Erwin was no better at holding himself up than Levi. It took him quite some effort to keep those quiet chuckles down his throat and not letting them out of his chest.
Nobody on the barge really liked Nile Dawk. Even for him, whatever warmth and camaraderie he might have felt towards Nile back in the Recruit Corps had long worn out after all the years.
It was not jealousy. Erwin was one of the top graduates of their recruit class and was well-qualified to join the Military Police. In fact, he did not even need to make it to top ten if he wanted to join. Born into one of the lower class noble families, he was still a noble by birth and could enjoy the privilege of joining the Military Police right on the spot at any time without going through the merit-based system, no matter how little fortune he would be able to inherit from his father's meager estate, as the middle of five sons.
It was his own choice to join the Scout Legion, to make a difference in his own life and in the life of the human kind. It was his decision and his belief. A belief that he held onto as adamantly as he could even after witnessing all the deaths and unnecessary sacrifices outside the Walls, and all the corruption and selfishness inside.
Maybe that was the reason that his Commander wanted to teach him a lesson and put him in charge of the group in front of him-a motley of die-hard criminals, incorrigible crime lords, down-under-luck noblings, and the girl.
The girl who was now bowing to her uproaring audience as she wrapped up her little one and half person improvised mime show with feigned grace and haughty air. She put a finger on her lips, shushing up her semi-reluctant partner in crime who was trying to talk to her and getting hold of her attention.
She also tried to accomplish the same with her audience, which just made them laughing even harder.
Shrugging her shoulder and raising her hands up as if she had given up, she pushed through the crowd sitting on the barge, walked up to the rail on the other side, knelt down and started to knock at the hull of the barge.
Knock, knock, pause, knock, pause, knock, knock, pause… Even with all the buzzing around the dock, the knocks and its unique rhythms still seemed to be very distinctive, vibrating through the mist, spreading loud and far.
As if in response to the knocking, a dim light moved slow but steadily out of the mist on the canal and towards the barge.