"Where are you taking me?!"
"Where are you dragging me?!"
"Spare me, please! I really am a good person!"
The Marleyan officer Roger was dragging wailed as his body scraped along the ground, leaving a long trail of blood behind.
He couldn't keep up with Roger's pace, so he could only be hauled along like dead weight.
Inside the Walls, the ground—especially the streets—was mostly paved with blue-grey bricks, but there were still plenty of annoying sharp lumps sticking out.
Those came from stones that hadn't been properly fired or laid.
In the past, people often got cut by those jagged stones, long bloody scratches left across their skin.
For some strange, hard-to-put-into-words reason, there just weren't many people inside the Walls who worked as "doctors."
If you got injured, the only one you could really go to was Jaeger, the doctor—
Eren's father, Grisha Jaeger.
A long time ago, he'd noticed the unclean habits of the people inside the Walls and realized there was a real risk of them getting infected by various viruses. So he'd gone to the officers in the Military Police and the Garrison Regiment—the ones in charge of keeping order among the people—to warn them of this hidden danger, hoping they would take it seriously.
Instead, not only did they ignore him, they decided Dr. Jaeger was just a paranoid fool with too much time on his hands.
The Military Police were at least "decent" enough to shout at him properly and then tell him to get lost.
The Garrison Regiment wasn't even that.
They'd always been lazy and undisciplined. When faced with Jaeger's plea, they just laughed it off and tried to drag him away to drink with them.
Dr. Jaeger had felt very disappointed.
What happened afterward was even more heartbreaking.
Countless people who shouldn't have died lost their lives in that war against the virus. Only Dr. Jaeger, having prepared early, had the ability to stand up and fight back against the disease.
Thankfully, he succeeded.
Because he succeeded, he earned great prestige along the whole street.
It was only then that people were finally willing to call him "Doctor" instead of a filthy beggar.
After that, whenever families had leftover food they couldn't finish, or some rare odds and ends, they would think of taking them to Dr. Jaeger.
Most of the time he wouldn't accept them, but they had already shown their hearts.
Only… there was no Dr. Jaeger now.
Every street, including here in the Shiganshina District, was filled with the dead—their bodies devoured by Titans, torn apart, thrown onto the ground and left there. No one tended to them, and there was no one left who could.
Those who could have lived were already dead.
And the dead had no way to say even a single word more.
"Please! I really am repentant! Stop torturing me!"
The Marleyan officer screamed, his body covered in wounds from head to toe.
Roger had dragged him a long way. His face, his body, were a patchwork of serious abrasions.
Scrapes.
Very serious ones.
But of all the people who could still see this scene, not a single one felt that what was happening was cruel.
They watched this outsider with cold eyes.
They didn't even really know who he was.
Out of nowhere, for reasons they didn't understand, this outsider had suddenly shown up in their homes, smashed through their walls, and then carried out a brutal massacre.
Who knew how many people had died because of him.
"That piece of scum!"
All the onlookers, no matter who they were, reached the same conclusion.
It wasn't out of prejudice—but from the simplest, most fundamental thing: hatred.
They might not know this officer personally, but the innocent people who'd died because of him—who would speak for them?!
"Stone him!!"
No one knew who shouted it first, but all at once, someone hurled a rock at the man.
With a sharp whistle through the air, the stone smashed open his scalp.
He cried out in pain and instantly glared back, viciously.
Like a stray mutt who'd had its tail stepped on.
A rope was looped around his neck, and Roger pulled on it, leading him toward somewhere he didn't recognize at all.
Where?
No one knew.
But Roger showed no intention of slowing down.
He kept a tight grip on him, even though the man was on the verge of collapsing, even though his body was already almost reduced to a mangled hunk of meat.
Roger still didn't stop.
Not only did he not stop, he even became more ruthless about it.
Dragging him forward while at the same time picking up his pace.
It was obvious he meant to torture him to death.
This Marleyan officer knew perfectly well that this wasn't going to end well for him.
Not only was there no benefit in it, he might very well lose his life because of everything he'd done.
He didn't want to die, so he struggled as hard as he could to survive.
How do you survive?
He thought he might be able to make up for his crimes by rendering some kind of service.
So he started spilling everything. He exposed everyone who had once taken part with him in those unspeakable acts—those things so vile they could only be called crimes against both gods and men.
He thought that if he did this, Roger might lessen his punishment. Maybe even let him go.
He was deluding himself.
Roger heard every word of his confession, listened to every accusation.
But it didn't help at all.
If anything, it only made Roger even angrier.
The dragging pace sped up another notch.
The Marleyan officer couldn't take it anymore.
If he had to die, then at least give him a quick death!
With that thought in mind, he stopped begging.
Not only that, he actually started cursing Roger even more viciously, calling him a deceitful little bastard, even going so far as to insult his dead loved ones.
He figured Roger would snap sooner or later, lose his patience completely, and finally kill him.
But in reality, Roger didn't.
Back when the man was begging for mercy, Roger had fully intended to kill him.
But now, he actually held himself back.
Not only did he restrain his killing intent, he even slowed his steps.
What was going on?
The officer was confused.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all.
What had changed?!
Had Roger suddenly had a change of heart?!
Or maybe that one time he'd been so "kind" to those Eldians was having some miraculous effect now?
Of course!
He knew it!
He was a good person!
He had always been a good person!
"Mom, I did it," he said proudly to the sky.
No one was even looking at him anymore.
And no one would be coming to look at him again.
He was like an animal being escorted back into its cage. For the moment, people still wanted to throw in one or two parting comments.
But when it came down to it—
He was still under escort.
Even if the king of heaven himself descended, even if it was this terrifying guy Roger in front of him—he didn't care.
Far from caring, he even started getting cocky with Roger, putting on an attitude.
Roger didn't care in the slightest.
He had no intention of responding.
"The only thing you're responsible for next," Roger said, "is figuring out how you're going to experience the most twisted punishment possible. I hope you enjoy your life here."
With that, he pointed at the place ahead of them.
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