Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

The next day, the Tech Knight's supercar was parked on the street, engine still running, humming softly. The silver-gray body was damp with morning mist, making it less conspicuous. He repeatedly pressed the redial button, but the receiver remained busy. Finally, frustrated, he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, opened the car door, and cursed, "Damn, that old bastard's definitely blacked out on drugs again."

His leather shoes made a dull thud on the old carpet in the hallway. When he turned the corner to the door of the legendary house, he stopped abruptly—the security door, which should have been carved and inlaid with gold, was half collapsed, as if it had been run over by something huge, hanging there limply.

The room was thick with acrid smoke, so thick it seemed impossible to disperse. Legend was slumped in the leather sofa, a cigar between his fingers, the red glow of the cigarette butt flickering in the shadows. Hearing the noise, he didn't even lift his eyelids, slowly exhaling a smoke ring into the air, which dissipated after a few moments.

"Fuck!" Tek Knight strode in, glancing at the mess in the living room. "Your house's been robbed?"

Legend finally lifted his eyelids, twitched the corners of his mouth, and smiled as if he hadn't woken up yet.

The smell of smoke mixed with alcohol wafted towards the Knight of the Tek: "Pretty much, robbed by a dead man and a pile of shit." He flicked his cigarette ash, which landed on his pants without him noticing, and spoke in a lazy tone, as if he were talking about someone else's business, "All my treasures were taken, my stock was all taken, even the bottle of whiskey that Brando gave me back then was drunk up by these bastards."

Knight Tyk was completely bewildered and had no idea what he was talking about.

Legend, however, had no intention of explaining. He turned his head, his eyes darkening, and his voice lowered: "Let me tell you the truth, if you don't want to die, don't go to that party today, and don't even think about tipping anyone off."

Tek Knight initially thought Legend was making some kind of cheesy joke and was about to tell him to stop acting when he met Legend's serious gaze, and his expression gradually became very solemn.

"What do you mean?" Tyk Knight's brows furrowed, his tone tense. "Everyone under Vought's wing, whether signed or not, all the superheroes they've partnered with, is going to this party today. Even Homelander is there. Could it be...?"

Legend let out a long sigh, shoved the cigar in his hand into the ashtray with such force that it was as if he were crushing some enemy, and even twisted it twice at the end—as if the butcher's stinking face was right in the ashtray.

"You know about the earthquake in Elmira, right?"

Knight Tyk nodded, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the seam of his trousers: "I know. My secretary just mentioned it to me a couple of days ago. Our family also invested in that place, but after the incident, Walter readily bought back all the shares, so I didn't pay much attention to it."

"If you had asked around, you would have known that it wasn't an earthquake at all." Legend's voice was low, trembling with a sense of gravity. "It was all caused by a single experimental subject."

"An experimental subject?" Tek Knight's pupils contracted, and his voice rose slightly. "That was a 6.3 magnitude earthquake! What kind of monster did they create?"

"I don't know." Legend shrugged, his tone full of frustration.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Knight Tyk took a half step forward, his tone full of disbelief.

"All I know is that this test subject was kept and studied by Walter for a year." Legend paused, his fingertips tapping loudly on the armrest of the sofa. "But after he escaped, instead of seeking revenge on Walter, he went into hiding. I only found out yesterday that it was that bastard Butcher who rescued him."

"The Butcher?" Knight Tyk paused, then realized, "The guy who killed Madeline?"

"None of that matters." Legend waved his hand to interrupt him, a hint of fear in his eyes. "The important thing is that they've joined forces. I don't know what kind of spell those two bastards have cast on Stan and Homelander, but now they're turning Vought into a slaughterhouse! They're digging their own graves!"

"Impossible!" Knight Tyk shook his head firmly. "Why would Stan and Homelander do this?"

"And even if we take a step back and assume that the test subject could defeat Homelander, Wot still has nearly two hundred superhumans!"

"Then I'll tell you, there's also a soldier boy."

"Wasn't he already dead?" Tek Knight's voice finally betrayed a hint of panic.

Upon hearing this, Legend suddenly laughed, a cold and strange laugh. He pointed to the smashed and empty display case on the wall and retorted, "Then who took my collection? Was it a ghost?"

Tek Knight looked in the direction he was pointing at the empty display case, and was instantly speechless. He finally realized—it was all real. No matter what madness Stan and Homelander were up to, something big was destined to happen to Walter today.

Just then, in the dead silence, Tek Knight's cell phone suddenly rang, its sharp ring breaking the oppressive stillness of the room.

The caller ID showed Ashley, his old flame; the two of them liked to do cosplay in their spare time.

"Feed?" Knight Tyk's voice was still a little strained.

"Are you going to that party?" Ashley's voice came through the receiver, with a slightly aggrieved nasal tone.

"Uh... something urgent has come up, so I probably won't be able to make it." Knight Tyk replied instinctively, his mind still in turmoil.

"Oh? That's perfect." Ashley sighed. "I just came to let you know that Homelander told you not to come. He kicked out all the non-superhumans, and even replaced the waiters with students from Godotkin University. I got kicked out too, and I'm feeling really down."

Upon hearing this, the Knight of the Tek couldn't hear anything more he said. His phone slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with a "thud." The screen was lit, but he didn't notice. He was just staring blankly at the Legend beside him.

Legend, on the other hand, became leisurely, humming a tuneless little tune he'd made up on the spot, slowly singing: "Today's ~water~, oh, will be a—huge coffin!"

——————————————————————————————————————————

Meanwhile, downstairs at the Water Tower.

After verifying the butcher's invitation, the security guard's eyes were fixed on the soldier boy behind him. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally couldn't hold back, his voice trembling slightly: "Your friend is... the soldier boy?"

The butcher smirked, remaining silent as he accepted the invitation, casually weighing it in his fingers. He then turned and gestured with his chin towards the soldier boy puffing on a cigarette beside him: "Let's go."

The soldier boy looked up and scanned the gleaming glass facade of the Water Tower, the gilded sign making his eyes dizzy. He let out a sneer, his tone full of mockery: "Looks like those bastards made a fortune after selling me off like trash back then."

"Absolutely." The butcher glanced at him, not stopping in his tracks. "Walt's current status is more prestigious than many arms dealers. In the end, it's all thanks to your genes."

The soldier boy frowned deeply, his face instantly darkening. He stubbed out his cigarette, his voice as cold and hard as iron: "What kind of son is that coward? I don't have such a weakling." He paused, his eyes flashing with malice as he looked at the butcher as a warning.

"But let me tell you, after I kill him, I must take his seed with me. I won't let anyone raise him into another spineless coward. I want to turn him into a real man, a real man."

Upon hearing this, the butcher paused abruptly for half a second, so quickly that it was almost imperceptible, before continuing on his way as if nothing had happened, without letting the soldier boy notice anything amiss.

However, from an angle the soldier boy couldn't see, his gaze upon the other's back instantly turned as cold as ice, and a hint of unprecedented ruthlessness silently crept up.

Meanwhile, the entire area above the 95th floor of the Water International Building has been completely transformed into a dazzling high-rise nightclub.

The deafening electronic music ripped the ceiling off, laser beams streaked through the throng of people, and the cloying scent of alcohol and perfume mingled with the faint, superhuman energy emanating from the superhumans, filling every inch of the space.

Men and women on the dance floor swayed wildly to the beat of the drums, no one caring how dazzling the city night view was outside the window. After all, this rooftop party was an exclusive feast prepared by Walter for his own people.

Amidst this bustling, lively atmosphere, the heavy alloy door was suddenly pushed open without warning by an unfamiliar figure.