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

First there had been Luca Kyros and his utterly life-changing licensure examination.

Now there was Oliver Mylor with his sensational manufacturing process and mind-boggling build.

Instructor Moore was now thoroughly convinced that this remarkable year in the Stellar Engineering era would one day be remembered as the year that produced the greatest number of inexplicable events. At this rate, the current generation of aspiring mechanics seemed determined to become the most questionable generation in history, leaving behind enough bizarre headlines and unanswered questions to thoroughly torment future historians and sociologists.

They’d undoubtedly look really innovative as a generation but at the same time increasingly unhinged...

Because even after the demonstration venue had changed, the people around him were still completely fixated on one particular detail.

The paint job.

Better yet, the lack of it.

Everyone could’ve sworn they had never once seen Oliver Mylor paint anything.

”Did any of you actually see him paint any part?” someone in the audience whispered loudly while leaning toward the person beside him. ”Or... is it actually possible they switched the entire mecha while it was standing right there?”

”Don’t be ridiculous,” his companion immediately shot back. ”How exactly do you switch something that massive when it’s under military surveillance twenty-four hours a day? The entire testing grounds have been monitored since day one, and the livestream hasn’t stopped—not even overnight. If someone managed to swap a whole mecha under everyone’s noses, that wouldn’t just be cheating. That’d be one hell of a crime.”

”Bah! I know that! But I guess, since it looks this good, should we really nitpick?”

The other man immediately frowned.

”Wow. Talk about unfair treatment. So if it’d looked ugly, you’d have complained instead?”

The pair quietly laughed among themselves, completely unaware of just how many people nearby had been shamelessly eavesdropping on every single word.

At least public opinion doesn’t seem that bad.

That was the quiet conclusion reached by one particular professional who normally wouldn’t have been caught dead listening in on other people’s conversations.

Unfortunately, he was far too anxious to help himself.

To avoid accidentally getting mobbed by the other stunned instructors during the transfer between venues, the two first-year teachers quietly blended into the crowd, hoping to disappear among the countless attendees while pretending not to eavesdrop on the whispers spreading all around them.

Falco eventually leaned over and asked in the most inconspicuous voice he could manage, ”Is... something like this even normal? Would the master mechanics actually contest Cadet Mylor’s passing because of it?”

Instructor Moore wore a thoroughly perplexed expression.

”No,” he answered honestly. ”It’s not normal.”

Even mechanics who deliberately showcased the natural appearance of rare materials would still apply some form of protective coating to ensure the mecha could safely operate in outer space.

”As for the masters...”

He frowned thoughtfully.

”That depends on a few things. The kid still had plenty of time remaining. He wouldn’t have proceeded with the demonstration unless he believed he had something worth demonstrating, would he?”

Then another thought struck him.

Come to think of it...

They hadn’t actually seen several of the manufacturing steps they should have.

Perhaps nobody questioned it because everyone had been too distracted by the countless unfamiliar processes Oliver had introduced throughout the examination.

Just when Moore thought he’d finally gotten a handle on those mysterious cadets and had half expected Luca Kyros’s best friend to make use of something like the reversed energy grid—a system he undoubtedly knew how to build—Oliver had gone and installed an entirely different system altogether.

Then something suddenly occurred to him.

Wait.

Did that kid actually finish polishing every single component?

And had he somehow missed it?

The same way he’d initially overlooked several crucial steps during Luca Kyros’s own licensure examination when everything had happened far too quickly to properly follow?

Instructor Moore desperately replayed the entire process in his mind.

He mentally retraced every stage of Oliver Mylor’s build that he could remember.

Then his face abruptly lost all color.

The cadet who had been forced to take this examination because he’d scored a perfect one hundred percent in the polishing competition...

Had never polished a single component for this build.

Not once.

Moore genuinely felt faint.

His hand shot out on instinct, grabbing Falco’s arm with a death grip as he whispered with pure dread.

”W-we have a bigger problem.”

__

But how serious could their problem really be when it paled in comparison to the soldiers who had once volunteered for another cadet’s licensure demonstration and had never quite been the same afterward?

There was actually a reason the participants had been randomized this time around.

Marshal Julian had either possessed enough decency to spread the risk around...

Or perhaps he simply didn’t want the personal accountability that came with fundamentally changing the lives of the people under his command.

The soldiers who’d once piloted mechas that had been mangled beyond recognition, only to be scared half to death when another mecha somehow bypassed every detection system and casually appeared beside them to perform on-site repairs, were now sincerely wishing today’s participants the very best of luck.

Even now, merely hearing the word ”demonstration” was enough to make the hairs on the backs of their necks stand up.

Unfortunately, the poor veterans could only watch as this year’s innocent participants looked downright delighted after learning they’d been selected.

They genuinely believed they had won the lottery.

Deputy Officer Curtis had to suck in a deep breath just to stop himself from grabbing every last one of them and giving them the reality check of a lifetime.

Then again...

There was no reason to dig up that thoroughly buried trauma.

Soon enough, there would simply be more people who understood.

Some might’ve wondered why Curtis seemed so convinced something was about to happen, almost as though he were expecting another catastrophe.

The answer was surprisingly simple.

Marshal Julian was being far too calm.

That alone was enough to set off alarm bells.

Then there was another reason.

According to one extremely reliable—and admittedly terrifying—source, a certain golden-eyed mechanic had become visibly excited the instant the mecha was unveiled.

In her exact words:

”He looked like he was about to blast right out of his seat. He even waved that... um... sign around about 3.7 times faster than before. And if he’s reacting like that, then that should tell us everything we need to know, right?”