The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]
Chapter 492: Benchmarking

Chapter 492: Benchmarking

Because it really wasn’t just the cockpit.

Nor was it the new and improved look of these mechas. It was really the whole package.

His wife had not scrimped when he said he was going to upgrade the base models. So he knew that they were going to be in for a surprise during the testing.

He just didn’t expect the difference to be this much.

It was like commercializing and mass-producing custom mechas that would have bankrupted even the Imperial family.

While Xavier hadn’t had the chance to test drive the mecha, people were currently in the throes of nearly murdering each other to test it. Luca had shared the data they initially gathered with him.

And for a moment, he wished they had arrived earlier to witness everything.

When Xavier finally finished his work, he and Kyle were redirected towards the testing grounds instead. And there they found a crowd that they didn’t expect to see today, and at this place, of all places.

But upon realizing what was about to take place, the Imperial Crown Prince could now understand why it was so chaotic. Practically reminiscent of how the soldiers scrambled for the food from the hottest fruit vendor, Luca.

Except, this time around, there was also a bigger dragon, who looked ready to bite off those who wanted to test the medium mecha.

In the end, it came down to the Duchess having to drag over his husband to remind him that their son needed actual data from actual A-class pilots.

There was bound to be a protest. However, it was immediately shut down by an even more terrifying beast.

After all, who told him to be an SS-class pilot?!

Eventually, with the Duke out of the way (but definitely sulking in a corner), they were able to start testing with the help of the most experienced A-class pilots, and everyone waited with bated breath.

The benchmarking results were definitely exciting, and those pilots who were more familiar with what they implied could only wonder why the mechanics didn’t look as hyped as they should be.

Oh, but they were.

They were seriously glad. And if they could see past their eyebags and unusually shiny complexions, they would know just how excited they were.

It’s just that, after learning where each advantage came from and just how much perfection it required to get that value, a mechanic would start thinking about it in terms of their life spans.

Honestly, they don’t even need to look at the numbers to decisively point out the differences, because even a non-pilot could tell just how fluid the new mechas were compared to the standard manual and combination piloted mechas.

Then there was the matter of approximating just how much spiritual energy they needed to use to operate the new one.

Now that was like night and day. Because the moment the pilot realized the difference, they immediately received a gasping feedback, which astounded the onlookers.

"Wh-what the hell?! After all those drills, I’ve only used this much?!

That was all it took.

A rush of murmurs followed. Shocked stares. Audible envy.

Xavier didn’t say anything. But his lips curled slightly.

He, for one, already knew just how beneficial that change would be, because even calibrating it did wonders for the operation, so what more if it were made to be like this from the very beginning?

Then it’d be just like this, allowing pilots to last far longer than they normally do. And that alone would probably be enough for the federation or the pirates to start a manhunt.

Then again, each mecha should probably be equipped with better internal protection because the emergency kits alone would honestly be enough motivation.

And Luca was planning on rolling out this kind of mecha to the pilots of the House of Kyros.

Just how much sleep would every other house and his uncle lose over this?

But that was a problem for later. For right now, they were fortunate.

Absolutely fortunate. Thought the Imperial Crown Prince, who kept listening to everyone’s assessments while he looked at the person who made it all possible.

Luca.

"Luca, you’ve worked hard," Xavier said, voice low and warm. "You did very well."

The sudden praise stunned the little dragon. His head whipped around so fast it almost gave him whiplash.

"Huh? Oh! But it’s not just me!" Luca flailed a little, ears twitching. "Everyone else worked super hard too!"

"I know. Because who wouldn’t work hard after seeing how hard you push yourself?" Xavier turned to look at him with that expression he rarely used in public.

"Wah! I don’t think it’s like that—!" Luca tried to protest, his face going pink as he waved his hands in panic.

"Hmmm. Then it’s probably not." Xavier chuckled, "But even so, I’ll come by when you do start with the biomechas."

"Eh?! Why?! Don’t you have work?!" blinked the little chipmunk, who was caught between flustered and confused.

"I do. But I’d feel much better if you could discharge regularly when making them."

"?"

"!!!"

"W-wait!" Luca took a step back, shocked and embarrassed because it the last time they guided, Luca was sure he had made progress in that XXX book.

"I swear! I’d be fine! I even lengthened the allotted time per build! You don’t have to go out of your way to do that!"

"Oh, but Luca," Xavier leaned in, tone soft and sinful, "It’s me who wouldn’t be fine."

"HUH?!"

"If I don’t come, when else would I be able to see you?"

"!!!"

That was a disaster. Because now the hardworking boss had to find a way to calm himself down before he could go back to polishing more parts.

Then again, he wasn’t the only one fairing badly, for one blonde goopy mechanic had gone quiet and suspiciously missing.

And what do you know? For the very first time in his short life, Ollie Mylor was hiding behind one of the risers. Face red, crepe clutched tightly to his chest like a sacred jewel.

"I told you, you had it in you. Congratulations!" Kyle ruffled his hair, paying special attention to the blonde’s precious hair antenna, which made it wiggle like a startled worm.

"I didn’t think I was gonna make it," Ollie muttered dramatically. "I was prepared to go."

"So soon? Aren’t you too young—and too cute—to leave us all behind?" Kyle teased.

"I am!" Ollie clutched his crepe. "I realized it all too late! Maybe I can only be... moderately responsible?!"

"Hey, that’s still better than most," Kyle shrugged. "And besides, I think you’re doing just fine. Especially since there’s dessert good enough to keep you going."

Ollie glanced down at the glorious crepe he had acquired. Technically, he had earned small cuts from people’s crepes and had been able to taste all the combinations his brother had offered as a reward.

But this one...this was his personal crepe. His hard-won prize. His dainty, sweet, golden fold of achievement.

And he’d been saving it so he could eat it with Kyle. After all, wasn’t it also part of his responsibility as a person in a relationship to feed his family?

So the little mechanic unceremoniously stunned the adjutant when he offered him a bite of his hard-won crepe.

Kyle blinked. "You’re letting me have some?"

Ollie nodded with the gravity of someone agreeing to a marriage proposal. And Kyle felt like he’d somehow won against his biggest rival: food.

"Why, thank you," Kyle said, "but I’d rather you eat this one. I’ll just have whatever’s left."

"But...there won’t be any left once I start!"

"Don’t worry," Kyle grinned, leaning closer. "I’m sure I’ll still get a taste."

"..."

"Well, if you insist...’ replied the worried Ollie, who saw that Kyle was very much convinced.

But the adjutant apparently wasn’t wrong. Because those lips were good enough for a taste.

The first one was casual. As Kyle leaned in, licking a smudge of chocolate from the corner of his lips.

But how could he be done with just that? When that definitely wasn’t enough to constitute a free taste.

Thankfully, the next one was enough to allow Kyle to store the blonde’s crepe for safekeeping.

And his conclusion: It seems like he didn’t mind this version of dessert.

In fact, his only complaint would be the serving size. Even those little chicks get more than nibbles, don’t they?