The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 1228: A Mylor’s Humble Assessment

Well, even if he didn’t know at that moment, there was absolutely no way Owen would’ve been able to miss it with the dizzying number of headlines already cropping up about his new mecha.

Aside from the countless posts attempting to break down the race practically second by second, together with increasingly passionate analyses about just how phenomenal Oliver Mylor’s build had been, there was already a proliferation of horrendous nicknames for the mecha itself.

There was which admittedly wasn’t nearly as bad as or, even worse,

Owen didn’t even know what to say about any of those.

However, what he really hadn’t expected was the sudden shift in his own life because of what had to be one extreme case of mistaken identity.

[THE UNTOUCHABLE IDOL: Owen Mylor’s Explosive Debut Shocks the Empire!]

[HIDDEN TALENT REVEALED?! Is the Youngest Mylor the Empire’s Next Genius Pilot?]

[THE ULTIMATE PACKAGE DEAL?! Professional Teams & Military Academies Scramble to Recruit Owen Mylor—and Maybe Snatch Up Ollie Too!]

[THE AUDACITY OF YOUTH: How One Junior Cadet Single-Handedly Proved Age Really Is Just a Number!]

Yes.

It apparently didn’t matter that half of those headlines sounded downright impossible when Oliver Mylor was practically glued to Luca Kyros, the guild leader of DG.

But dreaming was free.

And apparently, so was airing out all their manifestations on Star Net for the entire universe to see.

So, powered by fired-up hearts and uncontrollable emotions, headlines like those had already begun appearing in the ridiculously short amount of time since the junior cadet had disembarked from his new mecha after returning to the pits.

Meanwhile, Owen Mylor himself could only be described as thoroughly discombobulated.

Why did all of these articles make him sound so freaking capable?!

Unfortunately, with flashing lights coming from every direction and the repeated sounds of shutters going off around him, he couldn’t even properly express his grievances to his own older brother.

How dare that guy make him look like he had an entire bright future ahead of him?!

Like, a little bit was great.

Owen wasn’t going to complain about having decent prospects.

But as someone who liked marketing and actually understood that better than most things, how could he possibly miss the problem here?

This was false advertising!

At this rate, people were going to think he was ready to be deployed when in fact, he was just a baby!

The entire walk after his feet touched the ground passed in such a blur that Owen honestly couldn’t remember most of it. He vaguely recalled people calling out to him, someone directing him somewhere, and several others attempting to ask questions that his brain had been far too scrambled to properly register.

In fact, he didn’t really come back to himself until he heard his name being called about three times.

And well, maybe it had more to do with the solid stomp that suddenly landed on his foot.

"?!"

Owen jolted upright.

Only then did he finally look around and realize that, at some point during his prolonged mental crisis, he’d apparently been seated on a stage.

Right in front of a whole bunch of people.

The young Mylor slowly looked from one side to the other, his expression becoming increasingly wary as he took in the arrangement around him.

Was this a press conference?

It certainly looked like one.

The only problem was that instead of reporters sitting before them, the ones preparing to interrogate them were a whole group of master mechanics.

Owen suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

Then one of them leaned toward the microphone.

"Junior Cadet Mylor—"

Owen suddenly flinched before blurting out, "Oh, sorry!" when he finally realized that one of the master mechanics, Master Colton, had been speaking directly to him.

The older mechanic, finally managing to catch the attention of the mecha’s pilot, cleared his throat before repeating his question about Owen’s experience.

Or at least part of it.

Because Owen, who’d apparently blinked through the most important portion of the original question, immediately assumed he knew what Master Colton was asking.

"Smooth, comfortable, and honestly, not as challenging as I expected."

"?!"

The entire room seemed to reel.

Because unfortunately for Owen, the question he’d failed to hear properly hadn’t been,

It had been:

And just like that, Owen Mylor had accidentally established dominance over twenty professional pilots without even trying.

The worst part was that no one could really accuse him of lying!

Oliver Mylor’s creation had returned from the demonstration without any notable damage, while most of the other mechas were currently awaiting extensive overhauls, emergency repairs, or, in some particularly tragic cases, an honest discussion about whether salvaging what remained was even worth the cost.

So when Owen described the experience as what exactly were they supposed to say?!

Beside him, Ollie slowly turned his head.

"What’d you think the question was?"

Owen blinked at him in confusion.

"Huh? Uh, how was my piloting experience?"

The older blonde deadpanned.

"Nah. Master Colton asked about your experience taking down twenty other pilots."

"HUH?!"

The much taller blond nearly inhaled his own soul.

His eyes widened in absolute horror as the magnitude of his mistake finally registered, and Owen immediately began waving his hands in front of himself as though he could physically snatch his previous answer out of the air.

"No! If it’s I really had a hard time! I-I had to keep jumping around everywhere!"

"!!!"

Unfortunately, that somehow sounded even worse.

Owen, in his distress, continued earnestly trying to retract his earlier statement. He repeatedly apologized for misunderstanding the question while explaining that he’d actually been extremely frazzled throughout the entire demonstration.

But to everyone listening, all they’d heard was that Owen Mylor had apparently found fighting twenty professional pilots difficult because he’d been forced to chase after everyone else instead.

Off to the side, the other members of House Mylor had already started facepalming.

Their youngest was digging himself a grave.

No.

At this rate, he was excavating an entire underground complex.

Thankfully for the increasingly panicked gentle giant, who was somehow starting to sound more and more like the Grim Reaper to viewers across the Empire, there was still one person who hadn’t abandoned him during such a trying time.

And to think it was his his in-law instead of one of his actual siblings!

Standing with the Mylors off to the side, Kyle Nox deliberately cleared his throat.

That small sound was apparently enough to remind one little star why they’d agreed to sit through this impromptu questioning in the first place.

They had an actual reason for doing this!

And the faster they got through it, the faster they could leave before Owen accidentally convinced the entire Empire that he was ready to skip a few academic years.

The actual examinee immediately straightened in his seat.

Then, without giving anyone the slightest warning that something important was about to happen, the aspiring mechanic casually pulled out a tiny object.

At first glance, it could’ve easily been mistaken for a small rock.

Had that rock not shimmered with an unmistakable golden brilliance.

Several pairs of eyes immediately locked onto it.

"So, hello, everyone," Ollie announced blithely, holding the tiny piece between his fingers. "I figured I’d mention this today so we won’t have to deal with the same questions over and over again."

That certainly got everyone’s attention.

"Obviously, I can’t hand over my entire manufacturing process, because that’s every mechanic’s competitive advantage," he continued casually. "But I can at least tell you about the thing that makes this particular mecha unique."

Ollie raised the small golden piece a little higher.

"And it’d be this."

The room went unusually quiet as countless eyes focused on the seemingly insignificant object in his hand.

Then the blonde grinned, practically sparkling.

"It’s called Zelunium."