Life Rebooted with Copy and Paste

Bang!

"How is that old man still alive?!"

On the rooftop of the Mercenary Guild's building, a man clutched his head in frustration. The evening shadows consumed the space, and no lights were on. It was Ushas, who had barely managed to escape from Kim Do-Joon.

This makes no sense.

Ushas’ eyes narrowed. It was impossible and completely absurd that his father was alive!

I killed him. I made sure of it. I even confirmed the dead body.

On the day of the grand plan, he and his brothers defeated the old man and split his immense power. Yet somehow, their father had returned!

"Damn it!"

Ushas kicked his desk in frustration, full of rage. His concern wasn’t the old man’s return but the emergence of someone who could reclaim his power—that alone was enough to terrify him.

As his thoughts spiraled, a phone rang amid the debris of the broken desk. Somehow, it had survived the blow. Ushas crouched down and answered the phone.

—This is the Director of the Information Management Bureau!

A panicked voice shouted from the other end.

Ushas sighed, his tone indifferent. “So what?”

— What do you mean, ‘so what’? Don’t you understand what’s happening? If you’re answering this call, you must still be at the guild’s headquarters...

Ushas scoffed and glanced out the window. From his vantage point, he could see the chaos consuming the heart of New York City below. It was pandemonium.

From the rotten Roots he’d revived, the undead swarmed the streets in unprecedented numbers. They rampaged through the city, destroying everything in sight—civilization, humanity, everything.

Furthermore, this wasn’t just happening in New York. Any major city of notable size across the globe was in the same state.

Everything Ushas had done over the past decade as Drake had been building toward this moment.

Though I wasn’t planning to unleash it so soon...

Originally, this plan was set for four or five years down the line. However, circumstances had forced his hand. Now, there wasn’t a moment to waste.

—Drake, please. Help us save the country! The President himself has requested your aid. With you and the Mercenary Guild, we can protect our people!

The Director’s voice was urgent but respectful which was a calculated move. Hunters in the U.S. were legally obligated to defend the nation during a crisis, but the Director still phrased it as a request. It was a testament to Drake’s reputation and influence.

Unfortunately for him, Ushas had no intention of doing that at all. Naturally so—why would he help suppress the chaos he himself had caused?

He spoke into the receiver with a disinterested tone.

“Well I’m sorry, but that’s not happening. The Mercenary Guild is finished.”

—What...? What do you mean?

“Our main forces are wiped out.”

The sound of the Director’s breath catching on the other end was audible. If the man were here in person, his reaction would have been even more dramatic.

The building was a scene straight out of a nightmare. Corpses were strewn everywhere—inside the Guildmaster’s office, down the hallways, across the stairwells, and even in the lobby. The entire Mercenary Guild headquarters had become a tower of death.

—W-what are you saying? Explain yourself...!

The Director’s voice was cut short by a loud crunch. Ushas had crushed the phone in his hand, reducing it to a useless heap of plastic and wires. The broken phone clattered to the floor.

Click.

Ushas snapped his fingers. Then, a dark, oppressive death aura surged forth like a waterfall, cascading down from the top floor of the guild building all the way to the ground level.

—Graaah...

—Aaaah...

The corpses of Hunters began to stir, one by one. Their lifeless eyes rolled aimlessly as they rose from the dead.

"Go to the airport. Kill anyone who comes through."

Whoosh!

Thus, the undead elite Hunters vanished into the shadows. Their speed and precision were exceptional, a testament to the formidable power they once wielded in life.

But that wasn’t all.

A robed subordinate had appeared silently, kneeling before Ushas to give a report.

—We’ve confirmed all the flowers have been activated.

Ushas nodded, satisfied. The spell to resurrect the Roots buried around the world had been fully realized.

"Good. Now go and gather as many forces as you can."

—Gather them? What do you mean?

“Plans have changed. Scrape together everything we have and station them at the airport! There’s a chance a plane might arrive from Korea. Whatever it takes, stop it!”

—...Understood.

This was a sharp deviation from the original plan, which was to destroy critical infrastructure and slaughter humans indiscriminately to expand their undead legion. However, the subordinate didn’t question the change. To him, Ushas’ will was absolute.

“Also, relay this to our forces in Korea. Tell them to block all access to the airport.”

—As you command, sir.

The robed figure disappeared, leaving Ushas alone in the guildmaster’s office. The room, now eerily silent, reeked of death. Ushas stared out the window, idly biting his fingernails.

This move would buy him some time. With the undead overrunning airports in both Korea and the U.S., normal flights would be impossible. Meanwhile, the activation of the global flowers had revived countless Death Roots, plunging the world into chaos.

But now what?

He had delayed the inevitable as much as he could. No single person could quell the chaos ravaging the world. The routes by which his enemy would arrive were blocked, but this was a temporary solution.

As the weight of the situation pressed down on him, Ushas muttered to himself, “Now what? What else can I do?”

What else would there be? I should just run.

His decision was made, so Ushas opened the window and leaped out. The building was several hundred meters tall, a height that would terrify most, but Ushas didn’t flinch.

Whoomph!

A massive Bone Dragon emerged from the darkness, catching him mid-air. It was slightly smaller than Samir, but no less imposing. The beast turned and soared inland, away from the airports and the growing chaos.

Basking under the pale moonlight, the dragon carried Ushas through the cold, night sky.

***

The scenery blurred as it sped past. Sensing the magnitude of the crisis, Kim Do-Joon had hoisted Siwelin onto his back and sprinted out of the house. His destination was the kindergarten where his daughter, Kim So-Eun, was.

Swoosh—!

From her perch on his back, Siwelin fired arrows of light at every undead that crossed their path. Each arrow carried potent divine energy, and the creatures dissolved instantly upon impact.

Meanwhile, Kim Do-Joon spoke into his phone, holding it with his free hand.

—I found the reason!

From the other end, came Son Chang-Il’s voice.

“You did? What did you find out?”

—The flowers.

“Flowers?”

Kim Do-Joon frowned in confusion at the unexpected word.

Sensing his puzzlement, Son Chang-Il continued, his tone grave.

—You’ve heard of the flowers that release spores every year to Awaken new Hunters, haven’t you? There’s something unusual about their mana signature. It’s resonating with the dead Roots, reviving them.

“I see.”

Kim Do-Joon’s thoughts began to align. He recalled hearing that Drake had traveled to every corner of the world—not just major cities but even remote, dangerous regions, like Africa. Drake was known for sharing hunting techniques and strategies with local Hunters, often without asking for anything in return. He’d even personally clear dungeons for them.

Could it be...?

After the new discovery, those actions seemed deeply suspicious. What once appeared to be a benevolent act now seemed like a calculated move. Were they in preparation for this moment?

The more Roots were destroyed, the stronger the impact when revived all at once.

As the Death Spirit Lord, Drake’s power was rooted in the dead—be it people, monsters, or Roots. To someone like him, the dead held far more value than the living.

“Then, to stop this crisis, we have to destroy the flowers,” Kim Do-Joon concluded.

—Yes, but there’s a problem...

Son Chang-Il agreed, but then his voice faltered, followed by a sigh.

“What kind of problem?”

—The flowers we’re talking about... They’re the ones that awaken new Hunters each year. Every time they bloom, a surge of new Hunters appears. If we destroy them then...

“...I guess no more awakened Hunters,” Kim Do-Joon finished the thought.

—Exactly. So many people oppose this solution for that reason.

Kim Do-Joon’s expression darkened. The ethical dilemma was clear. Destroying the flowers would save countless lives but halt new Hunters' emergence, risking future vulnerability.

Still, could they allow the current catastrophe to spiral further out of control?

A moment of silence passed between them, albeit the noise in the background never ceased. On one end, people scrambled to devise countermeasures for the crisis; on the other, Kim Do-Joon was racing toward the kindergarten while dispatching undead one by one.

“You remember what I mentioned earlier?”

Amid the chaos, their silence broke.

—Earlier? About what?

“The plane to the U.S. What’s the status on that?”

—It hasn’t been arranged yet... Wait, are you serious? Are you actually planning to go to America in this situation?

“The culprit behind this crisis is Mercenary Guildmaster Drake,” Kim Do-Joon stated flatly.

The word "culprit," paired with an unexpected name, made Son Chang-Il’s breath catch.

Drake? He’s the one behind this? How does Kim Do-Joon know? Did he anticipate this all along? Have there been secret dealings or tensions between him and Drake?

Questions swirled in Son Chang-Il’s mind, each one demanding immediate answers. However, instead of voicing his concerns, he simply replied.

—Understood. I’ll arrange a private jet.

Uncovering the truth behind Kim Do-Joon’s claims could wait. What mattered was resolving the situation as quickly as possible.

If Kim Do-Joon had decided to go after the culprit himself, then there was no need for further debate. The trust he had earned through countless battles left no room for doubt.

“Thank you.”

— Head to Gimpo Airport. I’ll handle the rest.

With that, the call ended.

The next destination was set. After stopping by the kindergarten, Kim Do-Joon would head straight to the airport. Picking up speed, he pushed forward.

Aren’t we there yet?

The academy was still a considerable distance away—normally a drive’s length. Even with Kim Do-Joon’s superhuman speed, he hadn’t run long enough to fully cover the distance.

It’ll be fine. The academy has plenty of strong Awakeners.

Kim Do-Joon tried hard to calm down. The academy housed instructors who could hold their own against active Hunters. It wouldn’t fall easily, even under sudden attack.

Although it did not completely ease his anxiety, it helped him focus. He began mentally organizing his next steps.

The first thing in his mind was to reach the academy. Once close enough, he could teleport inside using Flame Totem to check on Kim So-Eun’s safety. Afterward, he would find Jecheon Seong and entrust his daughter and the academy.

Then, he would be off to the U.S. to confront Ushas. Kim Do-Joon’s plan was clear, but there was one more task he needed to address.

“Siwelin.”

Tap.

At the sound of her name, Siwelin lightly tapped his back, asking silently, “What is it?”

Without slowing his pace, Kim Do-Joon asked in a low but steady voice.

“Will you come with me to America?”

“You’ve heard earlier that Drake is responsible for this disaster, right?”

From behind, came the faint sound of Siwelin scribbling on her cards. A moment later, she held one up in front of his face.

—Do you require my power to destroy the undead?

Kim Do-Joon hesitated. It was a fair question. Siwelin’s divine power was highly effective against undead, and having her by his side would undoubtedly make the task easier.

However, the truth was, he didn’t need her. He was more than capable of handling the situation alone.

Siwelin tilted her head, puzzled by his lack of response. Kim Do-Joon exhaled softly. It was time to say what he had left unsaid back at the house.

“Drake isn’t from this world,” he began. “His real name is Ushas. Or, as you know him—Death Spirit Lord.”

At his words, he felt Siwelin tense on his back.

“He’s the one who destroyed your world.”

Siwelin became rigid. Ushas—the one who had reduced her home into ashes, who had condemned her to centuries of torment as a ghoul—was here.

The card and pen she had been holding slipped from her hands. As they fell, the speed at which Kim Do-Joon ran made them vanish into the distance almost instantly.

Kim Do-Joon did not say anything further. The reason he had asked Siwelin to accompany him wasn’t about strategy or necessity.

Do you want revenge?