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

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.

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!”

The reliable boyfriend exhaled slowly. ”Do you need help?”

”Huh? Why?” Ollie blinked. Then his eyes lit up as a hand went to his chest. ”Are you willing to be my accomplice?”

The contrast between them was striking. One was glowing with delight. The other looked like he was actively negotiating with the universe.

Kyle glanced upward, then let out an exasperated chuckle. ”To think I put you down as my emergency contact when you’re going to be the death of me.”

”But you still picked me,” Ollie said proudly.

”Yeah, I’m definitely aware. I’m just glad you called me first,” Kyle replied. He flicked another projection open. ”If it’s that bald guy... then do your worst.”

Ollie beamed so brightly it was almost blinding.

Kyle sighed. ”Drink water while you’re at it.”

”Huh?”

”Dear attendant,” the receptionist said mildly, a hint of a smirk slipping through, ”your lips are drier than usual. And I’m a little too occupied to take care of that like I normally would.”

”!!!”

Ollie’s face bloomed instantly.

”Bye!” he squeaked, cutting the call without ceremony.

He grabbed a bottle of water and drank obediently, cheeks still warm.

Haaaay. Protection really is expensive these days.

But it was worth it. Especially if things escalated.

For now, though, Ollie straightened, smoothed his uniform, and turned his full attention back to the booth.

After all, there were still plenty of nice and interesting customers eagerly lining up.

And the great pizza was waiting. At least now he had permission to deal with the bad eggs!

__

Meanwhile, the current best egg in the eyes of the universe was busy driving everyone completely up the walls.

Luca moved from station to station, cheerfully presenting option after option like he was unveiling priceless treasures instead of toppings.

”This one is the simplest version,” he said brightly. ”Just cheese and sauce.”

Gasps.

”And this one has meat.”

More gasps.

”This one uses greens.”

Conflicted murmurs followed, equal parts fear and curiosity.

”And this one,” Luca continued with a completely straight face, ”has seafood.”

The kitchen nearly collapsed into chaos.

Participants stared at the display in horror and awe. Viewers watching through the livestream were no better, frantically debating in the comments as if their lives depended on the choice that they wouldn’t even be able to taste.

How were they supposed to decide?

Which one was the best?

Which one was the safest to execute?

Which one would haunt them forever if they chose wrong?

Then Luca smiled.

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.

”!!!”