Chapter 10

Sunlight streamed into the cabin where a girl sat at a desk, looking at documents filled with black writing.

With the faint sounds of people talking outside as background music, the girl leisurely working on the paperwork was Nike Zackly.

She was both the supply officer and the hand-to-hand combat instructor within the 104th Cadet Corps.

"Phew... Is it time to go on a business trip?"

Over the past few weeks, Nike had grown accustomed to her duties as a supply officer.

However, there was still one task she wasn't used to. Being new, she found it awkward.

As a supply officer, there was the burden of procuring necessary items, even if it meant going to nearby units.

Currently, the cadet corps hadn't received the tactical manuals they needed. According to the news that reached Nike's ears, the cart's wheel broke on the way, and the books were all covered in mud.

'Fortunately, we received compensation for the damage, but it will take at least a month for the next supply to arrive.'

This news was the worst for Nike.

It meant she had to go on a business trip as a supply officer. Originally, she had planned to make Eren and the other cadets do some menial tasks by now, but this misfortune made her sigh as she stood up from her chair.

'I've finished today's work, and it's the weekend, so maybe I should take some of the kids along?'

The closest units around here were the Garrison and the Survey Corps.

Nike decided to head to the Survey Corps. The reason was simple.

The Garrison's tactical manuals mostly focused on defensive tactics using cannons and Molotov cocktails, which were unsuitable for training cadets focused on 3D maneuver gear.

In contrast, the Survey Corps were masters of 3D maneuvering, making them a better choice.

'Even if we get just one book, the instructors can conduct lessons. We'll have to make do with that for this month.'

However, deciding which kids to take with her was the problem... Fortunately, it was lunchtime now.

By now, everyone would be at the dining hall. Thinking she could find some recruits without much trouble, Nike headed to the dining hall.

On her way to the dining hall, it was noisy with the voices of various cadets.

Despite their strict discipline, they acted like children during mealtime, grabbing each other's collars and arguing.

"You bastard!"

"Shut up! Who wants to die like you?!"

It was Eren and Jean.

As always, their presence alone caused fights, making the dining hall perpetually noisy.

And as always, Mikasa would intervene, or the fight would end in a scuffle between Eren and Jean.

Sometimes, there were exceptions.

Either Division Commander Shadis would come, or other instructors would intervene.

This time, it was Nike.

"Attention everyone~ Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I'm looking for some soldiers to work with me for the day. Who wants to volunteer?"

As soon as Nike entered and spoke, Eren and Jean, who were about to throw punches, froze.

Being marked by such a witch! Annie and Bertholdt genuinely felt sorry for Eren and Jean's future.

Everyone instinctively understood what it meant to volunteer for a day of work. It meant becoming a slave for the day.

Therefore, no one raised their hand. They all resolved never to raise their hands in the future either.

Well, except for one person.

"Cadet Reiner Braun. I'll go."

Recently, Reiner had been debating between Nike and Christa in his mind.

The most surprised by Reiner raising his hand was Bertholdt.

What's so great about that witch?! She's pretty, but remembering the torment they went through in Shiganshina, Bertholdt clenched his fists on his knees.

"Alright. Then we just need eleven more. Since no one else seems willing... those two over there. Eren and the horse-faced one, you're coming too."

With Eren and Jean being taken, Mikasa, Armin, and Marco volunteered to go along.

A few minutes later, Nike's group of slaves was complete.

Mikasa, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Eren, Jean, Marco, Connie, Sasha, Christa. And Ymir and Armin too.

With these prominent characters from the original story as her slaves, Nike set off with her group in the carriage as soon as lunch was over.

...

Three carriages raced through the forest.

One carriage was filled with various supplies, while the other two carried people.

In the front carriage, Nike, dressed differently from the soldiers, was leisurely chatting.

"Let's just speak informally. I'm young anyway."

However, no one dared to actually speak informally to their superior. The atmosphere remained awkwardly silent.

Nike felt a bit hurt by their apparent distance. Did anyone come here because they wanted to? Realistically, the best way to interfere with the original story was to join the cadet corps. Who knew she'd score zero on the 3D maneuver gear aptitude?

At this rate, it would be awkward until they arrived. Nike decided to resort to threats.

"If you don't talk, I'll call you again next week. Maybe for some weeding."

Christa tensed up at the idea of Nike abusing her authority as a supply officer. She looked slightly wronged, worried they might all end up as permanent slaves. Seeing Christa's face, Ymir was about to speak up.

"Were you the one who called the Military Police back then?"

It was Eren. He recalled the event from two years ago.

The time when the Military Police saved his mother Carla, who had been caught in the aftermath of the Colossal Titan's kick.

Thinking of his mother, who could never walk properly again due to her crushed ankle, Eren still felt grateful.

Had it not been for the Military Police that day, both he and Mikasa, and his mother would have died.

"Well, I did, but I didn't order them to go there. They went on their own."

"Still, thank you for saving her!"

"Thank the Military Police, not me. I don't know much about it."

Nike only now learned that Carla survived. She had thought it was possible if luck was on their side, but to think the Military Police saved her. Nike listened to Eren's story with interest.

'Should I rely on them for the Trost operation?'

Of course, the problem was that she always planned everything with the idea of grinding people down.

Thanks to Nike and Eren's conversation, the carriage became lively.

Instead of seeing Nike as a distant figure, they began to see her as one of their own, which led to the next question.

"Um... what should I do to become a Military Police officer working directly under the king?"

It was Marco Bott.

As soon as Eren and Nike finished talking, Marco started asking questions.

His dream was to work directly under the king, swearing loyalty to him.

Knowing what the king was in the original story, Nike hesitated. How should she explain this? She tried to keep her emotions from showing and finally spoke.

"Work twice as hard as others. Then you might make it."

"Effort is the answer. I'll work even harder."

After Marco's simple consultation, the carriage grew noisy. From Armin's tactical manual to Ymir asking how to marry Christa, the carriage suddenly became very lively.

"Everyone, calm down, calm down!"

Even when Christa tried to calm them, the carriage remained noisy.

In the noisy but lively carriage, those in the carriage behind envied them greatly.

They were so envious that they began to question why they were even there.

It was just a different carriage, yet it felt like ice compared to the warm, cheerful atmosphere in Nike's carriage.

'Why did I have to fight and end up here?'

Jean looked up at the sky, denying his situation. The sky was clear, contrasting with his mood.

At least until tomorrow, it seemed certain there would be no rain. Sighing, Jean lowered his head.

Looking around, he felt like he could hear the thoughts of those in the carriage.

'Christa or Nike! They're both great! Why is a harem illegal in this country?!'

'I want to go home...'

Reiner and Bertholdt, close friends with mismatched thoughts.

'Where are we going again?'

'I'm hungry...'

Connie and Sasha, who always seemed foolish.

Finally, Jean looked at Annie and was horrified.

'How should I mess up Levi's room?'

Crazy... Jean, convinced he was hearing things, hit his head with his fist.