it wasn’t light.

It was presence.

The adults had that solemn grace. But the children stepped out of the tunnel like champions returning from a sacred pilgrimage.

Their faces were bright. Radiant. Smiles stretched wide and unrestrained, as if they had just won the lottery and been told they could keep winning forever. Which in a way, they kind of did.

Their shoulders were straight.

Their posture was immaculate.

Their stomachs were round and proudly emphasized, filled with fresh produce, snacks, and the satisfaction of someone who had eaten well and learned even better.

They marched with purpose.

If there had been background music, it would have sounded suspiciously like a choir descending from the heavens.

Parents followed behind them, carrying baskets and bags with expressions that hovered somewhere between dazed, grateful, and faintly unwell from the pressure of wishing they had those expensive space buttons so they could’ve stored their goods instead of walking out with them.

Meanwhile, the people waiting outside froze.

They had been prepared to rush forward. To ask questions, to beg for details, or to grab onto sleeves and demand explanations about farming and chickens. They really had so many questions about the chickens.

Instead, they hesitated.

Because the children stopped all at once.

And then, in a perfectly synchronized motion that no one had taught them, they bowed politely.

And it was as sincere as it was devastating.

”Good luck,” one of the kids said earnestly.

”We hope you get in too,” another added with a serene smile.

A third nodded solemnly. ”It’s really nice inside.”

Their expressions were rather joyous, maybe a little too joyous, so the waiting crowd short-circuited.

Some people clasped their hands to their chests, deeply moved by the children’s manners. Surely this was a blessing. Surely this meant good fortune would follow.

Others stared in disbelief, torn between admiration and a rising, irrational urge to cry.

And at the wheel station nearby, one unfortunate individual who had just landed on Try Your Luck Next Time felt his vision blur.

His chest tightened.

His blood pressure spiked.

Because as the glowing children marched past him with baskets of goodies and mysterious confidence, he realized he probably ended up cursed!

What good luck when he didn’t even get to buy from the minimart?!

And it didn’t help that he ended up facing a really sunny cadet whose vibe wasn’t matching his most recent heartbreak!

”Dear Customer? Is everything alright?” asked the blonde who was ushering him over to the side.

The poor guy wanted to unload his lamentations but didn’t even get to do that because the cadet had to excuse himself as the next customer managed to trigger a ten-item purchase allocation!

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

”!!!”

Seriously?!

Apparently. The crowd suddenly burst into a frenzy. It was a mixture of booming cheers and guttural cries that got everyone’s attention.

From the people in line all the way to the cadets manning the competing booths who were sadder than sad because they were the closest people to the most talked about place and yet they couldn’t betray themselves and their shifts just to line up like everyone else!

So close yet so far!

All of them couldn’t help but react. And it was understandable.

See, humans seemed to be blessed with adaptability. Many quickly realized that while the main goal would always be to get inside, it didn’t mean they could ignore a silent but definitely deadly prize.

The minimart purchase allocations.

Because the moment people waiting outside realized that they could actually buy the enviable goods they saw on the livestream, the atmosphere outside drastically changed.

And it was wild.

__

How was anyone supposed to remain sane after Ollie Mylor revealed the purchase list?

No one did.

The moment the holoprojection lit up, the collective reaction of the crowd could only be summarized as internal screaming made physical.

”!!!”

The list was long.

Not just long. Long enough that it had sections. Actual sections.

People stared as the categories scrolled past, each one more overwhelming than the last.

Leafy greens, root vegetables, bulb vegetables, stem vegetables, fruit vegetables, and tubers.

Someone at the back audibly whimpered as the set scrolled down.

Herbs, fruits, ready-to-eat food, drinks, and processed goods.

The projection paused politely, as if giving everyone time to process the emotional damage.

The crowd gawked hard.

A few people leaned closer. Others leaned back like the list might jump out and hit them.

Ollie, meanwhile, looked completely satisfied.

Earlier, the people who had won purchase allocations had been stuck in a miserable dilemma. They likely had more than enough money, and they had won permission to buy. But they had absolutely no idea what they were even looking at.

Most of them were unfamiliar with the items. The names sounded strange. The descriptions were confusing when half the words used didn’t even make sense to them. And Ollie couldn’t possibly explain every single product to each and every customer.

Taste testing everything was also not an option unless they wanted the booth to collapse under medical emergencies.

So many people defaulted to the safest choice.

The lemonade.

Or other drinks that sounded oddly familiar enough to be trusted.

But now?

Things were different.

The livestream, the forums, and the screeching people brought up several important things.

People recognized the items recently mentioned by Jax.

And there were many others who were silently putting things together as they realized slowly but surely why it seemed like several items were starting to be more familiar.

”Strawberries!”

The gasp came from the front.

”There’s strawberries!” someone shouted, pointing so hard they nearly dislocated a finger.

Heads snapped toward the projection.

People started tapping each other.

”Look!”

”Baby potatoes!”

”I see baby potatoes!”

Someone practically screamed, ”Eggs! Gods, I see eggs!”

The crowd surged, voices overlapping as more and more familiar words jumped out at them from the list.

And then, right on cue, Ollie reached behind the counter.

He lifted a small pack into view.

”Yes, customers,” he said brightly, holding it up. ”We sell strawberries for just ten thousand Star Coins.”

Compared to Ollie’s daily snack box, the pack was definitely smaller (much, much smaller). But it was enough to fill a decent-sized bowl.

Bright red fruit pressed gently against clear packaging.

The shock hit instantly.

The lucky children who had just finished the greenhouse suddenly clapped.

”Wow!”

”That’s what we picked earlier!”

”Waaaah! My favorite!”

The adults, however, didn’t clap. But it was mostly because they couldn’t. For in their brains were intense calculations as their ears twitched.

Breaths hitched.

Somewhere, someone sat down on the floor.

And the woman who had just won ten purchase allocations looked like her soul was trying to leave her body as her cells started to understand just what each allocation meant for her.

She pointed at the pack in Ollie’s hand with a trembling finger.

”You mean,” she stammered, ”I... I can actually buy ten of that if I wanted to?”

Her voice cracked much to her embarrassment. But with everyone staring at her with bated breath, who wouldn’t collapse under pressure?

But the cadet didn’t seem to mind. Instead, Ollie grinned and nodded.

”Why yes, customer! You can buy ten different items, or ten of the same thing.”

”!”

”!!!”

The crowd exploded.

People grabbed at their hearts, then at their terminals.

Children tugged at their parents’ sleeves just as the adults were trying to change their original itineraries.

Ten packs of strawberries.

Ten packs of baby potatoes.

Ten packs of eggs.

Up to ten chances to bring something impossible home.

The people who had the experience got one pack’s worth of goods. But the people outside could actually aim for one, three, five, or ten.

If so, could they still be called losers with that kind of luck?!