The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 286

Chapter 286: Lockdown
Killian hadn’t expected this.

Sure, he’d deduced that Kyle might have some involvement with the disappearing cadet, but to suddenly show up in here with all these people?!

Either he’s been hallucinating real bad or this rebellious asshole really had a lot of explaining to do.

The brothers stared at each other—well, more like Killian glared.

Kyle blinked. That distortion disguise was way too familiar for comfort.

And the older brother looked like he was trying to decide between homicide or torture.

“You,” Killian said lowly, pointing a finger like it might fire lasers.

The poor adjutant flinched. Technically, he knew that this day would come; he just didn’t expect it to be today!

But just as the normally calm chief of staff rolled up his sleeves—possibly (hopefully) for spiritual purposes—the entire corridor suddenly locked down with a hiss and a dull red glow.

[Emergency Protocols: Sector E-4 Lockdown Engaged.]

“What the—” Jax hissed, catching himself on the nearest wall as the ground suddenly shook.

Alarms chimed again, lights flickered, and the entire floor seemed to hum with tension.

However, before they could question things, holographic prompts started appearing in front of them.

“Host!” D-29 enthusiastically prompted.

“Initial override initiated!”

“Huh???”

“???”

Yes. While an awkward meeting between blood brothers was taking place, a guardian mecha and one little system were busy making initial preparations of their own.

D-29 was not created for combat and had to listen to the advice of Sid, which came after the guardian mecha couldn’t take the systems non-stop errors.

All because Luca and Ollie weren’t the only ones hit hard by this hostage situation.

The threat hadn’t just endangered a brother or even the passengers—it endangered the Dungeon.

It’s very existence.

And D-29 did not play when it came to its survival.

So when the threats spilled beyond emotional trauma and into existential peril, the warning surged straight into its core.

It was just that D-29 had no response programs for such a thing, and Sid had to provide him with instructions.

“This ship’s modular. Cut them off.” Sid sighed upon realizing what needed to be done.

“Huh?” D-29 loaded.

The guardian mecha was practically ancient—the good kind, provided he doesn’t hear of this claim—one that has experienced these situations more than he’d like.

“These commuter crafts can be locked by sector. They’re designed to break off into emergency escape modules. Hijack the nav system. Start closing doors.”

“Hijack?” D-29 asked, intrigued.

“Isn’t that something you are good at doing? Go.”

D-29 chirped with little poppers, immediately latching onto the ship’s system.

It wasn’t difficult, technology like this had been easier and easier to crack for the little system who had upgraded several times now.

“Well?” Sid prompted.

The little system started with a scan after taking control., “There are 42 active pirate signatures onboard!” it relayed in a tone that sounded almost gleeful.

“Locking doors!” D-29 cheered.

Steel shutters slammed down across two-thirds of the hallway junctions, cutting power access between sectors. The clanks echoed like divine punctuation marks as confused pirates found themselves sealed in individual compartments.

One-third of the Ravagers were effectively isolated and unable to signal for backup.

“Now, scan for weapons,” Sid said, not even blinking.

“!!!”

“Scan materials, too,” the mecha added. “Pirates love makeshift bombs. Unregistered weapons. It’ll show up in anomalous densities.”

D-29 paused.

“Sid…” the little system whispered reverently. Almost decided here and there to maybe check out more of Sid’s BIOS to see if he had missed something before.

“Don’t even think about it. Or I won’t teach you how to use your weapons, and you can just burn your plates.”

It was a failed attempt, but D-29 considered that there were many more days to try again.

After all, the dramas always say to try and try until you succeed.

But right now, the focus is on eliminating the threats before the next awaited program schedules arrive. It would be impossible for the little system to do “research” when the threat levels were high.

Meanwhile, those that were only hearing the sounds of heavy mechanical doors closing down could only look around while a confrontation that almost went down had to be put on hold.

“I don’t know which ancestor you prayed to, but you might want to start praying again before I catch you.”

Ollie, meanwhile, was watching the scene with growing confusion. “Why is the expensive mister angry at you, Kyle?”

“That’s my brother,” Kyle grunted.

“Oh,” Ollie blinked. “Wait—how?!”

Kyle gave him a deadpan stare.

Killian scoffed. “Now he remembers I’m his brother.”

“But who knows,” Killian added under his breath, glaring, “I might be an only child soon, depending on today’s outcome.”

Fortunately—or unfortunately—D-29’s scan results saved Kyle from further fratricide.

“HIGH-PRIORITY UPDATE!” the system chimed.

Everyone’s prompts flickered to life, save for Killian, who stood there wondering what had gotten everyone suddenly staring.

Kyle decided to take the lead, glancing through the scan results. “About one-third were detained in isolated compartments. Twenty-two more are still roaming, but they’ve lost command coordination.”

Maybe this way his brother would momentarily forget about the incoming ass whopping.

That was when Duke Leander stepped forward, his cape still damp from their earlier river jump. He looked around at the tense group, then toward the red lights overhead.

“Then we split the work,” he said.

Everyone turned to him.

“First, we’ll deal with the passenger lobby. We must secure the hostages first. Then we can split up by sector to deal with the remaining pirates.”

“The five of you stay together for now. It is good that we can detect their arsenal and numbers, so this should be easier.”

Ollie nodded earnestly, liking the sound of staying together with everyone.

Kyle noticed Ollie’s grip on his sleeves tightening and figured it was because of this.

“Understood,” Kyle muttered, resigned to his fate as Ollie’s designated emotional support anchor.

Leander’s eyes flicked briefly to where Luca was standing, golden eyes burning like stars. He clenched a fist.

He hated this. Hated the idea that his precious son had to come to such a dangerous place.

But more than he hated that, he felt strangled at the thought of coddling him. Denying him the right to grow strong, to protect what mattered to him.

Because what if there came a time he wasn’t there?

If anything, this was how a Kyros was raised—with teeth bared and head held high.

Still, the torn father swore right there and then to secure more revive pills—find more humans to purify if he had to—so that he could always guarantee a damn stash for his sanity.

At least that way, he could pretend his son was invincible.

Killian, meanwhile, was finally taking stock of the new arrivals, especially after someone spoke up with orders. His gaze swept across the group—and then stopped.

Duke Leander Kyros.

Another hallucination? But that couldn’t be when standing behind him, stoic as ever, was Butler Gary.

Killian’s eye twitched.

Then, slowly, he turned toward Kyle, who had decided that the floor, the ceiling, and even the dark ventilation shaft were more interesting than making eye contact.

Kyle coughed.

Killian’s expression promised divine punishment.

But this wasn’t the time. The corridor lights flickered.

And then they heard it again.

A child’s cry.

Far. Faint. But real.

It echoed through the steel walls like a chime of urgency.

And just like that, the mission resumed.

The path was clear. Mostly. Or after they get rid of a few rats.