The Empire of Titans Chapter 47 (A Knife in The Back) (Patreon)

' In stark contrast to the cramped and dingy holes he had previously inhabited beneath the bustling streets, this particular chamber offered a striking departure. Despite the presence of dampness and the insidious creep of mold that carved intricate patterns along the walls, the room boasted a surprisingly generous expanse. The tattered remnants of cloth, serving as makeshift curtains for the solitary window that peered into the dimly lit corridor, added a touch of forlorn elegance.

And while the cooking pots, coated in a thick layer of dust, may have appeared worn and neglected, they remained steadfastly functional, fulfilling their intended purpose with unwavering dedication. But it was the bed that truly captured his attention. With its robust frame and two simple bedsheets, this humble sleeping arrangement could be deemed a luxurious haven in comparison to the destitution he had encountered in his travels. The thought of stumbling upon such a place while on the trail of a quarry filled him with a sense of wistful contemplation. He had a family? These musings swirled within his mind, prompting reflections on the resilience of the human spirit and the lengths one would go to create a semblance of home in the most unlikely of places.

As he found himself amidst the sordid and scandalous ambiance of the brothel quarters, an observation caught his attention, one that was truly worth noting. It was a realization that his sister, with her distinct individuality, had always approached life with a daring spirit, skillfully navigating through the darkest of circumstances and perpetually opting for unconventional paths. Yet, as he soaked in the atmosphere, an entirely different narrative unfolded before his senses. The air surrounding him was thick and stagnant, tainted with the pungent odor of mildew and decaying matter, permeating the very essence of the room. It was a scent that whispered an untold chapter in the intricate tapestry of their "family life," an olfactory cue that Kenny Ackerman, with a slight raise of his eyebrow, promptly identified and acknowledged.

In a matter of mere seconds, an unsettling scene unfolded before his eyes, leaving him both emotionally shaken and bewildered. The sight that greeted him was nothing short of a tragic tableau - the lifeless body of his beloved sister lay motionless, an eerie stillness permeating the air. As if fate had a cruel sense of irony, he found himself face to face with his nephew, who possessed a skeletal appearance.

A surge of despair washed over Kenny, engulfing him like a relentless tide. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on his shoulders, dragging him down into a pit of desolation. This was not the outcome he had envisioned or anticipated, far from the scenario that he had hoped for. Despite any personal differences or distance that may have existed between them, Kuchel was family, and the notion of her demise in this desolate place, her body decaying away in pitiful solitude, struck a chord deep within him.

But it was not just the loneliness of her passing that tormented him. His gaze shifted towards the frail figure huddled in the far corner of the room, a mere shadow of what once was. Kuchel's decision to bring a child into this harsh and unforgiving world seemed incomprehensible to him. Who in their right mind, he pondered, would subject an innocent being to such treacherous circumstances? The sense of anger and bewilderment swirled within him, mingled with the sorrow that threatened to consume his very being.

...And now what?

Levi. Just Levi. Kenny. Just Kenny. There is no need for surnames, no need for more acquaintance. What good would there be for him to say, 'Hey, pleased to meet ya, kid; I'm your mom's brother. We didn't talk often; that's why she died here, and I didn't even know it. Now I don't know what to do with you, and you're half dead anyway.' 'Better to just avoid all the awkwardness in that.

"Kuchel and I were acquaintances... Pleased to meet ya, kid."

The weight of those words seemed to echo through the room, resounding with a sense of both resignation and curiosity. As Kenny observed Levi's silent gaze, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming mix of sympathy and annoyance. The child's hollow eyes seemed to hold a lifetime of untold stories, leaving one to wonder how long he had been abandoned in this desolation.

Levi appeared as though he had been deprived of the simplest of human necessities - sustenance and cleanliness. His fragile frame barely held onto life, resembling more of a walking corpse draped in an oversized, tattered shirt that had likely once belonged to Kuchel. At that moment, a wave of frustration and helplessness washed over Kenny. The gravity of the situation became painfully clear, and he found himself grappling with the question of what he was supposed to do now.

As Kenny's fingers instinctively reached up to scratch the unruly mop of hair concealed beneath his worn-out hat, he found himself immersed in a cesspool of contemplation, forced to assess the dismal array of choices that the despicable situation, orchestrated by Kuchel had thrust upon him. To merely pretend to be oblivious to the innocent child's plight would require a level of cold-heartedness and callousness that even the most seasoned serial killer would shudder at. Kenny couldn't help but snort at the very notion. However, abandoning the vulnerable youngster to wither away in this wretched predicament seemed feeble and feeble-minded. Although the boy's frailty made his pitiful existence a fleeting one, Kenny contemplated that it might be more compassionate, in its own twisted way, to swiftly end his life and release him from the clutches of despair.

Kenny wasn't a sadist.

Kenny reluctantly raised his weary glance at Levi. The gaze that met him from the other side of the room was a chilling mix of coldness, silence, exhaustion, and unwavering determination. Feeling the weight of the situation pressing against his chest, Kenny let out a deep sigh that echoed in the dimly lit room. He leaned his head against the grimy wall, the rough texture scratching against his skin. Despite the bleakness of their circumstances, a glimmer of hope flickered in Kenny's eyes. There had to be another way, a hidden path that they hadn't considered yet.

Summoning his resolve, Kenny mustered the strength to ask Levi, "Can ya stand up, kid?"

A perplexed expression crossed Levi's face as he questioned, "Why?"

Kenny's features contorted with a mix of frustration and disbelief. He let out an exasperated snort, unable to comprehend Levi's lack of understanding. "Whaddya mean, why? What the hell, just tell me if ya can or not."

Silence hung in the air, unyielding and heavy. Frustration gnawed at Kenny's insides, compelling him to take matters into his own hands. With a determined grunt, he hoisted himself up from the worn-out floor, his tired muscles protesting the effort. Another sigh escaped his lips, this time louder and more pronounced. He absentmindedly rubbed his neck and then his cheek, a futile attempt to find solace in the repetitive motion that offered him no answers or guidance.

Levi didn't move at first but opened the embrace he had over his thin legs, an audible cracking sound from the bones as he did so.

Last chance. Think well what you're getting yourself into.'He couldn't take care of a kid for every reason imaginable. He was unfit to be a father, wouldn't have the patience to raise a kid, knew nothing about children, and he couldn't afford to go around with a damn brat causing him trouble while he killed MPs and took care of Uri's errands. And since when had Kenny needed a conscience or a soul?

He sighed for what seemed like the tenth time in ten minutes, not sure if he was admitting defeat or not.

Well, screw it.

Levi's shrill cry echoed through the room, a strange amalgamation of surprise, weakness, and sheer oddity, as Kenny gracefully crouched down, his movements reminiscent of a predator closing in on its prey. With a deft motion, Kenny slipped his hands beneath Levi's trembling arms, but a fleeting moment of panic gripped him. What if he had inadvertently caused some internal damage? Levi's frame offered no solace, devoid of any softness, merely a collection of protruding bones threatening to pierce through the fragile veil of paper-thin skin. Astonishingly lightweight, it felt as though Kenny held a ribcage within his open palms, a delicate balance teetering on the edge of vulnerability. Kenny's fingers trembled, not from fear but from the realization that one wrong move could easily dislocate Levi's fragile shoulders. A hiss escaped Kenny's lips, betraying his inner turmoil, as he frantically attempted to decipher the proper way to cradle this enigmatic child without causing harm.

Levi was surprisingly small, even being what, four? Five? How old was he? Well, maths for another time. Despite that weird cat squeak he let out, surprise or pain, he didn't make any other action or sound as Kenny picked him up and cradled him in one arm - he was both small and light enough to be carried effortlessly. His longcoat was heavier than the kid. Kenny expected Levi to hold on to him, or something like kids tend to do, but this brat barely laid his greasy head against Kenny's shoulder.

Kenny glanced at the room as he picked up his suitcase with his free hand, looking down at Kuchel on her deathbed. There was nothing else he could take from this place, just another humiliation for the Ackerman family, more death for all of them. Despite him working for Uri now, reducing the number of threats they had, he couldn't have prevented something like this from happening.

A quick but intense flash of anger burned in him. At least he wouldn't let another person die that pathetically. That was something to commit to memory through all the changes this choice here would have in Kenny's life.

"All goodbyes have been said, so there's no need for more of those. Let's go."

If he expected some resistance, he clearly hadn't fully understood how weak the kid was. Or maybe, eventually, he would understand how unusual he was. For now, Kenny exited the room, leaving the door open behind him and without letting Levi look back at it.

The toothless fat pimp stood up in outrage when he saw the lump on Kenny's lap. "Hey! Ya gotta pay if ya wanna take somethin-"

The suitcase fell to the floor as the knife flew to Kenny's hand faster than the fat man could flinch, his eyes popping open and toothless mouth gaping as the blade was aimed at him, waiting for just a whim to slit his throat open.

"Ya're not choking in yar own blood right now 'cause I might puncture his lung if I shake him too much."

The pimp most likely hadn't realized the lump on Kenny's arm was breathing and fixing him with those cold eyes. The fat man mumbled something Kenny didn't care to listen to, and he elected to leave the disgusting man there. On some other occasion, Kenny might just kill him. Not now.

Kenny stepped out of the brothel, for once not interested in the busty ladies in the doorway that called him, then noticing the amount of dark stains in his long coat and the kid on his arm.

"I don't even know where to start with ya," he said, walking down the street looking for a bar he remembered from the old days. The brat remained silent, not even looking at him. Kenny actually raised an eyebrow and peeked beneath the dirty hair to try and see if he was still alive. He seemed to be. "Anyway, ya need a bath, but eating's more important. So you're eating."

Levi did move at that, looking up at him. Kenny squinted back, and that seemed to be their conversation.

The pub was packed, and almost everyone glanced at them several times. Kenny never minded anyone's gazes and likewise ignored them here. He paid for some water, soup, and bread and signaled the worker to push the dishes to Levi when they were delivered to their table, picking the big ass mug he got for himself and pouring some much-deserved beer down his throat.

"I ain't gonna chew it up for ya like some damn bird, so ya eat with yar own damn teeth," he added when Levi blinked at the food presented to him.

He wondered if the kid was broken. Emotionless living had its advantages, Kenny mused. But anyway, they'd work things given time. Let it be for now.

"Maybe we should have done it the other way around," Kenny commented as Levi took a first small bite of the bread, blinked, and then quickly continued until his mouth was stuffed. "Ya can't have a bath now, so I guess we'll just have to put up with the smell."

"You don't smell too good, either. And I'd never eat your spit food, that'd be disgusting. Can we eat in silence?"

Kenny choked not too subtly on his beer, coughs and chuckles loudly mixed, attracting even more glances at them.

"Well, ya really ain't the dying, giving up type, are ya? Some bites in and you're talking back already. Very well, brat, eat up and get healthy again, 'cause I ain't dragging ya around me if ya can't keep up, ya hear?"

Levi honored his own request and didn't reply again. Kenny and Levi both poured down their own drinks, and Kenny quickly became bored with him and started talking with one of the drunkards nearby, leaving the kid to eat undisturbed.

Kenny wondered many times if he had made the right choice, being selfless at that one time in his life. In angry moods, he even regretted it. But looking back on all those times, he knew he would have done the same thing. '

In the midst of Kenny's mind being consumed by contemplation about the stupid brat, an abrupt interruption shattered his train of thought. The resonating knock on the door reverberated through the room, causing him to emit a disapproving grunt as he reluctantly tore himself away from his ruminations.

With a tinge of irritation coating his words, he mustered the energy to direct the intruder inside. "Come in," he commanded, his annoyance palpable in his voice. As the door creaked open, revealing the figure on the other side, Kenny's gaze fell upon Caven.

Caven, a youthful woman of graceful stature, possessed a slender, well-toned physique that mirrored her underlying strength. A sense of tranquil melancholy seemed to cloak her countenance as Kenny struggled to recollect a single instance in which he witnessed her lips curve into a smile. Her lustrous blonde tresses cascaded just past her shoulders, elegantly restrained by a pair of bangs meticulously parted down the center. Clad in form-fitting ebony trousers, a crisp white button-up shirt, and a pair of sleek obsidian shoes, she exuded an air of effortless sophistication. Notably, she adorned herself with the formidable Anti-Personnel ODM Gear.

As she stepped into the dimly lit room, her eyes instinctively sought out her squad leader. With a swift yet respectful motion, she raised her hand to her heart, offering a crisp salute. In response, Kenny exhaled a weary sigh through his nose, his expression revealing a hint of frustration mixed with curiosity.

With a wickedly wide grin that sent shivers down her spine, he posed a question that hung in the air, dripping with suspense. "Well, what is happening that is making everyone so excited?" Kenny's voice resonated with a mix of amusement and trepidation, for he had sensed an underlying shift in the atmosphere since the early hours of the morning. Ordinarily, Kenny's days as the esteemed Squad Leader of the Military Police were a monotonous affair, devoid of any thrilling undertakings. Rarely did he find himself embroiled in anything remotely exciting. However, today was different. Today, an invisible current of anticipation coursed through the air, hinting at something far from mundane, something out of the ordinary.

As the first rays of dawn bathed the council chamber, casting a soft golden glow upon the room, the members of the council commenced their day's proceedings. Amidst the flurry of activity, papers rustled, and voices filled the air, carrying with them a cacophony of complaints that threatened to pierce even the calmest of souls. In this sea of frustration and self-importance, Kenny found himself seated among them, acutely aware of the patience he had to summon within himself. It would have been all too easy to succumb to the dark whispers urging him to silence the incessant oinking of these little pigs who believed the world revolved solely around their desires. Yet, despite the overwhelming temptation, Kenny recognized the significance of each person present. Thus, with a heavy heart and great reluctance, he quelled the violent thoughts that danced in his mind, choosing instead to navigate the turbulent waters of the council's discourse with restraint and unwavering composure.

As the seemingly interminable meeting dragged on, with each passing minute feeling like an eternity, an air of restlessness and frustration permeated the room. However, just when it seemed like the oppressive atmosphere would never dissipate, a sudden commotion erupted as the heavy doors swung open, revealing the figure of a battle-worn soldier. Bursting into the room with an urgency that demanded immediate attention, the soldier's breathless words hung in the air, electrifying the atmosphere. With a mixture of shock, disbelief, and alarm, everyone turned their gaze towards him, their eyes widening as he swiftly relayed the astonishing news: the colossal titan had once again materialized out of thin air, wreaking havoc upon the gates of the city of Trost.

Upon receiving the crucial information, the True King wasted no time in issuing a resolute command: in the event of Wall Rose's imminent collapse, the gates of Wall Sina were to be firmly shut, denying entry to any desperate souls seeking refuge. Unanimously, the other esteemed members of the small council, driven by their apathy towards the fate of Wall Rose's entire populace at the hands of relentless Titans, lent their unwavering support to this audacious decree. Meanwhile, Kenny found himself enticed by the idea of implementing his own plan. However, his plans were abruptly halted when he received an unexpected piece of news: someone had turned into a Titan in the City of Trost, someone that wasn't the Armoured Titan or the Colossal Titan.

Kenny knew that meant that Rod was hiding something from them, and when that information had arrived, Rod had turned pale, paler than usual, something Kenny had noticed right away but had kept his mouth shut for the moment.

Now, it had been five hours since he received the last report; Kenny looked at Caven, motioning for her to continue and report everything she knew.

Kenny was silent as Caven told him of someone named Eren Yeager. Apparently, he was able to turn into a Titan, and with his strength, he was able to seal the hole in the wall using a Giant Boulder. Kenny's eyes narrowed upon hearing that what Caven reported made no sense; the Royal Family were the only ones that held the power of the Titans, so from where did Eren get that power?

Kenny knew there was something going on since five years ago; he had not once seen the rest of the royal family, only Rod; Kenny knew the damn snake was hiding something. Kenny had tried to find the truth, but the rat would hide everything. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to find out the truth.

As Caven told him everything that had happened in The City of Trost, Kenny found himself enveloped in an unfamiliar silence. His eyes widened in surprise as his lips quivered, desperately trying to suppress an imminent eruption of laughter. And then, as if unable to contain it any longer, a burst of mirth escaped from deep within him, reverberating through the air, causing Caven to recoil in astonishment.

The perplexed expression on her face mirrored the thoughts racing through her mind, questioning the reason behind her captain's unexpected and boisterous amusement. "Captain?" she called out tentatively, seeking an explanation for his peculiar reaction.

But Kenny, still chuckling, regained his composure, his voice now laced with a mix of playful anger and growing rage. "Rod, you sly worm!" he hissed through gritted teeth, abruptly rising from his seat, causing the wooden chair to clatter to the floor behind him, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Caven's voice sliced through the tense silence, her eyes fixed on the retreating figure of Captain Kenny. "Captain??" she called out once more, her voice echoing through the corridor.

Undeterred by his lack of response, she swiftly pursued him, her footsteps echoing against the cold, steel floor. Desperate to catch up with him, she called out his name again, her voice tinged with urgency. Meanwhile, Kenny continued to forge ahead, his gaze fixed straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge Caven's presence.

There was a distinct edge to his voice as he finally turned to face her, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and frustration. "I will make Rod a visit," he declared, his voice laced with a steely resolve.

Caven's perplexed expression deepened, her brows furrowing in confusion as she questioned his motives. "Why?" she inquired, her voice filled with curiosity and concern.

A surge of intense emotion surged through Kenny, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. With a venomous hiss, he unleashed his pent-up frustration. "The worm has been hiding the truth long enough," he seethed, his words dripping with disdain. It had been a long time since he had felt such raw, unbridled fury.

.

.

With a powerful and resounding kick, Kenny burst through the door, causing the wooden frame to tremble and groan under his force. The sheer impact of his entrance almost sent the door crashing to the ground, a testament to his unwavering determination. Across the room, Rod, engrossed in his work behind a sturdy oak desk, was abruptly jolted from his concentration by the thunderous reverberation. Startled, he sprang to his feet, his eyes widening in disbelief as he witnessed Kenny's relentless march toward him. A flicker of fear danced in Rod's gaze as he beheld the intensity of Kenny's furious expression, a storm brewing within his eyes.

As Rod began to utter the words, "Kenny, what is the mean-" a sudden interruption ensued. Kenny, fueled by an inexplicable surge of strength, swiftly seized Rod's tunic, effortlessly hoisting him up into the air with a single commanding arm. In a desperate bid for freedom, Rod relentlessly wriggled and squirmed, desperately attempting to extricate himself from Kenny's formidable grip. As the seconds ticked away, Rod's complexion grew increasingly pallid, his body drenched in perspiration, bearing witness to the overwhelming fear that had gripped his very being.

As if caught in the clutches of a nightmare, Rod mustered the strength to rasp out the words, "K-Kenny, what are you doing?" Yet, Kenny's vice-like grip on his tunic only grew tighter, suffocating him both physically and mentally.

The intensity of Kenny's menacing glare sent shivers racing down Rod's spine, his breaths becoming labored and shallow.

With an abrupt and forceful motion, Kenny hurled Rod effortlessly across the table, propelling him directly towards the chair. The collision sent both Rod and the chair crashing to the floor, leaving him writhing in agony. As he gingerly massaged his throbbing throat, Rod's attempts to collect himself were swiftly thwarted by Kenny's menacing approach. Like a predator closing in on its prey, Kenny closed the distance, his fingers closing firmly around Rod's windpipe, gradually lifting him higher until his feet dangled helplessly in mid-air, robbed of any solid ground beneath them.

"K-k-Kenny-" Struggling to form words, Rod stammered, his voice trembling in fear as he desperately tried to speak. Each syllable escaped his lips with increasing difficulty as if the weight of the situation pressed upon his vocal cords. But before Rod could utter another sound, Kenny forcefully propelled his fragile body against the imposing glass of the immense square window. The impact reverberated through the room, resonating with an ominous, almost deafening echo. A hairline fracture emerged, silently spreading across the transparent barrier, and in that fleeting moment, Rod's heart skipped a beat. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning - if the window were to shatter completely, he would plunge helplessly from the lofty height of the third floor.

"Rod Reiss, tell me the truth now, or-" Kenny stopped talking as his left hand stealthily reached for the concealed weapon at his side, skillfully maneuvering to reveal a short shotgun that gleamed ominously in the light. A tense silence enveloped the room as the barrel of the shotgun found its target, its cold metal pressing against Rod's forehead, sending a shiver down his spine. The color drained from Rod's face, leaving it as pallid as freshly fallen snow, his eyes widening in fear and his body involuntarily recoiling from the menacing proximity of the firearm. "Or you will be half a head shorter, your choice?" With a voice that carried the wrath of a thousand storms, Kenny's demand hung in the air like a charged electric current, each word laced with a potent mixture of fury and determination. The tip of the barrel pressed firmly against Rod's forehead, causing him to wince in both physical and emotional agony as he grappled with the weighty decision that lay before him.

"A-about what?" With his voice trembling and his breath catching in his throat, Rod questioned Kenny, his heart pounding so fiercely it seemed poised to break free from his chest. As he struggled to maintain composure, desperately attempting to steady his breathing, he found his throat as parched as the arid expanse of a desert. Yet, despite his own apprehension, the sight of Kenny's grin sent a shiver down his spine, a sinister curl of lips that could send anyone fleeing in terror. And then, with a chilling finality, Kenny pressed the end of the shotgun's barrel against Rod's forehead, exerting enough pressure to cause his skin to tear ever so slightly, a bead of blood marking the beginning of a harrowing ordeal.

"Where's your family, Rod? Did they all go on vacation in paradise? Do you want to go there?" Kenny demanded as he forcefully propelled his body against the window pane once more. The impact shattered the glass, unleashing a fierce gust of cold wind that swept into the room. Positioned precariously on the precipice of the broken window, Rod frantically attempted to maneuver his way inside, desperate to escape the biting chill. Yet, Kenny's iron grip remained unyielding, firmly keeping him in place, his strength overpowering any hope of liberation.

"Uri would not have agreed with-" Rod's words interrupted once again when Kenny's grip around Rod's tunic tightened like a vice as if the weight of his conviction was transferred into his fingers. Without a moment's hesitation, Kenny propelled his arm forward, sending it soaring over the jagged remnants of the broken window. In an instant, Rod found himself teetering on the precipice, his body suspended perilously in the air, solely reliant on the steadfast hold of Kenny's grip on his tunic.

"You talk about Uri again, I will throw you off the window." With a menacing glare, Kenny issued a chilling warning to Rod. As the tension hung heavy in the air, Kenny's fingers gradually loosened their vice-like grip on Rod's tunic, prompting Rod's arm to instinctively wrap around Kenny's, desperately seeking stability and avoiding the harrowing plunge that awaited him below.

In a moment of sheer desperation, Rod's voice erupted into a piercing scream, resonating with the weight of his resolve. "I will tell you everything!" he cried out, his words laced with a mixture of fear and determination. As the echoes of his plea reverberated through the room, Kenny's face twisted into a malevolent grin, his eyes gleaming with triumph. With an air of sadistic satisfaction, Kenny forcefully hurled Rod into the confinements of the room, causing his body to collide with the unyielding surface of the desk. A guttural moan escaped Rod's lips as a surge of agonizing pain shot through his entire being. Every fiber of his back seemed to scream in protest, amplifying the torment he endured. In a matter of seconds, Kenny swiftly closed the distance between them, his presence looming ominously before Rod's weakened form.

"Well," Kenny began, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and caution, as he steadied his gun and fixed his unwavering gaze upon Rod once more. "Talk," he commanded, his words cutting through the silence like a sharp blade, leaving no room for evasion or deceit. Rod's eyes darted nervously, uncertainty etched across his face, as he reluctantly acquiesced to Kenny's demand with a hesitant nod. With a deep breath, he began to recount the events that had unfolded five years ago. How someone had sneaked into their hidden place, how he had fought Frieda and then eaten her.

As Rod poured out every detail, recounting the tumultuous events that had unfolded, Kenny's countenance morphed into one of passive contemplation; his eyes fixated on some distant point as he delved into the recesses of his mind.

In a twist that caught Rod completely off guard, Kenny suddenly sprang to life; his body propelled towards the exit with an unyielding determination. "Kenny?!" Rod's voice echoed through the room, a desperate plea as he disregarded the searing pain that shot through his body, his resolve unwavering. The sound of his voice pierced the air, causing Kenny's hand to freeze just as it clasped the cold handle of the door.

"I figure a trial will be held for the brat, it's time for you to make your best move if you want the Royal Family to regain its power." Kenny said nonchalantly, not looking at Rod. As Rod absorbed Kenny's words, a mischievous smile began to creep across his visage, a telltale sign of his anticipation and delight at the prospect.

"I know that, but not just him. A trial will be held for the other four Shifters," Rod quickly explained, knowing that if he played his cards right, the Royal Family could have the Founding Titan, along with the Colossal, Armoured, and the other one he didn't know the name of.

With unwavering determination gleaming in his eyes, Kenny confidently declared, "I will have my team out there, we will figure out where they are hidden and will bring them all here," As his words hung in the air, Kenny's hand gracefully grasped the door handle, deftly manipulating it until the door swung wide open.

"We should be careful. We don't know how much the Survey Corps knows, but we should make sure they don't learn much. Otherwise, there will be chaos." Rod explained, knowing that the chances of the Survey Corps getting information from the captured shifters was growing as time passed.

"I know that, Rod. Don't worry, one of my man has already infiltrated the Survey Corps." Kenny said with a wide grin, remembering what his informer had told Kenny so far.

I saw Squad Leader Hange hiding a syringe, but I don't know where she could have put it...