The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 438

Chapter 438: Occupy

Ollie blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

His mind, normally sharp when calculating his money and physical assets, had entered an irreversible loop.

There were sparks behind his eyes. His brain tried to reboot.

Too bad his ears were still echoing "Because I am. So, please be aware of my efforts."

Huh?

Wait.

Wait.

WAIT.

That—that was a CONFESSION, wasn’t it???

A REAL ONE!

FROM A REAL PERSON!

From KYLE!!!

Nearby sensors might not have picked up the sound of his internal screaming, but it was definitely heard in the higher realms.

Ollie crashed.

A small, pitiful system reboot screen flashed in his soul.

He swayed. Eyes glassy.

Then—

SPLURT.

A tiny nosebleed escaped.

Kyle caught it in real time, moving with the speed of a trained adjutant whose prospective wife had just combusted from romantic input.

Coolly, he reached into his pocket. A tissue appeared like he’d always been prepared for such things.

Without a word, he dabbed under Ollie’s nose.

Ollie, now in full breakdown mode, flailed back in alarm.

"I-I—YOU—WHAT—WHY—THAT—WAS—"

Words failed him.

Arms flapped like panicked fins.

He nearly knocked over the mysterious box he’d just been gifted as Kyle held his wrist to stabilize him, his voice calm as ever.

"You’re bleeding. So, let’s try to get that under control first."

Ollie was gently guided to lean forward, his face now alarmingly close to the adjutant, who, for some reason, was suddenly taking up his entire field of vision.

"I need you to pinch your nose for a moment—"

"I KNOW I’M BLEEDING, KYLE!!" Ollie shrieked, his voice comically nasal and high-pitched from the blockage. "YOU—YOU CAN’T JUST SAY STUFF LIKE THAT!"

"I didn’t say it to demand an answer."

Ollie squeaked.

Literally squeaked.

"I didn’t—I mean—I NEVER THOUGHT—YOU—ME?!?"

"Yes," Kyle said evenly, not missing a beat. "You."

"Me"

"And everything in between."

Ollie, the small and overwhelmed program, encountered another error.

Another stream of blood tried to escape, only for Kyle to calmly press a fresh tissue against it.

Meanwhile, the blonde could only whimper under the giant’s care.

And that was when Ollie slumped back, red as a boiled lobster, hand clutched to his chest like some melodramatic novel heroine struck by a curse or a heart attack.

"Mother once warned me of this," he whispered hoarsely. "One day, someone will look at me and I will perish."

Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"I’m not trying to kill you, Ollie."

"Too late," Ollie whispered faintly.

Kyle chuckled—low, amused, and completely unfazed.

He just leaned back against the bedpost and said, "You’ve got time. I don’t expect an answer right away."

To which Ollie whimpered, because right now he couldn’t even breathe properly.

And Kyle, with all the patience in the world, just passed him a water bottle, a small cooling pad, and waited for his mechanic to finish combusting.

Because really, at this point?

It was a full-blown meltdown, and Kyle found every second of it utterly worth it.

He wasn’t asking for his feelings and sentiments to be returned. And while he wished for that, his actual goal was awareness.

All he wanted was to enter this guy’s malfunctioning radar. Because if he could get his foot in the door, then only then would he have a shot at this.

But Ollie wasn’t as lucid; his mind, heart, and soul were trying to operate separately as they all struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

More accurately, he hovered in a state of spiritual confusion. His fingers twitched. His legs itched to pace. His brain pinged system errors every few seconds.

He didn’t know what to do next. He’d called Kyle to ask for his help, but didn’t expect to hear those words.

Was he just kidding?

Was this a prank?

But to his shock, just as the bleeding stopped and he was peeling away the now thoroughly used tissue, a strong arm looped around his waist, pulling him flush against that hard chest he’s been so familiar with.

"Wha—?!"

Ollie froze.

He might’ve gasped, but all that came out was air.

And then—

Thump.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump-thump-thump.