The night, dark as spilled ink, draped itself over the streets of Hizuru.
Streetlights lit up one after another, stretching along the road into the distance.
Roger Eikam stood beside one of those lamps, the glow casting his face into sharp relief.
In his hand was the outside world's most popular canned coffee. He stared down at the road intently, as if he could read some kind of story from the bare asphalt.
The world beyond the Walls had developed far too quickly—Roger had to admit that.
Things that had still been just "concepts" a few years ago were now already being mass-produced. And through marketing, they'd been accepted by the public as something normal.
Sipping the coffee in his hand, Roger's thoughts drifted.
He'd only spent a few years inside the isolated Walls, yet no matter what, he hadn't expected that while he was there, the outside world would undergo earthshaking changes.
Not just in military weapons designed to deal with Titans, but in people's standards of living as well.
If he tried to chat with someone using his current understanding, he'd definitely be treated like some ignorant bumpkin.
But none of that had anything to do with him.
And he had no intention of wasting brainpower on it.
"Dior… I'm waiting for you."
Roger muttered to himself.
He had deliberately chosen a place this dim, purely to lure Dior in.
Glancing at the watch Nelly Quick had equipped him with, he clicked his tongue.
Only two hours until dawn.
By then, even if Dior tried to run immediately, it would be too late.
The only question was whether Dior would take the bait.
If he was smart, then before fighting in any place, he'd carefully investigate the terrain and the sunrise time. If he did that, then Roger would simply be unlucky—he'd gambled wrong.
But even that wouldn't be too despairing. At the very least, Roger could breathe easy.
If Dior didn't come looking for trouble, that would be the best outcome.
He could train seriously, striving to become so strong before Dior felt confident enough to kill him that Dior wouldn't be able to resist at all—wouldn't even be able to understand why his opponent was that powerful.
The coffee in his hand hit the bottom.
The air around him grew colder.
Roger tightened his coat, tucking the Incursio deeper into his chest.
At first, by the roadside, some people had found him suspicious—like a terrorist stuffing a bomb inside a coat—and rushed over, insisting on checking him.
But once they saw he was holding a sword inside… and once they recognized his face, they said nothing more. They simply pretended they hadn't seen anything and let him go.
They all knew Roger.
Everyone here was smart. They might have different jobs, but their intelligence wasn't far apart.
Many went into business, traveling to other countries to manipulate economies. Those who couldn't go abroad could only work at home, doing ordinary, unremarkable jobs.
Recently, Roger had been mentioned frequently in newspapers and on the radio, and his likeness had even been drawn in the papers.
The people of Hizuru all knew that Roger had come to Hizuru.
But seeing him in the street was still terrifying.
A man who had driven all the Titans into a mad assault on the continent—no matter how you thought about it, he wasn't someone you'd call warm and friendly.
That was why the few people on the street chose to ignore him. They didn't want him to remember their faces either—because if one day he suddenly recalled them and decided to take revenge, they'd be finished.
The night grew deeper, soon swallowing all of Hizuru.
Roger knew he had only two hours. If Dior still didn't show up after those two hours, then the next day he would return to Eldia.
Fortunately, hard work didn't betray the patient.
In the end, Roger's waiting was answered.
Dior appeared.
Right in front of Roger, the space itself seemed to twist.
A hand tore open the air, widening the tear until it became a circular passage.
Dior stepped out, still wearing that confident smile.
Unlike usual, he hadn't brought any of his lackeys. He'd come alone, and he hadn't told anyone—except his boss, Lailian.
Lailian's complete lack of interest in the World Source made Dior furious.
Dior's original plan had been to use his power to seize every world and become the true king of all realms. Obviously, that wasn't something that could be done overnight—but Dior had the patience to wait.
As a vampire, after all, he didn't age and he didn't die.
Roger finished the last of his coffee. Staring at the Dior Brando before him, he silently tossed the can into the trash, rubbed his hands together, breathed out a puff of warm air, and then looked at Dior again—serious and steady.
"I've been waiting a long time. You finally came, Dior."
Dior was as confident as ever—and this time, he felt like he'd stumbled onto an enormous bargain.
At last, Roger was alone, out here in some desolate place.
And in this street, the living people around them were negligible—there was no one who could interfere with him.
This place was so empty that only a single streetlamp kept Roger company… and a streetlamp obviously couldn't save his life.
Dior smiled at Roger. "What a shame. Your time has come."
With that, Dior didn't waste words and immediately ordered The World to attack.
Since time stop no longer had any effect on Roger, he instead commanded The World to instantly move behind Roger and bind him in place.
Without a Stand's reinforcement, Roger couldn't see Dior's actions clearly at all now.
When his limbs were completely entangled by The World, he understood very well that God's Attendant really was dead—killed by Dior's hands.
Even a Stand that strong hadn't been able to defeat Dior. Dior's strength spoke for itself.
Golden light flared in Dior's hand again as he rushed at Roger, intending to finish everything in one stroke—kill Roger, smoothly inherit the World Source, and then, with the power of two World Sources, openly challenge Lailian and force him to show some respect.
Standing beneath the streetlamp, Roger watched Dior charge toward him without dodging and without defending—calmly watching, as if he didn't care at all.
Inside him, Kaneki Ken's voice was already roaring.
[Hurry up and take a defensive stance! You can break free of The World—you forgot?!]
"Of course I didn't forget. It's just… not the time yet."
[What time?]
"The time to one-shot Dior."
Roger said it with complete confidence. A smile spread across his face, and almost in the same instant, the Incursio pressed against his chest began to tremble violently.
It sensed its master's intent, and it answered—summoning armor that wrapped itself over Roger's body.
"Incursio!"
Roger shouted. The weapon in his hand shifted as well, transforming into a long scythe.
Dior hadn't expected him to pull out something so bizarre, and for a split second, he was stunned.
But in the very next moment, Roger's scythe hooked around his neck—then yanked hard.
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