Copy & Paste Power in Modern World

Adam reached the second base a short while later. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

This was the place he used for supply work, not the apartment where he slept. Boxes were stacked near one wall. The rear storage space was still plain, and tonight he entered it wearing the disguise of a young man whose face looked nothing like his real one.

But even that was no longer the most important part.

Before coming here, Adam had tested something in his apartment.

He had stood in front of the mirror while fully dressed in Wil’s outside appearance, with the clothes, wig, and light makeup already in place. Then he had touched his own shirt, focused on the entire disguise as one complete set, and closed his eyes.

"Copy," he had said.

When he checked the inventory after that, the whole appearance had been there. Not one piece at a time, but the full set together.

So he had gone one step further.

He had washed his face, removed everything, and returned to his normal appearance.

Then he had touched his own chest and said, "Paste."

The effect had been immediate.

Fresh clothes had settled over him. The wig had returned to his head. The light facial shaping had appeared exactly the way it had been before. In seconds he was Wil again.

That had made him clench his fist and whisper, "Yes."

The time-saving value of it was obvious. If someone started following him too closely, he would not need a long wait, a makeup room, or a mirror. He would only need a place to stop for a moment, and then the disguise could return at once.

Standing in the supply room now, Adam still felt the excitement from that discovery.

He had started this power with small things, ordinary objects, and simple copies. After that came more.

He had copied electricity itself into a held emergency state.

Now he had copied a disguise worn on his own body.

That was when the deeper truth started settling in.

The real limit of this ability was not only the object in front of him. It was the shape of his imagination.

Then his thoughts returned to the side again.

Two stored things had now become untouchable unless something even more important appeared. One was the preserved Electric Spark. The other was the full disguise set. Earlier, when he had only eight slots, that thinking had reduced his real working space to six. Now the inventory had expanded, but the rule in his head had stayed the same.

Some copies were no longer normal stock.

They were emergency tools.

He looked at the chip box, opened it, checked Kenji’s message again, and started working.

One by one, he copied the required chips and built the quantity FrostMire needed for the evaluation lot.

The work went faster than it would have weeks ago.

His endurance had gone up. His handling of repeated copy chains had improved too. He no longer burned through himself at the same crude rate as before.

Even so, the cost was still there.

By the time an hour had passed, Adam had already pasted around two hundred and fifty units.

That was more than he had strictly needed.

The test window only required around a hundred units for the first seven-day lot, but he had pushed beyond that and made roughly double. Better to have excess ready than to find himself short after making promises.

By then, however, the price had caught up with him.

Sweat covered his face and neck. His breathing had turned heavy. He looked less like a man who had spent an hour in one room and more like someone who had finished two long races without rest.

He lowered himself onto a crate, tore open an ORS sachet, mixed it into water, and drank half of it in one pull.

That helped, but only enough to steady him.

After a few minutes, he made the next call.

Adam did not use any real number of his own. On the way earlier, he had copied another man’s phone from the street for exactly this purpose. He brought it out now and called Sayash.

Sayash picked up after a few rings.

"Yes?"

Adam gave the route, the pickup location, the expected load, and the delivery timing without wasting a word.

Sayash asked two short questions, got the answers he needed, and agreed.

"Fine," he said. "I’ll handle it."

That was enough.

Once the transport side was settled, Adam left the supply base, changed his path twice on purpose, and returned home.

There, he made another call.

This time it was to Bruno.

The moment Bruno saw the unknown number, he answered fast.

"Mister Wil," he said. "I was just thinking about you."

Adam got straight to the point.

"I have work for you."

Bruno sounded ready before the sentence had even fully ended.

"I’ll do it."

Then he quickly added, "Before that, the work you gave me earlier is done. I dug deep into those companies. You’ll like what I found."

That pleased Adam.

Bruno went on before Adam could redirect him.

"And one more thing. Gonda approached two gangs. One of them is not willing to come in. The other one looks ready to enter our alliance."

That made Adam even more interested.

For a moment he thought of Gonda directly.

Maybe he would have to speak to him again after all.

"Good," Adam said. "Come alone to a restaurant on Market Spine Road. I’ll text the exact place. Bring the file there. I’ll tell you the rest in person."

"Understood," Bruno said at once.

Adam ended the call and broke that copied phone immediately.

After that, he brought out the earlier copied phone, the one from which Gonda had first received Wil’s calls, and used that line instead.

Elsewhere, Gonda was inside a car in another district when the familiar number lit up his screen.

He recognized it at once and answered without delay.

"I was waiting for your call," he said.

Adam gave him no time to build further.

"You did good work," he said.

That surprised Gonda even though he hid it well.

Then Adam added, "Give me the contact information for the gang that is willing to come in. And I have a job for you too."

This time Gonda was not shocked.

At least that much he had expected. If this really was an organization, then news like that would have already reached them.

So he answered without hesitation.

"Yes," he said. "Tell me what you want done."