Life Rebooted with Copy and Paste

The battlefield was filled with ten thousand soldiers. Though outnumbered, their disciplined ranks and fierce gazes overshadowed the shambling, chaotic undead army. Leading them were the enigmatic black mages.

“What... are those?”

Herdin's eyes twitched with disbelief. Those were neither part of the Mahal Tribe, nor the undead. But that didn’t make any sense! After all, the world was supposed to have nothing but the Mahal and the undead.

Kim Do-Joon lazily curled his fingers in a beckoning motion. The soldiers behind him surged forward, their unified steps thundering across the battlefield. As they charged past, the force of their movement brushed against him while his sharp gaze swept the field.

Herdin clicked his tongue in annoyance and roared, “Tsk. Attack!”

The undead army began its counteroffensive, surging forward like a relentless tide. Soon, the two forces clashed at the front lines.

Swoosh!

Clang!

Boom!

The sounds of flesh being torn, metal striking metal, and the earth trembling filled the air.

The shadow soldiers hacked and stabbed at the ghouls. The undead, generally weaker in strength and coordination, were cut down in droves. However, the only way to send the dead back to death was to tear them to pieces.

As such, the shadow soldiers’ advance was slowed, giving the undead a slight edge, but not for long. Burst of fire and ice streaked across the battlefield. The black mages cast their spells, wreaking havoc among the undead ranks.

Herdin watched the battlefield devolve into chaos, making a quick assessment.

This isn’t a disadvantage. We can still win this.

The two forces seemed evenly matched, but the numbers were on his side. At this rate, victory seemed inevitable.

The problem, however, was the black mages. Even at a glance, their magical prowess was at least equal to, if not greater than, his Liches.

Well then... we’ll deal with them first.

At his gesture, Liches and Death Knights broke off from the main force and moved in coordinated groups toward the black mages. The first team encountered a mage known as “Number Four.”

Having just unleashed a massive spell, Number Four was catching his breath. Suddenly, a Death Knight charged at him with a colossal two-handed sword.

Whoosh!

Sensing the attack, Number Four quickly prepared a counterspell. However, before he could complete it, the magic unraveled, dissipating into the air. His eyes widened at the Lich behind the Death Knight, staff raised to disrupt his casting.

“Tsk.” 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Clicking his tongue in frustration, Number Four dodged the oncoming blade, narrowly avoiding being cut in two.

Boom!

However, the Death Knight stomped heavily, closing the gap in an instant. Its massive sword swung down to cut Number Four’s head off.

Just before the blade connected, a figure wreathed in flames leapt from the Flame Totem perched on Number Four’s shoulder. They effortlessly deflected the Death Knight’s sword with a spear, before crushing the opponent in a single blow.

In panic, the Lich desperately cast a spell, but the fiery figure ended its life just as quickly.

Number Four stared, his eyes even wider than before. He turned to identify the mysterious savior, but they were already gone. He did not need to see them to know. The aura left behind was unmistakable—the power of the one who had granted him new life.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Kim Do-Joon was already at another black mage’s side, eliminating Death Knights and Liches with ruthless efficiency. He appeared and disappeared with uncanny speed, his interventions turning the tide wherever he went.

This is going well.

He had given each black mage a Flame Totem beforehand, granting him a real-time view of the battlefield and allowing him to act with precision and decisiveness.

Hmm... We’re slightly outmatched...

However, it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

The Flame Totem’s feed alerted him to another black mage under attack. It was Number One, one of the most familiar presences to Kim Do-Joon.

In an instant, he was at Number One’s side.

Boom!

However, before he could intervene, Number One had already handled the situation.

“Keugh...!”

“Keuk...”

The black mage defeated both the Death Knight and the Lich with practiced ease, then straightened his posture, chest puffed out with pride.

“Well done,” Kim Do-Joon said with a faint smile.

Though Number One’s face remained impassive, the slime perched on his shoulder bounced up and down, clearly delighted by the praise.

Kim Do-Joon turned his attention back to the battlefield. He moved to another hotspot, aiding his forces wherever they began to falter. With ten Flame Totems and his own sharp instincts, he processed and acted on eleven points of information at once, maintaining the balance.

Last but not least, his side had one more trump card.

“Uoooh!”

“Let’s go!”

“They’re on our side!”

The Mahal Tribe had arrived.

Initially regarding Kim Do-Joon's army with a mix of bewilderment, fear, and caution, they soon shifted their stance. They had been convinced he was an ally.

Their swords, brimming with radiant white mana, cut through the undead with ease. Those struck by their blades didn’t rise again. Their sheer martial prowess was leagues beyond what the undead could contend with.

Small groups of Mahal warriors began rampaging through the undead ranks, tearing holes in the once-impenetrable formation. The tide of battle shifted rapidly. The undead forces were crumbling, their ranks riddled with breaches.

Boom!

Herdin slammed his fist into the armrest of his throne-like seat, his fury palpable.

“What in the world is going on!” Herdin roared.

At first, the reports were manageable. He received the news that the Liches stationed at the mountain pass had been wiped out. While alarming, Herdin had considered it a tactical loss. Surely, the enemy had expended significant resources to deal with those scattered Liches.

However then, this enigmatic black force appeared, sweeping through the battlefield like a storm. If anything, the enemy’s power had only grown exponentially.

It’s not her.

He did not think this was one of Laoha’s schemes. The shadow soldiers' aura was nothing like hers or the Mahal Tribe’s.

Then who?

“Who are you?! How dare you interfere with our great mission!” Herdin’s voice cracked with frustration as he shouted to no one in particular.

“You don’t need to know.”

A voice, cold and sharp, sliced through the air like a dagger—it was right by his ear.

“What!?”

Herdin froze, his unbeating heart lurching. Before he could react, a hand closed around his throat.

Kim Do-Joon had appeared without warning, as if he had materialized from the ground itself. Herdin’s eyes bulged in shock, and the high-ranking undead around him recoiled in disbelief.

“Kill him! Kill him now!” Herdin shrieked, thrashing in Kim Do-Joon’s grasp.

Screaming for help was all he could do. And so, his underlings charged forward, their grotesque forms moving to obey.

Seeing that, Kim Do-Joon tightened his grip slightly, his gaze cold and unyielding. The sheer force of his aura caused the attackers to falter mid-step.

“Fools!” Herdin barked, his voice still steady despite the crushing pressure on his neck. “Even if I die, our lord will bring me back! So, kill him now!”

Tsk.

Kim Do-Joon clicked his tongue. Unfortunately, the undead had no need for breath.

Emboldened by their master’s words, the undead subordinates’ eyes glinted with resolve, and they charged with reckless abandon. All that mattered was destroying their foe.

Kim Do-Joon’s eyes narrowed.

“Fine,” he muttered. “You’ll make good materials.”

A shadow pooled beneath his feet, spreading like an inky flood toward his attackers.

***

Meanwhile, there was a strange occurrence in the bustling heart of a Pennsylvania city. A Root that had been wreaking havoc was rapidly fading.

Drake fixed his eyes on the vanishing phenomenon. If anyone else were there, they’d have been alarmed by the intricate mana circle spinning within his pupils.

“Huh?”

Suddenly, Drake blinked in startled confusion.

“What’s wrong?” one of Mercenary Guild’s members, lounging nearby, asked casually.

“Nothing,” Drake replied, shaking his head.

“What the...” the guild member scoffed, dismissing him with a wave.

However, Drake’s brow furrowed deeply as the mana circle in his eyes faded away.

What was that?

His mind raced, unable to shake the unease. Moments ago, the presence of his subordinates had disappeared without a trace.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Drake spoke in a low voice, tinged with disbelief.

This would only be possible if his sister had captured them and subjected them to her purification rituals. However, even that was unlikely, because she’d taken significant damage in their last dimensional encounter. She wouldn’t have enough strength left.

What’s going on?

Drake started to panic, his expression growing more severe. This current task was important, but it was already nearing completion. Over the decades of his life as Drake, he had never failed to finish what he’d started.

However, the other matter was still ongoing. He couldn’t afford to abandon it, especially when it involved his sister.

“I have urgent business to attend to,” Drake said curtly to his guildmate.

“Huh?” the guild member asked, confused by the sudden announcement.

Ignoring the question, Drake swiftly made his way back to his base. With long strides, he entered the chamber and approached the door—a portal branching out like the limbs of a massive tree.

It was the path to Caldera. He pushed open the door and stepped through. His instincts told him something was terribly wrong and what he saw confirmed it.

“This is...”

Half of his undead army lay decimated, scattered like broken toys. The remaining forces were locked in a fierce battle against the Mahal Tribe. And at the very center of the chaos stood a figure cloaked in deep, menacing shadows.

“Aaaagh!”

“No! Please, forgive me!”

Drake’s subordinates were being swallowed whole by the dark figure’s shadowy abyss. The scene was horrifyingly familiar.

This... this looks like... Mel...

The power radiating from the figure was almost identical to that of Mel Sior, a man long dead. However, when Drake’s gaze settled on the figure, he realized it wasn’t Mel Sior.

Instead, it was the man whose face he had seen countless times on news broadcasts and guild reports. Kim Do-Joon, the Hunter of South Korea.

Huh? Why is he here?

Drake froze, unable to hide his shock. Kim Do-Joon was supposed to be a human from Earth!

Before Drake could make sense of it, Kim Do-Joon’s sharp gaze locked onto him. The South Korean Hunter was equally dumbfounded.

Drake from the U.S.?

Kim Do-Joon’s mind raced. Drake was world-renowned as the strongest Hunter alive—a man so powerful that other Hunters seemed like children in comparison.

Why is he here? This isn’t Earth!

Two men who had no business being in the same place, now standing face to face in the most unexpected of circumstances.

However, their silent standoff didn’t last long.

Boom!

A deafening roar tore through the battlefield as something massive hurtled toward them. It was Laoha, her bloodshot eyes blazed with fury as she scanned the battlefield. Then, her sharp gaze landed squarely on Kim Do-Joon.

“Mel Sior!” she screamed, full of rage and hatred.

Her bared teeth glinted as she snarled at him, radiating killing intent.