The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 904: Criteria Not Met

"...A kiss?"

That was the first thing Prince Elior heard.

Ugh...

There were blotches of white swimming in the darkness, sounds drifting in and out as if someone had turned the world’s volume knob without telling him.

Everything felt off.

For a moment, he even forgot who he was and how long it had been. Then again, those were only secondary to the question of whether he was dead, alive, or somewhere creatively in between.

An understandable concern that he couldn’t even answer.

Unfortunately for him, all he knew was that consciousness was returning in slow, sticky pieces, and the very first sound that reached him were those baffling words.

A kiss?

"Yes!"

The reply was far too enthusiastic to be reassuring.

Elior tried to open his eyes. He failed. They felt impossibly heavy, like someone had stacked entire libraries on top of his eyelids.

He wondered, briefly, which hallucination would it be this time?

__

Outside of Elior’s fading awareness, the room had taken a turn no one could have reasonably predicted.

"Yes!" D-29 repeated, projecting a bright holodisplay into the air. The image shifted through vaguely familiar scenes. A sleeping figure on a bed of flowers. The next, lying peacefully on another bed located in the highest tower of a castle.

In truth, there were also those who apparently required the same treatment for ailments like needing legs to stay on land. But the little system didn’t think it applied to their current dilemma, when such could be solved with Jade Vine.

"When nothing works despite everything being in order," the system explained cheerfully, "this appears to be another viable waking method."

Princess Kira leaned forward, hands clasped behind her back, eyes sharp with concern and sincerity. "Then should we ask Doctor Philip to attempt it?"

Said Doctor, who happened to be named Philip, stiffened.

Before he could say anything, D-29 replied immediately, "Negative, Your Highness. There are additional requirements."

The projection flickered.

"It appears the individual must not be familiar with the patient. They must be a passing stranger. Additionally, their hair must be gelled."

Silence followed.

Slowly, everyone turned their heads.

Doctor Philip lifted a hand and ran it through his very clearly un-gelled mane. "I do not use hair products," he said faintly.

"Confirmed," D-29 replied. "Unfortunately, you do not meet the criteria."

It was regrettable, but couldn’t be helped.

From the side, Luca, who had since recovered after a nap, also felt concerned because, unlike everyone else who once used the pill, Elior still hadn’t woken up even after several hours.

Scans already showed massive improvement and stable vitals, yet no sign of regaining consciousness. At this point, he was willing to try anything, afraid that he had damaged Elior’s consciousness in an irreversible manner.

"By any chance," he asked calmly, "are these individuals trained responders?"

"It doesn’t appear so, Host!" D-29 answered brightly. "They don’t seem to be following any visible or implied emergency manuals."

Princess Kira’s eyes widened in understanding.

"Then I know why it worked," she said with immense seriousness.

Everyone paused.

"If they weren’t first responders and weren’t performing life-saving procedures," she continued, nodding to herself, "then the patient must have woken up to protect themselves from harassment."

"!!!"

Ollie gasped softly. "That makes sense."

"Because if we can’t punch people in our sleep," Princess Kira added firmly, "then it’s definitely not acceptable to kiss without permission unless it is an emergency."

"Yes," the blonde agreed solemnly.

"If such a thing happened," Princess Kira concluded, "even I would wake up for revenge."

Luca nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. No wonder my husband told me that I’m his emergency contact."

It was such an honorable moment, and Luca valued how he had been trusted to do whatever he deemed appropriate with his advanced consent.

Then again, he had received permission and encouragement to kiss whenever he wanted. So even without an emergency, the little chipmunk could just come up for a little greeting.

To the side, Ollie’s hair antenna lifted and swayed sagely as he placed both hands over his chest. "Me too, brother! My Kyle designated me as his emergency contact, too. He’s admittedly worried about it, but he still said so. I believe responsible people would assign such a person, especially if they’re the type to prepare for risks."

The room fell quiet.

Slowly, deliberately, everyone turned their gaze toward the same spot.

Rahil.

The aide had been attempting to disappear into the wall ever since everyone gathered in the room.

Sadly, he hadn’t succeeded.

"..."

"..."

He had a bad feeling about this, especially because everyone seemed to be looking at him expectantly.

__

But if Rahil felt terror settling deep in his bones, it was nothing compared to what one Elven Prince experienced the moment Doctor Philip’s name was mentioned.

Prince Elior almost had a heart attack.

He still couldn’t open his eyes. They felt far too heavy, as if they were being held shut by the weight of the world itself. His body refused to cooperate, leaving him trapped in a state where he could hear but not move, think but not react.

He just didn’t know it at first. In fact, he was so confused that for one fleeting, ridiculous moment, he wondered if he had gone to heaven.

After all, the last thing he remembered was pain and the way his beloved looked at him with utter disappointment. Their last moment just so happened to be filled with heartbreak.

So hearing such a voice could only mean one of two things: hallucinations featuring his wildest dreams or heaven showing him what could have been.

And really, who wouldn’t assume the same when he could hear talks about kisses?

But then reality crashed down on him.

Hell.

This had to be hell. A gathering of all the bad karma he needed to face for all the things he shouldn’t have done in life.

Because the very next suggestion had been Doctor Philip.

Even if Elior had wanted to protest, scream, or fling himself off the bed in sheer horror, such wasn’t possible. Everything felt heavy. His limbs. His breath. Even his desperate thoughts dragged as if submerged.

He could only endure.

But then something changed.

Someone said Rahil’s name.

"..."

"!"

Oh gods.

Prince Elior nearly convulsed, his spiritual sea lurching violently as panic surged through him.

Anything.

Anything but that.