Simultaneous Transmigration: We Level Up Alone Across Multiple Worlds

There are no seasons deep in the Nibelungs.

The glowing moss on the rock face remains unchanged year after year, its dark green light spreading across the stone surface and casting blurry shadows.

If you stay there for a while, you'll feel a thin layer of coolness clinging to your clothes.

Chen Chen sat cross-legged in front of Fenrir, his right index and middle fingers pressed together on the scale on Fenrir's forehead that was larger than a palm.

The touch from my fingertips was cold and hard.

The surface of the blue and white dragon scales has fine concentric patterns, like tree rings, with each ring representing a new growth over the past five years.

Close your eyes.

His divine sense sank into Fenrir's body through his fingertips.

The twelve soul nails, forged by divine craftsmanship, were slowly rotating along the trajectory of the formation.

The nails were only as thick as a hair, and their surfaces were engraved with soul-soothing patterns designed by himself. The twelve nails traveled through Fenrir's dragon blood meridians, pausing briefly at each acupoint they passed through. The tips of the nails emitted a faint wisp of light to anchor the soul and prevent it from continuing to be as foolish as before.

Because Fenrir did not devour Jormungandr, who was on the other side, his soul was incomplete. His powerful body was too much for his weak soul to bear, causing it to dissipate continuously.

With the intervention of the Soul-Suppressing Nail, the soul no longer dissipates and begins to grow and heal spontaneously. Over time, it gradually grows to match the physical body, and the original problem naturally resolves itself.

Chen Chen opened his eyes.

"Still the same."

Xia Mi leaned against the rock wall, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed on Fenrir's closed-eyed face.

Fenrir's breathing was steady, and his massive dragon body was curled up in a ball.

"In five years, to go from only having instinctive reactions to being able to speak fluently is already quite fast."

Chen Chen recalled what the mortal Chen Chen had said in the Origin Space.

"Soul repair is not alchemy; there is no fixed timeframe. Moreover, Fenrir's problem is not an external injury… his mental deficiency is a congenital defect arising from the distribution of power between the twin kings of the earth and mountains, not an injury acquired later."

"He can remember your name now."

Xia Mi's voice came from behind.

Chen Chen turned around.

Chen Chen's lips twitched slightly.

The first word Fenrir learned was "sister".

The second word is "hunger".

The third word is "brother"...this refers to Chen Chen.

It took Xia Mi almost two years to help him distinguish between "brother" and "sister":

The younger sister is Xia Mi, and the older brother is the one who comforts his soul.

"Is he awake today?"

He usually pretends to be dead when you're around.

Chen Chen looked down at the curled-up dragon body at his feet, and Fenrir's wagging tail tip stopped swaying happily.

A dragon scale quietly flipped up, revealing an eye underneath, the same color as Xia Mi's pupils.

The eye glanced at Chen Chen, then snapped shut.

Xia Mi walked over to Fenrir, squatted down, and tapped the closed scale twice.

"Stop pretending, get up and eat."

The scales all flipped open with a whoosh.

Fenrir raised his head from his curled-up body, his huge mouth opened, and saliva dripped from between his teeth.

Xia Mi took out a plastic bag from her backpack, which contained a small half bag of braised beef.

Fenrir's head followed the smell of braised beef, his deep blue vertical pupils locking onto the small plastic bag.

As Chen Chen watched this scene, an inappropriate thought suddenly popped into his mind.

"The mighty king of the earth and mountains, his favorite food is supermarket-bought braised beef."

When Xia Mi stuffed the whole piece of braised beef into Fenrir's mouth, she casually picked up a piece from the bag and stuffed it into her own mouth. After chewing it a couple of times, she mumbled that she would buy the five-spice flavor next time, as the original flavor of this brand was not salty enough.

Two dragon kings sharing a bag of braised beef, hmm...

Chen Chen silently looked away.

Xia Mi stuffed the last piece of braised beef from the plastic bag into Fenrir's mouth, stood up, clapped her hands, and glanced at Chen Chen.

"Let's go."

Xia Mi has reached the exit of Nibelungen.

"Have you located Norton yet?"

The way she spoke was completely different from how she had spoken in the Nibelungen.

"Brooklyn, New York"

Xia Mi pulled the door of the power distribution room shut and inserted the bolt into the lock with swift movements.

"He's currently a bounty hunter and doesn't know who he is."

Xia Mi took out her phone from her pocket, found a flight information, and handed it to Chen Chen.

She had already booked two tickets to New York for tomorrow.

Chen Chen stared at the ticket booking page for two seconds, then handed the phone back to her.

"You even know my passport number."

"I helped you get your passport."

Chen Chen remembered.

That summer, she said she was going to apply for a passport and took Chen Chen's ID card with her.

It was already dark when the car drove out of the abandoned industrial area.

The streetlights came on, one by one receding into the distance.

"Did you bring the seal on the bottle?"

"It's in the trunk." Xia Mi's words were a little muffled as she spoke with a mint in her mouth.

Three is enough.

One is enough.

"What if we happen to run into other dragon kings?"

Chen Chen stopped at the red light and turned to look at her with a strange expression.

Xia Mi shrugged, not paying any attention.

……

……

Brooklyn, New York.

The weather started to get cool in October.

Old Tang squatted on the windowsill of the rented room, smoking.

The window could only be opened halfway; the other half was sealed off with paint by the landlord, who said it was to prevent drafts in winter. It was already like that when he moved in, and he never thought of fixing it after moving in.

Cigarette ash fell outside the window and landed on the fire escape downstairs.

The phone rang.

Old Tang put a cigarette in his mouth and took out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.

"Feed".

"There's a job. Two kilometers south of the Brooklyn Bridge, in that abandoned industrial area, you've heard of it. Someone's offering to investigate 'abnormalities' in that area. You can decide what exactly is abnormal. The employer isn't very knowledgeable; just confirm there are no problems. The deposit has already been transferred to your account."

"OK."

After hanging up the phone, Old Tang flicked his cigarette butt out the window, stood up, and drew the curtains.

He opened his laptop and looked up a map of the industrial area. He has always had a bad sense of direction, and looking at maps is like looking at a book written in a foreign language to him. It is easier for him to find his way after he gets there.

Before leaving, he took a switchblade from the drawer and put it in his pocket.

It's quite a walk from the subway station to that industrial area.

It was completely dark.

Several streetlights were out, and old tires, discarded by someone, were piled up on the sidewalk. Old Tang had his hands in his coat pockets and was skillfully gripping his switchblade.

The iron gate to the industrial zone was half rusted, and the lock had long been pried open.

Old Tang squeezed in sideways.

The factory area was large, with several red brick factory buildings standing side by side in the night, all the windows shattered, and the walls covered with withered vines.

The cement road in the middle was cracked like a dried-up riverbed, with wild grass growing up to waist height in the cracks.

Old Tang walked along the cement road.

He walked for about ten minutes before stopping.

I can't explain why I stopped, but I felt a slight tingling sensation in the back of my head. I've had this feeling a few times before, and it never turned out to be anything good.

Suddenly, he turned around and glanced back.

There was nothing behind him.

Old Tang turned back and continued walking forward.

I decided to finish quickly and just snap a few photos to report back.

Just as he was thinking this, Old Tang tensed up.

He turned around abruptly, and the switchblade was already out of his pocket and had sprung into motion.

There were two people standing in front of him.

A young woman with a ponytail, wearing a light gray trench coat, had her hands in her pockets.

Next to her was a similarly young man with black hair; his expression was not clearly visible.

Both of them had East Asian features.

Old Tang had no information about these two people in his mind.

He didn't know them.

But the way that woman looked at him made him uncomfortable; he couldn't quite explain the feeling.

Who are you?

Old Tang instinctively stepped back, and only then did his hand holding the knife begin to sweat.

Bang!

In an instant, it felt as if someone had pressed a bundle of steel coils down on him. His legs couldn't support him, and his knees slammed onto the concrete ground with a thud, while his hands braced themselves on the ground.

The switchblade flew out of his hand.

The force gradually increased, and he was completely pinned to the ground. He opened his mouth to curse, but he couldn't utter a word; he could only drool with his mouth open.

Old Tang's vision began to blur, and his ears were ringing.

Images he didn't recognize flooded his mind: flames erupting from the ground, flowing bronze forming steps beneath his feet, and someone whispering something in a language he couldn't understand.

Those images flashed for less than a few seconds before his eyelids drooped.

The last thing he saw was the woman walking over, squatting down in front of him, and taking out a palm-sized object from her trench coat pocket, which emitted a faint glow.

He lost consciousness instantly.