A scar?
At the corner of my eye?
Could it be the spot where the Titan's nerves connect?
Roger remembered—when a Titan shifter tore apart the Titan's eye nerves, it often left clear scars.
But those scars usually healed quickly under the Titan's power, disappearing soon after.
Why hadn't his faded?
Roger was surprised.
But he quickly came up with an excuse.
"Really? But I don't feel any pain."
He touched the corner of his eye and indeed felt clear ridges, like grooves.
For a moment, confusion filled his mind.
What was going on?
Why hadn't it healed?
"No pain? Then it must be an old injury. But… it doesn't look scarred, almost like it's new." Hange leaned in close to Roger's face, examining carefully.
"What?"
Roger felt uneasy at being scrutinized like this, shifting slightly.
"Are you hungry?"
"..."
The sudden question caught Roger off guard.
But now that he thought about it, he was hungry.
And that reminded him of the exhausting fight earlier, when he had used his degenerated Jaw Titan form to battle several Titans.
His stamina had been drained nearly dry.
Now, in an unfamiliar place, he had been too tense to even notice the fatigue.
"A little," Roger admitted.
"Let's go hunting! I'll teach you how to use the omni-directional mobility gear!" Hange cheerfully pulled him toward the door.
Omni-directional mobility gear?
So that was what they wore—the devices that let them fly between trees?
"That'd be great," Roger thought. "I don't want to drag anyone down either."
Hange nodded, pleased by his answer.
Out here, anyone without the ODM gear was as good as dead.
She didn't want Roger to become a burden to her comrades.
So if he was willing to learn, that was perfect.
They took a spare set of gear and headed to an open field near the outpost.
From the watchtowers, scouts could keep watch, and if Titans came, they could retreat quickly.
Hange handed the gear to Roger and began rattling off explanations.
Roger listened earnestly, but soon she veered into stories about her research on Titans, the oddities she'd discovered, her failed attempts to capture one.
"Huh?" Roger blinked. "Captain Hange, you're off-topic."
"…Oh, sorry. Anyway, the gear's hooks fire at fifty meters per second, a speed no normal Titan can match—except for some Abnormals. You know, during the last expedition, I found a Titan without limbs. Too bad, I almost caught it…"
"..."
Roger sighed. He could only start practicing on his own.
He fired the hooks—one to the left tree, one to the right.
His body swayed, but he quickly steadied himself.
"Oh, not bad. Good, keep steady."
Hange praised him. For once, she seemed finished.
But soon she launched into another discovery.
Roger ignored her, focusing on the device.
"The hooks fire at fifty meters per second… what about length?"
He sat down, studying the gear, captivated by its ingenious design, slowly losing himself in it.
Night fell.
Titans didn't appear at night, so most expeditions were planned for then, aside from mapping.
Scouts hunted sleeping Titans near the camp. Roger took the chance to practice with the gear.
"It's not that hard."
He squeezed the triggers—hooks fired, gas hissed—and his body shot forward.
By the end of one evening, Roger had basically mastered the ODM gear.
Soaring through the forest, exhilaration filled him.
It was like being a bird in flight.
"This is humanity's wisdom!" Roger marveled.
Though Titans were mighty, humans never submitted, always pressed forward.
The ODM gear was proof of that brilliance.
"Could this be used on Titans themselves?"
The thought struck him suddenly, and he sank deep into it.
The night passed quietly.
By morning, Roger volunteered to hunt with the scouts using the gear.
Even if it was just near the outpost, Commander Keith hesitated.
"Roger, you haven't trained. ODM gear requires great skill. Why don't you help Oluo clean instead?"
"No, Commander, I just want to help the Corps. Please allow it." Roger pressed.
"…Alright." Keith sighed. "Hange, ensure his safety."
"Yes, sir!" Hange saluted.
Soon, they were out in the woods near camp.
Though Roger had once caught a rabbit in Titan form, this was his first time hunting with ODM gear.
He pulled the triggers, hooks flew, and he soared up with the others.
"If you need help, just call, Roger," the scouts told him. Hange too.
"Don't worry."
Roger smiled and yanked the triggers.
*Thwip!*
*Whoosh!!*
The gear hurled him forward, vanishing from sight in an instant.
"???"
"Hange, this is what you call 'he's learned it'?!"
"Quick, follow him before he crashes!"
"Seriously, going full throttle right away…"
The scouts scrambled after him.
But Roger, cheering in the trees, didn't slow down.
Drawing the blades from his sheath, he tore through the forest, hunting fast.
In no time, he had piled a mountain of prey.
In just half an hour, Roger had gathered enough to feed the Corps for a week. The scouts stood dumbfounded.
"?!"
"This…"
"Good lord…"
"That fast?!"
"Not bad, Roger."
"Come on, Hange, this is 'just learned' to you?"
Hange only smiled. She'd seen him last night and had been just as stunned. She hadn't expected him to learn in one evening either.
The air filled with the sound of firing hooks, echoing through the forest.
Then suddenly, from the watchtower, beacons flared and horns blew.
"Titans! Titans are attacking the outpost!"
"Retreat! Everyone retreat!"
"Where's Roger?!"
Roger heard the alarm, retracted his hooks, and perched on a branch.
In the distance, six Titans approached—one ten-meter, two eight-meter, three four-meter.
"Perfect for practice."
He pulled the triggers, flying toward the largest one—straight past the retreating scouts, leaving them stunned.
What was he doing?
Was he looking to die?
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