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

Most definitely not.

Especially after Ollie casually mentioned that their winnings were attached to their holotags and terminal IDs.

Just like that, the sunny blonde explained cheerfully, ”So for those who are still unsure about what they want to buy, you can take your time to think it over and come back a little later.”

The woman standing in front of him visibly shook where she stood as Ollie patiently guided her through the steps, showing her and everyone else how to check their winnings properly.

And sure enough, it was there.

Her purchase allocation!

Bright and undeniable.

However, the joy was short-lived, because with it came the warning that was mentioned with the same pleasant tone:

”Please note that all goods are subject to availability and can only be purchased as long as stocks last.”

”!”

The implications hit immediately.

As first day enjoyers they were extremely fortunate to have access to all the goods. But everyone, including those unfortunate souls on Star Net were certain that it would be a blood bath once specific goods started going out of stock.

And yet, they couldn’t simply rush to their deaths by using up their life-changing chance haphazardly!

But why the sudden panic?

Well, because all over Star Net, more and more people were coming to the same conclusion.

The Empire’s most beloved Fruit Vendor had something to do with the Dungeon Guardians Guild.

Yes. There just had to be a correlation between the two entities.

What had earlier been whispered speculation had now crossed into near certainty the moment people compared the exhaustive minimart list with archived listings from the online shop.

”!!!”

Sure enough, everyone had to brace themselves.

In different corners of the universe, people were all talking about the same things.

DG, Vendor 11820251002, the expo, eggs, strawberries, and even fish.

It sounded absurd.

And yet it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

According to D-29, who had been tasked with monitoring Star Net alongside Duchess Amelia and Marquise Julienne, activity levels were spiking everywhere. Forums. Private channels. Trade boards.

There were even people openly bidding to buy allocations from winners by promising exorbitant prices.

Just as expected, people were getting desperate and increasingly interested.

Then again, wasn’t that expected when all of a sudden, spiritual life-saving goods were appearing on such a large and public scale?

Heck, even the other guilds were talking about the tragedy that was looming all over them.

And members of one particular guild were gnashing their teeth so hard that it was a miracle none of them cracked a molar.

They were dangerously close to becoming public enemy number one.

And the Expo had only just begun.

__

At the rest area of the Iron Panthers Guild, one senior felt like crushing a few skulls.

Doyle Rook had not slept well in months.

Ever since that fateful day, his days had been filled with rage and bitterness. He would snap without warning. He would grind his teeth in his sleep. And worst of all, he could not even log into Star Net anymore unless he wanted to personally escort himself to the medical bay.

Everywhere he looked, it was them.

Those children.

Those idiots playing house and pretending to run a guild.

He had been mocked. Criticized. Dismissed. Reduced to a joke.

And not a single hair had returned to his head.

Not one.

Doyle was convinced it was a curse. There was no other explanation. Something like this simply did not happen to someone like him.

He was Doyle Rook.

A senior.

A powerhouse member of the Iron Panthers.

Someone meant for greatness.

So of course he dreamed of revenge.

Unfortunately, being a busy senior who barely returned to the Academy made it difficult to act on those dreams. Every time he did come back to school to wait for them, he would encounter air and all those increasingly absurd rumors about their likely falsified achievements.

Sure, sure, there were alleged proofs here and there, but how many people had he seen fabricate achievements?

If Doyle believed even half of what people were saying, he would have to accept something as crazy as the Imperial Crown Prince being a student at their school.

Ridiculous.

Thankfully, at least one person still had sense.

Their guild leader had agreed with him. Magnus Rowe himself had acknowledged that something had to be done. And better yet, he had suggested doing it at the Annual Expo or the Astral Cup where it could be disguised as friendly competition.

Doyle had clung to that promise.

He had looked forward to it.

He had fantasized about standing in front of their childish booth and crushing their spirits in front of everyone.

What would kids who ran a spa know about advancing the Empire anyway?

Nothing.

Or so he thought.

Because now this was happening.

Doyle stormed into the private rest area and slammed his hand against the table.

”Lord Magnus!” he barked. ”You said we would go over there! You said it yourself. But now you’re telling me not to go?!”

Magnus Rowe did not even look up at first.

He sighed instead.

A long, tired sigh.

”Have you been living under a rock?” Magnus finally asked.

Doyle blinked. ”What?”

Magnus looked up slowly, his gaze flat. ”Do you not know what’s happening across the Empire right now?”

”Huh?”

The guild leader pinched the bridge of his nose.

”Idiot,” Magnus said calmly. ”Use your eyes to read sometimes. Maybe then you would not be acting like this.”

Doyle bristled. ”What does that even mean?!”

Magnus straightened in his seat.

”It is one thing to confront them privately,” he said coldly. ”It is another thing entirely to do it in front of every available eye in the Empire.”

He flicked his wrist.

A holographic tablet sailed through the air.

Doyle caught it on instinct.

”Do you want to be disowned by your family?” Magnus continued. ”Better yet, do you want to be exiled from the Empire of Solaris?”

The words hit hard.

Doyle’s eyes dropped to the tablet.

He read.

His posture stiffened as his mouth opened slightly.

”That... that can’t be real,” he stammered.

Magnus snorted.

”Whether it can or can’t be real is no longer something we get to decide,” he said. ”What matters is what we do next.”

Doyle looked up, still reeling. ”Then what do we do?”

Magnus leaned back, unimpressed.

”We leverage what we have,” he said. ”Information that only students would know.”

”Huh?”

Magnus rolled his eyes and stood.

”For gods’ sake,” he muttered. ”Just shut up and wait for my signal.”

”???”