Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

Ijichi drove the tour bus back to Tokyo High School, and the atmosphere on the bus was incredibly cold.

Yuji Itadori felt his mind was in turmoil, and he couldn't calm down for a long time as he recalled the words that had inexplicably appeared in his ear.

He originally thought that the dreams he had been having these past few days were just a side effect of the negative emotional curse, caused by his inability to control his curse power.

But now it seems that those are two completely different things. Is there something he wants to remind himself of?

A ghost? A trapped sorcerer? Could it be his grandfather?

But when he recalled that face from their first meeting, Yuujin Itadori's Adam's apple bobbed violently. He subconsciously swallowed, and a thin layer of sweat instantly seeped out on his back. Even his palms were sticky with sweat. Cold sweat slid down the back of his neck, and his whole body tensed up.

Sitting to the side, Kugizaki Nobara looked at his absent-minded and pale appearance and couldn't help but frown, her face full of doubt—why did he suddenly become so frightened?

Surely not?

"Hey! Itadori, what are you spacing out for? Are you really that scared?" Kugisaki Nobara poked Itadori's arm, her tone a mix of impatience and concern.

Hearing the noise, Fushiguro Megumi slowly turned his head and immediately saw Itajiro covered in sweat, looking as if he had been pulled out of the water. His brows furrowed involuntarily, and his tone softened as he spoke with concern:

"Wutong, are you alright? Don't worry unnecessarily. With that old man around, we and the principal will be fine."

As soon as he finished speaking, Fushiguro Megumi sensed something was wrong. Itadori and Kugizaki, who were standing next to him, both widened their eyes involuntarily and stared at him with disbelief, their lips twitching.

He was about to ask, "What's wrong with you guys?" when he was suddenly punched hard on the head.

"Ouch!" Fuhei Hui groaned, clutching his head and looking ahead. He saw Locke slumped in the chair in front of him, clenching his fists and looking at him mockingly.

"Kid, finally dare to speak your mind?" The shadow clone raised an eyebrow, his tone full of mockery. "Old man, huh?"

"Why did you hit me?!" Fukuro Megumi retorted, frowning, her tone full of dissatisfaction. "You and that old man are clearly not the same person!"

"Awooo—!"

Before he could finish speaking, he was punched again, the pain making him curl up his shoulders. This time he was completely obedient, squatting down with his head in his hands, grimacing.

Locke's shadow clone retracted his fist, casually blew away non-existent dust from it, and then slowly explained:

"This punch was to help you avoid a trap, so you won't be punished by Nara later. Although on the surface I'm not the same person as him, he can see all my memories, and he heard what you just said."

"Hahahaha! Fushiguro Megumi, have you gone mad from practicing so much lately?"

Kugizaki Nobara laughed so hard she couldn't stand up straight, showing no mercy whatsoever, which made Fushiguro Megumi's face turn completely black with anger.

The three second-year students in the back seat huddled together and whispered, as if discussing some interesting gossip, their eyes filled with barely concealed excitement.

The students from Kyoto School frequently glanced at him, their gazes filled with curiosity, wariness, or aloofness, scrutinizing Locke from head to toe. Whispers of conversation rose and fell, yet were deliberately kept quiet, as if they were discussing something that could not be ignored.

Looking at the bustling scene before him, and then at Locke's reassuring figure, Hisahito Itadori's heart, which had been hanging in suspense for so long, finally settled back into his stomach.

I must be overthinking it—with Brother Locke around, how could anything possibly happen?

As soon as Huzhang closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, he suddenly opened them again to find the entire carriage completely engulfed in a thick, indistinguishable pool of blood.

He turned his head in horror—

What came into view was Fushiguro Megumi, whose left arm was severed at the root and was bleeding profusely, and Kugizaki Nobara, whose upper body was almost gone and only half of her body remained. The two of them lay slumped on the blood-soaked seats like torn rags.

Looking further back, Zenjima Maki's face was covered in hideous, torn scars, and she was barely breathing. The panda's body was broken and mangled, and the curse patterns had completely faded. Dog-roll Thorn's hands were all severed, and he hung his head silently.

The Kyoto College students suffered even more casualties, a horrific scene. Everyone was like a broken doll, frozen in their seats, without a trace of life.

His closest brother, Toudou Aoi, had half his cheek torn off, his hands missing, and his only remaining eyeball staring intently at Itajimaru, its depths churning with despair, resentment, and silent accusation. That gaze pierced straight into his heart, as if roaring:

"It's all your fault..."

The hoarse, breathy voice, like a needle dipped in blood, pierced through Huzhang's heart, causing him to stiffen and forget to breathe.

In the hasty turn of my head, a bone-chilling coldness shot up my spine and spread throughout my body—

Before him stood a hunched figure, its hood pulled low, revealing a face covered in deep wrinkles, its skin dry and sagging, its eyebrows and eyes devoid of any youthful spirit—it was none other than himself, aged to the extreme.

Those once bright and clear eyes were now as murky as a dried-up pond, yet they were fixed on him, devoid of any warmth.

After a moment of deathly silence, the aged "Itadori" slowly opened his mouth, his voice hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against wood, each word wrapped in bone-deep hatred and despair, striking Itadori's heart heavily: "Itadori Yuujin... I curse you."

The next moment, the world spun around him, and he gripped the tiger staff tightly, a frantic cry suddenly rang in his ears:

"Kudoshin!!!"

The blood-red illusion shattered with a deafening crash, and the moment his vision cleared again, Itachi finally came to his senses—that hellish scene he had just witnessed was nothing more than a chilling nightmare.

Kugizaki Nobara frowned, anxiously patting his face with her hand, filled with lingering fear. Fushiguro Megumi also leaned closer, gently lifting his eyelids with her fingertips to carefully examine his pupils.

"What are you doing? You scared us to death!"

Huzhang struggled to his feet, leaning against the aisle of the carriage, his heart still pounding, and looked at the crowd, still shaken.

After seeing the concerned faces, I realized that everyone was safe and sound. The terrible scene just now seemed to have never happened; it was just a nightmare.

Just as he was about to speak, the train suddenly braked sharply, and the ear-piercing metallic scraping sound instantly interrupted all other sounds.

"Mr. Ijichi, what the hell are you doing?!"

Faced with the crowd's repeated questioning, Ijichi trembled all over, his fingertips trembling as he raised them and pointed to the front of the car.

Everyone looked in the direction he pointed and were all taken aback. They didn't know when Locke had gotten off the bus and stood in the middle of the road, blocking their way.

He was holding a real person covered in hideous stitches in his left hand. The person's limbs were limp and he couldn't even make a sound. All that was left was his eyes filled with terror. In his right hand, he held a crimson fleshy cube with countless rolling eyeballs densely packed on its surface. The eerie curse power pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe.

Locke lowered his eyes to stare at the object in his hand, his usual nonchalant expression completely gone, his face turning frighteningly grim.

Before Locke could even ask a question, the man being held suddenly began to writhe violently, raising his trembling hand and pointing behind him.

Locke turned his head abruptly, his pupils dilating in shock as he stared in disbelief behind him.

Wherever I looked, there stood someone who shouldn't have been there at all.

The demon lord Kijuro grinned, his smile sinister and enduring, his hoarse voice piercing the air:

"Long time no see, Nishikita Kojuro Keiryu."

The next instant, the Prison Gate in Locke's palm suddenly opened, and a vortex of dark curse power swept in, swallowing him whole and sealing him completely before he could make any further moves.

Everyone in the carriage witnessed this scene and was terrified, their breath caught in their throats.

Meanwhile, standing in the crowd, Itadori Yuujin felt as if his head was being torn apart by a sharp pain.

The scenes before his eyes shifted and overlapped wildly, and unfamiliar memories that did not belong to him at all surged into his brain like a flood.

And in his ears, the same words kept echoing:

"I curse you, Hisahito Itadori."