Life Rebooted with Copy and Paste

Kim Do-Joon had seen the Immortal Army in Siwelin’s memories. They were composed of monsters that were both powerful and eternal.

Typically, undead monsters didn’t gather in groups. Unless a higher-ranking undead, like Lich, raised them through mana, they had no sense of camaraderie. However, the Immortal Army was different.

Out of nowhere, they invaded Siwelin’s world like a well-oiled army, moving as one, ultimately bringing about its destruction. Even Siwelin, the last of the divine saintess of that era, was eventually turned into a ghoul.

Why are they coming to mind now? Was it because this world might be Siwelin’s? Or maybe because of the stories I’ve heard about beasts that wouldn’t die?

“Even after its head was cut off, that thing killed all the warriors who had let their guard down. Then, it reattached its head and devoured the corpses. Only a handful of us managed to escape,” Jamel said, his voice low with the weight of his memories.

“Reattached its head, you say...” Kim Do-Joon muttered thoughtfully.

He paused for a moment, lost in thoughts. He mustn’t jump into conclusion just based on Jamel’s story. It could just be a creature with an extraordinarily strong regenerative ability.

Trolls, for instance, were known for their regenerative power. There were even rumors of certain trolls so potent that they could reattach severed limbs.

But well, there’s a simple way to find out.

Kim Do-Joon had a plan. When he encountered this creature, he could check its body temperature. If it were warm, like the one-horned beast he had fought earlier, then it was likely just a highly regenerative beast.

However, if it were the opposite, that would suggest an undead monster. After all, cold, bloodless bodies and the inability to truly die were hallmark traits of the undead.

One by one, Kim Do-Joon methodically sorted through the possibilities.

Jamel, who had been watching him closely, spoke with a curious tone. “You... You believe my story that easily?”

“Huh?” Kim Do-Joon gave him a puzzled look.

“When I first told people about that creature, no one believed me. They accused me of being a coward who fled in fear. It wasn’t until several more failed hunts, with heavy casualties, that people finally understood I was telling the truth.”

“Why didn’t they believe you?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? Everything born under the gods’ grace eventually returns to them. That’s the natural order of things. The idea that something wouldn’t return... was quite unnatural. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it either.”

That made sense. In this world—or at least in this area—undead monsters were likely unheard of. It would be difficult for those who had never encountered one to accept its existence. Religion might play a part in that as well.

However, Kim Do-Joon was different. From his very first dungeon, he had fought skeletons. He had slain hundreds of ghouls in Siwelin’s labyrinth, harvesting their experience points. He had even witnessed the vast army of the undead marching across her world through her memories.

“I’ve seen similar creatures before,” Kim Do-Joon said casually.

To him, the undead were just another category of monsters.

This man...

Jamel was shocked by Kim Do-Joon’s nonchalant response. At first, Jamel had thought he was just a regular traveler, nothing more. He had not paid much attention to Kim Do-Joon’s strange clothing or the unfamiliar mana he used, simply dismissing it as something mildly unusual.

However, seeing how calmly Kim Do-Joon reacted to a story that had terrified others, and remembering the perfectly slain creature they had encountered earlier, Jamel began to realize that this man had likely gone through much more than he had initially imagined.

His heart stirred.

Perhaps...

He started to think that this man, Kim Do-Joon, could potentially kill that monster. Maybe, just maybe, this time, they could finally defeat it.

Bang!

The next moment, Jamel slammed the table and abruptly stood up. Kim Do-Joon glanced at him, confused by the sudden movement.

“Wait here. I need to speak with Fuad,” Jamel said, his eyes wide with a newfound determination.

This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. What if this man is the one sent by the gods to help them slay the beast?

If that were the case, they needed to gather their warriors and strike. Otherwise, they would be condemned to a life of fear, forever on the run, always searching for safe refuge.

“Wait a minute. So, where exactly is the creature?” Kim Do-Joon called after him.

“We can continue to talk about it once I return!” Jamel shouted back.

Kim Do-Joon raised his hand as if to stop him, but Jamel had already dashed far away. Now, only his hand remained hanging in the air, awkwardly. He let it drop, clicking his tongue in mild frustration.

I only wanted to get my hands on some decent gear.

It had all started when he asked about the monster with the most number of horns. Still, this could be for the best, because he could have stumbled upon the clue to the Immortal Army.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jamel and Fuad would run away. Kim Do-Joon then pulled a piece of jerky from his inventory and started chewing. The salty tang spread over his tongue, a welcome relief after the bland breakfast he had eaten earlier. It was almost too good to eat alone.

“Want some?” he offered, holding the jerky out to the other blacksmiths, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation.

If Jamel was the head blacksmith, these must be the second, third, and fourth best ones here.

The blacksmiths hesitated for a moment, then sheepishly approached, each taking a piece. Kim Do-Joon couldn’t help but smile, imagining them hopping up like Shura, after getting a taste.

***

Inside the large tent of Fuad, the chief who also served as the tribe’s priest, the warriors of the village had gathered. All who were not out hunting were present. Among them were women, young fighters who seemed barely of age, and elderly warriors who had clearly seen many battles.

In the Mahal Tribe, age or gender didn’t determine whether one could be a warrior. The divine blessing they received was equal for all. Only the very young and the very old were excluded from taking up arms.

"This is our chance. That traveler must be a gift from God," Jamel declared confidently.

Hearing that, the warriors exchanged uncertain glances and murmured among themselves. They had all heard about the events at the forge earlier. It was Jamel himself—one of the most respected figures in the village—who had told them. Still, it was hard for them to accept.

It wasn’t that people doubted Jamel’s words, but the five-horned creature was a symbol of pure terror for them. Many of their forefathers had died because of that beast. Even now, whenever it stirred, the tribe packed up their tents and fled. It was a nightmare they could not escape.

“Is it really possible?” one warrior asked hesitantly.

“Even if the traveler is as skilled as you say, can we really rely on just him?” another voiced their concern.

The fear was palpable, but there were also voices of support. Some, like Jamel, believed that this was the opportunity they had been waiting for. Fuad quietly observed the faces of the warriors. The older ones were mostly the ones voicing concerns, while the younger warriors seemed more eager to agree with Jamel. At first glance, it seemed like youthful confidence, but Fuad knew better.

No...

In the Mahal Tribe, even the oldest warriors never lost their courage. The only time a Mahal warrior grew docile was when they stood before God after death. The true difference wasn’t age, but whether or not they had seen the creature with their own eyes. The older warriors had seen the creature while the younger ones had not.

This will fail if things stay like this.

If they went into battle with this division, the outcome was obvious. Fuad, as the chief, had two options. He could convince Jamel to drop the idea entirely, or he could rally the dissenters and boost their morale for a full-scale hunt. For the good of the tribe, he had to make the right choice.

"Jamel, where did you say the traveler is now?"

First, Fuad needed to see the man with his own eyes. Understanding his intent, Jamel nodded.

"He should be at my tent near the workshop.”

"Ah, no, I saw him heading toward the Great Rock with Shura earlier," one of the younger warriors interjected.

It seemed the traveler had already left the workshop. Fuad gestured to the young warrior. "Would you mind bringing the traveler here? We can’t have a proper discussion without him."

"Yes, sir!" The young warrior quickly left the tent.

As silence returned, those who remained closed their eyes and fell into quiet contemplation. Each warrior was likely praying to their own god, asking for guidance on which path to take. Fuad, too, closed his eyes in silent prayer.

***

Meanwhile, at the Great Rock, the sound of metal clashing echoed across the wide rock surface.

Clang!

The Great Rock was a large, flat boulder frequently used by the tribe’s warriors for sparring.

"Ha!"

Kim Do-Joon and Shura clashed repeatedly, exchanging dozens of blows in mere moments. Although neither of them was aiming for lethal strikes, it was still a dangerous match. Both were using real, sharp weapons for the sparring session. The duel had been initiated by Shura out of nowhere.

— I heard that you’re really strong. Is that true?

It seemed like the word of the three-horned beast Kim Do-Joon had brought down had already spread. It was Shura who had found him, and, without hesitation, dragged him to the Great Rock.

Besides, Kim Do-Joon didn’t have any reasons to refuse. He didn’t know how long it would take for Jamel to return, and sparring was a good way to pass the time. He also welcomed the chance to test his skills.

Clang! Clang!

She’s quick, Kim Do-Joon thought as his spear sliced through the air. Although he was adjusting his attacks to match her skill, she effortlessly dodged them. Moving with a light, almost playful bounce, Shura danced around his strikes, her chakram spinning through the air with precision.

Clang!

"Ah!" Shura let out a small exclamation as her chakram met Kim Do-Joon’s spear.

Kim Do-Joon parried the attack and hooked the circular blade with his spear, sending it flying through the air. The chakram spun high before landing behind Shura, embedding itself deep into the stone ground. Without missing a beat, Kim Do-Joon thrusted his spear toward her.

However, Shura was not done yet. She still had the other chakram.

“Hup!” she shouted as she leaped into the air.

In an agile move, she landed directly on the tip of Kim Do-Joon's spear—barefoot. Squatting there, she stared down at him, balancing effortlessly on the weapon's narrow edge.

“Hehe,” she giggled mischievously.

— Who does this little brat think she’s stepping on!

Meanwhile, Karlish was fuming. His voice, full of indignation, echoed in Kim Do Joon’s mind.

— This is my domain, my vessel! Tell her to get off!

Kim Do-Joon chuckled inwardly at Karlish’s tantrum.

Alright, alright.

With a quick surge of energy, Kim Do-Joon infused his spear with the Heart of Flame, causing it to heat up instantly.

“Ah! Hot!” Shura yelped and immediately jumped off.

She plopped down on the ground, blowing on her feet and grumbling in frustration.

“What the heck? You could do that? Were you holding back the whole time?” Shura asked, looking surprised.

“It's the duty of adults to go easy on kids,” Kim Do-Joon replied calmly.

“I’m not a kid anymore!” Shura protested, puffing out her chest. “I became an adult yesterday!”

Kim Do-Joon glanced at her briefly, ensuring she had not burned her feet. Thankfully, she was unharmed. He had controlled the heat carefully, after all.

“Shura! Traveler!”

A voice interrupted them.

“Huh?”

A young warrior from the Mahal tribe approached, his expression serious. He looked to be in his early twenties.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” the warrior said, addressing Kim Do-Joon. He briefly explained what had happened at Chief Fuad’s tent.

“Really?” Shura’s eyes widened in excitement.

The five-horned beast, a creature of legend, was the topic of discussion.

“The chief is asking to see you,” the young warrior continued. “He needs you to come right away.”

Kim Do-Joon nodded. There was no reason to refuse since he was the one who started it.

“I’m coming too!” Shura declared, immediately springing to her feet.

The two of them made their way to Fuad’s tent, with Shura trailing closely behind. The warrior glanced at her but said nothing. A few days ago, she’d have been dismissed as too young, but now, as an official adult of the tribe, she had earned her place.

***

“Here we are,” the warrior said as they arrived at the tent.

The scene inside was chaotic. Mahal warriors—both male and female—sat around, their horns visible and their faces etched with concern, engaged in heated debate.

“This might be our last chance,” one warrior said. “We can’t let it slip away.”

“We’ll have more chances,” another argued. “It’s too soon after the last hunt. Too many warriors died back then.”

“But still...”

Though the warriors spoke in calm tones, the sheer number of voices made the tent feel loud and restless. Kim Do-Joon furrowed his brow.

What exactly are they arguing about?

“Everyone,” he said, raising his voice slightly.

Immediately, the murmurs quieted, and all eyes turned to him. The traveler they had been waiting for had arrived.

“You’re here,” Chief Fuad began. “We were just—”

Before he could finish, Kim Do-Joon interrupted. “It seems like there’s a bit of confusion.”

Everyone, including Fuad, looked at him, waiting for him to clarify.

“I never asked any of you to come with me,” Kim Do-Joon stated plainly. “I’ll go on my own. Just tell me where the creature is.”

A heavy silence fell over the tent. The warriors exchanged confused glances, not quite comprehending what he had just said.

“There is no need for anyone to join me. Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll take care of the rest,” Kim Do-Joon repeated.

Slowly, realization dawned on the faces of the warriors. The meaning behind his words sank in. Was the traveler calling them cowardly and weak, telling them to stay behind?

That was not Kim Do-Joon’s intention, but the insult was taken just the same.

“...!”

A collective fire lit in the eyes of the warriors. The men and women who had moments ago expressed doubt, hesitation, and fear now stood up one by one. Even the older, more cautious warriors, who had initially opposed the hunt, rose to their feet with renewed determination.

In an instant, the heated arguments and differing opinions that had filled the tent were erased, unified by Kim Do-Joon’s challenge.