Because there were no Titans left, there was no chance for anyone to make a name for themselves.
Back in the day, there would still be three-meter and five-meter Titans wandering near the Walls. They'd have soldiers line up the cannons from above, aim down, and blast at the napes.
If you destroyed a few Titans, the government would even hand out rewards.
They used the number of Titans you killed as a way to reward you—and the number you killed was also how they judged whether you were an "elite."
But now, there were no more Titans roaming near the Walls. Or rather, there were no Titans left that still dared to loiter anywhere close to human territory.
They didn't have brains, but they'd been "strictly filtered" by the cannons inside the Walls, and "strictly filtered" by the powerful warhammer as well.
As long as they came near the Walls, they would inevitably be drawn to the human hanging from that massive hammer—then they'd charge in, get smashed to pieces on the spot, and die immediately.
And the number of Titans the warhammer counted had nothing to do with any individual.
So almost everyone in the Garrison Regiment had no real chance of earning a bigger promotion anymore.
That wasn't a good thing for them.
People say you thrive in hardship and die in comfort. Everyone wants to climb higher and run faster in peaceful times—because the higher you go, the more resources you get, and the more beautiful women and money you can reach.
Those temptations were enormous.
But once you joined the Garrison Regiment, it meant there were no better opportunities left for you.
Any "better opportunity" had already been taken by stronger people—most of them filtered through the Training Corps, the kind you could call true elites.
If you wanted to prove yourself, you went to the Survey Corps.
If you wanted high rank and fat pay, you went to the Military Police.
The Garrison Regiment was full of ordinary grunts. No power—and even if you held a position, you were still a notch below everyone else.
But for Roger Eikam, it was enough.
Roger never wanted much. All he needed was for Nelly Quick to provide a way to contact the Scorpion Corps—so he could find the Scorpion Corps. That was it.
But what he never expected was that the moment he arrived at the Garrison Regiment—before he could even disguise himself as a soldier and slip in—he was surrounded by a group of soldiers.
"Roger Eikam, put down your weapon. Our commander wants to see you."
Roger knew their commander was Nelly Quick, but he didn't expect that kid to track his whereabouts so fast.
Looks like he's even sharper than before, Roger thought.
They escorted Roger upstairs to the commander's office.
Before anyone even knocked, the person inside seemed to hear something and opened the door directly.
What greeted him was a handsome young man—someone who didn't look much older than Roger.
With just one glance, Roger recognized him. It was Nelly Quick.
Back then, he'd grown the Scorpion Trading Company to an astonishing level—so powerful it had practically monopolized half the economy inside the Walls, and served as the Scorpion Corps' lifeblood and logistical backbone.
It became a leader across multiple industries, thriving with explosive momentum, and even now it continued to funnel an endless stream of money to the Scorpion Corps.
Roger used to never look at the ledgers, but now he did. He'd learned—slowly analyzing where the funds came from.
He still couldn't understand it: why did money that looked so clean, piece by piece, end up converging into such an enormous pool?
That was what made Nelly Quick so frighteningly special.
"You're here, boss."
That was the first thing Nelly said when he saw Roger.
He'd been waiting for Roger for a long time. Ever since Roger once told him, "You have to wait until you're useful before you come see me," Nelly had sworn in his heart that he would reach Roger's standard—become the most important subordinate Roger could never discard.
He thought about it again and again.
Levi was a hitter, the kind of enforcer who could really fight, and Tours Beak was someone who stayed at Roger's side, loyal to him.
Nelly hadn't recognized Tours Beak as a long-term asset at the time, and in the end he'd lost his way—lost the chance to stay connected to Roger.
The more he thought, the more certain he became: following Roger meant a bigger future.
If he'd followed from the beginning, he wouldn't be settling for something as small as being the commander of a mere Garrison unit.
"Looks like you're doing pretty well for yourself," Roger said, looking at him.
Nelly was still the same as before—unable to meet Roger's eyes directly.
He personally brought over a chair for Roger and invited him to sit.
"If there's anything you need me to do, please—just say the word," he said, acting like a lackey…
Even though he was a commander in charge of a thousand men.
"It's nothing else. I just want you to get in touch with the unit I founded—Scorpion Corps. If it's you, you should have a way to communicate with them."
After hearing that, Nelly realized it was so simple it was almost insulting.
He felt a little disappointed. He'd thought Roger would throw him into some life-or-death, impossible task—something that would let him prove his worth. But it seemed he'd overestimated things.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"Wait until you find them," Roger replied.
As he spoke, he casually picked up a cup of tea on the table and drank.
Nelly sensed something off. If Roger wanted to contact his own troops, he could simply transform into a Titan and fly there himself.
Who inside the Walls didn't know where the Scorpion Corps was stationed now?
And Roger was their founder.
Yet Roger didn't go. Instead, he sat here leisurely drinking tea. That made the situation obvious.
Roger couldn't conveniently show himself in person—he needed someone else to do it for him.
So Nelly waved a hand, signaling his subordinates to leave the room.
They nodded, filing out one after another.
"Whatever it is, just say it. If you don't trust me, then give me every order you have—I'll carry them out one by one."
As he spoke, he immediately began writing letters.
Using carrier pigeons, he sent word to the commander of the Survey Corps, telling him to return inside the Walls together with the commander of the Scorpion Corps who was with him.
"I've already had them all come back," Nelly said. "If you need anything at all, just tell me. The Survey Corps and the Scorpion Corps are practically merging into one now—whatever you say, they won't refuse."
"Even better," Roger said, setting his tea down.
"Nelly Quick, I trust you—and I trust your ability. Now I'm going to tell you my true intention. Don't be shocked when you hear it."
"I know," Nelly nodded.
"Then I'll say it."
"Alright."
"I want every soldier in the Scorpion Corps and the Survey Corps…
…
…
…to all become Titans."
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