Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

The wind on the rooftop howled past, carrying smoke and dust. Homelander, who had just recovered from a brief fainting spell, had bloodshot eyes, and the heat rising around him almost seemed to ignite the air. Beneath his skin, there was still a dull ache from the severe blow Locke had inflicted.

He shook his head, forcibly dispelling the dizziness in his mind. In addition to the howling wind, he also heard the muffled thuds of fists colliding, and this sound instantly attracted all his attention.

Turning his head to look, the sight before him made his pupils shrink: the bastard covered in black fluid armor was pinning the soldier boy against the broken wall and beating him mercilessly.

In terms of combat strength, the soldier boy was tough and resilient, which was his most outstanding advantage. However, when facing a ruthless character like Locke, who was skilled to the max, he was completely put on the defensive.

Locke's movements were so fast that they left only afterimages, completely dragging the soldier boy into the unfamiliar realm of high-speed combat.

At least twelve powerful punches per second landed precisely on the soldier boy's vital points, the force of the blows so fierce they could cleave the air.

Even if the soldier boy could only barely find an opening to counterattack after taking thirty or forty punches, each clumsy, wide-open attack was accurately predicted by Locke, who used the momentum to his advantage, and in turn, brought him even more intense suppression and attacks.

Homelander and Soldier Boy, this father and son duo, have always believed in overwhelming numerical superiority and brute force to win, and their fighting style is rough, unrestrained, and wide-ranging.

This was the first time they had encountered an opponent like Locke, whose stats were inferior to theirs, yet who completely overwhelmed them with his exceptional skills and agile movements. For a moment, both of them lost their composure and their mentality was on the verge of collapse.

But at this moment, the heart of the patriot was not filled with rage at the defeat, but rather seized by a strange emotion—the most humble yearning for paternal love that he had wanted to sever but still lingered.

Seeing her "biological father" being suppressed and beaten in a sorry state, the last remaining bond between them surged up instantly.

Without further hesitation, he gritted his teeth, unleashed a burst of energy, and leaped into the air. Using the momentum, he lunged at Locke, securing him with a tight bear hug. Ignoring Locke's attacks, he carried him straight through the rooftop dome and forcefully broke out of the crumbling Water Tower.

He carried Locke as they charged wildly through the skyscrapers of Manhattan's business district. The solid reinforced concrete crumbled like foam under the immense force of their collisions, leaving jagged gaps in the buildings along the way, and shattering glass curtain walls that rained down on the ground like a storm.

The street below instantly turned into a living hell, with screams from passersby piercing through the deafening roar, rising and falling incessantly.

Some people were cut by falling glass, some were buried by collapsing walls, and the fleeing crowds pushed and trampled each other. Desperate cries and the muffled thuds of collapsing buildings intertwined, completely shattering the lively atmosphere of the bustling commercial district.

At the same time, the floor that had fallen from the Water Tower crashed heavily to the ground with a loud "boom," shaking the earth and sending thick dust billowing dozens of meters high, instantly engulfing half a block.

Smoke still rises from the broken walls and ruins, and the survivors huddle behind the rubble, shivering. The Water Tower, already riddled with holes, is twisting and deforming at a visible speed because its core load-bearing structure has been completely destroyed and its support points have completely failed.

Large chunks of the outer wall are peeling and flaking outwards, exposing broken steel bars like the broken bones of a giant beast. Some floors have already separated from the main structure, hanging precariously in the air, ready to crash down at any moment and drag more blocks into destruction.

The reporters who had been holding cameras, trying to capture this extreme scene, were now frozen in place, their cameras slipping from their limp hands and lenses shattering.

As they stared at the scene before them, which resembled a natural disaster, their blood seemed to freeze. Only when their teeth chattered uncontrollably did they belatedly realize that the fear that people had long buried deep in their hearts and dared not speak of was becoming a reality in the most tragic way.

The threat was never a so-called disaster, but rather these superhumans themselves, who possessed world-destroying power yet had no sense of awe.

"Give me a hand! Here you go!"

A frantic shout abruptly snapped them out of their daze. There before them stood Hugh, naked and with blood seeping from his shoulders, gritting his teeth as he carried two barely breathing, severely injured passersby. His figure crunched under his feet on the gravel. His face was covered in sweat and dust, his breathing rapid and labored, showing no sign of stopping.

The reporters snapped out of their daze, quickly brushed the dust off their faces, dropped their cameras, and stumbled forward to help the seriously injured passersby. Seeing this, Hugh simply nodded and vanished again in a blur—he had to continue traversing the crumbling ruins of the building to find more trapped and injured people.

Across the street, Luke Skywalker stood on the edge of the smoke and dust, his body stiff as he witnessed everything. The hypocrisy and revelry of the superhero party, the back view of Locke when he came to his rescue, Hugh's resolute determination to save someone naked... countless images intertwined in his mind, and an emotion he had never felt before surged in his chest, overwhelming the fear in his heart.

"Luke?"

A familiar voice came from behind him, and Jin Tong turned his head sharply. He saw his good friend Andrei holding his girlfriend Kate's hand, looking flustered and preparing to run away.

Both of them were stunned to see that Jin Tong was completely still.

Jin Tong paused for a moment, his eyes gradually hardening from initial confusion to unwavering resolve, and said, word by word, "I'm not leaving."

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Kate's emotions surged instantly, her voice trembling with tears as she gripped his arm tightly. "If we don't leave now, it'll be too late! Didn't you see Homelander's devastating heat vision? We're just Godolkin's students; we don't need to get involved in this deadly mess!"

Andrei was so anxious he stamped his feet: "Luke, don't be stubborn! We can't control this!"

Jin Tong gently pulled his hands away from theirs and shook his head firmly.

He looked up at the collapsing Vought Tower, where smoke and dust filled the air and faint cries of agony could be heard. "I know," his voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable determination, "but... I want to be a true hero."

Before he finished speaking, flames suddenly burst forth around the golden boy, the orange-red light standing out starkly against the gray smoke.

He took a deep breath, leaped into the air, and transformed into a fiery meteor, flying straight towards the Walter Tower, which was about to collapse completely.

Amidst countless terrified gazes, he stood firmly against the massive, collapsing wall, flames enveloping his body, like a weak yet resolute barrier between the ruins and the crowd.