With the outside enemy dealt with, and with the clout to stand toe-to-toe with the three corps inside the Walls, Roger's next priority was clear: find the Founding's Coordinate that could trigger the Rumbling.
Because Rod Reiss—the only man who knew where the Coordinate was—was dead, Roger had already sounded out the royal nobles imprisoned by the new regime. There was a man named Darius Zackly heading that government, and the punishments he applied to the royals went beyond anything Roger had imagined—cruel and brutal to the extreme.
He ran a tube into their rectums and hung them upside down, forcing them to eat where one should expel, and to expel where one should eat.
Such methods kept prisoners alive while subjecting them to endless pain and degradation.
Many broke. Some killed themselves when they found an opening, ending a torment worse than death.
Yet even under torture that savage, not one of the royals uttered a word of truth—about Titans or anything else.
Zackly had to conclude they knew nothing—completely kept in the dark.
Roger didn't know whether this was "noble integrity" refusing to bow to an enemy, but from the way they begged for mercy and even framed each other, he could tell…
They truly knew nothing.
Forget the Coordinate—most likely they didn't even know the truth of the Titans.
Rod Reiss had been timid and cautious; Roger felt that deep. Rod feared even a prisoner bound in chains; he'd had Kenny carve him into a limbless stump to remove future threats, and he carried a Titan spinal-fluid syringe everywhere, paranoid about surprise attacks.
Would a man like that hand the Titans' truth—or the Coordinate's location—to a gaggle of unreliable court ministers?
What a joke, Roger thought.
But something else nagged him.
If Rod really had the Coordinate, why hadn't he used it?
Was it inaccessible? Or had the Coordinate never been in his hands?
Turn it over and over, and Roger kept coming back to the same conclusion: Rod had probably lost it.
That would explain why he partnered with the outsiders—Annie, Pieck, and Bertholdt—trading "recover the Jaw Titan" and "find the Coordinate" as conditions to join forces against Roger.
But they—especially Rod—hadn't foreseen that Roger would offer himself up, feign surrender, and trick Rod into swallowing the Jaw Titan and the Armored Titan, tearing up his pact with Annie and the others on the spot.
If they'd kept their heads and worked him from the shadows—ambushes, evolving reprisals—then over time the winner might not have been Roger.
Unfortunately…
Rod Reiss was too stupid.
A little bait and he exposed himself—and toppled his entire royal house.
At that, Roger felt a flicker of luck.
He'd only meant to lure the man behind the curtain, then kill him, then fan an uprising against the crown.
Who would've thought…
Rod could turn into a hundred-meter-class Titan.
Good thing Roger had weathered the revenge.
Now it was time to harvest…
But where was the Coordinate?
Roger had scoured the Walls for so long alone, and gotten nowhere.
Maybe it was time to widen the search.
Recruit more people. Expand Scorpio. Create more chances to find it.
Plenty came to join Scorpio every day, but most clustered in Stohess; they couldn't carry the name far.
And he knew the group's origins were a handicap—born as a gang, smashing the rich to enrich themselves. Turning that into the reputation of a private corps was… hard.
So, to raise Scorpio's profile and draw more recruits, Roger decided it was time to go out and campaign again.
Once he'd settled the organization's day-to-day, he picked a fine-weather day and headed out with Tours.
First stop: the royal capital, Mitras. If you want coverage, start from the center. From there you could radiate through the districts around Wall Rose and the four barbicans attached to it.
They rode a carriage in the dust and wind and, before long, rolled into Mitras.
Unlike the old stillness of the capital, the city now was noisy everywhere, voices shouting on every street.
"Yes, they toppled the monarchy and formed a new government. People inside the Walls aren't oppressed; they're free. But… isn't this a bit too free?" Roger muttered. Was it really fine now to bellow in the street all day?
Where were the Military Police?
"Tours, stop the carriage."
Roger flipped the curtain and called out.
Tours pulled the reins at once and brought them to a halt.
"What is it, boss?"
"Come with me. Let's see what's going on up there."
"Uh… are you sure you want to see?"
"Hm? Is there a problem?"
"N-no."
Awkward but obedient, Tours opened the door.
Roger stepped down onto the stirrup and out of the cab.
He wore a pressed suit and a neatly combed, Marleyan slick-back—an intentional look, meant to blunt the public's fear of him as a Titan shifter.
It worked. Walking the street with Tours, he drew the eyes of every young beauty in view.
To them his face was all clean lines and steel. His gaze was steady, his presence clear and distinct—different from other men.
Without meaning to, they lost themselves, tucking Roger into the softest corner of their hearts.
Roger didn't notice. He didn't consider that a single passing glance from him had flushed their faces red, sent them hiding behind family and doorways, peeking out with half a shoulder at most.
He cut straight through to the crowd of demonstrators shouting in front of the carriage.
They held placards—"Give Your Hearts," "Expel Them," "Despicable Foreigners"—and shouted:
"Down with Roger!"
"Titans are humanity's enemy! Titan shifters are treacherous spies!"
"Drive out the Titans!"
"Give your hearts!"
Roger found it… puzzling.
What?
Wasn't he the one who saved you?
He tapped a shoulder beside him, drawing faces his way.
"What are you shouting?"
"Down with Roger! What, are you from the sticks? Listen—Roger's a despicable scumbag. He hurt our most beloved commander, and he's the greatest threat to humanity. He has to die! Come on, join us—chant with us!"
"Oh."
Roger nodded and turned to leave—but the man snagged his arm.
"Hey, get in here and shout! What, are you going to side with humanity's enemies?"
"No. I'd love to join you. I just can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm Roger."
"…"
When the words dropped, the street went silent.
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