Maria's Wall – Shiganshina District.
[No pain, no gain. Every drop of sweat will be rewarded.]
The words dropped into his mind like a pebble into still water, ripples spreading in every direction.
Lock froze. His chest tightened as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over him.
In the distance, towering far above rooftops, loomed a wall — impossibly high, white stone gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. Even without the alien memories now buzzing in his head, that wall alone was enough to set off every alarm bell in his mind.
But the memories… oh, the memories were worse.
They painted a picture that made him want to scream.
Somehow… impossibly… he had arrived in the world of Attack on Titan.
Lock could only sum up his feelings in one eloquent statement:
Oh, for f—
This was not good. This was not very good.
It didn't matter that the manga had been banned in his past life for "overly graphic depictions and psychological impact unsuitable for minors." He'd been a die-hard fan anyway. Read every chapter. Watched every anime episode. Could recite plot twists from memory.
But being here? Living in this blood-and-tears nightmare? That was like watching your favorite horror movie and then realizing you were strapped to a chair inside it.
"...Nope," he muttered, already bargaining with the universe. "Send me back. I'll even give up Wi-Fi."
Then, a spark of hope lit up.
"Oh, wait… I have a system, right? Every transmigrator has a system!"
As if answering him, the same flat, robotic voice from before echoed again in his head.
[No pain, no gain. Every drop of sweat will be rewarded.]
Lock stared into the void of his consciousness. "…That's it? That's my cheat?"
Was this the system equivalent of those cheap motivational posters you see in gyms?
"Really? Can you not be so vague? Can you not give me the bargain-bin version?!" he groaned, half-expecting some kind of tutorial window to pop up. Nothing did. The system went silent again, as if smugly sipping coffee somewhere.
Before Lock could wallow further, a voice cut in from behind him — bright, eager, young.
"Lock! Why are you still standing there? The Survey Corps is coming back! Don't you want to go see them?"
Lock turned his head toward the voice.
A boy ran toward him, eyes lit with excitement, short brown hair bouncing with every step. His face… was painfully familiar.
"…Eren?" Lock blurted.
It was like looking at a celebrity in real life — surreal, yet undeniable. His new memories filled in the blanks. Apparently, in this world, he and Eren Jaeger had been close friends since childhood. The same went for Mikasa and Armin.
And since he was the oldest among them, they called him "big brother" — though it was more of a nickname than an actual title.
So… from the very start, he was already in the main cast. Great. No pressure at all.
"Come on!" Eren grabbed his wrist without hesitation. "Hurry, or we'll miss it!"
Lock barely had time to process before he was being half-dragged, half-run through the streets.
"Don't just stand there! Move!" Eren barked, though his grin betrayed his excitement.
As Lock stumbled along, he dug deeper into the flood of memories. His name here was Lock Bernstein, thirteen years old. His father had been a member of the Survey Corps — emphasis on had been. A Titan had killed him during an expedition beyond the walls. His mother had followed a year later, not by titan, but by grief.
By ten, Lock had been an orphan.
Fortunately, the Survey Corps didn't abandon the families of their fallen. There was a monthly stipend — enough to keep him fed and housed, though hardly luxurious. His home happened to be close to Eren's, and over the years, their friendship had become second nature.
Lock's lips twitched. "Orphan start… well, saves me the awkward 'calling strangers Mom and Dad' problem."
If he were being honest, he could live with this setup. A roof over his head, some guaranteed food — not bad for an orphan in this world.
…If only this weren't the world of Attack on Titan.
His stomach sank.
Year 844.
That meant next year, Wall Maria would fall. The titans would come. Shiganshina would burn. The nightmare would begin.
Oh, great. Twelve months to live. Fun.
Still, panic wasn't going to change reality. He was here now. Going back was impossible. That left only one option — survive.
First step: figure out the system. Second step: avoid becoming a titan food.
"Alright, System," Lock muttered in his mind. "Show me what you've got."
[No pain, no gain. Every drop of sweat will be rewarded.]
He closed his eyes. "I swear, if all you do is give me fortune-cookie wisdom, I'm going to die a very sarcastic death."
No answer. Of course.
Without a cheat worth the name, without connections, without combat skills, survival was going to be… statistically improbable. And unlike other fantasy worlds, the science and engineering knowledge from his past life was useless here. The titans weren't going to be impressed by high school physics.
Which meant — first and foremost — staying alive.
By now, the streets were giving way to the open plaza before the city gates. The towering stone wall loomed ahead, white and gold under the afternoon light.
Lock and Eren finally slowed, both panting.
"Good… we're not late," Eren gasped.
Lock leaned forward, hands on knees, sweat dripping down his temple. His legs ached like he'd just run a marathon.
"…It's so high," he muttered, tilting his head back to look at the wall's impossible height.
It wasn't just impressive. It was terrifying. This structure had stood for over a century, protecting humanity from the monsters outside… and yet, Lock knew the truth. The wall itself was made from the very creatures it was meant to keep out.
And then — a chime in his ears.
[Ding! The host has successfully run 1,132.526 meters. Endurance +1.]
Lock froze mid-breath. "…"
Oh.
Now they were talking.
Lock's pulse quickened. If that notification was what he thought it was, then his so-called fortune cookie system wasn't entirely useless after all.
"Endurance +1… so, I really can level up stats by working for them," he murmured, more to himself than to Eren.
Eren glanced over. "What was that?"
"Nothing," Lock said quickly. "Just… motivational self-talk."
Yeah. Motivational. If "motivation" meant running yourself into the ground just for one measly point.
Before he could experiment further, the sound of hooves reached them. The crowd shifted, voices rising in excitement.
"They're here!" a child squealed nearby. Adults craned their necks, whispering in awe. Even here, where the Survey Corps were often mocked as reckless dreamers, the sight of their return still drew a crowd.
Lock followed Eren to the front edge of the gathered townsfolk.
The gate opened, and the first riders came through.
Lock had seen this scene before — in manga panels, in anime frames — but reality was so much harsher. The horses clattered across the cobblestones, their riders slumped in the saddle. The armor was dented. Uniforms were torn. Dirt and blood smeared every face.
There were fewer of them than had left.
Much fewer.
Lock's throat tightened as he scanned the column. Every gap in the line was like an unspoken funeral bell.
The leading officer dismounted, jaw set, eyes shadowed. He gave the tally in a flat voice. "Out of fifty-two, only twenty-three remain."
A ripple went through the crowd. Whispers turned to accusations.
"Another failure," someone muttered bitterly.
"They throw their lives away for nothing," another scoffed.
Lock felt the words like stones. These men and women had just stared death in the face, and the first thing they met upon returning home was scorn.
Beside him, Eren clenched his fists. "They're heroes," he said, voice low but shaking. "They're the only ones fighting for humanity's freedom."
Lock glanced at him. That burning determination… yeah, this was exactly how Eren started down his fateful path.
Lock also knew where it ended.
If only I could steer him somewhere safer…
But before he could speak, a mother's wail cut through the air. She ran forward, eyes wild. "Where is he?! Where's my son?!" Her voice cracked, desperate. "Please… tell me he's here…"
The officer's eyes softened, but he shook his head.
Her scream clawed at the sky.
Lock's gut twisted. In the manga, this scene was tragic. In person, it was unbearable.
He tore his gaze away and caught something at the edge of the plaza — a few soldiers unloading supply crates from a wagon. His system's words echoed again.
No pain, no gain. Every drop of sweat will be rewarded.
An idea sparked.
If this thing worked off effort, then maybe helping here would give him more than just endurance. And unlike joining the Corps, there was no risk of being eaten — at least, not yet.
Lock stepped away from Eren. "I'll be right back."
He walked toward the soldiers. "Need a hand?"
One looked up, surprised. "You? Hah. Sure, kid — if you can lift that crate, it's yours."
Lock bent down, hooked his arms under the wooden box, and heaved. His muscles screamed in protest. He staggered, barely managing to carry it to the designated stack.
A chime rang in his ears.
[Strength +1]
Lock's lips curled upward. Oh, this could work.
He spent the next twenty minutes hauling, stacking, and rolling barrels until his arms felt like jelly. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. His shirt stuck to his skin. He was gasping for breath when the last crate was set down.
[Strength +1]
[Endurance +1]
The system's cold voice was starting to sound almost friendly.
He flexed his fingers, grinning despite the ache. In this world, every scrap of power mattered. If the system rewarded every drop of sweat, then he'd just have to sweat harder than anyone else.
A sudden weight hit his back. "Lock! What the hell are you doing?!"
Eren had found him, eyes wide. "You just disappeared!"
Lock straightened, wiping his brow. "Training."
Eren blinked. "…By carrying boxes?"
"Every bit counts," Lock said simply. "If you want to fight titans one day, you start now."
That shut Eren up for a moment. Then his eyes lit up. "You're right! We can train together! I'll—"
Lock winced. "Slow down, Jaeger. Let's survive the year first."
The sun was starting to sink, casting long shadows across the plaza. The Survey Corps had dispersed, some heading to the barracks, others disappearing into side streets. The crowd had thinned, though whispers still lingered in the air.
Lock turned toward the wall one last time. Its colossal height seemed to blot out the sky. A hundred years of safety… and in less than twelve months, it would all shatter.
But this time, he wouldn't be just another helpless face in the crowd. He had a system, however stingy. He had a plan. And most importantly, he had the will to grind for every point.
Because here, in this world, no pain, no gain wasn't just a saying.
It was survival.