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

If others were nearly hailed as heroes for returning alive with such rare goods, then Reeve Solin could have been granted a noble title on the spot, and no one would have objected.

His hard work, unbelievable luck, and nearly-divine patience had allowed the people of the Empire to live vicariously through him. And while they were very obviously dying of envy, they were also bursting with excitement for what this could mean going forward.

This was because a group of young minds seemed particularly willing to share knowledge and resources in such an unprecedented manner.

That alone was enough to leave people reeling.

And while Reeve likely wouldn’t get knighted for his particularly life-changing day out, he would at least be properly cemented as a key figure within Solaris Times.

And how chaotic it was when the intern finally arrived at the office.

In truth, the moment word spread that Reeve had chosen to head back to work instead of going straight home, employees and stakeholders alike flooded back into the building. Some genuinely needed to finish assignments. Others were there purely to listen. And to stare.

After all, what if luck was contagious?

What if being in proximity to someone this fortunate could improve their odds by even a fraction?

Those with expo passes were even more determined because they could actually have a solid shot at this.

And as it turned out, that theory might have had merit. Just not in a way they could have possibly expected.

Because Reeve, the incarnation of something mysterious and benevolent, had managed to bring a little something for everyone.

Of course, they weren’t big things. Nothing that could be mistaken for rare artifacts or expensive goods, especially when measured against DG’s other offerings. They were, in truth, simply small pieces of neatly wrapped candy.

Instead of spending his allocation on those items, the giveaways were actually the loot Reeve and Thea had exchanged for using their accumulated golden tickets after they managed to secure a plushie and a playset.

They had been realistic about it. Reeve would aim for the plushie while Thea would go for the playset.

Getting both for each person wouldn’t have been easy, considering their skills. Moreover, if they concentrated all their winnings on those, they might as well have asked for a beating.

It had been a wordless agreement between two people who shared the same priorities. And judging by the results, they had chosen well.

Because everyone at work suddenly became far easier to deal with after receiving a little something.

Especially once they realized just how precious each piece of candy truly was.

Such a tiny thing, and yet it got several people bawling.

But how could they not? Many of the employees were retired military personnel. Veterans who had given their bodies to the Empire and now lived with lingering damage. To receive something that could genuinely help them, even in a small way, was enough to break through professional composure.

__

By the time Reeve was ushered into the chief editor’s office, people were itching to name their children after Reeve.

The chief cleared his throat, eyes suspiciously red, and clapped Reeve on the shoulder. ”Good work,” he said, voice thick. ”Everyone really appreciates this. Truly.”

Reeve flushed and scratched the back of his head. ”Ah. I’m glad. Really.”

He hesitated. Then hesitated some more.

”And um,” he added, clearly working up courage, ”if everyone is interested, I also set aside a bit of the food I made. Just for reference. For articles and photos we might need to publish.”

The room froze.

Reeve waved his hands immediately. ”It might not look as good as what people tasted at the booth. And I definitely can’t guarantee it will be exactly the same. But I figured it would be better to take pictures today while it’s still in decent condition.”

The chief editor stared at him. Then leaned forward. ”Are you serious?”

Reeve nodded, ears burning red as he earnestly replayed the moment in his head, trying to remember if he had picked the slice where the mangoes looked the best.

”Yes,” he said, then added a little hesitantly, ”and maybe we could raffle off the dishes so more people get to try them? I think it’d be easier to write about it after actually tasting it.”

The intern, who had been lucky enough to taste a bit of what he made, was fairly confident that the flavor far outshone the presentation. Hopefully, that would make up for it. It would be mortifying if anyone decided DG’s mango float was nothing special just because of how he happened to decorate the dish.

Reeve’s suggestion was initially met with silence.

Then someone gasped.

Naturally, with a battle of wits and ancestral luck unfolding under its roof, Solaris Times did not close that night.

They stayed open well past midnight, buzzing with activity, excitement, and frantic note-taking. Morale as well as gratitude had never been higher.

__

However, it was not only Reeve and Thea’s direct co-workers who benefited from the unexpected generosity.

Not long after the candy distribution had concluded, Reeve and Thea were quietly ushered into a more private room. The moment the door opened, they were met with an unfamiliar sight.

Wide eyes.

Lab coats.

People who looked as if they had not slept properly in several days and yet were still planning on staying up for even longer.

The chief editor cleared his throat and gestured toward them. ”These are the researchers who reached out to you last night,” he explained. ”The same ones who have been begging to get their hands on any of the rare materials you might have acquired.”

Several of the individuals nodded so quickly that it bordered on aggressive. They were prepared. Contracts drafted. Budgets revised. Numbers pre-approved that would have made lesser interns faint on the spot.

They were ready to negotiate.

Then Reeve calmly set a container on the table.

Inside lay several small, dark leaves with luminescent green tendrils.

Jade Vine.

It was the version of Jade Vine they could have sworn was only described in older texts, as such an appearance was far removed from anything currently available on the market.

The room stopped breathing.

One researcher actually stumbled forward, hands shaking as he leaned in. Another dropped to a knee so abruptly that Thea nearly asked if this was part of some ritual.

”Th-this quality,” one of them whispered. ”This is impossible.”

Any lingering skepticism evaporated instantly. It was not just that the herb looked pristine. The spiritual energy radiating from it was so dense and clean that even someone blind to such things would have felt it pressing against their senses.

How.

Just how was this possible?

Questions poured out. Rapid fire. Overlapping. Some of them were already half-turned toward the door, itching to sprint back to their labs and lock themselves in for the next three days straight.

And then Reeve spoke.

”I don’t really intend to charge more than what I paid for it,” he said thoughtfully. ”But I was hoping you wouldn’t take all of it. I was planning on giving some to people who might need it too.”

The room froze again.

”!!!”

From the side, Thea turned to him in shock. ”Huh? Who?”

Reeve paused, then looked at her with a contemplative expression.

”I’m no expert,” he admitted. ”So I’m only going by what I heard others mention. But Jade Vine should be extremely useful for Sirens, right?”

”Huh?”

Even the researchers hesitated, exchanging looks before slowly nodding. In good faith. In growing disbelief.

”Yes,” one finally confirmed. ”Extremely useful.”

Reeve smiled faintly. ”Thank you for confirming. I remembered hearing that our company president’s wife and child are part Siren, so I figured it would be essential for them too.”

The chief editor’s eyes widened.

”And there might be other co-workers who need a bit as well,” Reeve continued, entirely unaware of the emotional devastation he was causing. ”So I was hoping to ask, based on your research, how much each person would actually need for it to be effective.”

Silence.

It was that night that the chief editor, along with several officers and every researcher present, came to the same realization.

Such was the type of person who would be rewarded with such luck.

And shit. No wonder their greedy asses likely wouldn’t even make it inside.