Life Rebooted with Copy and Paste

The faint sound of papers flipping filled the air. Drake Harden reviewed the documents in his hands, focusing on the data about Yoon Si-Ah, an S-rank Healer from South Korea. Her career record was unimpressive, especially compared to the extensive history listed in Kim Do-Joon’s files. However, that did not seem unusual to him.

“After all,” Drake Harden mused, “a skilled Healer is a rare and valuable asset. Even with limited experience, someone verified could easily earn the S-rank designation.”

South Korean Healers were particularly renowned, even boasting a Healer-exclusive guild called Mir. However, something about Yoon Si-Ah lingered in Drake Harden’s mind.

Where have I seen her before?

He studied her photo. Though young, she was undeniably beautiful by human standards, albeit his non-human perspective saw beauty differently.

Nevertheless, his sharp memory had limits. He had encountered countless faces, and the diversity of human appearances made it difficult to distinguish them.

Maybe I just passed by her, Drake thought, dismissing the concern, and tossed the document aside.

Just as an aggressor would easily forget about their victim, he had long since let go of any thoughts about Siwelin. To be more precise, he had no desire to dredge up the buried memories.

Dwelling on Yoon Si-Ah was a luxury he could not afford. He wanted to go see Kim Do-Joon, the one who had killed Mel Sior, but unfortunately, that was not possible right now. Therefore, he hoped that Kim Do-Joon would come visit him instead.

It’s time.

He gazed through the massive glass window behind his desk, taking in the sprawling cityscape and the roots of the World Tree scattered throughout.

Then, a change caught his attention. With a faint shimmer, a root began to crumble and vanish. It was a dungeon that had been cleared the day before. The massive root embedded in the city was disappearing, returning to nothingness. Drake Harden’s sharp eyes tracked the scene intently.

***

Bababam—!

A fiery explosion shattered the silence, unleashing chaos.

“Aaargh!”

Undead soldiers disintegrated by the dozens as Number One unleashed a devastating spell. The Lich collapsed to the ground like a lifeless puppet, completely drained of energy.

Number One’s chest heaved as he gasped for breath. The battle had been intense. On several occasions, Kim Do-Joon had nearly intervened, worried for Number One’s safety. Yet, against all odds, Number One had vanquished the Lich and his undead army alone.

“Well done,” Kim Do-Joon said with a satisfied smile on his face.

Despite the precariousness of the fight, the victory was significant. The Lich had commanded an undead army, yet Number One triumphed.

But why is the dark mage stronger than the Lich? Kim Do-Joon pondered.

The Lich should’ve been powered by the Death Spirit Lord’s authority.

The power he used to create Number One came from the Shadow Lord’s authority, yet his own was stronger.

Could it be because the Shadow Lord is originally stronger than the Death Spirit Lord? Or could it be due to the copy-paste skill that I used?

Was he stronger because he’d used the old man’s power to reclaim divine authority? He had yet to grasp the old man's full power, leaving him uncertain.

Suddenly, the Lich, still embedded in the ground, jerked his head up and unleashed a torrent of necromantic energy.

“I’ll take you with me!”

Then, without hesitation, he channeled all his remaining mana power into a self-destructive explosion. It was a technique that no other Lich had dared to use.

Kim Do-Joon froze in shock, but before he could react, Number One swiftly moved in front of him. It was too late to cast a spell strong enough to counter the blast. Moreover, his mana reserves were almost depleted. Yet, he had to protect the King!

For my king...

Number One thought, steeling himself for the oncoming blast. He had no regrets—his existence belonged to the one who created him.

“Stay out.”

Kim Do-Joon’s calm voice cut through the chaos.

He grabbed Number One by the shoulder and yanked him back with surprising strength. Stumbling, Number One found himself behind his master. From Kim Do-Joon’s arms, a small slime leaped forward.

Kim Do-Joon stepped forward, drawing his spear. The incoming mana storm curved and dissipated as he swung his weapon, redirecting the explosion harmlessly to the side.

Boom—!

The earth beneath them bore the scars of the explosion, but the area where Kim Do-Joon and Number One stood remained untouched.

Number One blinked in astonishment. Though he remained expressionless, his widened eyes betrayed his shock. Kim Do-Joon rested the spear on his shoulder casually and looked at Number One.

“I appreciate your loyalty, but don’t do something reckless like that again.”

Humbled, Number One fell to his knees, bowing deeply.

“My king... Forgive me for my arrogance.”

Kim Do-Joon sighed, waving him off. “Go rest for now. You’ve earned it.”

After sending Number One back into the labyrinth, he turned his attention to the battlefield. The undead army’s remnants and the Lich’s shattered remains lay scattered. Extending his hand, Kim Do-Joon absorbed their lingering energy.

Afterward, he studied the map and made his way to the next location. Two days later, he had explored every region marked on the map. His forces had grown stronger, now boasting ten dark mages under his command, each a formidable asset.

***

At the workshop of the tenth Lich, Kim Do-Joon transformed every undead and the Lich into shadow soldiers. Having done this countless times before, the process felt effortless.

The number of undead roaming the Grassland had exceeded ten thousand. While most of these were Skeleton-class soldiers—essentially cannon fodder—there were more elite units among them than he had expected.

What excited Kim Do-Joon the most, however, was the addition of ten shadow mages to his ranks. They were black mages of a caliber rivaling Archliches.

Kim Do-Joon himself had not grown stronger, but having more "hands" to manage his battles and strategies was a game-changer.

Once he secured his shadow army in the labyrinth, Kim Do-Joon perched himself on a large rock and spread out a map.

Looks like it’s time to head beyond the map’s edges.

Initially, he had planned to return to the village before venturing further, but his expedition had progressed way faster than expected. What he had thought would take a week had taken less than three days. As such, he had enough time to explore uncharted territories.

Kim Do-Joon lit a campfire and chewed on some jerky as he pondered his next move. The idea of venturing into the unknown excited him, but the decision was not so simple. The wilderness beyond the map was vast, and choosing the wrong path could leave him wandering through desolate plains or returning empty-handed.

Huh?

As he deliberated, a sudden presence snapped him from his thoughts.

Someone—or something—was approaching. The energy radiating from them was immense, unlike anything he had sensed from Liches or other creatures of the dungeon.

Kim Do-Joon’s expression hardened as he focused on the rustling bushes ahead. Whoever it was, they were not trying to hide their presence. If anything, their movements seemed designed to avoid provoking hostility.

Moments later, the foliage parted, revealing a figure.

“Oh my,” a soft voice rang out.

The speaker was a woman, clearly of the Mahal Tribe, with delicate antlers adorning her head. Unlike the rugged, tribal attire he had seen on other members of her kind, this woman wore a pristine white toga adorned with elegant, intricate patterns.

She smiled faintly as her large eyes met Kim Do-Joon’s.

"I noticed that all the Liches in this area have disappeared," she said, her tone light but curious. "Would you happen to know anything about that?"

Kim Do-Joon remained silent, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

Her smile wavered only for a moment before she clapped her hands together, realization dawning on her face.

"Oh, where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Laoha, leader of the Mahal Confederation," she said gracefully.

Her words made Kim Do-Joon’s eyes flash with interest, though his reply was curt.

"Just a passing traveler," he said, his voice calm yet guarded.

***

Kim Do-Joon and Laoha walked side by side, heading beyond the forest. Having a guide, especially one as knowledgeable as Laoha, was an offer too good to refuse. After all, he didn’t know the terrain, nor did he have a map

His gaze drifted toward her as she walked slightly ahead. Laoha was a high chieftain who ruled over a coalition of countless tribes—a queen.

Yet, to Kim Do-Joon, she seemed more than that.

The Holy Spirit Lord...?

The aura she exuded was unmistakable, eerily similar to what he had sensed from Mel Sior. There was a warmth to her presence, reminiscent of sunlight on a spring day.

He recalled the third labyrinth, the Collapsed Temple, where he had rescued Siwelin. The god's aura there matched Laoha’s perfectly.

Their god was called the Sun God Laoha.

The name was too much of a coincidence to ignore. Perhaps in this otherworldly realm, no one would notice, but Kim Do-Joon did.

He had anticipated encountering someone like her eventually, but not so soon.

“You carry the power of the World Tree,” Laoha said suddenly, glancing at him. “You’re not from this world, are you?”

“No,” Kim Do-Joon replied casually.

There was no reason to hide it.

“How did you end up in such a remote dimension? And where are you originally from? Not just anyone can cross dimensions, so you must be quite powerful,” she spoke casually, as if it was a mundane affair.

Kim Do-Joon chuckled inwardly, not at her words but at himself. He had changed—once, such a conversation would have baffled him. Now, it felt almost routine.

“I arrived by chance while training,” Kim Do-Joon replied simply.

“I see,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. “Have you met any of my people before?”

“Yes.”

“And? What did you think of them?”

“They were strong,” Kim Do-Joon said, pausing for effect, “and kind.”

Laoha beamed, clapping her hands together in delight. “I knew it!”

Her reaction reminded Kim Do-Joon of someone basking in the praise of their life’s work. He watched her, unbothered and emotionless, as she reveled in his words.

They continued exchanging small talk as they walked. Then, after a brief pause, Laoha hesitated.

“Um...”

“Hmm?” Kim Do-Joon looked at her, his expression unreadable.

“Did I... say something to upset you?” she asked, rubbing her forehead as if trying to ease her own tension. “You’ve been scowling this whole time.”

Her words made Kim Do-Joon pause. Only now did he realize that his brow had been creased since they started walking. The reason for his expression was not hard to guess.

Could it be because of Siwelin?

Kim Do-Joon didn’t know why the Holy Spirit Lord, the Sun God Laoha, would descend to this realm and pose as a queen. However, he knew she was the God Siwelin had worshipped.

How could he ever forget about what Laoha had done to her devout follower? When Siwelin was struck by an arrow imbued with the Death Spirit Lord’s aura, Laoha had forsaken her. No, not just her, but the entire world she governed.

There was probably a reason—perhaps even one that justified Laoha’s actions. Nevertheless, he had witnessed the torment Siwelin endured as a ghoul. He couldn’t find it in him to feel positively about Laoha.

Still, I need to stay composed...

She was the Holy Spirit Lord, a being of immense power. Therefore, just as with Mel Sior, he needed to stay calm, detached, and strategic. Personal feelings could wait.

“Oh, we’re here,” Laoha said suddenly, pointing ahead.

Kim Do-Joon followed her finger, his eyes landing on a sprawling settlement in the distance.

It was enormous, easily large enough to be called a city, and every structure gleamed in pristine white.

***

Who is this man?

Laoha kept a cheerful smile on her face as they approached the city, but her mind was racing.

A mysterious man had appeared in her domain, effortlessly eliminating the Liches who had become a persistent thorn in her side. By that alone, he did not seem like an enemy.

However, if he had been sent by them—her so-called "siblings"—then there could be no forgiveness.

The pleasant warmth she radiated, the serene demeanor she displayed, were all a carefully constructed facade.

Deep inside, her heart burned red with hatred.