The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 283

Chapter 283: His Battle Plan

Ollie Mylor was thinking, which was dangerous.

He wasn’t particularly known for strategic brilliance under pressure, but right now, Ollie was desperate.

Because he had a plan.

A crazy yet currently inexplicable plan.

He wasn’t planning to abandon the man next to him—far from it. But he did need to leave, just for a little while. He just couldn’t explain how or why. Not without sounding completely insane.

Or blowing the lid off a very, very big secret.

And the guy already looked like he had enough problems.

Ollie glanced up at him—the tall, ridiculously well-dressed man whose features were now obscured by a flickering distortion field, the kind used by people who definitely weren’t average citizens. Before the tech kicked in, Ollie had caught a brief glimpse of his face.

Not everything, with his limited point of view. But that alone was enough to tell.

The man was chiseled. Expensive.

This was the kind of man who probably had a full wardrobe sorted by color and day of the week. Someone who looked like people could pay taxes on his facial symmetry.

Definitely out of Ollie’s league for compensation—especially after promising his father all his future allowance in exchange for just one favor. Therefore, he couldn’t afford third-party liability payments on top of that.

This meant no accidents, no unexpected risks, and absolutely no heroic strangers ruining the plan with their quiet brooding and mysterious tech.

And while the guy didn’t seem like the type to charge headfirst into danger—more like the type to coldly assess a situation, come up with five contingency plans, and then charge in—Ollie still didn’t want to take chances.

So summoning every ounce of chaotic sincerity he had, Ollie looked the man in the eyes and said—

"I’m going to leave now."

Killian didn’t move. "Oh?"

"But you have to stay here. You have to promise. Please. Don’t get caught. Whatever happens after I leave—don’t interfere."

"And whatever you see when I do get back, you can’t tell anyone. Just...wait here. I’ll be back. I’m going to try not to take too long."

Killian stared at him with flat disbelief. "You’re the one running away."

So, why was he the one being given such instructions?

"Yes," Ollie nodded solemnly, "but with purpose."

The expensive mister raised a brow.

Ollie inhaled deeply and then played his final card—the most sacred of all solemn vows.

"The Pinky Promise," he whispered.

Killian blinked. "The what?"

Ollie held out his hand, pinky finger extended solemnly. "It’s sacred. Binding. I learned it from my good brother Luca. You hook pinkies, and that means you’ll keep the secret and stay safe."

The chief of staff’s eyes narrowed at all this. "...Is this real?"

"Very real. Something really bad would happen if you break it," warned the cadet.

Killian opened his mouth to object, then closed it. Then opened it again.

Somewhere in his soul, the overworked official was screaming. But against his better judgment, he slowly extended his pinky and curled it around Ollie’s.

The cadet beamed.

And vanished.

Killian was left standing by the ventilation shaft, looking down at his still-raised pinky.

"...Did I just get strong-armed into a pinky promise by a student?" he muttered. Then sighed. "I must be tired."

__

Landing back in the Dungeon space, Ollie had only one thing on his mind.

Well, two things.

One: he wanted to cry.

Two: he needed to tell someone.

"Emergency! Hijacking! Pirates on the commuter craft I was on!" Ollie said in one breath, practically skipping past the explanation. "They’re using a kid as hostage to smoke me out—they think I’m still onboard!"

BAM!