Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

Above the 95th floor of the Water Tower, it was no longer a glamorous party venue, but had become a purgatory of out-of-control desires.

The deafening electronic music couldn't drown out the constant screams, and wherever the laser beams swept, there was only a horrific mess—rolled-up pieces of powdered paper, foil with residue, and flattened syringes scattered on the carpet.

In the shadows of the corridor, several couples were entangled together, oblivious to those around them. Hero's armor was torn to shreds, and bottles and trinkets were scattered all over the floor.

Next to the bar, two superpowered individuals were wrestling over the last small packet of "powder." One of them unleashed an energy shockwave that overturned the liquor cabinet, splashing broken glass and liquor all over the people around them. Instead of being stopped, this only led to an even more frenzied commotion.

Even more jarring was the entrance to the terrace, where three guys dressed in cheap superhero suits were bullying a young waiter.

One of them used the faint light from his fingertips to burn the waiter's arm, and as the waiter trembled in pain, the three of them laughed uproariously.

Another person stepped on the waiter's hand, forcing him to pick up a cigarette butt from the ground and stuff it into his mouth. The waiter's cries were completely drowned out by the music, but no "hero" stepped forward to stop it—instead, several onlookers took out their phones to take pictures, shouting "Be even harder."

The first golden boy from Godotkin University is standing out at this moment, wearing a well-fitting supervisor's uniform.

He had long been disillusioned with the empty titles of superheroes, and now he cared nothing for any glory. He had only one thought in his mind: to lead his classmates away from this filthy place.

He also does drugs, drinks heavily, and is suffocated by mental health issues, but even so, he is more like a "human being" than this group of beasts in the guise of heroes.

Before coming here today, he actually had some worthless expectations.

But when he actually witnessed these so-called superheroes mistaking their high-flying madness for coolness and their bullying of ordinary people for fun, the last bit of respect he had for the word "hero" shattered completely, leaving only a surge of disgust.

"Let them go!"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was firm and resonant.

A third-rate superhuman glanced at him sideways, sneered, and reached out to put his hand on his shoulder, his fingertips still stained with white powder.

Golden Boy loathed the touch of these people to the core. Almost instinctively, he activated his superpowers. The next second, his whole body burst into golden-red flames, and a wave of heat instantly swept out.

The screams of the superhuman almost lifted the roof off.

He let out a loud wail and started waving his red-hot hand wildly. His companion panicked and grabbed a glass of champagne from the table, splashing it on his hand.

The result can be imagined.

When alcohol meets an open flame, it bursts into an even larger fire, burning the man's hand even more badly, causing him to writhe in pain.

The commotion by the wine pool grew louder and louder, and the surrounding noise quieted down a bit as countless eyes turned toward them.

Only then did Jin Tong belatedly realize the trouble he had caused. The flames went out with a "whoosh," leaving only charred fragments of his uniform.

Ignoring his shame, he grabbed the jacket his companion had taken off and wrapped it around himself, clutching the hem tightly. He turned and rushed out of the crowd, wanting nothing more than to get his classmates away from this awful place as quickly as possible.

Their escape route was completely blocked by a tall figure.

Five-Oh leaned against the door frame of the fire escape, arms crossed, his eyes sweeping over Golden Boy and his flustered classmates behind him, a contemptuous smile playing on his lips.

"Godogin's top student, running away like this, all humiliated?" His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the surrounding noise, carrying the arrogance unique to veteran superhumans. "He was supposed to be a candidate for the Seven, yet he made such a mess of things. It's not just you who's losing face."

Jin Tong gripped the coat wrapped around his body, pulled the students behind him even closer to protect him, and gritted his teeth, saying, "Get out of the way, we don't want to cause trouble."

"Cause trouble?" Fifty scoffed, taking two steps forward. His gaze fell on the superhuman still rolling and groaning not far away. "You burned people, ruined Wot's party, and now you think you can just walk away saying you don't want trouble?" He stretched out his hand, his fingertip lightly pointing at Golden Boy. "I'm Fifty of the G-Men. By all accounts, you Godoyin brats should all call me senior."

Upon hearing this, the faces of the students behind Jin Tong turned even paler.

The G-Men's reputation carries immense weight in the superpowered community. They are a veteran team under Vought, second only to The Seven, and the person in front of them is their original leader. If we're really going to be serious, these college students are no match for them.

Wu Ling was clearly satisfied with the effect. He slowly moved his wrists, and his knuckles made a soft cracking sound. It was the intimidating power he had accumulated over the years in the battlefield and the arena of power, far more frightening than the brute force of the Earth Eagle.

"Listen, kid." He lowered his voice, the pressure in his tone suddenly intensifying, "Walter's party isn't a place you can come and go as you please. If this gets out of hand, it won't do anyone any good."

Your student status, your superpower qualifications, even whether you can survive in this industry in the future, all depend on my word.

He took a step forward, his heavy shadow instantly enveloping Jin Tong, the oppressive force in his voice almost tangible: "Now, take your men back, clean up the mess, and apologize to that person. That'll be the end of it. Otherwise…"

Before he finished speaking, a terrifying red light suddenly flashed in Wu Ling's eyes. The laser eyes behind his goggles were poised to strike, and a faint energy hum vibrated in the air, making even the surrounding noise seem to subside.

But this deterrent only lasted for half a second.

A dark shadow flashed by as fast as the wind, and with a crisp crack, a precise and ruthless chop struck Wu Ling's carotid artery in the neck. Wu Ling's body stiffened abruptly, the red light in his eyes dimmed instantly, and without even a groan, he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

The commotion by the wine pool seemed to have been paused. Everyone froze, mouths agape, their gazes fixed on the person who had suddenly appeared—a man dressed in a sharp black bodysuit, tall and imposing, his eyes and brows as cold as ice.

"Stop babbling on and on."

Locke clapped his hands as if he had merely brushed off some dust, making no unnecessary movements. He turned his head, glanced at the Golden Boy and his group who were still frozen in place, and spoke with obvious impatience.

"What are you standing there for? Daydreaming?"

Jin Tong and his classmates behind him exchanged a glance, all looking completely bewildered: "Huh?"

"I told you to get lost, can't you understand human language?"

These words jolted everyone awake like a thunderbolt. Jin Tong reacted the fastest, immediately grabbing his classmate and rushing towards the fire escape. As he passed Locke, he paused, lowered his voice, and quickly said, "Thank you."

Just then, the cold, ruthless look in Locke's eyes suddenly softened for a moment.

Because in the shadows unseen by others, he glimpsed something completely unexpected.

[Saving innocent passersby]

[Character compatibility +6%]

[Currently 51%]

[Character breakthrough has reached stage one]

[Popularity Point Acquisition Efficiency +20%]

[Popularity +100]

【128→228】

"Who the hell are you?"

Leng Bao took a sudden step forward, his voice sharp with icy coldness. He stared intently at Locke, his brows furrowed—he had gone through the "absolutely untouchable" blacklist circulating within the G-Men countless times in his mind, but he couldn't find a single face that matched the one in front of him.

Locke ignored his questioning and forcibly suppressed the strange feeling of the system suddenly malfunctioning in his mind.

He raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the group of men around him, dressed in gleaming battle armor but with ferocious faces, a hint of cold mockery creeping into his eyes.

Whether it's the heroes Wot signed or the nobody he collaborated with, he exposed their dirty secrets completely.

Background information, scandals, and even shady deals—nothing escaped his notice.

Which of these people's current madness and depravity could be separated from Walter's deliberate guidance and tacit approval? He knew all too well.

Some of them may have initially harbored some ridiculous dream of "becoming a hero," but under Walter's pervasive oppression and the coercion of sugar-coated bullets, they have long been worn down into monsters who have lost all humanity.

Locke twitched the corners of his mouth and smiled silently.

Is this the superhero they've been praising to the skies?

It's ridiculous.

Seeing that Locke remained silent for a long time, Leng Bao's patience was completely exhausted.

He growled and strode forward, reaching out to grab Locke's collar, the words of questioning already on his lips.

But before his hand could even touch Locke's clothes, a crisp cracking sound came from his wrist.

Leng Bao froze on the spot, the ferocity on his face instantly solidified, and was then replaced by excruciating pain.

He looked down at his wrist, which was bent at an odd ninety-degree angle. His brain went blank for half a second before he burst into a pig-like wail, collapsing to the ground and rolling around while clutching his wrist.

The people around were in an uproar. When they looked up again, Locke had vanished without a trace, as if he had never been there.

The next second, a muffled thud came from the DJ booth in the center of the party.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw Locke stepping on the back of the part-time DJ Hero. The unlucky guy had already been knocked unconscious and was lying on the mixer, unaware of anything.

Locke raised his hand and turned off the deafening electronic music, plunging the entire 95th floor into deathly silence.

He grabbed the microphone, rubbed his thumb against the microphone head, and glanced at the frozen superheroes in the room, his tone casual yet laced with biting mockery.

"Hey trash, look here—yes, right here, all of you, keep your heads up."

When all eyes were fixed on him, Locke suddenly lost interest in the whole speech he had prepared. He clicked his tongue, too lazy to beat around the bush, and went straight to the point:

"Alright, enough with the nonsense, I'll just tell you one thing."

The moment the words left his mouth, a piercing alarm suddenly blared throughout the entire floor.

Clang—Clang—

The heavy alloy door crashed down from the ceiling, blocking all escape routes; the emergency lights instantly switched to a blinding red light, sweeping across terrified faces.

Locke, witnessing this scene, could no longer contain the surging excitement within him. He raised the microphone, threw his head back, and let out a maniacal laugh, the sound echoing through the speakers to every corner, carrying a destructive madness:

"Heroes, listen up! Today, either you kill me, or I'll take you one by one, one by one—"

"Slaughter them all!!!"