Copy & Paste Power in Modern World

Adam could feel his fingers trembling even after he stopped.

The copied chips lay in neat rows on the table. Three hundred pieces had already become normal for him, and that thought alone made him want to laugh. A few weeks ago, he would have thought one copied chip was a miracle. Now three hundred felt like a daily punishment his own company demanded from him.

He drank the last half of the ORS bottle and leaned back against the chair.

His throat still felt dry.

His head hurt.

His stomach had started making small painful twists because he had not eaten properly since morning. If he stayed in the apartment, he would keep staring at the chips and force himself to paste more. That was exactly why he stood up.

"Food first," he muttered.

He changed into a simple disguise, not Wil, not Rivan, and not any face connected to Bruno or the company. This one looked like a tired clerk in cheap glasses and a loose shirt. Good enough to sit in a small shop without anyone remembering him.

The street outside felt too bright.

Adam walked slowly, keeping his head down. He chose a food shop two lanes away from his usual route. The place was small, with plastic chairs, steel plates, and a television mounted above the counter. A few customers were eating without paying much attention to the screen.

Adam ordered rice and curry and sat in the corner.

For the first few minutes, he only ate.

Then the news anchor’s voice cut through the shop noise.

"Mayor Victor Gray addressed a large campaign rally today..."

Adam’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth.

Victor Gray was John’s father.

The screen changed to a stage covered with banners and flags. Victor Gray stood at the center, smiling like a man who had never stepped on anyone to climb. He spoke about development, family values, and protecting ordinary people.

Adam’s grip tightened around the spoon.

’Ordinary people.’ Adam thought.

In his previous life, this man’s power had stood behind John like a wall. Police, college staff, local contacts, favors, pressure, silence. John had been dangerous by himself, but Victor Gray’s position had made that danger harder to touch.

Adam felt anger rise in his chest.

Then the camera shifted.

John stood behind his father, slightly to the side, smiling politely while people clapped.

The anger became sharper.

Adam forgot the food in front of him. The shop owner shouted something toward the kitchen. A child at another table spilled water. None of it reached him properly. All he saw was John standing there clean and calm, as if he had not destroyed Adam’s future once and started doing it again in this life.

Then Adam saw the man standing near John.

His eyes widened.

Dinesh was standing there.

For one second, Adam’s body went cold.

The spoon slipped from his fingers and hit the plate with a small sound. The customer at the next table glanced at him, but Adam did not look back.

His father was standing near the rally stage, beside John, wearing the same simple clothes he wore in the village. He looked uncomfortable, but not tied, not beaten, not dragged. When John leaned toward him and said something, Dinesh even gave a small polite smile.

That smile confused Adam more than fear would have.

’Did he kidnap him?’ Adam thought.

The answer came too fast.

No.

If John had kidnapped him, Dinesh would not be standing in front of cameras. If John wanted to hide damage, he would not put Adam’s father beside a public stage. This was not a cage. It was a signal.

Adam’s breath still refused to settle.

’Idiot. How did you leave them alone?’ Adam thought. ’You knew John. You knew what he did in the future. How did you think the village was outside the board?’

Guilt hit harder than the fear.

He had been careful with phones, disguises, booths, companies, gangs, and fake identities. Yet his father had walked into the city with nothing but worry and a cloth bag, and John had reached him before Adam did. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The anchor kept talking.

"The mayor’s son was also seen helping villagers and local visitors near the rally site..."

The screen showed John guiding Dinesh through the crowd.

Adam forced himself to breathe.

’Think. Do not move first. Think.’ Adam thought.

John wanted him to react. That much was clear. John had figured out that Adam had not gone home, that his phone was dead, and that he was likely hiding somewhere in the city. The next step was not to attack him directly. It was to touch something visible and wait for Adam to jump.

Adam looked at his father’s face again.

Dinesh looked worried, but not terrified. He believed something. John must have given him a story, maybe college work, maybe a broken phone, maybe a delay. A soft lie, not a threat.

That meant John had not reached the stage where he wanted blood.

Not yet.

Adam knew him well enough to understand that. John did not burn the last piece first. He tested, pressed, watched, and waited. In the previous life, he had used every method only after years of trying to break Adam from different angles.

It was still early, and that meant this was bait.

Adam lowered his eyes to the plate, but he could not eat anymore.

If he called his father now, John would know the bait worked. If he ran to the rally, John would see the shape of his disguise network. If he ignored it completely, Dinesh might stay near John longer than Adam could accept.

The television moved to another shot of the crowd.

Adam sat very still.

For the first time since returning to the past, John had touched his family again.

And Adam could not afford to answer like a son before thinking like a survivor.

He picked up the spoon again only to make the nearby customer stop looking at him. The rice had gone cold, but he forced one bite down. His body needed food and his mind needed silence, yet he had neither.

On the screen, the rally continued as if it was only politics.

To Adam, it was a message with his father’s face inside it.