Attack on Titan: Lost Man

Young man pursuing freedom, be careful on the road! I thought I would have a lot to say, but in the end I just said goodbye to Allen calmly and the youth I had been pursuing for ten years.

Alas, I don't know what to say. I am really grateful to those who are still supporting me, voting and commenting. Thank you very much! In terms of updates, life is not easy, so I will try my best!

Friends, this is so pretty! ! In winter, it is recommended that you buy a large mouse pad while sitting at your desk, so that you can type and watch dramas without getting cold~

The author is back for surgery I will update you after I recover😭😭

The giant is over, youth is over

AI is advancing too fast. The year before last, I could only assist in adjusting the outline, and I couldn't even read what I wrote. But now I have been racking my brains to write for three hours, and the quality is not as good as the three-minute adjustment of ChatGPT in the basic class. I am a little depressed. I don't know if it is necessary to keep writing 😵😭

The next update may not be until New Year's Day, so please wait a little longer (⊙ω⊙)

Good brother, you will keep writing, right?

To the best Ani and Xiqi

To be honest, the writing is okay. It is normal for giants to be cold. I hope I can stick to it. As long as I maintain this quality of writing, no matter how fast or slow I am, I personally will continue to pay attention.

I took the picture from the old Ford yesterday and changed the screen saver. Today I feel better every time I turn on my phone~~

Ahhh, update soon, I really like reading the author's Ani Tang ❤️

In view of the fact that the plot is about to enter the main line, we have set up a collection hall for supporting roles. Readers who have ideas can post them here, and I can join according to the plot. As the plot develops, some character types that may be used will be posted here. Everyone is welcome to actively contribute.

Attack was originally a very good comic and anime, but the original author had to go crazy and lost so many fans and all kinds of music. I can only rely on fandom

Ahhhhh, no more! ! It's so well written. After flipping through more than a dozen books, I finally found a good comic about Giant.

Sorry, when will the author update?

Another young man lost to reality.

I want to see the Shura field where Ani reveals his identity.

It's amazing. I've persisted for two years and collected it. I must support it.

What's going on? Finally back?

The Letter of the Goddess of the New World [Hans Christian Andersen] Our grandchildren's children—perhaps even the generation after this—will know the Goddess of the New World, but we do not know her. When did she appear? What does she look like? What will she sing? Whose heartstrings will she touch? To what height will she elevate her era? In such a busy era, why do we ask so many questions? In this day and age, poetry is almost redundant. It is well known that many of the poems written by our modern poets will only be written with charcoal on prison walls and read by a few curious people. Poetry must also participate in the struggle, at least in the partisan struggle, regardless of whether it sheds blood or ink. Many people may say that this is just one side of the story; poetry has not been forgotten in our time. No, there are still people who feel the need to read poetry in their free time. As long as they have this kind of mental anguish in their hearts, they will go to a bookstore and buy some of the most popular poems for four cents. Some people only like to read poems that cost nothing; others are only happy to read a few lines of poetry on a paper bag in the grocery store. It's a cheap way to read it—and in our busy times, cheap things can't go unconsidered. As long as we have something, someone wants it – and that's saying something! The poetry of the future, like the music of the future, is a question of the Don Quixote kind. To discuss it is as fruitless as discussing a trip to Uranus. Time is too short and too precious, we cannot spend it on fantasy. If we speak a little more intellectually, what is poetry? The expression of feelings and thoughts is nothing more than a shock to the nerves. All enthusiasm, pleasure, pain, and even bodily movements are, according to many scholars, nothing but the beating of nerves. Each of us is a stringed instrument. But who is playing these strings? Who makes them tremble and pulsate? The spirit—the imperceptible, divine spirit—expresses its movements and emotions through these strings. Other stringed instruments understand these movements and feelings; they respond with harmonious tones or powerful noises. Humanity moves forward with a full sense of freedom - as it has always been and as it will always be. Every century, every thousand years, shows its greatness in poetry. It was born at the end of an era, it strides forward, and it rules the new era that is coming. In our busy and noisy computer era, she - the goddess of the new century - has been born. We salute her! Let her one day hear or read between the lines of what we now call charcoal. The vibrations of her cradle started from the North Pole where explorers had been, and extended to the endless dark sky of Antarctica. We cannot hear this vibration because of the roar of machinery, the scream of locomotives, the explosion of stone mountains and the shattering of our shackled spirits. She was born in the big factory of our time. In this factory, the steam engine showed its power, and the "fleshless master" and his workers worked day and night. She has a woman's heart; a heart filled with great love, the flame of chastity and burning emotions. She acquired the radiance of reason; and this radiance contained in it all the colors that the prism could reflect; and these colors were constantly changing from century to century--becoming the most fashionable colors of the day. The wide swan feather coat made of fantasy is her appearance and strength. It is woven by science; "primordial power" gives it the properties of flight. In terms of her father's bloodline, she is a child of the people, with a healthy spirit and mind, a pair of serious eyes and a lip full of humor. Her mother was the daughter of a noble outlander; she was highly educated and showed traces of that flashy rococo style. The goddess of the new age inherits the blood and soul of both. On her cradle lay many beautiful birthday gifts. Nature's mysteries and their answers lay around her like candy. The diving bell conjures many beautiful ornaments from the deep sea. She was covered with a celestial map as a quilt; the map showed a calm ocean and countless small islands - each island was a world. The sun painted pictures for her; photography provided her with many playthings. Her nanny sang to her the praises of the "Sgaard" singers Eyvind and Ferduci, the troubadours, and the poetic talent of Heine in his youth. Her nurse had told her many things—many things. She knew many of the horrific stories of old great-grandmother Ida—stories in which the Curse flapped its bloody wings. She listened to the entire One Thousand and One Nights in less than a quarter of an hour. The goddess of the new century is still a child, but she has jumped out of the cradle. She has many desires, but she doesn't know what she wants. She still plays in her huge nursery, filled with precious works of art and rococo art. Here are Greek tragedies and Roman comedies carved in marble, and folk songs of various ethnic groups hang on the walls like dry plants. You only have to kiss them and they become fresh and fragrant again. She is surrounded by the timeless symphonies of Beethoven, Gluck and Mozart, the thoughts expressed through melodies by some of the great musicians. Her bookshelves contained books by writers who were immortal while they were alive; and there is room now for many works whose names we hear in the immortal telegraph, but which died with the telegraph. She read a lot of books, too many books, because she was born in our era. Of course, she would forget just as many books - the goddess knew how to forget them. She did not consider that her song, which, like the work of Moses, would be passed on from generation to generation, like the beautiful fable of the fox by Bideby. She didn't think about her mission and her spectacular future. She was still playing, and at the same time, the struggle between countries shook the world, and the notes of pens and cannons were mixed together-these notes were as difficult to decipher as the ancient writings of Northern Europe. She was wearing a Garibaldi hat, but she was reading Shakespeare's works, and suddenly she had this thought: "When I grow up, his plays can still be performed. As for Galderon, he is only worthy of lying in bed. In the tomb of his works, of course, there is an inscription praising him. "For Holberg, the goddess is a ecumenist: she binds him with the works of Molière, Platus and Aristophanes, but she only likes to read Molière. She had none of the impulse that kept the antelope from resting; but her soul longed for the joys of life, just as the antelope longed for the joys of the mountains. There was a quiet feeling in her heart. This feeling is very similar to the songs sung by the nomads in ancient Hebrew legends on the green grasslands in the quiet starry night. But her heart would be filled with excitement as she sang - more excited than the hearts of those brave warriors in the mountains of Thessaly in ancient Greece. What is her belief in Christianity? She learned all the mysteries of philosophy. The cosmic elements knocked out one of her baby teeth, but she has since grown a new set of teeth. She bit the fruit of knowledge in her cradle and bit it off, and she became wise. In this way, the "immortal light", as the most intelligent thought of mankind, shone before her. When will the new century of poetry emerge? When will the goddess be recognized? When will her voice be heard? She will ride a dragon - a locomotive - through tunnels and over bridges on a beautiful spring morning, arriving with a roar; or she will ride a spraying dolphin across the gentle and tough sea; or she will fly through space astride Montegolfie's giant bird Locke. She will hail humanity for the first time with her divine voice in the land where she fell. Where is this country? Did Columbus discover the New World - the land of the free? In this land, the natives have become the objects of hunting, and the Africans have become the cattle and horses of labor - from this land we hear "The Song of Hiawatha"⑾. On the other side of the world - on the Golden Island in the South Ocean? This is a topsy-turvy land - where our nights are days, where black swans sing among the mimosa bushes. In the country where the statue of Memnon is located? The statue made a sound, and still makes a sound, although we now do not understand the song of the desert sphinx. On the island full of coal mines? This is an island where Shakespeare has been the ruler since the Elizabethan Dynasty. In the land where Ticho Brahe was born? Ticho Brahe could not live in this land. In the fairy tale land of California? The metasequoia here holds its leaf clusters high and becomes the king of woods in the world. When will the star on the goddess' eyebrow light up? The star is a flower—on each of its petals are written the expressions of beauty in form, color, and fragrance of this century. "What are the plans of this new goddess?" Asked the wise statesman of our time. "What exactly does she want to do?" You might as well ask what she doesn't plan to do! She is not a ghost from a bygone era - she will not appear in this form. She will not create new drama from the beautiful things that have been used on the stage. Nor will she use lyric poetry as a curtain to cover up the shortcomings of dramatic structure! She flew away from us, just as she had stepped off Desbis's carriage onto the marble stage. She will not break the normal language of the world into pieces, and then combine these pieces into a music box that produces the tones of the "Dubado"⒂ contest. She would regard poetry not as aristocratic, and prose as plebeian—both things equal in tone, harmony, and power. She will not re-carve the ancient gods from the legendary wooden tablets of Iceland, because these gods are dead and our time has no emotion or connection with them. She will not put the plots of French novels into the hearts of her generation. She will not numb these people's nerves with some bland stories. She brings the elixir of life. The songs she sang in verse and prose were succinct, clear, and rich. The pulse of each people is but a letter in the script of human evolution. She mastered each letter with equal love, formed these letters into words, and wove these words into syllabic odes to praise her era. When will this era mature? For those of us who are left behind, we still need to wait for a while. For those who have already flown forward, it is right in front of them. China's Great Wall will soon collapse; Europe's trains will reach into Asia's insular culture - these two cultures will converge! Perhaps this waterfall will emit an echo that shakes the heavens and the earth: we modern old people will tremble in front of this huge sound, because we will hear the arrival of "Ranelok" - the demise of all ancient gods. We forget that past ages and races have to pass away; only minute microcosms of each age and race remain. Encapsulated in a capsule of words, these miniatures float like a lotus on the eternal river. They tell us that they are our flesh and blood, although they all have different attire. The epitome of the Jewish race is revealed in the Bible, and the epitome of the Greek race is revealed in the Iliad and the Odyssey. But what about our miniatures—? Please ask the goddess of the new century when you are in "Ranelok". In this time of "Ranelok", the new "Gemle" will emerge in glory and sanity. The power of steam and the pressure of modern times are levers. The "bloodless master" and his busy assistants - who resemble a powerful ruler of our time - are but servants, black slaves who decorate the halls. They brought treasures, laid tables, and prepared for a grand festival. On this day, with the innocence of a child, the enthusiasm of a girl, the calmness and wisdom of a housewife, the goddess hangs a beautiful lamp of poetry - it is the rich and fulfilling heart of mankind that emits the sacred flame. O goddess of poetry in the new century, we salute you! May our salute soar high into the sky and be heard by you, just as you can hear the song of thanksgiving of the earthworm - this earthworm is cut into several sections under the plowshare, because the new spring has arrived and the farmers are turning the soil among us earthworms. They destroyed us so that your blessing could fall on this new generation to come. Goddess of the new century, we salute you! -------------------------------------- ① Rococo is an artistic style popular in France in the 18th century, known for its opulence and luxury. ② "Skald" is an epic poem in ancient Iceland, and Eivind is a famous singer in ancient Northern Europe who sang this epic poem. ③Firdusi (940-1020) is a famous narrative poet in Persia. ④ This is a kind of poet who sang lyric poems in Germany in the 12th, 3rd and 4th centuries. ⑤Bidpai is a famous fable writer in ancient India. ⑥Garibaldi (1807-1882) was an Italian soldier and patriot in the 19th century. ⑦ Pedro Calderon De Iabarca (1600-1681) is a famous Spanish playwright. ⑧Titus Maccius Plautus (approximately 254 BC-184 BC) was a Roman playwright in the first century BC. ⑨Joseph Michael Montgorfier (1740-1810) is a French inventor. He experimented with hydrogen balloon flight in 1873. ⑩ Rok is a giant bird in African mythology. It can carry the elephant in its mouth to feed its chicks. One Thousand and One Nights contains stories about this bird. ⑾This is a masterpiece by the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882). ⑿This is a huge stone statue near Debs in ancient Egypt. According to legend, it emits music when it comes into contact with sunlight. ⒀ Refers to the UK because there are many coal mines in the UK. ⒁An ancient Greek playwright, said to be the founder of tragedy. ⒂This is a kind of lyric poet in Southern Europe; they mainly write heroic love stories. ⒃Ragnurok means "the end of the world" in Nordic fairy tales. On the eve of the "doomsday", the world will be hit by chaos and storms. The world will be reborn after the "apocalypse". ⒄Gimle is the "heaven" in Nordic mythology. Only the righteous can enter it and live forever.

I still can't figure out why Nabo from the tavern wants to save Ani, when you obviously don't have any friendship with him. There is no system to issue missions that require people to die if they don't save people.

Author, where are you😭😭