In the Survey Corps dormitory, Krista sat at her desk reading the newspaper by the light of an oil lamp. On the bed beside her, Ymir lay on her side, propping her head up with one hand as she watched the girl studying late into the night.
"Hey, Krista, didn't you already read that during the day?" Ymir asked. "What is this, homework? Why are you reviewing it again?"
"Mm…"
Krista gave an absent nod, clearly not listening closely. Her full attention was still on the newspaper.
The Survey Corps was not cut off from the outside world, so of course they had access to the news. When everyone saw yesterday's paper reporting that Lillian had been received by the king, they were shocked.
What shocked them even more was that he had actually participated in the battle to retake Wall Maria.
They all knew how brutal that operation had been, yet Lillian had never mentioned it at all. That in itself felt strange — most people who survived that nightmare would have bragged about it endlessly.
Still, this explained why Lillian had been admitted into the Military Police despite not ranking in the top ten. He had been specially recruited because of that achievement.
"Alright, go to sleep. Training is brutal tomorrow," Ymir said, lying flat on her back.
"Okay…" Krista folded the newspaper carefully and put it away before climbing into her own bed. As soon as her head touched the pillow, exhaustion washed over her.
The Survey Corps training was far harsher than that of the Training Corps. And since new recruits were required to join the next expedition beyond the walls in one month, their training schedule was absolutely relentless.
Physical training to the limit, then theory lessons, then combat drills once their strength recovered — day after day with almost no rest. It would continue like this for an entire month.
Krista thought bitterly: I wanted to visit Lillian on our weekly day off, but at this rate, I won't even have time.
She remembered Erwin saying that the casualty rate for new recruits was around thirty percent. That meant that in the coming expedition, she might die outside the walls and never see Lillian again.
But at least he would be safe in the Military Police… probably.
With that thought, Krista slowly fell asleep.
---
The next morning.
"Get up. Time to work."
Lillian spoke while buttoning his uniform. His roommates quickly got up and dressed as well.
When they stepped outside, several female soldiers were already waiting. They all saluted Lillian. Only Annie gave him a cold glance, as if she couldn't be bothered with him.
"Fall in line," Lillian ordered.
Even though he was only a squad leader, no recruit dared to disobey him. That was simply how the military worked inside the walls — absolute obedience to rank.
If recruits could challenge squad leaders, then squad leaders could challenge captains, captains could challenge vice commanders, and vice commanders could challenge the commander. The entire system would collapse.
So the military operated strictly on the principle that a soldier's duty is to obey orders.
"We met each other yesterday," Lillian continued. "Barring any accidents, we'll be fighting side by side in the future. So there's no need for excessive politeness or stiffness. Just do your jobs properly."
"Squad Leader Lillian, what are we supposed to do?" someone asked.
Lillian looked at the speaker and replied, "We are Military Police. Our duty is to protect the lives and property of civilians. That means thieves, bandits, and murderers are our enemies. Catching them is our job."
The recruits exchanged uneasy glances. Clearly, many of them were dissatisfied, but none dared to voice it.
"I'm going to retrieve some documents. Stay here and wait," Lillian said.
He knew they were unhappy. Most people joined the Military Police to live comfortably, do as little as possible, and collect a steady paycheck — essentially becoming parasites on the system. Lillian's work-driven attitude clearly unsettled them.
As soon as he left, they began whispering among themselves.
"Our Squad Leader really loves working, huh?" a gray-haired girl said to Marlo. "What a weirdo."
"Hey, Hitch, don't say that!" Marlo snapped immediately. After spending time with Lillian, he had come to respect him — unlike others, Lillian never mocked his ideals and even encouraged him to pursue them seriously.
"Lillian is doing this for our sake," Marlo said firmly. "If we catch more criminals, we'll earn merit and get promoted faster!"
"Huh?"
A young man beside them sighed and shook his head. "You guys are too naive. Don't think you'll get credit just for catching those cunning bastards. Even if you do, do you think the glory will be yours? Ha! The people sitting in their offices, drinking and playing cards, when they report up the chain, they won't even mention your name. The credit will go straight to them!"
"…"
Everyone nodded in agreement. They weren't children — they understood the twists and turns of the system. Among the dozen or so recruits here, not all had been top ten from the Training Corps in their districts. A few had transferred from the Garrison Regiment.
Having served years in the Garrison, they already saw through the military reward system. So they had no intention of working hard — just wanted to get by day by day. Survive the first year in the Military Police, then become veterans in the second year while the next batch of recruits arrived. Once seasoned, they could hand off work to the next group and enjoy the perks themselves.
No one said it aloud, but that was what most of them thought.
Marlo glared at those nodding in agreement. He couldn't think of a way to argue, but he certainly didn't agree with them, so he simply scowled in silence.
Hitch, watching him, couldn't help but laugh, then turned to a girl in the dorm: "Annie, I remember you and Squad Leader Lillian came from Trost District, right? Same training batch. Was he like this back then?"
Annie stayed silent.
"Hey, hey, ignoring me again!"
"Hitch, stop bothering her. She came from that district… she probably saw hell firsthand. Her mind must've been scarred," someone said.
Hitch shrugged reluctantly and fell silent.
In truth, Annie wasn't traumatized; she just didn't know how to answer. She didn't know much about Lillian either — only that he had extraordinary strength and excelled in hand-to-hand combat. Few could beat him in close quarters. She also knew that he was very close to Krista and Ymir; the three were often together.
That was it. Annie didn't need to know more — in the end, it wouldn't matter.
If I had known the ending would make us enemies, wouldn't knowing more only bring me pain? So emotional detachment was her best armor, sparing her unnecessary suffering when the day came.
Reiner, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.
He treated everyone like a "reliable brother," caring about all his comrades and getting along well with them. But the result? Mental strain. Having feelings made the act of taking lives painfully harder. Reiner could suppress it, but Annie, even with a small emotional sting, would feel the sorrow deeply. If she had bonded with everyone like Reiner did, she probably couldn't bring herself to act. Even in the original events, she had spared Armin and Jean multiple times — a kindness that ultimately became her downfall.
---
Meanwhile, Lillian had taken some incident reports from the office. They were complaints submitted by the citizens, yet had been left to gather dust, ignored by everyone.
Inside the walls, the Military Police were effectively the police. And if the police barely addressed complaints, it was easy to see why crime rates remained high.
"These are yours to handle," said the officer in charge of the files. "We have more important things to do. We're short-staffed."
More important things… like missing a fourth at mahjong? Lillian thought, speechless, as he carried the files to his small office.
As a squad leader, he was an officer of some rank and had his own office — though tiny, with only a desk, chair, and dusty bookshelf that had never been cleaned.
Laying the files out on the desk, Lillian realized there was no way he could process them all in one day. He had to pick and prioritize — focusing on the more serious cases.
As the officer had said, personnel were limited — he had only about a dozen under him. Petty thefts could be ignored; he would target robberies, murders, and other major crimes.
He quickly singled out one file, studied it carefully, and nodded. "This one's it."