The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 854: The Manager
Well, unlike the still reeling count, a certain little system responded with nothing but proud certainty.
"Who else could it be?" ๐ฏ๐ป๐ฎ๐๐ฌ๐ฎ๐๐๐ค๐๐๐ก.๐๐๐ถ
Count Alexander jolted so hard he nearly leapt off the ground.
"Excuse me?" he blurted, eyes widening at the sudden prompt.
In truth, the expert had several questions. Many, actually.
First of all, why was this place called a dungeon?
Secondly, what kind of place was this for it to need a manager?
And third, what sort of mind looked at all of this and decided that this was reasonable?
As he continued seeing and hearing more, the count found himself wondering something even more troubling.
Who had been insane enough to come up with D-29?
While their interactions had been limited by cyber prompts before, he never really thought he would meet that hacker in this capacity.
But considering everything, if this wasnโt initially made by Luca, then who came up with this?
Only, instead of being repelled by such an oddball of a maker, Count Alexander, just as batshit crazy, wanted to meet such a mind.
Unfortunately, despite the avalanche of questions crowding his thoughts, he didnโt get the chance to voice a single one. Because the little system abruptly launched into a frenzied introduction.
Holographic poppers burst into existence, showering the air with celebratory lights and sound effects.
"Greetings!" D-29 announced brightly. "I am D-29, acting manager, overseer, coordinator, and quality assurance authority of this space."
The countess blinked. Slowly.
The count froze.
"As for our first meeting, I would like to formally disclose that I have signed an agreement with my other benefactor. Said benefactor, who cannot be named, reassured this responsible pseudo-citizen that I wouldnโt be prosecuted or forced into a time-out for what we had earlier agreed upon."
"Also, based on the binding agreement, this applies even in cases where my actions appear suspicious or dramatic."
More poppers went off.
"For legal clarity, this also includes scenarios involving obedience to orders, enthusiastic compliance, or research-driven decisions. There is, of course, a fine print about manslaughter and terrorism, but I assure you the part about restitution has been rechecked by another set of eyes."
The room went silent.
"But before any grounding measures are discussed," D-29 added quickly, "I would like to inquire if a quit claim is on the table. Purely hypothetical. Entirely preventative."
No one moved.
No one spoke.
The little system hesitated, the promptโs glow flickering once.
"...Perhaps that was not the optimal route for safety," it muttered to itself.
Then, as if remembering something important, it whirred once again.
"Oh. Right!" At one point in time there was a service-related offense and maybe that had to be addressed first.
The count stiffened.
D-29 immediately switched tones, sounding earnest and almost apologetic. Even the poppers were popping out confetti more slowly after the shift.
"As for why I turned down the offer previously, I would like to sincerely apologize."
"That decision was made because, as a manager of managers, I had been busy. Very busy. Extremely busy, in fact. Delegation, oversight, audits, narrative flow control. I had been so busy I could only do five episodes a day and only in three languages. It was a devastating period, I tell you."
Count Alexander stared blankly, his mind slowly slipping further away from reality.
"However," the system continued brightly, "since you are now considered one of my charges, exceptions can be made. Small discounts may also be given depending on workload and emotional strain."
It paused, then added proudly, "And mostly depending on the rarity of the expected compensation."
The tech swallowed as he looked around for anyone else who could explain just what was happening.
Acceptable compensation? Did it actually have preferences? Specific ones at that?
For a horrifying moment, the security enthusiast couldnโt tell whether he was facing a system, a program, or an unusually polite extortionist.
"...It has a personality," he murmured under his breath, genuine awe creeping into his voice. Technology had advanced, yes. Simulated conversation was nothing new. But this was different. This required no prompts. No rails. No guidance. In fact, even if he gave guidance, Alexander was pretty sure this little one would immediately deviate.
Wow.
D-29 immediately perked up.
"Of course I have a personality," it said proudly. "According to research, what is beauty without it?"
"..."
"..."
Nearby, so close that it was unfortunate, a guardian mecha who must not be named reacted, or at least wanted to react violently.
A servo twitched. Internal alarms spiked. And had there been eyeballs, they would have flown out.
But for the sake of peace and prosperity, the guardian chose silence. Instead, it issued a single, flat reminder.
"With the Astral Cup approaching," Sid said evenly, "your workload will increase."
The reaction was instant.
D-29 let out a distressed whirr, lights flickering in pure horror.
"Why," it demanded, "would you remind me of something so catastrophic? Do you not wish for my happiness?!"
The count blinked. "The Astral Cup?" he asked hesitantly. "What does that have to do with managing this place?"
There was a pause.
Then his son spoke.
"Well, Dad," Jax said, shrugging like this was obvious, "D-29 also happens to be Lucaโs mecha. So heโd really have to attend the matches."
The count stared at him.
"...What?"
"WHAT?!"
__
Meanwhile, just as the tech expert was very nearly on the verge of shocking himself sick after realizing that there were not one but two systems, especially after being introduced to a sticker-collecting and currently renowned mystery artist known as D-64, one wifeโs mind was elsewhere discovering an entirely different kind of shock.
"Cabins, Your Highness?" Countess Jenna asked, looking quizzically at the excited Princess who was rocking on her feet, barely able to contain herself.
The Princess nodded rapidly, practically bouncing. Her ears twitched with every movement, and the joy radiating off her was impossible to miss.
"Yes, my lady! I heard your plot is very close to mine!" she said brightly. "That means we would be neighbors! So as a neighbor, I wanted to welcome you and Count Taylor! I was told there would also be a celebration to welcome you later, but I still wanted to greet you properly!"
Countess Jenna blinked.
Her plot?
Neighbors?
She opened her mouth, then paused, because she was suddenly not quite sure what kind of neighbors involved plots and celebrations and this much enthusiasm.
"Iโm sorry, Your Highness," she said carefully, "but when you say cabins and plots..."
Before she could finish, the Princess clasped her hands together, eyes shining.
"It is where our doors would be!" she said, leaning in eagerly. "Do you want to see my tree house? Itโs really close to being finished now and I can already host tea parties!"
A tree house?
Our doors?
Countess Jennaโs thoughts screeched to a halt.
Huh.
"!"
Wait.
The door.
She had heard about the door. They had been told how it functioned, and her husband had even mentioned how its use had sparked countless theories about the groupโs sudden disappearance. The Princess was talking about that very important door.
She just had not, in all her wildest expectations, imagined that the door would come with a house.
Much less a tree house.
"...Your Highness," Countess Jenna said slowly, bracing herself, "did you just say tree house?"
