Anyone familiar with transmigration stories would know this:
If you enter a world whose plot you understand and recklessly alter events too early, you lose the advantage of foresight.
So why did Lock do it?
No one knew.
Perhaps not even Lock himself.
…
On the training field, Keith Shadis stood with his usual sour expression.
"Eren Yeager. Are you ready?"
"Sir! Ready!"
"Begin."
…
Knowing exactly what would unfold, Lock did not bother watching.
Instead, he shamelessly drifted toward Annie, who stood near the back of the crowd.
Ignoring the strange looks around him, he positioned himself at her side.
Neither looked at the other.
"After the exam today, want another drink?"
Annie kept her face cold, but the stiffness was obvious.
"I was wrong, alright? I didn't know you'd never had alcohol before."
She turned and walked away.
Lock followed without hesitation.
"Hey, where are you going? Aren't you taking the exam?"
She led him to a small clearing behind the cafeteria—a secluded spot often used by cadets seeking privacy.
Lock widened his eyes dramatically.
"Oh my. Annie, bringing me somewhere like this? Isn't it a little early for us?"
…
Annie turned around.
Her posture shifted instantly into her familiar combat stance.
"Lock. Today, I'm going to teach you how to talk to girls."
The teasing grin faded from Lock's face.
His bones began to itch.
"Annie, you don't actually think you can beat me, do you?"
He shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.
"To be honest, by thirteen I'd already beaten everyone in the Underground."
His right arm extended forward, palm vertical. His left palm was retracted at his waist. Right leg forward, knees bent.
The opening Three-Body Stance of Form-Intention Fist.
Annie frowned faintly, studying his posture.
"You first, or me?"
No response.
"Then I'll start."
His stance lowered further, body coiled like a predator.
He burst forward.
A straight thrust punch shot toward Annie's abdomen.
She bent and parried with her left forearm, deflecting his fist while her right arm swung toward his face.
Lock did not retreat.
His left fist surged upward toward her chin.
"Drill."
Annie stepped back, leaning away. His fist barely grazed the tip of her nose.
His left hand opened into a palm and chopped downward.
"Split."
She flipped backward, creating space.
The palm struck empty air.
Lock surged forward again, right fist exploding outward.
"Burst."
Annie crossed her arms and blocked head-on.
Bang.
The impact forced her back several steps.
Lock reset his stance and smiled.
"You're trying too hard to grab me. I'm not interested in rolling around on the ground."
He was right.
Annie had intended to absorb and redirect the force to secure a lock on his neck or arms.
But his strike had been heavier than expected.
Taking the full impact risked more than injury.
She could not afford to expose anything unusual.
"…Why so quiet?" Lock tilted his head. "You're not crying, are you?"
He stepped closer and reached out to brush aside her bangs.
"Are you actually—"
In a flash, Annie hooked his left foot while seizing his arm and neck, slamming him hard into the sand.
"Easy, easy—"
"Hey—hey—I can't breathe."
They rolled across the ground in a tangle of limbs.
"Annie, I was wrong! I really was."
"What were you wrong about?"
"Let go first, and I'll tell you."
"You arrogant, narcissistic idiot. Who do you think you are? Is being a noble so impressive?"
Her voice was low against his ear.
Lock felt only the warmth of her breath.
"Annie—someone's coming."
She glanced up.
Krista stood frozen, hands over her mouth.
Ymir stood behind her, covering Krista's eyes.
Lock, still pinned beneath Annie, flushed slightly and smiled weakly.
"…Hello."
…
At the infirmary, with no doctors present, Ymir located two jars of ointment under Lock's guidance.
Lock initially believed he was fine.
Then he removed his shoe.
His left ankle was severely swollen.
He shot Annie a resentful look.
That last throw—
She had definitely used more strength than normal.
How, he did not know.
Ymir examined his ankle.
"Young Master, need help applying it?"
Lock glanced at Historia, who was carefully tending to Annie's arm.
"I'll wait for Krista."
Historia offered him an apologetic smile.
Like an angel.
"Hey."
Ymir grabbed Lock's chin and forced him to look forward.
"If you stare at Krista again, I'll dig those blue eyes out."
"Understood?"
Lock nodded immediately.
Afterward, at Ymir's insistence, he signed an IOU promising to grant her one request in the future, sealing it with a thumbprint.
"Don't worry," she said. "I won't make it difficult."
Lock had a vague idea what she might want.
He did not refuse.
…
They barely made it back in time for the next assessment: a five-kilometer weighted cross-country run.
"Is your leg alright?" Annie asked quietly.
"I've always been tough," Lock replied with unfounded confidence.
Keith Shadis sat astride his horse.
"Listen carefully! Instructors are stationed along the route. Anyone attempting shortcuts will be dismissed immediately."
"Protect the flags bearing your names. Climb to the summit, plant your flag, and return."
"If your flag is not on the peak—dismissed."
"If you are not back before dark—dismissed."
"Understood?"
"Understood!"
"Move!"
…
At sunset, Keith stood at the entrance, recording placements.
"First: Mikasa Ackerman."
"Second: Reiner Braun."
"Third: Bertholdt Hoover."
"Fourth: Sasha Blouse."
"Fifth: Eren Yeager."
"Sixth: Jean Kirschtein."
…
Reiner and Bertholdt stared anxiously down the road.
Ymir tried to comfort a worried Krista.
Eren and Jean argued about rankings.
Sasha eyed the mess hall.
Keith glanced at the fading sun.
"They're coming!"
Reiner and Bertholdt shouted simultaneously.
"It's them!"
"Five minutes left!" Keith barked.
At the end of the road, Annie appeared—supporting a limping Lock.
"Hurry!"
"Just a few more steps!"
Cadets gathered at the gate, shouting encouragement.
At the final moment, Annie shoved Lock forward.
He tumbled across the line.
She crossed immediately after.
"Time's up!"
Keith snapped his pocket watch shut and approached Lock, who lay sprawled on the ground.
"You're fortunate, Lock Leon. A few seconds later, and you would have been dismissed."
Lock glanced at Annie, bent over and breathing hard nearby.
He smiled faintly.
"I just… have good people skills."
---
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