Life Rebooted with Copy and Paste

In the command center in Shanghai, a tense silence hung over the room.

—Babababam—!

A massive, looming dragon filled the display screen. Two Hunters were locked in combat with the beast.

With precision and power, they tore through its scales, severed its wings, and eventually cut into its chest.

Everyone in the command center, including Chairman Jang, watched the scene with bated breath, sweat trickling down their faces. Even though their throats were dry from the tension, no one dared to reach for a water bottle.

They didn’t dare look away, fearing a lifetime of regret. That was how awe-inspiring the two Hunters were.

Finally, the dragon vanished. Its shadowy form collapsed inward, consumed into nothingness. Afterward, two silhouettes could be seen falling from the air, crashing onto the ground.

The room was frozen with silence. For a brief moment, no one dared to speak.

“We did it!”

“It was a success!”

Cheers erupted, filling the command center.

Relief washed over everyone like a tidal wave. The nightmare was over. Even from the distant command center, the oppressive fear had been palpable. Therefore, its death felt like a miracle.

Unfortunately, there was no dragon corpse to be salvaged for rare materials, highly coveted for their immense value. It couldn’t be helped since some monsters simply left no remains.

"Chairman! Congratulations!"

"Yes, thank you!"

For now, celebration was the priority. China had survived the crisis, and words of gratitude poured in from every direction.

"We will never forget how you came to our aid in such dire times," Chairman Jang said with a broad smile, shaking hands with the Hunters.

But then, the jubilant atmosphere shattered as the room grew cold.

"Wait... that can’t be..."

"Isn’t that Gao Lin?"

"Gao Lin?"

Gao Lin’s lifeless body fell from the dragon’s chest.

"No... that’s impossible..."

Chairman Jang shook his head in denial. However, as he stared at the screen, words failed him. Gao Lin’s unmistakable face filled the display.

Shoot! They’ve found out!

Of course, Chairman Jang had known all along. He had received prior reports about Gao Lin’s actions—summoning shadow constructs from Shanghai to create the Branch that called forth the dragon.

In fact, the reason for initially refusing foreign aid was to conceal Gao Lin’s existence.

Damn it, I totally forgot about this!

The overwhelming presence of the shadow dragon had driven it from his mind. Now, sweat coated his hands as he clenched his fists.

"You’ll need to explain this," said one of the Hunters, letting go of Chairman Jang’s hand with a sharp gesture.

"Yes of course," another Hunter agreed, their tone icy.

The warm camaraderie from moments earlier evaporated, leaving only a frigid tension in the command center.

***

Kim Do-Joon woke up under the soft embrace of a warm blanket.

Where am I...?

He recognized the ceiling as the one from his hotel room.

Groaning, he rubbed his temples as he sat up. His mind was still muddled, swirling with the flood of information and revelations from the recent events.

Suddenly, the image of Mel Sior’s death flashed through his memory. It wasn't Mel Sior that was corrupted by guilt and power, but the boy he once was.

Overwhelmed with emotions, Kim Do-Joon instinctively reached for his phone. Checking the time, he made a call.

—Hello? Daddy?

"Yes, it’s me," Kim Do-Joon said softly.

It was his daughter, back in South Korea. The video call showed her face, bright and familiar, as well as the warm, comforting backdrop of their home.

"I just wanted to see my dear daughter’s face," Kim Do-Joon said with a gentle smile.

—Really?

"Of course. Daddy misses you!" Kim Do-Joon replied.

Hearing her voice and seeing her face grounded him. The storm of emotions subsided, leaving a calm resolve in its wake. His reason for fighting was his home and his family, where he belonged.

—Oh! Let me get Si-Ah for you! Si-Ah! Daddy’s calling!

Kim So-Eun took the phone and dashed off to find Siwelin. The camera shook and blurred as she ran through the house.

Finally, the screen settled on Siwelin, who sat beside a peacefully sleeping Bo-Mi. Startled by Kim So-Eun’s sudden arrival, Siwelin raised her head in surprise. When she saw the video call, her eye lit up.

—Are you alright?

Siwelin held up a card with the words written clearly, her expression filled with concern.

Briefly, Kim Do-Joon wondered, “Could the Shanghai incident have been broadcast again?”

"Yeah, I’m fine," Kim Do-Joon replied with a soft smile.

—Daddy, are you hurt?

Looking at Kim So-Eun’s face, he could tell she probably didn’t know about Shanghai events. Siwelin had likely watched alone, shielding the child from any distressing scenes.

With that in mind, there was only one answer he could give.

"I’m fine. When have I ever come home hurt?"

—Lots of times! Remember back then...?

Kim Do-Joon was momentarily speechless.

Back when Kim So-Eun was hospitalized and he still worked as a Gatherer, injuries had been frequent. He had tried to hide his wounds during hospital visits, but there were times when he simply couldn’t.

The memory brought a pang of regret. He felt embarrassed and ashamed for making a sick child worry about him.

But now, things were different. Minor injuries healed quickly thanks to his effects, and he could afford skilled Healers if needed.

“See? I’m perfectly fine."

Kim Do-Joon swung his arm in exaggerated circles to emphasize his point. Reassured, Kim So-Eun let out a relieved sigh.

—Phew. Honestly, Daddy, you’re such a worry.

"A worry? Why’s that?"

—You’re always tripping, getting hurt... You’re not fighting with your friends or anything, right?

Her comment jogged his memory. He probably used that as an excuse back then.

"I don’t fight. I promise.”

In fact, he didn’t have that many people he could call "friends" anyway, other than Hwang Hyun-Woo, at best.

—Really? But people say men are just like little boys, no matter how old they get.

"Huh? Who said that?"

—Si-Ah did!

Kim Do-Joon glanced at Siwelin, who was seated nearby. She averted her gaze, guilt written across her face. Then, she busied herself, petting the still-sleeping Bo-Mi.

Siwelin had obviously said that to entertain Kim So-Eun, but couldn’t she have used a better analogy? Then again, he could not blame her. With his work keeping him away so often, Siwelin had taken on the role of educator at home.

The conversation continued for some time, with Kim So-Eun sharing updates about her day, requesting updates on his, and even insisting he hand the phone to her grandfather.

Eventually, the video call that began in Kim Do-Joon’s room ended in Jecheon Seong’s suite a few floors away.

—Bye bye, Grandpa!

"Alright, take care of yourself.”

—You too, Daddy! And don’t forget my present!

"I won’t.”

Click.

The call ended, and Jecheon Seong returned Kim Do-Joon’s phone.

"So, there’s no emergencies. That’s a relief," Jecheon Seong remarked.

"Yes, it is," Kim Do-Joon agreed.

Jecheon Seong studied him for a moment, his gaze flicking up and down.

"How’s your body holding up?"

Prompted by the question, Kim Do-Joon closed his eyes and focused inward. His awareness dove deep into his body, a process that had become faster and easier than ever before.

The Shadow Lord’s energy seemed to have melded with the ice crystal’s energy. The sheer amount of mana was vastly different and far greater than before.

Stat Runes

- Mana Level 201

What? It’s over level two-hundred?

His mana level had skyrocketed by more than a hundred, effectively doubling his power. Moreover, alongside the mana, a unique energy intertwined with his shadow.

"If I consider everything now at his disposal, I feel incredible," Kim Do-Joon admitted, opening his eyes with a slightly stunned expression.

"Incredible, you say?" Jecheon Seong smirked. "Prove it. Throw a punch."

He motioned for Kim Do-Joon to take a swing. Kim Do-Joon did not refuse. He was curious to test his strength himself, and he knew Jecheon Seong wouldn’t be fazed by anything he could dish out.

"Here I go," Kim Do-Joon warned.

"Go ahead," Jecheon Seong replied.

Kim Do-Joon channeled a moderate amount of mana into his fist and swung it.

Whoosh!

The air rippled as his punch passed mere centimeters from Jecheon Seong’s face.

For a moment, silence hung between them. Then, Jecheon Seong touched his cheek, where a thin line of blood had appeared.

"Well, this is something," Jecheon Seong said, breaking into a grin. "Enough warm-ups. Let’s see what you’re really capable of!" Jecheon Seong exclaimed, springing to his feet.

"Wait, hold on—"

However, it was too late. Jecheon Seong, clearly thrilled, grabbed Kim Do-Joon by the wrist and dragged him out of the room. His destination was the hunter training facility near the hotel.

***

Shortly after, they arrived at the training grounds. However, what greeted him was far beyond his expectations.

The space was packed to the brim with foreign Hunters, all gathered in Shanghai because of the mysterious Branch’s emergence. This alone was not too surprising. What caught him off guard was what was happening in the middle of it all.

"Take this!"

"Oh, shit!"

Baaam—!

The sound of intense sparring echoed throughout the facility.

The Mahal warriors were right in the thick of it, battling foreign Hunters without holding back.

Ah, right...

Exhausted and collapsed, he completely forgot to send the Mahal Tribe back where they belonged. Apparently, instead of staying quietly at the hotel, they had come here and made quite an impression.

With their swords glowing radiantly, the Mahal warriors stood out starkly from the other fighters. Even those not actively sparring were glued to the sight of their battles.

At the center of it all was Shura.

“That’s all you’ve got? You’re from the same species as Mister, and yet you’re this weak?” she sneered.

“Ugh, hey, Jack. What’s this little brat saying?” one of the Hunters grumbled.

“I have no idea. But man, is this kid really this strong? Where on earth is she from?” another replied.

“And what’s with those horns? Some kind of tribal ornament?” a third mused.

Shura, laughing gleefully, darted through the group of Hunters, knocking them down like bowling pins. Though there were stronger Mahal warriors present, her combination of skill and youthful appearance drew the largest crowd by far. Her striking looks certainly did not hurt either.

“She’s quite the star,” Jecheon Seong remarked, crossing his arms with a smirk.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Kim Do-Joon replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

With a hand wave, Kim Do-Joon called out, “Shura!”

“Ah! Mister!” Shura’s head whipped around, and she abandoned her sparring match without hesitation, bounding over to him like an eager puppy.

The other Mahal warriors noticed Kim Do-Joon and gathered around as well. The crowd of Hunters parted instinctively to make way for them, their curious and somewhat wary gazes fixed on Kim Do-Joon.

As the Mahal warriors assembled before him, Kim Do-Joon addressed them, “Thank you for your help earlier. Thanks to you, many lives were saved.”

“It was our pleasure,” Fuad replied with a modest shrug. “You saved us first, after all. We were merely repaying the debt.”

Kim Do-Joon smiled at the warrior’s reply. “Even so, I appreciate it. That said, there are too many eyes here. Why don’t you all head back for now? I’ll come by later so we can talk properly.”

Fuad nodded. “As you wish.”

“Wait, we’re leaving already? But I was just getting started!” Shura pouted. “There are so many interesting people here, and I haven’t even sparred with you yet, Mister!”

“Shura,” Fuad interjected sternly, “the tribe’s rule is clear: once the hunt is over, we return without delay.”

“Fine,” she muttered, dragging her feet.

Chuckling at her sulking, Kim Do-Joon raised his hand and summoned a glowing portal.

“What the—?”

“That’s... could it be the?”

Murmurs spread among the gathered Hunters as the Mahal warriors step into the radiant gateway. The sheer presence of Kim Do-Joon’s unique summoning ability left even seasoned Hunters awestruck.

Once the last of the Mahal had disappeared, Jecheon Seong clapped his hands together.

“Now that they’re gone, shall we get to it?”

“What’s going on now?”

“Looks like something big’s about to happen.”

“Hey, move over, let me see!”

Hunters began forming a loose circle around the pair, abandoning their own training to watch. Kim Do-Joon and Jecheon Seong were famous names, particularly after their joint takedown of the shadow dragon. The prospect of seeing these two spar was far more enticing than any solo practice.

“What are we using?” Kim Do-Joon asked, rolling his shoulders to loosen up.

“Since you’re just getting warmed up, let’s keep it simple,” Jecheon Seong replied, cracking his knuckles. “Barehanded combat.”

With that, the two took their stances, a moment of tense silence stretching between them. Kim Do-Joon inhaled deeply, gathering his focus. Then, with explosive speed, he launched at Jecheon Seong.

***

Pzzz—!

The shimmering portal gradually faded, having expelled all thirty members of the Mahal Tribe. The warriors stared at the vanishing gateway with a mix of awe and reverence.

“This level of sorcery... It’s truly remarkable,” one of them murmured.

“Indeed,” agreed another. “And to think he’s that powerful in combat as well...”

They were right. The strength Kim Do-Joon displayed when he slew the Five-Horned Beast wasn’t luck. To the Mahal, Kim Do-Joon was nothing short of extraordinary.

“For now, let’s return to the village,” Fuad instructed.

“Yes, sir,” the warriors replied in unison, quickly falling into formation.

Their journey home was swift. After all, the portal had opened just at the edge of their village.

“Fuad!”

“You’ve all returned safely!”

The Mahal tribespeople came out to greet them with joyous cheers. They blessed their unscathed return, each face beaming with relief and pride. While the Hunters hadn’t brought back any game this time, not a single person complained. Everyone understood that they had gone to assist Kim Do-Joon, a benefactor of the tribe.

“Fuad,” a voice called out amidst the celebration.

“Yes, Elder?” Fuad turned to see one of the village’s elders approaching. This was the same elder who acted as the chief whenever Fuad was away.

“There’s a guest waiting for you.”

“A guest?” Fuad repeated, surprised.

“Come with me.”

Following the elder’s lead, Fuad made his way toward the largest tent in the village, situated at its center. This tent was typically reserved for important gatherings, such as meetings of the tribe’s warriors or discussions of critical matters.

Pushing aside the tent’s entrance, Fuad stepped inside. His eyes immediately fell upon a group of unfamiliar individuals.

They bore the same distinctive horns as the Mahal, but their attire and accessories were subtly different, hinting at another origin.

“These people are...” Fuad began, his tone tinged with confusion.

The elder, his expression grave, answered, “They are emissaries from a nearby tribe.”