Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

Elmila Adult Rehabilitation Centre is a unique medical institution with a history dating back to the 1960s.

Logically speaking, a rehabilitation center that has existed for decades and undergone a major renovation around the year 2000 must have something unique about it, and may even enjoy a certain reputation.

But the Elmira Adult Rehabilitation Center is different. Very few people know about it, and it never admits patients. It is located in a remote and extremely secretive area.

The reason for all of this stems from the group to which the Elmira Rehabilitation Center belongs.

Its name is Water International.

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"Mr. Cypher, there's been another change in 0165."

In the underground of the Elmira Rehabilitation Center, a superhuman prison ostensibly for "behavioral correction" but actually for "imprisonment research," the actual controller of the rehabilitation center, known as Cypher, stopped what he was doing the moment he heard his deputy's words.

"Oh? What's different this time?"

"He became... an old man who looked very intimidating, with incredibly strong muscles, like... an aged but still terrifying lion king."

"interesting……"

The most valuable test subject has undergone new changes. Cypher instantly lost interest in the new test subject, hastily wrote "Control" in the medical order column, and then got up and left the office.

"Come on, let's go see our baby."

Honey, it's quite unbelievable that these two words came out of Cypher's mouth. My second-in-command has been with Cypher for so many years, and he feels like the other man is a machine that can speak human language.

Cold and ruthless, precise and efficient, he speaks in a flat tone without any inflection, has no hobbies or private life, and even eats by juicing his food. People who don't know him might think he has some kind of disease that allows him to only eat liquid food.

But recently, there have finally been no people who can convince this machine-like person that he is not a robot in human skin.

And everything is related to the superhuman that Vought recently captured.

Number 0165, Locke Kent.

The air on the newly built 12th underground floor was so cold it felt like it had been quenched in ice. The deputy couldn't help but rub his hands together, while Cypher walked forward as if nothing was wrong. Every step he took on the alloy floor made a dull echo, which was amplified by the airtight vanadium-titanium alloy walls around him, making the atmosphere even more oppressive.

The deputy followed closely behind, deliberately keeping his breathing soft, his hands close to his sides, taking small, quick steps to keep up with Cypher, and surveying the surrounding facilities.

Signal shielding, biometrics, embedded cameras with multispectral scanning, liquid metal, special layers, and walls smooth to the millimeter level.

The total cost of these items was almost equivalent to four months of profits for the Vought Group, but it was clear that both Cypher and Stan felt the money was well spent.

Because they firmly believe that they have found the most precious gift God has given to mankind, and that as long as they can unlock the secrets of 0165, they can truly grasp the authority that belongs exclusively to God.

To steal that supreme power.

A deep hydraulic sound came from inside the wall, and the sound of the hydraulic alloy door opening grew louder and louder, making the floor underfoot tingle slightly.

The 1.5-meter-thick alloy door slowly opened inwards. The airflow brought by the door's movement, carrying the cold, hard feel of metal, rushed in, while also briefly granting this unfortunate man, who had been tightly imprisoned, a breath of free air.

A "lucky guy" who has never been injected with Compound V but has superpowers, a natural-born superhuman.

A strong stench of blood wafted from the doorway, and what came into view was a ground littered with corpses. The deputy's mind seemed to short-circuit, with only one possibility remaining in his head.

0165...They escaped?

In an instant, countless terrifying possibilities flashed through his mind, and the shadow of death enveloped him.

This is an original superhuman even more precious than Homelander. Vought has poured so many resources into locking him up here, wanting to thoroughly study and understand the secrets within him.

If he escapes from their clutches, even if he survives by sheer luck, Walter will never let him go.

But when they saw the scene inside the secret room, they breathed a sigh of relief; 0165 had not escaped.

The top-of-the-line custom-made super alloy prisoner suit was tightly wrapped around his entire body. Several chains hung from the ceiling and were locked tightly to his shoulders and back. Key joints such as his shoulders, neck, waist and hips were precisely locked. Every inch of the prisoner suit was designed for brute force breakthroughs. It was so heavy that he didn't even have the strength to lift his head slightly.

Even more bizarre is the room itself. The walls, ceiling, and floor are all embedded with miniature omnidirectional light sources. The light intensity is weak but extremely uniform, with no directionality of any single light source. The walls and floor are coated with a high-diffuse-reflection coating, which can scatter light without any blind spots, filling every inch of the space with light, and leaving no dark corners that are not illuminated.

In other words, this is a secret room where not even a shadow exists; it is a completely inhumane design.

If a person is in such an environment for a long time, the feelings of loneliness and helplessness in psychology will be amplified infinitely, eventually leading to irreversible mental breakdown.

But all of this was irrelevant to Locke. He was blind, and a custom-made helmet had completely shut down his five senses, making him a "living thing" without touch, hearing, sight, smell, or taste.

Cypher stood below, looking up at "0165," or Locke, who was hanging in mid-air, his eyes filled with undisguised disappointment and regret.

A crack appeared in the tattered helmet, revealing Locke's Asian face, which was nothing like the old man his second-in-command had described.

He glanced at the corpses scattered on the ground, all bearing open mechanical injuries and burns, then looked at Locke, who had regained his original personality, and said coldly, "Your new personality seems to possess energy manipulation abilities. Moreover, you didn't crush your own limbs due to the change in form, and you even twisted and deformed the alloy specially developed for you."

"Yes, it's a pity you didn't get to see my new form, otherwise you would be dead."

"I'm not surprised by this, but let's get down to business."

Cypher was already used to Locke's oral gymnastics. He glanced at his deputy, signaling him to record the report, and then began his routine questioning.

"Come on, Locke, tell me when you woke up this time. We need to study your abilities carefully."

"Study your ************ my *********!"

Locke remained unhurried and uncooperative, even launching a barrage of telegrams at Cypher. Centered on Cypher's parents and relatives, he perfectly showcased the art of language in prison, earning him the title of a young Shakespeare of the new era.

Cypher was already immune to Locke's daily oral exercises. Locke, still feeling unsatisfied after cursing until his mouth was dry, simply spat a mouthful of murky liquid at Cypher.

However, with his eyes firmly sealed, Locke, unable to see his target, naturally failed to touch Cypher at all.

"Remember this, no matter who you are or what you and Walter are planning."

After a brief pause, Locke, looking up at Cypher, said through gritted teeth, each word distinct and forceful:

"One day, I will make you experience firsthand what true hell is! You will pay a thousandfold, a hundredfold, for everything you have done to me!"

The murderous intent in his voice was almost tangible, like the biting cold wind of Seattle, stinging your skin.

The deputy standing to the side was already pale with fright, but Cypher's face remained completely calm.

"Your struggles are pointless and will only strengthen our resolve to get rid of you. After all, our investment in you has already dragged down Water's financial statements this year, and the shareholders have long had complaints."

Having said that, his tone softened slightly, and he turned to offer advice:

"The research we've invested in you hasn't yielded matching results at all. If you continue to refuse to cooperate or even threaten us, you'll just be treated as a top-tier, ineffective asset with zero return and will be destroyed directly."

"At that time, I will lose most of my power and resources, Stan's decades-long prestige will completely collapse, and his position will be in jeopardy. As for you, you will lose your life directly, and the world will be missing a unique book."

"You need to understand, Stan is a businessman. He won't go easy on you because of sunk costs. Once he's sure you're no longer of value, he'll get rid of you without hesitation—but I'm different."

As he spoke, he became more and more agitated. Cipher disregarded his own safety and walked up to Locke, reaching out to lift the alloy blindfold that was covering his vision.

Locke's pupils, which had been deprived of light for a long time, contracted rapidly and uncontrollably. It took him a long time to see the true face of his enemy.

A face so ordinary that it has almost no distinguishing features.

"You have no idea how precious you are, but I do! We're not imprisoning you, we're protecting you! You're the only naturally born superhuman, with not a trace of Compound 5 in your body. You are the benchmark of human evolution, a product of nature's selection!"

As he spoke, Cypher's expression grew increasingly fervent. He gently cupped Locke's face as if he were holding the most precious treasure in the world.

"You are different from those inferior goods outside. No matter how many people from our motherland there are, they are not as precious as you. If you are willing, you will be the god of the new generation. If you are willing, I am willing to give everything."

"You want freedom? You want compensation? Money, power, women—we're willing to give you everything if you cooperate. You've been imprisoned for a year; you must be longing for freedom."

At this, Locke felt a momentary sense of relief; he had indeed had enough of being imprisoned here.

Endless experiments, a body unable to move, no one to confide in, forever trapped in darkness, unaware of the passage of time. If Cypher hadn't brought it up today, he would have had no idea he'd been trapped for a whole year.

Cipher keenly caught the fleeting wavering on Locke's face and immediately seized the opportunity, continuing to persuade him with an even more urgent tone:

"You want revenge? You want to get back at me? Fine, I have no objection. As long as you're willing to cooperate, this life is yours."

Before Locke could recover from this unexpected concession, Cypher suddenly pulled a gleaming folding knife from his pocket and, without hesitation, slashed open the artery in his wrist.

Blood gushed out instantly, dripping down his wrist and onto the ground, quickly forming a small pool of dark red. Cypher, however, seemed completely oblivious to the pain, raising his bleeding hand expressionlessly and bringing it close to Locke's eyes, deliberately making it clearer for him.

A ruptured wrist artery, if the bleeding isn't stopped in time, will lead to shock from excessive blood loss within ten minutes, endangering life. Cypher clearly understood this. He stared into Locke's eyes, his voice hoarse but carrying an undeniable pressure: "I don't have much time left, at most ten minutes. Before I bleed to death, you must make a choice."

"Either you stay trapped here after I die, enduring experiments, darkness, and loneliness day after day until one day you are disposed of as useless trash, or you become one of us—you can do whatever you want, and we will do everything in our power to personally elevate you to godhood."

After saying that, Cypher seemed even more agitated, his eyes bloodshot, as if it was he, not Locke, who had been imprisoned and experimented on inhumanely.

"Hell or Heaven?"

If it were the first month of his imprisonment, let alone such favorable conditions, even just being able to see the light of day again and escape this dark and hopeless prison would be something he would gladly pay any price for.

If it were six months ago, before his obsession with freedom had been worn down by the daily experiments and loneliness, he would have agreed to such a promise without a second thought. Moreover, what Cypher is offering now is almost an unlimited indulgence.

Three months ago, if he could catch a glimpse of light, breathe fresh air that wasn't filtered, and eat normal, non-nauseating liquid food, he would have been willing to cooperate with their experiment.

But now, he won't. Having lost true freedom, he finally understands what freedom is worth defending with everything.

He will take back what he has lost, little by little, on his own.

The light stung his eyes, causing tears to well up uncontrollably. Yet, he forced a relieved yet resolute smile, gazing at the still-bleeding Cypher before him, and uttered, clearly and firmly, one word at a time:

"NO"