Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

Chapter 208 Newcomer Arrives, Welcoming the Dragon Duke

"So, you're planning to use the Ling Cage world as a vacation spot now?"

In Baozhilin, the main god Locke lay comfortably on the bed, enjoying a massage from Huang Feng, "Master Fang". This time, he not only made back all the popularity points he had lost, but also got a full 70,000 reward points and acquired a lot of good goods. He is now enjoying emperor-level treatment.

"Ah! That's it, right there, push harder, oh~ that feels so good~"

Master Huang Feng, wearing a white coat, looked disgusted as if he had heard something dirty, but when he thought about how he had given him a different root instrument, he complied.

He wanted to yell at them, but the other party had given him far too much.

Locke, one of the men: "Sir, is the pressure just right?"

The Supreme God Locke: "Little Yellow, put in a little more effort, you haven't eaten yet!"

Type-Moon Locke: "That's enough, didn't you see its face turned black?"

While taking a medicinal bath, Type-Moon Locke stopped the overly ambitious God Locke, looked up at God Locke, and asked, "You still haven't answered me. Are you planning to use Ling Cage as your base or just a vacation spot?"

After pondering for a moment, the chief god Locke honestly replied, "To be honest, I haven't thought it through yet. I'm different from them and can't return to reality. I can only change the time in the story world. Moreover, I have a new privilege now that I can exchange for each world interval for free. It would be a waste not to exchange for it. I might as well help them restore their ecology and rebuild their civilization."

Locke, the invincible young hero who was shirtless and getting cupping done, chimed in: "If you ask me, you shouldn't get involved in their civilization reconstruction. We are best at initiating problems and solving them, not solving them. Especially in the reconstruction of civilization, you could easily become the next Lord of Light and Shadow. Right now, they are even threatening to kill the Lord of Light and Shadow. They even burned Charles to death."

Type-Moon Locke: "Indeed, this is quite troublesome."

God Locke: "We'll see when the time comes, but I'm still quite interested in the next team battle. I don't know which world I'll go back to to farm points this time."

Locke, one of the members: "Speaking of which, it's been a while since we've had any new recruits?"

Before the words were finished, everyone's hands stopped moving, and a black hole appeared out of thin air in front of them, from which a black humanoid figure, burned beyond recognition, was spat out.

The moment the other appeared, the Lockes reacted immediately and appeared around the newcomer, sharing their power to heal his injured soul and saving him from the brink of death.

When his missing arms and eyes were restored, the newcomer suddenly opened his eyes, and the burning pain, endless torment, and all his other life experiences so far exploded in his mind like a tsunami.

He was like a drowning person pulled from the deep sea, his chest heaving violently, convulsing as he reached out, trying to grasp anything that could keep him alive, clinging to that elusive lifeline.

The next second, a hand firmly grabbed him, pulling him back from the brink of drowning. He looked up, trembling, and saw people with the same faces as him surrounding him. Their hands were stacked on top of his, like countless rivers from the same source, finally converging into the same sea at this moment.

Having received the newcomer's memories, Type-Moon Locke suppressed his anger and gently comforted him, "It's alright, it's all in the past, all your suffering is over."

This sentence was like a key, instantly unlocking all the floodgates of his emotions.

Hot tears streamed down his face, a mixture of pent-up resentment and overwhelming anger. He gripped Locke's hand tightly, his throat feeling as if it had been repeatedly rubbed with sandpaper, squeezing out a broken, hoarse roar: "Power, give me power!"

Type-Moon Locke raised his head, looked at the other versions of himself present, and finally smiled at the newcomers, entrusting them with all their popularity points.

"This is what we've been doing all along. Take it, let the world bleed."

The next second, Locke was transported back to the world before his death, back to that hellish world.

That world belongs to dragons.

The First Sun Age, the Eastern Continent.

The scorching smell of sulfur mixed with mineral dust filled the air. Countless naked human slaves knelt on the cracked earth, their knees worn raw and scabbed over, their eyes as empty as dry wells, numbly enduring it all.

Among these soulless ants, a child who looked no more than six or seven years old, biting his chapped and bleeding lips, endured the scorching sun and the dust, and with all his might, slowly lifted his heavy little head.

His gaze pierced through the densely packed backs and landed on the unreachable sky that forever belonged only to the dragons.

Beneath the sky, bronze pillars engraved with dragon patterns rose from the ground, piercing the clouds. Dragons from all directions of the continent circled and descended around the pillars, strictly searching for their places according to the hierarchy of their bloodlines.

After taking their seats, all the dragons stood proudly without making a sound, simply waiting quietly for this unprecedented execution.

A pure curiosity flashed in the child's eyes, which were not yet completely filled with numbness.

He had never seen so many noble dragons in his life, nor had he ever been allowed to stop what he was doing and kneel quietly like this.

He didn't understand why so many dragons were gathered together, and why they would show such mercy and allow them to...

These lowly slaves do nothing but stay here and "rest".

He only vaguely remembered that yesterday the noble half-dragon had told them that he would let these lowly creatures see with their own eyes what the price of resistance really was.

But the question is, what is resistance?

Suddenly, a massive, dark shadow, large enough to block out the sunlight, enveloped the entire group of slaves without warning.

As the gale descended, the second-generation dragon, covered in black scales, swooped down like a hawk, easily piercing the bodies of more than a dozen slaves with its claws, grabbing them in its palm like a handful of straw, and then soaring away.

Those slaves who were lucky enough not to be captured remained kneeling, like weathered stones, as if nothing had happened.

At the very center of the bronze pillars stood a living volcano, reshaped by the alchemy of the dragon race. On the stone platform atop the crater, Locke lay quietly, his body riddled with deep, bone-revealing wounds, congealed black blood and volcanic ash mingling and covering his form.

The scorching heat of the magma emanating from the thick basalt platform was continuously transmitted upwards, like a slow cooker, slowly simmering his battered body.

The hybrid's superhuman resilience became the cruelest torment, preventing him from dying a quick death and forcing him to consciously endure the excruciating pain of every inch of his skin being burned and every bone being cracked.

But Locke didn't care at all.

These pains were nothing compared to watching his comrades die one by one and seeing everything he had fought so hard to protect vanish.

He just hates.

He hated that he didn't have enough power, and he hated that in this world absolutely ruled by dragons, even surviving was a luxury.

As the roar inside the volcano grew louder, crimson lava began to slowly spread along the rock walls, making the stone platform increasingly hot.

Locke's consciousness gradually blurred, and past scenes flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.

He had already done enough. By relying on his lowly status and cooperating with the White King, he obtained the power of the dragons and almost persuaded the four kings to betray Nidhogg.

But in the face of absolute power, the struggle of an individual is as insignificant as dust. Even if he is a transmigrator from another world, he cannot resist fate.

In fact, he could pray to the Dragon Kings for power by knowing his future destiny, and be freed from the suffering of forced labor, so that he could live to old age and die in this world where the average lifespan is twenty years old.

But he couldn't bear the thought of being killed simply because he was too painful to work.

He could not bear the thought of being eaten simply because he was hungry, nor could he bear the thought of being executed for dissent.

He couldn't stand it.

I cannot tolerate this world where humans are treated as talking tools and moving food.

The crimson lava finally overflowed the edge of the stone platform, and the scalding hot lava coiled around Locke's ankles like venomous snakes. A searing pain instantly engulfed his entire body; even his powerful hybrid physique began to rapidly carbonize under the thousands of degrees of heat. The shadow of death finally loomed over him completely.

In the final moments before his consciousness faded, Locke mustered the last of his strength and suddenly opened his bloodshot left eye.

He gazed at the dark, sunless sky obscured by countless dragons, and clearly caught sight of that beam rising from above the clouds.

A cold and mocking gaze.

That was Nidhogg's gaze.

The ruler and sovereign of that world was now looking down at him with great interest, wanting to witness firsthand how this ant who dared to raise the flag of rebellion against the dragon race would be reduced to ashes in the flames.

The next second, the emotion called anger erupted like a volcano, engulfing all the pain and despair.

Locke, clinging to his last breath, his chest heaving violently, mustered all his remaining strength to let out a heart-wrenching roar towards the sky: "Nidhogg!!!"

"Fuck you!!!"

In an instant, the whole world seemed to be muted.

All the dragons watching the execution on the bronze pillar froze simultaneously.

For the first time, genuine, bone-deep fear appeared in their vertical pupils; their massive bodies trembled uncontrollably, and they dared not even flap their wings.

The only sounds in the world were the gurgling of volcanic lava and Locke's lingering voice, filled with endless hatred.

Only one second had passed.

The overwhelming rage from the world's rulers swept in like a tsunami.

The sky was suddenly dyed a deathly purplish-black, and billions of bolts of lightning surged through the clouds like wildly dancing silver snakes.

A cataclysmic lightning bolt, powerful enough to instantly annihilate dozens of next-generation species, carrying the Black King's earth-shattering rage, crashed down from the heavens and struck precisely at the top of the active volcano.

The blinding white light engulfed everything.

When the storm subsided and the dragons sensed the waning of His Majesty Nidhogg's anger, they dared to raise their heads and look at him with puzzled expressions.

A volcano that has been torn apart.

They were puzzled as to how audacious that human was to dare insult His Majesty Nidhogg.

At the pinnacle of the Western Continent, Nidhogg, who was monitoring the execution with alchemical artifacts, still kept his gaze fixed on the ruins before him, quietly pondering.

It was considering how to deal with these traitors and prevent the resurgence of the rebels.

However, Nidhogg did not expect that in the volcanic ruins that had been completely melted into a glassy state by lightning, a hand covered in lava ash suddenly stretched out from under the solidified lava shell.

Locke, who had come back from the dead, gripped the scorching hot glass floor with his five fingers and pulled his body out of the ruins.

Locke's long, purplish-black hair fluttered in the wind, a pair of spiraling coral dragon horns sprouted from his forehead, and his body was covered with dense, purplish-gold dragon scales.

And those eyes were even more crimson and colder than before.

Locke, who had crawled back from hell, slowly raised his head, his gaze piercing through thousands of miles, and precisely locked onto Nidhogg.

"Nidhogg!"

This shout, filled with a hatred that seemed to burn everything, resounded throughout the entire Eastern Continent.

The next moment, an emotion called fear appeared for the first time in the heart of this black emperor who had lived for hundreds of millions of years.

The ant that should have turned to ashes instead rose up like a rocket, leaving behind a purple-gold trail that stretched for thousands of meters.

A powerful dragon-shaped aura swirled and roared around him, transforming into a phantom that blotted out the sky and traveled thousands of miles to rush straight towards the Black King.

"I'll come—"

"kill!!!"

"Lu Mingfei!"

"you!!!"

"Lu Mingfei!!"

"Yes!!!"

"Lu Mingfei!!!"

His aunt's shrewish roar pulled Lu Mingfei from his nightmare. He sat bolt upright in bed and realized that, without him noticing, his back was soaked with cold sweat from his newly bought pajamas.

Those purple-gold eyes, filled with overwhelming killing intent, gradually disappeared from his sight. Only then did he realize that it was all just a dream.

The morning sunlight slanted in through the old iron-barred window, casting dappled shadows on his still bewildered face. The old-fashioned fan by the bed had fallen over at some point, leaving the room in a mess.

Before Lu Mingfei could recover, his aunt, who had completely lost her patience, kicked open the door. Seeing Lu Mingfei still standing on the bed, she was instantly furious: "Are you trying to kill me?! I usually turn a blind eye to you sleeping in, but don't you know what day it is today?"

Last night at dinner, I told you eight hundred times to get up early. I got up at five this morning to chop filling and knead dough, and I've been busy all morning cleaning up. I've called you eight times already, are you deaf? And you still dare to stay in bed! I guess you've grown wings and I can't control you anymore!

His aunt's scolding came down like a barrage of bullets, giving Lu Mingfei no chance to react.

Uncle stood at the door with a toothbrush in his mouth, white toothpaste foam hanging from the corner of his mouth, looking at him helplessly. Lu Mingze, holding a bowl of porridge, poked his head out and shook his head at Lu Mingfei, the meaning of which couldn't be clearer.

Bless yourself.

"I think it's all your great-grandfather's fault for spoiling you. He's so indulgent that you expect everything to be done for you, and you have absolutely no manners! What girl would be blind enough to marry a lazy bum like you! I don't even need to think about it; you were up late playing games again last night, weren't you? Can those stupid games feed you? Does electricity cost nothing?!"

After auntie kicked Lu Mingfei off the bed, she didn't stop wiping the rag in her hand. While wiping the greasy dining table, she continued to scold him, spitting all over the table.

Lu Mingfei sat absentmindedly at the dining table, mechanically picking up a fried dough stick and taking a bite. His mouth was full of oily flavor but he couldn't taste anything. It wasn't until he had eaten half of the fried dough stick that he belatedly looked up and saw Lu Mingze across from him slurping down his porridge.

"Hey bro, what day is it today?"

Lu Mingze looked at Lu Mingfei in surprise and said, "Brother, did you really stay up all night last night? How did it make you stupid?"

He put down his bowl of porridge and pointed to the shrine with incense sticks above the television in the living room.

In the very center of the shrine stands a half-dragon human statue carved from ebony wood. It has ferocious dragon horns, its body is covered with fine scales, and its tail is coiled on the base. It is similar to the Guan Gong statue, but it is an old object passed down from my grandfather's generation.

"Today we welcome the Dragon God."

Lu Mingfei's gaze followed his finger to the wooden carving. The morning sunlight slanted through the window and shone on the wooden carving's face, illuminating the two eyes inlaid with black glass.

In that instant, the hairs on Lu Mingfei's body stood on end.

Because he realized that the look in those eyes was clearly the same as the look in his nightmare.

The same.

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