Attack on Titan: Survival and Dedication - Male Reader

PART FIVE

It only took a couple of hours of waiting to see if there were more. Y/N's caution paid off. Four more came out from surrounding houses, all with crates in hand. The wooden boxes rattled with looted goods. Bottles, metal, and jewelry. Everything of value that wasn't nailed down.
The sheer weight of the goods had Y/N's heart pumping. He thought over a plan for a while now, and although it had changed he was confident in it working.
For now, he waited. A few of the men complained about being hungry. Another hour of waiting had them gathered around their wagon. They helped themselves to what they found and brought along. The smell of alcohol was strong but nowhere near overpowering the rotted corpses and vegetables left out.
Patience was a gamble. They would either finish up fast and be on their way, or stick around for a bit and hopefully gain a buzz. When they sat around with full bellies, it was the latter that came around.
Now or never. Y/N thought as he left the shadows, rifle in hand.
He considered tossing a bomb directly into their circle. The human traffickers were so tightly packed he knew it would shred some legs. He brushed off this idea after a moment of consideration. He needed at least one of them intact and the ensuing chaos would surely bring the Abnormal back.
Hugging the wall to his former hideout, Y/N came within just a few meters of the men. Their voices were as clear as day, their smell even clearer. Y/N's nose wrinkled at the stench of an unknown drink.
With his heart racing, he dashed around the corner. His heavy footfalls alerted the men but by then it was already too late.
Y/N's boot left the ground in a strong kick, knocking over one of the men and shattering a bottle they shared.
"Don't move." Y/N ordered, his gun raised. The group froze, their eyes wide and their teeth gritted. Despite the cold, dry weather, they began sweating bullets.
"You two." Y/N's gun left his rifle for but a moment. He reached back and yanked a length of rope from his pack and tossed it to them. "Tie the others up."
"Who the hell?" One of the men hissed. His eyes narrowed in malice. He got a good look at their assailant but found it hard to make out anything. He was big, a full-grown man. He was also covered in green, a color that made his heart drop.
Under the flap of Y/N's cloak, he spotted it, a patch on his unique coat. It was the white and blue Wings of Freedom.
Terror came over his eyes. He would surely be executed for what they had done. With that in mind, he looked to the corner of his eyes where his comrade blurred in his peripherals. He was thinking the same thing.
Y/N watched over them closely. After a couple of minutes, half the men were tied up, leaving two smaller ones and one brawny one. He didn't like the look in his eyes. Sweat glistened on his balding head and a sheen of grease covered his face. But the only thing of note was his hands. How they flexed open and closed into fists had the gun pointed his way.
"Scouts, huh?" The man attempted to make small talk. "I didn't think you were out this far."
"Shut up." Y/N ordered. He seemed calm but was beginning to feel anxious.
"Or... is it just you?" He caught the attention of the third man, making his throat shift with a dry swallow.
"I said shut it." Y/N emphasized his order with a step back and to the right, putting his friend in the crossfire.
"You even have any idea what you're doing?" He scoffed. "You don't even have ODM gear. You shoot and that thing'll come back."
"I'll be fine. It's your friends you should worry about."
His brows curled into a deep glare. Y/N was subtle about it but he caught on. Using live humans as Titan bait was unheard of, something unthinkable and cruel. However, this man, this figure wrapped in rustling grass, didn't seem to care.
"Are you even with the Scouts??" He growled.
"Yeah," His comrade piped up. "How do we know you didn't just steal that stuff?"
The second trafficker left the third's binds loose. It was just enough to pull your hand out of. Whatever they had planned Y/N saw it just as they saw something in their wagon.
"One more step forward and you're dead." Y/N threatened. The burly man stopped, scratching the stone road underneath.
"Come on." His voice lowered. "What? Did you just graduate? You don't have to shoot us. We'll just go. You can have the stuff."
"Tie up your friend." Y/N ignored him.
"Listen... no one's gotta die today." He began to lower his hands into a more calming gesture. Meanwhile, he slowly began shuffling right and his only comrade inched back to the wagon.
"You got to the count of three." Y/N began to brace himself. He leaned into his rifle and held it with just enough force that his hands didn't shake. With his footing corrected, he began to count. "One."
"Hey." The de facto leader's arms became taught with a hand held out. "Relax."
"Two."
"Come on!" He began to shout. "Let's be reasonable!"
"Just kill 'em already!" One of the tied-up men yelled.
He took another step and the last man readied himself. Y/N didn't know what it was he reached for so again he was faced with a gamble. It could've been a gun, a weapon of any sort, or if they were desperate enough - and god forbid - a flare gun.
It happened in a blink of an eye. The large man cleared the surrounding crates and put his friends out of harm's way. His legs pushed him in a lunge and his arms were stretched. He attempted to rattle Y/N's gun, spill its powder. While behind him his comrade reached deep into the wagon.
Y/N's arm flinched right and he pulled the trigger. Smoke erupted beside his face and the rifle coughed. A loud bang echoed over the village and a plume of smoke filled the air. The skinner trafficker fell dead, a hole punched clean through his spine.
A growl left the leader's lips as he came within arm's reach. His hands curled into fists, turning his knuckles white with a small ache. His palms met nothing but air and the smoke he charged into left him blind. He never saw the ultrahard steel glinting in the sun.
"You bastard!" Screamed one of the few men.
The burly man was cut down. He lay gurgling on the road, a mortal wound running widthwise over his stomach with his innards being stained with dirt.
Y/N frowned and his fists shook with adrenaline. He mentally cursed before ejecting the crimson blade. The blood was the last thing he wanted on him.
Ten. He began to mentally count. Within ten seconds he stowed his rifle and sprinted for a nearby horse. Their cries were warranted but they had no idea what they were called to.
He undid the tassels and led the horse to the others. The thought of leaving behind their loot was painful but was overshadowed by imminent death.
"You." Y/N yanked one of the smaller men to his feet. "Get on. And hurry."
The man was compliant. He figured he caught a lucky break, but unbeknownst to him he shared a fate arguably worse.
Y/N suddenly stilled himself. His ears began to ring in all the silence. He had time. Regrettably, he had to ride without a saddle.
Twenty. With his prisoner shoved forward and on his belly, he whipped the reins. The horse thundered forward, the heavy clack of its hooves pounding against the ground. It nearly drowned out a distant rumble.
"HEY, WAIT!" The man screamed. He was helpless as he watched his comrades writhing on the ground.
"Shut it!" Y/N shouted before his fist met the man's ribs.
They rode over the draw bridge and deep into the nearby plains. The rumble of a sprinting Titan closed in but soon screams washed over it.