The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 923: That Lazy Butt

House Orell had been careful about what went onto their secured systems, but apparently not nearly as careful with their mouths when speaking around mundane, low-tier maintenance technology.

"Audio fragments reconstructed from residual buffer cache," D-29 stated evenly. "Timestamp variance suggests this exchange occurred approximately twelve standard cycles ago. Speaker identification confidence: ninety-three percent."

The projection shifted, and the room filled with distorted but intelligible voices.

[Recovered Audio Log 12-A | Partial Reconstruction]

Tavian’s voice came first, tight and strained.

"Grandfather, you have to help me! Father isn’t willing to listen to what I’m saying!"

"You can’t just let him disappear like that. Father decided he wouldn’t be returning with us because he’s now an unfortunate liability. I don’t think that’s a fair assumption."

A sharp tap echoed, likely the sound of a cane striking the floor before being set aside.

"Your father did what was best for the family," the older man replied, voice measured but cold. "You’ll learn that one day."

"Best? How could that possibly be the best solution? Surely there are other ways?"

"Are you saying you’ve actually come up with something in that tiny brain of yours?"

There was an audible gasp and a bit of static.

"No, I—"

"N-not exactly... but Grandfather, what am I supposed to say now?" Tavian shot back. "That wasn’t just someone! People are going to look. He’s not some random recruit. He’s been by my side for years. He’s a trustworthy friend. He would’ve understood."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end.

"To survive," the grandfather snapped, "you should never trust anyone. Today, they may be allies. Tomorrow they’ll be your worst enemies. And you, Tavian, are proving how immature you still are."

A brief silence followed, tense and heavy.

"Do you really think someone as upright as that child would keep it a secret that we’ve long been staging fights against pirates?"

The words made Eden’s fingers curl.

"But Grandfather," Tavian protested, voice rising, "it’s not like anyone would believe that! We don’t even know when we’re going to be attacked or how. It always looks real."

"Tavian, you idiot." The old man’s voice lost all pretense of patience. "It would be your word against his. Yes, the insurance investigations always pass because everyone reacts so naturally. But that is by design."

A faint rustle, as if fabric shifted sharply.

"And I’m not about to let you ruin that because of your personal relationships."

"You don’t understand—"

"I understand perfectly," the grandfather cut in. "If you can’t handle this kind of sacrifice, then you’re not fit to be the heir. Not only do you lack the skills, but now you’re showing you lack the backbone. How could we possibly share the same blood?"

The insult hung in the air like something sharp.

"And don’t think I don’t know that he found out because you were careless," the old man continued, voice lowering into something far more dangerous. "If you hadn’t begged for your life with those goons—goons who needed to do substantial damage to you for the sake of your merit—then that child wouldn’t have learned about your connection with them."

A pause.

"This is on you. Don’t speak of this again. Prepare to follow your father’s plans."

There was a violent bang at the end—metal striking wood, or perhaps a door slamming shut.

[Audio Log Terminated | Corruption Level: 37%]

__

The loud bang felt as if it had been aimed directly at her.

Eden felt vindicated and violated at the same time.

She was so angry she felt like screaming into a void, and she probably would have if not for the hand that suddenly covered her eyes.

She didn’t know what it was exactly, but everything inside her chest seemed to explode all at once, and before she realized it, she was a sobbing mess.

It was really that fucking bastard’s fault.

Her brother had been innocent in all of this.

It was wrong. She knew it was wrong, but in that moment, she wanted to tear into Tavian for being an absolute wimp. Not only had that idiot actively participated in those atrocities, but he couldn’t even commit to executing said crime properly. He was so incompetent that her brother had ended up getting dragged into his stupidity.

Of course, she felt for the countless lives lost for that grand performance of deception, but she couldn’t help the selfish thought clawing at her mind. If Tavian had used even one fucking ball to just take a hit or five without whining about it, then maybe Enzo would’ve returned like the other survivors.

Eden didn’t even realize how her frustrations were manifesting. She didn’t notice how violently she was heaving, how her shoulders were shaking so hard that Curtis had to wrap his arms around her just to keep her from lunging forward.

Because how could she not be physically revolted when all she wanted was to run out and tear House Orell apart with her bare hands?

Her mind spiraled fast.

She would ruin them.

She would drag every skeleton into the light.

She would expose every staged battle, every falsified claim, every hidden ledger.

She would make sure Tavian never slept peacefully again.

She would—

Her face was suddenly sandwiched between two firm hands, and her mind rang for a moment.

"!"

"Ow! What’s the matter with you?!" she snapped, fury flashing. "Do you have a death wish?!"

It stung. It really did. And she was ready to bite his head off for it.

But the death-defying aggressor didn’t flinch.

"You’re welcome," he said flatly. "Now, if you’d take a moment from the crash out, it’d be nice to hear that your brother may have been able to escape the wreckage."

"!!!"

"What?" Eden froze, still facing him.

Curtis held her gaze for a second, serious in a way that cut through the haze of her rage, before he tilted his chin toward the projection.

Eden turned just as D-29 spoke.

"Lord Curtis, what can be confirmed is the number of carriers that departed the wreckage based on recovered visual footage. Identification of individual occupants remains inconclusive."

The projection shifted, showing grainy footage of exits, silhouettes of ships, and mechas already flying out from the aftermath.

Just as Eden’s expression crumpled again, as if the tiny spark of hope had been snuffed out before it could fully ignite, Curtis spoke.

"I’m aware," he said calmly. "But I can tell. I can recognize what he used to leave."

Now Luca, who had been visibly shaken by everything D-29 had revealed, blinked and asked, "You can tell?"

"Yes," Curtis replied. "Because I can recognize that lazy butt from anywhere."

"Huh?" Luca looked confused. "Lazy... butt?"

"Yeah." The partially embarrassed deputy glanced sideways at Eden when he said it. "That’s the mecha we’ve been working on for a certain lazy butt."

"...What?"

The stunned woman stared at him like her ears had just started functioning for the first time in her life.

Curtis wet his lower lip with his tongue, suddenly finding the far wall incredibly interesting.

"A few years ago, there was a time when I started restoring a mecha because a certain someone just wouldn’t shut up about it," he began.

"After what felt like forever and countless do-overs, it finally reached the point where it could be driven. But you know how it is. Mechas need proper calibration if they’re going to function the way they should."

He inhaled slowly.

"And at the time, asking a certain someone for her piloting data would’ve been akin to suicide. So the best option was to hand it over to somebody who could gather that data without any issues."

"So Enzo had it."

"He was going to hold onto the mecha until we got the right configurations."

The room had gone quiet.

Everyone was staring at Curtis when he finally lifted a hand and pointed at the projection.

"And that one over there. That’s it."

"The space button for that unit wouldn’t open for just anyone. Even the intended owner wouldn’t be able to unlock it until the proper time."

He swallowed once.

"So yeah. That mecha over there? It could only be him—"

He didn’t get to finish.

In a motion that stunned everyone, especially one Deputy Officer, his collar was grabbed, and his face was yanked down.

Distance disappeared in a single heartbeat, and lips most definitely crashed together.

"!!!"