"Wow, finally time to rest."
"That ride was so bumpy I almost threw up."
"Almost? You did throw up."
"Ugh… gross~"
Ronan narrowed his eyes, watching the group disembarking from the carriage. After giving them a quick once-over, he quickly lost interest. Ellis and the others probably wouldn't be back for a while. He glanced over at the small training field near the rest area, a flicker of interest lighting up in his eyes.
"I've been stuck in that carriage all day. My body's starting to rust~"
With a soft sigh, Ronan walked into the playground. After stretching out his joints, he began to jog.
As a rest area for the Garrison Regiment, the training field was well-constructed. A single lap was about 400 meters. Ronan ran two full laps before finally feeling a slight burn in his muscles.
He was satisfied with his physical state.
Still, he kept running. Only in constant movement—through focused, disciplined training—could he silence the unease buried deep in his chest.
845.
The number echoed in Ronan's mind like a warning bell. A year marked by disaster. It reminded him every moment that hardship was coming. The urgency pushed him to improve himself relentlessly.
Though he had the support of a mysterious system, Ronan didn't rely on it entirely. He was still young and growing, so consistent physical training would naturally strengthen him—albeit more slowly than the system could. But effort was never wasted.
In time, quantity became quality—as long as there was potential to be tapped.
But that night, reality didn't allow Ronan to run for long. Ellis and Levington returned, and the three of them made their way to the lounge to rest before continuing their journey.
They once again passed by the group that had arrived earlier from another carriage.
That group noticed them as well. Their eyes met briefly. Ronan, not recognizing any familiar faces from the Attack on Titan storyline, quickly abandoned the idea of approaching them. Instead, Ellis, ever the social one, went over to chat.
After a short exchange, he came back.
"They're new recruits too," Ellis explained. "From a city east of Wall Maria. Just like us, they're heading to the training base."
He looked around, ensuring the others weren't paying attention, then leaned in and added, "We're all from Wall Maria, so I figured it might help to team up—watch each other's backs once we're in training."
"I've got no objections~" said Ronan with a nod.
Humans are social creatures. Ronan wasn't against making connections.
Levington, standing to the side, hesitated before muttering, "No objection here either…"
Seeing the expression on his childhood friend's face, Ellis could tell the shy gene had kicked in again. He simply gave him a discreet elbow nudge and said nothing.
Ronan, observing all of this, remained indifferent. What truly interested him now was discovering how many new recruits were planning to join the Survey Corps. Those would be his future comrades.
The rest—well, they were just potential acquaintances.
Thanks to Ellis's initiative and lighthearted chatter, the group soon became more familiar. They were all young, after all, and youth bridged gaps quickly.
Ellis, at 20, was the oldest. The other three new recruits were 18. Naturally, Ronan, at just 14, was the youngest—but he often held the upper hand in interactions, even over Levington. This left the others slightly puzzled.
Still, they didn't ask—an indication that they possessed some level of emotional intelligence.
With the new trio added to the mix, the room quickly grew livelier.
Their presence gave Ronan insight into the living conditions in other areas of Wall Maria. It broadened his worldview… for a while. Soon, he lost interest. Local customs and traditions weren't something he needed to worry about—at least not yet.
---
Morning came quickly.
Now traveling as a larger group, the journey became far more cheerful and filled with laughter.
When the others learned that Ronan had placed first in the Shiganshina District, winning the honor with little competition, they were stunned. Some of them even approached him during breaks for advice.
"You want to fight me? A one-on-one duel?" Ronan asked, raising an eyebrow at the tall, muscular young man standing in front of him.
The boy scratched his head, a bit embarrassed. "I heard from Ellis and the others that you're really strong. I just… wanted to see it for myself."
"All right~" Ronan agreed.
He could tell the guy wasn't being hostile—just carrying the spirited competitiveness of youth. Besides, this was the top recruit from his own district. It wasn't a surprise he'd want to test himself.
Seeing that Ronan accepted, the big guy grinned. "Then let's get started!"
"Okay~" Ronan said with a relaxed tone.
As he looked around, he noticed both the recruits and the Garrison soldiers responsible for escorting them had gathered to watch. He could tell what they were thinking—they wanted to use this match as a way to measure strength.
Endurance and coordination didn't always translate into actual combat ability.
Understanding that, Ronan faced his opponent calmly.
The tall young man charged forward, arms wide in what looked more like an attempt at a tackle than a punch.
Ronan sidestepped easily to avoid the "hug" attack, then clenched his right fist. With a quick motion and a slight whistle through the air, he landed a clean punch straight into the opponent's abdomen.
Thud!
"Ughhh~~!"
The tall recruit let out a pitiful groan and crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach. His face contorted with pain, his body trembling from the impact.
Ronan… wins.
Everyone watching:
"…That's it?!"