"What would make up that one percent?"
[Me.]
"?"
[As you can see—and as I said—they and I all come from other worlds.]
[In those worlds, there are no Titans, but each has its own complete power system.]
[In your world, Titans are that system.]
[In my world, Demons are that system.]
[And the source that generates those powers—or the strongest entity within a world's power—is called the "World Source."]
[It is the foundation of a world's existence.]
[If it's seized or destroyed, then…]
"The world is destroyed?"
[The world is erased.]
[Everything—an entire world—vanishes. Every trace of life lived, including the story you've set in motion, is wiped out and ceases to exist.]
"Then why are you that one percent?"
[Because I am a living World Source.]
"Are you the strongest being in that world?"
[You can think of it that way.]
[Once you seize the Founding Titan, your odds will become two percent.]
At that, Roger furrowed his brow.
It was the first time since he'd grown up that anyone had told him there were vaster, broader worlds beyond this one.
Not only that, but there were beings who came specifically to plunder the very foundations of other worlds.
Who were those people?
How were they to be dealt with?
[I hadn't intended to tell you, but right now it's probably better that you know.]
"One percent, two percent," Roger did the math in his head. "So you're saying each of us holds the strongest power of a world—two in total between us—while they have the combined power of a hundred worlds?"
[By my estimation, yes.]
"Then I have a question."
[What question?]
"By what means am I supposed to reach at least a hundred worlds?"
[What are you trying to do?]
"You know exactly what."
[Regretfully, I don't know how to do that.]
[As far as I know, they use a black hole to transport themselves.]
[But how that hole is created, I don't know.]
"…"
[Someone's coming.]
[I can't explain the details now. Another time.]
[You now have the basics.]
[What to do with it is up to you.]
[Don't die. Take care of that body.]
With that, the parasite fell silent.
Roger stood there on the ground. Behind him, the Titan statue had a chunk blasted off—unsightly, but more than half remained.
Titans couldn't climb the crystal-slick surface, so the statue still served to hold them back.
Roger stared at the ground.
He was thinking.
He'd just been told a lot—things he couldn't have grasped before. He needed to digest it and come up with something workable.
If their goal was to seize the Founding Titan, then what was the best move right now?
Stop looking for the Founding?
Would that really work?
According to the parasite, the only reason those people allowed him to live while he was still weak was because they wanted him to locate the Founding Titan. Once it was found, they would eliminate him and plunder the Founding—or rather the "World Source."
At that point, everything would be erased and nothing would have any meaning.
Heh. Interesting.
Roger didn't get angry; he'd always had a curiosity about bandit types—and an urge to bully them.
Growing up, there were bad kids who bullied him for being withdrawn, but he always turned it around—sometimes even bullying them back—earning school punishments and a stint in police detention.
He didn't know why. It was an addiction.
Addicted to bullying bullies.
Maybe it was because he'd been too withdrawn as a kid.
Maybe it was because the time he and his buddies climbed a wall to sneak out, a Marley officer set the dogs on them and his friend died, and only he made it back alive.
Back then, when Reiner was being pushed around by a group of upperclassmen, Roger happened to pass by and saw it.
He had planned to walk on and pretend he hadn't seen anything, but seeing how badly Reiner was being abused, his addiction flared. Even biting his fingertip wouldn't have suppressed the rush.
He wanted to bully someone.
He wanted to bully the bad guys who thought they were strong.
So he went over and beat those kids until they were facedown on the floor, unable to move.
Thinking that wasn't satisfying enough, he smashed their front teeth, stripped off their clothes, tied their hands behind their backs with sleeves, and hung them at the bathroom entrance for everyone to see.
Afterward, so Reiner wouldn't feel indebted and start doing this and that for him, Roger took a small payment from Reiner and said they were square.
But it still wasn't over.
Once you bully bad guys once, you want to do it a second time.
The second time, Roger sought out the upperclassmen who had been peeping on girls in the restroom. On the pretext that they weren't wearing their hats, he beat them again, knocked them flat on the bathroom floor, unable to crawl up.
"You're out of your mind!!" those punks had screamed.
When they finished, Roger stripped them again and tied them to the goalposts on the soccer field, where they were laughed at all day.
The next day, Roger couldn't help himself—he went after them again.
They begged for mercy and swore to turn over a new leaf, not doing even a single bad thing ever again.
Roger said he didn't care.
He said doing bad things was everyone's freedom. His, too.
Then he beat them again.
This time he didn't strip them—he just extorted some cash.
By then, those long-arrogant kids finally understood.
Compared to Roger, they were novices.
The next day they knelt at the school gate, kowtowing over and over, begging to call Roger "boss."
Seeing their sincerity, Roger lost interest in bullying them and spared them.
After that, the school gained a few model students with top grades.
They not only turned in lost money, they helped old ladies cross the road, and so on—much to Reiner's annoyance for several semesters.
Now, someone else wanted to steal something.
And they were no weaklings.
All at once, Roger got a little excited.
Perfect.
You try to rob me first—now I have reason to rob you.
Thinking that, Roger's excitement rose.
"Hey—"
A voice called Roger from behind, pulling him out of his memories and back to reality.
Pocketing Kira Yoshikage's button, Roger turned. Seeing Levi, he waved.
"Too slow, Levi!"
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