Infinity Begins in Attack on Titan

Just as Jean was at a loss for words, Ryan's expression suddenly changed. He grew serious.

"Jean, do you see those guys over there laughing at us? They have no idea—we're not being punished, we're getting extra training!"

"Huh?!"

"Remember this—sweat more now, bleed less later. A real man has to be hard on himself. Mocking others won't make you any stronger!

If this were a play, at least you'd be a supporting role. Those guys? They don't even have names!"

Jean: (#?Д?)… no clue what that means, but it sounds deep.

Jean was still confused. He glanced around and saw a group of people pointing and watching him and Ryan run laps. A lot of them were clearly just enjoying the show.

Young people loved drama, after all.

After finishing the last eight laps, it was already dinner time. Ryan and Jean headed toward the mess hall together.

Maybe it was because Ryan had apologized, or because they'd been punished together—but Jean didn't find him so annoying anymore. They could probably get along.

Ryan thought: Own up to your mistakes, say sorry when needed. Did Jean think the world revolved around him?

They were late arriving, and after getting their food, they couldn't find an empty seat. Luckily, there were a couple of open spots at Connie's table, so they sat there.

Connie took a bite of his bread and grinned. "Heard you two got punished by Instructor Keith for fighting. How was it?"

Jean snorted, "Lame."

It was unclear whether he meant the punishment or Connie's comment.

Ryan smacked Connie's buzzed head. "Just eat. You've got food in your mouth, and you're still talking."

Connie wasn't truly bald—his hair was just shaved so short he looked like a delinquent. He shot back in annoyance.

"Ryan, you think I'm Sasha the Potato Girl or something? Only knows how to eat!"

Meanwhile, at another table, Eren sat blankly, his head wrapped in bandages. He was clearly doubting his entire existence. Armin looked at him with worry. The day had been hard on Eren—he'd spent the whole afternoon practicing balance and hadn't passed once.

Everyone around was mocking him. After all, Eren had loudly declared his dream of wiping out all Titans. He was somewhat of a celebrity.

But most people enjoy watching others fail, even when they're peers.

It's like when a friend fails a test—we feel bad for him. But if he does too well—we don't feel so great either.

Eren's bold declarations had earned him attention, and now people were quietly laughing at his fall from grace.

Mikasa tried to convince Eren to give up on becoming a soldier, but he ignored her and left with Armin.

Mikasa: Life is too hard.

Eren: Give up? Not happening. Not in this lifetime.

Instead of going back to the dorms, Eren and Armin sought advice from those who had done well in balance testing. Their first stop was Jean and Connie, with Marco present too.

"Haha, you want my tips? Well, I'm a genius!" Connie said smugly, patting his head—but he eventually offered a few helpful pointers.

Jean's bunkmate, Marco Bodt, a true nice guy, warmly shared his own insights and tricks.

Jean, on the other hand, wore a complicated expression that no one could quite read. He had initially intended to mock Eren with a line like, "How do you stay calm with everyone laughing at you?"

But for some reason, Ryan's words during punishment flashed through his mind:

"Mocking others won't make you stronger!"

And then there was Mikasa—his dream girl—looking so meek and soft-spoken in front of Eren. That made him burn with jealousy.

In the end, Jean somehow found himself blurting out his own tips to Eren.

Eren listened intently, taking in every word. Even though what Jean said wasn't much different from what Mikasa or Ryan had already told him, Eren wanted every edge he could get. He couldn't bear to return to pulling weeds with his tail between his legs.

Marco thought he understood Jean pretty well, but now he wasn't so sure. Jean's behavior didn't make sense. For a guy who usually disliked Eren, not throwing shade was already unusual—giving helpful advice was just baffling.

Marco: What's up with Jean today?

Ryan: Nothing special. Just fed him some motivational soup. Said a few words, and he took them seriously!

After a while, Eren and Armin left to continue asking others for help.

Jean watched Eren walk away, full of stubborn resolve. He couldn't help but feel conflicted. What sheer willpower…

That was what Attack on Titan truly meant—no matter how bloodied or broken, one must march toward freedom.

Reality would smash him again and again, but freedom remained ever distant. He had no speech skills, no miracle roars to sway enemies. His tears couldn't save friends or family. He could only move forward—until he reached the Coordinate, until he saw freedom.

Back in the dormitory, only Ryan was around. Thomas was on kitchen duty today and still cleaning the mess hall. Ryan sat cross-legged, practicing the knight's breathing technique. It had become his daily habit.

He didn't know where his path would lead. How did he even transmigrate? And if he died again—would the heavens give him another chance?

Eren and Armin returned very late. They'd ended up asking Reiner and Bertholdt for help and had a good time. Ryan only knew they came back late—he had no idea how many people they'd talked to.

The next morning, the weather was beautiful—sunny with not a cloud in the sky.

Ryan got up early to survey the training corps facility layout.

The base sat on a flat area near a cliff. One side of the large training square was lined with all sorts of bizarre tools.

On the opposite side were the corps' key buildings, from left to right: the dining hall, dorms, classroom, food storage, equipment storage, and medical office.

The instructors' quarters were on another side of the square. Other minor buildings weren't worth mentioning.

It looked a bit different from the anime. After all, this was a real world. Ryan had to work hard just to recognize all the main characters. Two-dimensional characters on screen and real, fleshed-out people were very different. He admired those transmigrators who could instantly recognize every plot character.

"Sigh!" Ryan stood bored on the mess hall's porch, waiting for breakfast. He was miserable. Forget dramatic face-slapping moments—he hadn't even touched a ODM Gear yet!

A sarcastic female voice chimed in. "You're up this early, but I don't see you doing anything."

Ymir had appeared behind him on the right. Historia was with her.

Ryan glanced at them and shrugged. "What, you want me to do something to you?"

Ymir rolled her eyes, annoyed by Ryan's obnoxious tone.

She sneered. "It's a miracle no one's killed you yet!"

Ryan chuckled. "Exactly. I'm a miracle—a cloud with a different color!"

She wasn't wrong. He had died in his last world at the hands of orcs. That he was still alive was a miracle.

He mimicked Ymir's tone. "Yo, Granny. Got a problem with me?"

Ymir took a deep breath, about to explode, but before she could lash out, Historia dragged her away.

Currently, there were 309 new cadets in the training corps. 286 had passed the balance adaptation test. Including Eren, 23 still hadn't. If they failed again today, they'd be sent home to pull weeds and dig up rocks.

At exactly 9 AM, under clear skies and warm sunlight, the second round of testing began for the unqualified cadets.

Some rejoiced, some despaired. One by one, the 23 were tested again—some barely passed, others left in defeat. Finally, as if by fate, Eren was the last to be tested, drawing everyone's attention.

Everyone wanted to know—could the guy who vowed to kill all Titans pull off a miracle?

Eren stepped forward, but Ryan stopped him. He had noticed Eren's trembling hands—he was that nervous.

Eren looked at Ryan in confusion, unsure why he was being stopped.

Ryan handed him his belt, already unbuckled.

"Use mine."