Rein should've guessed.
He'd imagined the cave's secrets countless times, but never this.
Tables, chairs, cabinets, a stove—even a bed.
A bachelor pad?
That was wild, but not shocking. What fried his brain and choked his breath was the size.
The chopsticks and knife in the kitchen had felt off. Now it clicked.
"Did a Titan live here?"
Not an Eldian offshoot—a Titan's home?
A Titan cooking, using furniture, sleeping in a bed—that screamed intelligence!
A wise Titan lived here!
"What the—?" His mind spun.
He plopped onto a stone stool, its chill seeping through.
"Which wise Titan?" He counted the Nine on his fingers but couldn't buy it.
Why not turn human? Staying Titan drained stamina.
And eating without shifting back?
The contradictions pointed one way.
"No way…" His scalp tingled. "Another smart Pure Titan like me?"
Only that made sense.
"The mad dog?"
Three years with it—it was sharper than most brainless Titans, but not this sharp.
Plus, the dust here—thick, decades old. If the dog lived here, it wouldn't be this neglected.
Someone else.
"I'm not the tenth wise Titan then. Wonder if they're still alive?"
Pure Titans could live forever, theoretically.
Another like him out there—creepy thought.
No time for that. He had to loot this place and bounce.
The red task bar overhead nagged—time was short.
The kitchen fire crackled, warm and cozy, like a family hearth in winter.
Flickering light danced on the stone walls, peeling back years.
Rein circled the room. No exits but the chimney—key needed.
Not much to search—no cabinets. No key, but he found lamp oil.
He grabbed a copper lamp from the ceiling—wick intact.
A splash of oil, and it blazed, lighting the room.
Brightness eased his rattled nerves.
Light was safety—etched in every Titan's DNA.
"So much oil…"
Enough to burn for years.
"I need a key, not oil!" He rummaged.
Dining area—just a stone table and stools, no hidden spots.
Bedroom—a comfy, seamless slab fused to the floor, no storage.
No bathroom—Titans don't need one.
One spot looked messy, promising.
A long desk, like a study table, with iron boxes nearby.
Dull but rust-free.
"Gotta be in here."
He popped one open.
Clang~
A familiar scent hit.
"This is—?" He pulled out… "A book?"
A book-loving Titan!
"Wow~" Rein mused. "A nerd Titan."
Sealed tight, the books were pristine, ink still fragrant.
The cover read: Complete Guide to Parabolic Equations.
"What the—?"
Handwritten, neat but clear.
Inside—dense formulas, brain-melting.
"Total nerd!"
More titles:
Ballistics and Free FallOn Math and PhysicsGuesses on Relativity
Twenty books, all handwritten—bored Titan scribbles. Some titles he couldn't pronounce.
Rein marveled.
Not his thing, though.
Next box—heavier, probably books.
Clang~
Ink whiff again.
Music's Effect on TitansDance and CombatSinging Folk Songs on the OverpassTake Me for a Ride, Old Driver36 Stone Carving Styles
"…" Rein groaned. "Art stuff."
This Titan was a renaissance giant—math, music, dance, carving, all sorted into boxes.
Another box—bigger, novels.
Titan Hero SagaMy Little Titan at HomeWall-Bound HeartMe and the Titan Next DoorOld Wang Fixes PipesDon't Get Off! Don't Get Off! Don't Get Off!Humanity's Fall
"This box is a must-read!" He gulped, stacking a few on the desk.
Three boxes, no key—but blind-box vibes were fun.
"Open 'em all!"
He dumped every box out, piling books.
One was extra pristine—important stuff.
Inside, a thick tome: Playing with Mud in a Cave.
"What the—?"
He flipped to the contents.
A whole book on mud play—crafts, techniques, styles, samples.
"Someone was that bored~" he thought.
Little did he know, this book would change his fate.