Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

Chapter 156 Emperor Mark from a Parallel World

In the underground base beneath Grayson's garage, the entire space was bathed in cold, white light. Dr. Earthquake was firmly restrained in a transparent medical pod, his limbs and neck bound by energy straps.

Locke stood in front of the control panel, his fingertips flying across the virtual screen as he performed a full-body scan on him with an expressionless face, not even bothering to glance at him.

"Humans are pests! Look at what you've done to the Earth! Pollution, war, endless plunder! I'm right! I can feel that we are the same kind of people! Let's work together to correct this mistake and purify this planet!"

The earthquake expert was screaming wildly inside the cabin, his spittle splattering onto the transparent walls.

Faced with his endless, fervent sermons, Locke finally sighed, rolled his eyes without looking up, and said, "Oh, right, right, humans are pests, humans are the cancer of the earth. It's only because I have a good temper that I'm like this. If it were the Emperor, a treacherous person like you wouldn't have survived more than two sentences."

"Emperor? You want to be an emperor?" The earthquake expert's eyes lit up, and he immediately replied, "No problem! As long as you destroy this corrupt system and repair the damage humanity has caused to the Earth, I'm willing to make you emperor!"

He was still eloquently describing his "purification blueprint" when Locke finished extracting the memories. He glanced briefly at the scrolling memory fragments on the screen, his tone still perfunctory: "Yes, yes, yes. But according to your plan, how many people will be left on Earth after the purification? I don't want to be a lone commander, at most a king of an island nation, treating the trivial matters of managing the village entrance as saving the country every day."

The earthquake doctor's roar came to an abrupt halt.

He froze, his fanaticism instantly turning to astonishment: "You—how did you know my plan? I've never told anyone!"

Locke finally looked up at him, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

"I scanned your brain and downloaded your soul data along the way." He pointed to the brain nerve damage map flashing on the screen, his tone as calm as stating a fact. "Every time you use your seismic wave bracelet, it causes irreversible damage to your brain. Coupled with the psychological trauma left by the government's persecution of your family back then, it has turned you into the paranoid person you are today."

To be honest, it's not entirely your fault. Given your tragic experiences, I can completely understand your feelings.

"How could you possibly—" The earthquake doctor's voice trembled.

Locke ignored him, looked back at the control panel, frowned slightly, and muttered to himself, "But this damn world has an absurdly high information transcription loss rate. It's nothing compared to Type-Moon. If I didn't have my special ability, I don't know how much more trouble it would have been."

As he spoke, Locke opened the flask and took a swig to maintain the alcohol concentration in his body to sustain the brief boost in thinking and reaction speed, while also reducing anxiety. Then, a system panel visible only to him flashed before his eyes.

[The Pioneer of Machinery - Gold]

[Passive: Mechanical Affinity +100%]

Passive: Intelligence +300%

[Skill: You possess the power to transform the mundane into the extraordinary when it comes to machinery; machines can fulfill their mission in your hands without requiring precise adjustments.]

[Skill: You possess the ability to analyze and reconstruct mechanical structures; cybernetic modifications will never cause you to lose control.]

After completely replacing all your physical body, you will become a true pioneer of mechanics.

[Note: Equipping the trait (Arcane Herald) simultaneously will create a set bonus, granting the new skill (God of Machines)]

【Set: 1/2】

Flesh and blood are weak, machines rise to the occasion; yet, even cold machines possess a warm heart.

You are more likely to be disliked by lawful and neutral factions, and more likely to be favored by chaotic factions.

With a beep, Locke shifted his attention from the system panel, where the console in front of him had already extracted what he wanted.

As he expected, the earthquake doctor in front of him had memories of another world. His and Mark's arrival caused a spacetime siphon effect between the two worlds, resulting in confusion in the earthquake doctor's memories due to the entanglement of different dimensions. Fortunately, this should only be an exception.

Having said that, Locke activated the surgical function of the medical pod. The medical pod, which had been placed at an angle, suddenly landed flat. Dr. Earthquake sensed something was wrong and shouted, "Wait! What are you doing! This isn't my fault! The government took away my research and turned it into a weapon, and even caused my family to die because of the weapon's development. Everything I did was perfectly reasonable!"

"Oh my god, can you just shut up for once and let me finish my work in peace? I know everyone is an individual, and I don't expect you to understand me, nor do I intend to understand you, so can't you just shut up?"

"You don't understand, I have my mission, I must—"

Locke, who had been relatively mild-mannered, suddenly interrupted Dr. Earthquake loudly, as if he had been angered by Dr. Earthquake's attitude.

"Stop spouting those idiotic lies about Mother Earth being harmed to cover up your own self-destructive behavior. You're just seeking revenge!"

"This planet beneath our feet has undergone countless biological cycles and hundreds of millions of years of geological activity. Organic and inorganic matter alike are merely insignificant cogs in the thermodynamic cycle of the universe. So what if Earth were gone? Your limited and narrow perspective simply cannot contain the infinite world!!!"

When his own great and lofty ideals were belittled to nothing by the man in front of him, Dr. Earthquake wanted to refute him but couldn't open his mouth no matter what. He then realized that perhaps his subconscious true thoughts were acknowledging what the other man said.

"Save your breath. You are indeed very smart, but your brain has been ruined by your own inventions. Every time you use the seismic wave bracelet, it causes irreversible damage to your prefrontal cortex and hippocampus, and may even kill your neurons. You are just a scientist, not a qualified inventor at all. You don't know how to avoid risks. This has made your fragile mind, which has been persecuted by the government, unable to withstand any more blows."

"So, the simplest psychological experiment: after receiving a huge psychological boost, will a person develop psychological defense mechanisms? What is the simplest defense mechanism? It's deception, it's not accepting the facts. In other words, you're essentially just a useless person who doesn't even understand themselves!!!"

After uttering his last curse, Locke took a large gulp of wine, the liquid sliding down his chin and into his collar. He seemed to have suddenly calmed down, casually tossing the flask onto the control panel and beginning to operate the collaborative robotic arm to make cuts. But he didn't stop talking; his voice was low as he muttered to himself, "You know what? I used to think that even if I couldn't rewrite everything at will, at least I could protect the people I cared about."

But this broken world, and countless other broken worlds, insist on going against me.

Under his control, the laser scalpel on the robotic arm turned into a cold light, precisely slicing open Dr. Seismic's scalp.

Without a tremor, without a drop of blood spilling, the movements were as fluid as a precision machine that had been running for millions of years.

"To this vast and nauseating spacetime, everything is nothing more than a grain of sand on the beach swept away by the sea breeze."

The wind never asks if the sand wants to leave, even if that single grain of sand can unleash a storm powerful enough to tear the wind apart.

His voice was filled with suppressed rage, yet his hands were terrifyingly steady. The bone saw hummed softly as it silently pried open the skull, revealing the crisscrossing grooves of the brain beneath, ignoring the screams coming from the earthquake doctor's ears.

"I have saved countless people and rewritten the fate of countless civilizations."

In the name of humanity, I planted flags throughout the galaxy and pushed the empire's territory to the edge of the universe.

But what's the point of all this?

He carefully separated a small piece of tissue from the cerebral cortex with tweezers and placed it into a cryopreservation box next to him, his movements as gentle as if he were handling a fragile treasure.

"I can kill, I can save, I can be indifferent to everything."

I can become anyone, I can live any way I want, but strip away all the masks, who exactly is Locke? Who is Locke Kent? Who is Tennyson?

The indicator light in the medical pod flashed softly, indicating that the surgery was complete. He looked down at his hands, and for the first time, his voice carried a barely perceptible hint of fatigue and confusion.

"At first I just wanted the freedom to say no, and now I can say no to anyone, to any being, to the entire universe."

But it seems I've lost the meaning of life.

I'm tired of playing roles.

He took off his gloves, casually tossed them into the trash can, looked at the earthquake doctor who had fallen into a deep sleep in the medical ward, and murmured to himself, as if he had found the answer.

"Kutane is right. I need family, I need an anchor that can pull me back to reality."

Otherwise, I'll eventually become the kind of monster I fear most—a real monster.

After saying that, Locke picked up the lining of Dr. Earthquake's tattered coat, intending to take him back, but his fingertips unexpectedly touched a cold, hard protrusion.

He paused for a moment, then reached out and ripped off a black bug the size of a fingernail, which was still faintly flashing red.

At that moment, he realized that he had been so focused on doing a full-body scan that he had included his clothes in the scan.

"Fuck!"

Meanwhile, in the office of the Director of the Global Defense Agency, Cissel leaned back in his leather chair, pressed the bug to his ear, and listened to every word Locke had just said.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, let out a long sigh, and his face was filled with despair.

It's astonishing how extraordinary none of Debbie's family members are; it seems that Debbie, an ordinary person, is the most extraordinary one.

Before he could figure out how to deal with Locke, a dark blue portal suddenly opened up in front of his desk without warning, and the cold spatial turbulence caused the documents on the desk to fly everywhere.

The next second, Locke, carrying the still unconscious Dr. Earthquake, stepped out of the door.

He still smelled faintly of disinfectant and blood, and his face was expressionless, as if he had just gone out to buy a cup of coffee.

He casually tossed the earthquake expert to the ground, making a dull thud.

"Come on, let's talk. I'm short on time, so let's get this over with quickly."

"So, there's no Grandpa Locke in your universe?"

"No, the grandfather I remember is Oliver, not Locke. I've never heard my mother mention having an adoptive father."

In another parallel world at dusk, fallen leaves covered the benches in Central Park.

Xiao Ma, who had been forced to stay behind by Lao Ma to wait for orders, was swinging his legs idly, tracing the insignia on the chest of the Invincible Young Hero's battle suit with his finger.

He really couldn't understand why his grandfather and Old Ma always treated him like a child who needed protection—even though he could fight, and even though he wanted to help.

Just as he was sighing for the nth time, a cold wind carrying the smell of blood suddenly swept by.

Xiao Ma suddenly looked up and saw a man floating in the sky not far away.

He looked more than ten years older than Old Ma, wearing a badly worn black combat uniform, covered by a fur coat stained with mud and scorch marks, and the edges of the black cloak on his back were torn.

He wore a black eye patch over his left eye, and on the half of his face that was exposed, a hideous burn scar stretched from his forehead to his jaw, as if it had been branded on by something.

The man clearly hadn't expected anyone to be there, and his eyes instantly turned icy cold. He pushed off with his feet, flying over like a cheetah, his right hand forming a knife-like shape as he pointed it at Xiao Ma's throat.

But the moment he saw the little horse's face clearly, his movements suddenly froze in mid-air.

The hand chopped at Xiao Ma's throat, less than a centimeter away, trembling slightly.

The man stared intently at Xiao Ma's face, which was exactly like his own but full of youthful spirit. The murderous intent in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by disbelief and astonishment, as well as a trace of wistfulness that he himself did not notice.

He slowly sheathed his knife, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping against stone: "Who are you? Who created this clone? Or are you my illegitimate child?"

Mark Grayson was so frightened by the sudden turn of events that his heart pounded. He swallowed hard and confessed honestly, "My name is Mark Grayson, and I come from another parallel world."

He paused, noticing the other person's shocked expression, and quickly added:

Not a clone! Not an illegitimate child! Truly, it's another you from a parallel universe!

The man stood there, silent for a long time.

"Parallel world."

These four words were like a thunderbolt, splitting open his heart that had been frozen for decades.

Since he was crowned Emperor Witrum, he had heard countless flattery, countless curses and insults, and countless dying cries, but never had any words made his blood boil like these four words.

The cold indifference and blood-soaked murderous intent emanating from One-Eyed Mark vanished instantly, as if washed away by the tide.

His tense shoulders relaxed slightly, and his single eye churned with unbelievable ecstasy, bitterness, and a hint of a humble longing that he himself was ashamed to admit.

He lived too long and was lonely for too long.

So long that he thought he had long since become a heartless war machine, so long that he thought the idea of ​​"another possibility" had long been buried in the ruins of Witrum along with the younger version of himself that he had killed with his own hands.

He took a deep breath, his voice still hoarse, but for the first time it carried warmth, even a slight, almost imperceptible tremor: "Sorry, I was too excited just now."

He raised his head and stared intently at Xiao Ma with his only remaining eye, his tone almost pleading: "Could you—talk to me about parallel worlds? Anything is fine."

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