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

Extremely unique, indeed.

So unique, in fact, that everyone hoping to get their grubby hands on the design and manufacturing process found themselves completely stumped, unsure where they were even supposed to begin.

Honestly, it would’ve been easier had Ollie mixed other materials into the build.

Then they could’ve at least made educated guesses about which compatible alloys or composites he’d used and worked backward from there. If they managed to reconstruct the logic behind his choices, they might’ve been able to follow along with the manufacturing process.

Instead, from the very beginning of the examination, the cadet had stubbornly relied on a single material that none of them could identify.

It left them curious.

It left them frustrated.

Most of all, it left them with nowhere to start.

To make matters worse, Oliver Mylor wasn’t even finishing individual components before moving on to the next.

He appeared entirely focused on producing the endoskeleton and armor plating first, seemingly unconcerned with everything else.

Was he really planning to complete the entire frame and exterior before assembling anything?

That alone was enough to give countless dupers headaches.

Then came another problem.

Just when they thought deciphering his choice of materials would be the greatest obstacle, their entire line of reasoning was bulldozed by a manufacturing method none of them had seen coming.

Oliver hadn’t even opted for the more conventional Standoff Technique, where the detonation took place within the confines of water. Instead, he’d gone straight for the Contact Technique.

Several spectators felt their eyelids twitch.

This cadet had to be completely unhinged.

Who looked through every available explosive-forming technique and willingly chose the one that made everyone else question their sanity?

Didn’t his parents stop him from doing something so reckless during an examination?

To be fair, the Mylor patriarch had nearly worried himself bald after learning that, out of every possible manufacturing method, his son had picked that one.

Then again, if Ollie hadn’t chosen it, his parents probably would’ve assumed he’d been kidnapped somewhere along the way and replaced by an alien lifeform.

”...”

”...”

That was simply the kind of person Oliver Mylor had always been.

If the rest of the universe hadn’t known that before today, then by the time the examination reached its halfway break, they certainly did.

Unfortunately for everyone trying to study the build, that wasn’t even the biggest distraction.

The moment the break was announced, the blonde happily wandered over to one side of the testing area before producing what looked like enough food to feed an entire guild.

Container after container appeared while people’s mouths kept hanging lower and lower.

”Is he doing what I think he’s doing...?”

”Wait, wasn’t that the third container?”

”Fourth.”

”Does it even look like he’s about to be done unpacking?!”

Several pairs of eyes instinctively drifted toward Ollie’s space button.

Surely...

Surely that couldn’t all be for one person.

Yet every time they thought he had finally reached the last one, another container somehow emerged from hiding.

”!!!”

What the spectators didn’t quite understand was that, questionable as his methods might have seemed, Ollie’s manufacturing process actually consumed an astonishing amount of spiritual energy. As enjoyable as blasting Zelunium into shape was, it was also the stage that left him the most drained.

So if anyone deserved to replenish his energy in the middle of the exam, it was definitely the person repeatedly detonating controlled explosions for survival!

__

While those fortunate enough to have witnessed Luca’s licensure exam had at least seen him pause to eat and take short breaks between manufacturing sessions, this was the first time anyone had watched an examinee casually sit down for a proper meal while the machines continued working tirelessly around him.

There were several reasons for the collective disbelief.

For one, most mechanics survived examinations almost entirely on nutrient solutions, chugging bottle after bottle just to keep themselves going. With time in such short supply and the pressure of watching their peers steadily pull ahead, who had the luxury of taking elaborate breaks?

Secondly, although the existence of real food had become widely known by now, especially after DG repeatedly turned everyone’s understanding of meals upside down, people still couldn’t believe Ollie had just casually taken all of that out for himself.

Had they not known from the very beginning that the examinee in question was a bona fide member of DG, one of the few, if not the primary verified source of such ingredients, they probably would’ve concluded that the Mylor family possessed enough hidden wealth to warrant a corruption investigation.

Unfortunately for everyone else...

He really was Oliver Mylor.

The only thing the audience could do was quietly swallow their saliva as the blonde happily opened the precious lunchbox before him, leaving countless spectators across the universe on the verge of tears from sheer envy.

The moment the lid lifted, a warm, mouthwatering aroma escaped into the enclosed testing area.

Yes. They couldn’t smell it from where they were, but they could already tell from the way his eyes lit up and the twitchy little hair antenna atop his head danced with excitement. Whatever it was, it had to smell so good that he looked recharged just from seeing it.

Though while they couldn’t smell anything, they could certainly see it, with all those cameras doing their absolute darndest to slowly kill everyone with jealousy. Inside had to be perfectly seasoned dishes, beautifully glazed cuts of meat many of them couldn’t even identify, vibrant vegetables, and neatly arranged side dishes packed together with almost excessive care. Then someone spotted what was unmistakably an egg and nearly burst into tears on the spot.

Ollie’s eyes immediately curved into crescents.

Not because he wanted everyone else to suffer as they watched him eat, but because he was simply too touched by everyone’s kindness.

He happily waved both hands toward the stands, offering an earnest thank you to everyone who had helped prepare such a wonderful meal for him before reaching for another lunchbox that had quite obviously been set aside for dessert.

It looked unbelievably special, and he could hardly wait to open it, even before he’d finished the main course. Sure enough, it didn’t disappoint.

The instant he recognized who it was from, his entire face lit up.

”Kyle!”

His delighted voice echoed through the microphones as he immediately began blowing flying kisses toward the stands without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

Kyle, who’d already mentally prepared himself for something like this, simply smiled and focused all his attention on his little star instead of looking at the judgmental face of a certain Imperial Crown Prince, who had absolutely no right to judge when he currently had an entire hand buried in his own wife’s hair under the flimsy excuse of giving him an underhanded massage.

The audience, however, was suffering an entirely different crisis.

After everything they’d witnessed today, they were now being forced to accept yet another unbelievable advantage.

The cadets who had spent months fielding questions about how DG members could turn out so differently despite attending the same academy, learning under the same teachers, and sitting in the same classrooms quietly closed their eyes.

This was simply too much.

Not only had Oliver Mylor taken the official licensure examination while still a freshman.

Not only was his manufacturing process completely unprecedented.

Not only had his lunch made an entire arena jealous.

He also had a flourishing relationship with someone like Kyle Nox.

Just what kind of examination was this?

Was it secretly designed to eliminate anyone unfortunate enough not to have Oliver Mylor’s life?