Life Rebooted with Copy and Paste

Kim Do-Joon rushed over, moving faster than he’d ever been, driven by instincts. He pulled Kim So-Eun into a tight embrace from behind, his heart pounding.

“Ah! Daddy!” Kim So-Eun exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

When she realized who it was, her face lit up with joy. “You’re back!”

“Y-yeah, I’m back. Are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?” Kim Do-Joon asked, full of concern.

Kim So-Eun tilted her head slightly in confusion, unsure why her father was acting this way. Ignoring that, Kim Do-Joon quickly examined her small body all over for any signs of injury.

Fortunately, aside from some dust on her clothes, she seemed unscathed.

Phew...

Kim Do-Joon let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Oh, you’re back,” a voice called out casually.

It was Jecheon Seong, who leisurely approached them. Kim Do-Joon looked at him, his face a mix of confusion and suspicion. If Kim So-Eun had been hurt, his expression would’ve been grimmer, but seeing that she was perfectly fine, his concern shifted.

“What were you doing with a kid?” Kim Do-Joon asked, his voice firm.

“What do you think? We were training,” Jecheon Seong replied calmly.

“Training?” Kim Do-Joon echoed, still unsure.

Jecheon Seong explained further. Despite managing to correct Kim So-Eun’s twisted energy flow to some extent, there was only so much he could do externally.

He compared it to a fingerprint. While the general framework was the same, each person’s energy flow had an unique pattern with varying details. This was especially true for a growing child like Kim So-Eun. Her body needed to naturally adjust and correct itself.

To facilitate this, the best method was to have the patient actively engage in the correction process. After administering the necessary emergency measures, the next step was to have Kim So-Eun participate in exercises that’d allow her body to untangle the twisted energy on its own.

It was a remarkable technique, one that could only be described as a divine skill. The exercises guided the patient to perform the most optimal movements, maximizing their natural healing abilities.

Then again, this was Jecheon Seong they were talking about—someone capable of such feats.

“Ah, I see...” Kim Do-Joon said slowly, processing the explanation.

After listening to the explanation, there was no reason to be angry, especially since he hadn’t been upset to begin with—just startled by the unexpected scene.

Jecheon Seong chuckled, sensing Kim Do-Joon’s lingering anxiety.

“I understand your concern. I should’ve explained it to you beforehand.”

Kim Do-Joon shook his head. “It’s fine. I get it now. It’s just...”

He understood the necessity of the training, but still had a problem accepting it. Seeing his six-year-old daughter sparring with a wooden sword, even if it was a small one suited to her size, wasn’t something he could easily overlook.

“Does she need to do this regularly?” Kim Do-Joon asked.

“It’d be beneficial if she did it whenever there’s time,” Jecheon Seong replied.

“In that case, could you make sure I’m around for the training sessions? It’s just... I’m worried...” Kim Do-Joon admitted.

Jecheon Seong nodded in understanding. If Kim So-Eun were ten years old or older, he’d consider it overprotective.

He might have even said, “Let the child be. They’ll grow up just fine on their own.”

Besides, it wasn’t uncommon for children in the martial world to start training at a young age. Nevertheless, even by those standards, Kim So-Eun, who was only six, was still very young.

As such, it was only natural for a parent to be concerned, especially considering she’d been bedridden until recently, weakened by illness. When Jecheon Seong had first seen her, she appeared healthy on the outside, but her condition had been delicate.

"Alright, then. I'll talk about this when you're less busy. Let's call it a day for now," said Jecheon Seong with a faint smile, nodding toward the child.

Kim Do-Joon glanced down at Kim So-Eun, who was nestled in his arms. Her bright eyes were fixed on him, sparkling with curiosity.

He wasn’t particularly tired from the day’s journey and had some free time now. However, it was obvious from the way Kim So-Eun looked at him that she wouldn’t be able to focus on the training session any longer.

“Let’s head down,” Kim Do-Joon said, and with that, the family of four began their descent from the mountain.

That night, Kim So-Eun was brimming with questions, full of curiosity. She clung to both Kim Do-Joon and Siwelin. Although he couldn’t tell her everything, Kim Do-Joon answered her questions with a carefully crafted version of the truth—where they had gone, who they had met, and what they had done.

Kim So-Eun was especially captivated by the tales of the Baku Tribe, albeit he didn’t mention the word “monsters,” and the fire-breathing dragon. She listened with wide eyes, as if she were hearing a fairy tale.

“And so, the dragon had a daughter and...” Kim Do-Joon began to say, when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

It was Siwelin.

— So-Eun is sleeping.

“Hmm?” Kim Do-Joon looked down and saw that Kim So-Eun had already drifted off, breathing softly.

Between the exertion from earlier on the mountain, and the fact that it was well past her usual bedtime, she had fallen asleep quickly. After all, she had been so excited to see her father after such a long time.

Kim Do-Joon chuckled softly and draped the blanket over Kim So-Eun.

Then, he turned to Siwelin and said, “Thanks for all your help.”

— Oh, it was nothing.

Siwelin replied with a modest smile, but it wasn’t nothing. She hadn’t played a significant role during their encounter with Shin Yoo-Sung’s expedition team. Although her healing abilities weren’t needed much toward the latter part of the journey, she had contributed in many other ways. For instance, she had volunteered to take care of the group’s meals while they were staying in Vulcanus’ territory.

“Get some rest. You must be tired,” Kim Do-Joon said.

— Goodnight.

— – o –

Siwelin responded, adding a playful “-o-” at the end of her message.

Kim Do-Joon blinked, slightly amused.

What’s that at the end? Is that a smiley face or something? When did she start using those cards?

With a faint smile, Kim Do-Joon watched as Siwelin quietly slipped into the bed next to Kim So-Eun. Then, he turned off the small bedside lamp and quietly left the room.

The familiar scent of herbs greeted him as he walked into the dimly lit shop. In the quiet darkness, Jecheon Seong sat at a table, waiting for him.

“Come, have a seat,” Jecheon Seong said, motioning to the chair across from him.

Wordlessly, Kim Do-Joon sat down and opened his inventory. He pulled out the herbs that had been gathered by Sallyon, each infused with the essence of fire.

Jecheon Seong examined the herbs in silence. He knew Kim Do-Joonwent to retrieve them to treat Kim So-Eun, so no further explanations were needed. As he inspected the herbs, his expression gradually darkened, his brows furrowing.

“There’s not much here that’s useful,” Jecheon Seong finally said, his tone tinged with disappointment.

By his standards, none of these herbs could be considered true elixirs. They wouldn’t be able to clear a single blocked meridian, let alone cure Kim So-Eun’s condition. At best, they might provide a slight boost to her energy, but that was all.

Considering the time and effort spent on this journey, the results were underwhelming. Jecheon Seong understood, of course. True elixir was rare and difficult to find, hence the name.

“I suppose this is it, then?” Jecheon Seong said, though his tone betrayed a hint of frustration.

Jecheon Seong had also been deeply invested in finding a cure. After all, it wasn’t just any illness, but the very condition that had plagued him in his youth, ultimately claiming his older brother’s life. For him, it was personal. He couldn’t allow himself to be defeated by the same illness that had taken his brother.

Just as he was about to resign himself to the lack of progress, Kim Do-Joon spoke up.

“There’s one more thing.”

Jecheon Seong looked up, intrigued. Then, Kim Do-Joon extended his hand, and in his palm, a different kind of energy began to gather—hot and pulsating, unlike the cold mana that usually resided in his heart. A flame appeared, dancing above his hand.

“What is that...?” Jecheon Seong’s eyes widened in shock.

For the first time since arriving in this world, he was truly astonished.

***

The next day, at the same spot, Jecheon Seong and Kim So-Eun were engaged in their practice session again. It was the same exercise as before.

“Hiya!” Kim So-Eun shouted, her small voice filled with determination as she swung her tiny wooden sword.

Despite her age, the strike was sharp and surprisingly powerful. While it couldn’t compare to the force of an adult, it was extraordinary for a six-year-old. Jecheon Seong easily deflected her strike.

The rules of their sparring were simple: if Kim So-Eun’s sword touched Jecheon Seong, she won. Jecheon Seong never attacked. The point of the exercise was to align her energy flow, not to improve her combat skills.

“Ah!” Kim Do-Joon, watching from the sidelines, was still visibly tense, unable to hide his concern.

Jecheon Seong clicked his tongue and chuckled. Seeing a grown man so anxious over a simple practice session amused him. A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes, reminiscent of his younger days.

Let’s see...

While playfully deflecting Kim So-Eun’s sword, Jecheon Seong made a sword feint toward her.

Immediately, Kim Do-Joon flinched, about to jump in at any moment. Jecheon Seong, with his mastery, easily changed the trajectory of his sword mid-swing, avoiding any real threat to the child. It was effortless for him. He wasn’t using his full strength, anyway.

However, every time Jecheon Seong added these little feints, Kim Do-Joon’s anxiety spiked. He would stand up, sit back down, and even take a step forward as if he were about to intervene.

Tsk tsk... If he’s like this now, what’s he going to do in a few years when the training gets more intense?

Kim So-Eun was still young, so the training wasn’t too intense yet. But in just a couple of years, the training would get much tougher. Still, Jecheon Seong found his reaction entertaining. The normally stoic Kim Do-Joon only showed such visible concern when it came to his daughter.

Maybe this is enough for today.

Jecheon Seong thought after a few more playful exchanges. He decided to ease up, feeling a bit sorry for teasing Kim Do-Joon so much.

Just then, Kim So-Eun’s wooden sword came flying in from an unexpected angle.

“Hiya!”

For the first time, Jecheon Seong was genuinely surprised.

Huh?

The strike, which lacked real power and speed, wasn’t a threat for him. It also lacked the deadly intent seen in real combat. Of course, since Kim So-Eun was just playing, swinging her sword as if it were a game.

Yet, the trajectory of her swing was remarkably complex for a child’s play. With more strength, speed, and size, that strike could have easily overwhelmed a mediocre warrior.

Kim Do-Joon’s eyes widened as he recognized the skill behind her movement, while a faint smile played on Jecheon Seong’s lips.

Martial talent.

It was something Jecheon Seong knew well. After all, it was the same innate ability that had allowed him, a once-simple scholar, to rise to the position of the young master in the most powerful sect, the Divine Sect, in Zhongyuan within just five years. And now, he saw that same talent reflected in this young girl before him.

It was a strange feeling, seeing what he’d once seen in himself in someone else. There was a difference between realizing your own potential and witnessing it in another.

Thwack.

Even though he could’ve easily blocked it, Jecheon Seong let Kim So-Eun’s strike land on him.

“Oh dear, it seems I’ve lost,” Jecheon Seong declared.

“Yay! I won! Daddy, I won! Did you see? Wasn’t I great?” Kim So-Eun exclaimed, beaming with excitement. She ran to Kim Do-Joon, sweat gleaming on her forehead.

Kim Do-Joon chuckled, gently brushing aside the hair sticking to her forehead.

“Yes, you were amazing,” Kim Do-Joon said, having clearly seen her final strike as well.

Kim Do-Joon had heard enough stories from Jecheon Seong to know that those afflicted with Absolute Meridians often possessed exceptional talents. However, witnessing this potential firsthand in Kim So-Eun left him with mixed emotions. Still, he knew it was a good sign—talent, after all, was always a blessing.

Watching the father and daughter, Jecheon Seong smiled. Despite not having been in this world for long, he could tell these two were far from ordinary. The daughter bore the rare and dangerous Absolute Meridians, while the father possessed both the energies of Yin and Yang.

Jecheon Seong recalled the fiery energy Kim Do-Joon had displayed the previous day. Even through the lens of his own mastery of Nine Yang Demon Art, he recognized that this wasn’t a common power. The fire was too pure, too clean to be a typical human aura. After all, it was a power granted by a spirit, a force of nature itself.

Moreover, this fiery energy coexisted so harmoniously with Kim Do-Joon’s inherently cold internal energy. Although the two forces didn’t blend to create a synergistic effect, their coexistence was a testament to Kim Do-Joon’s unique constitution. A less skilled practitioner would have faced severe danger trying to merge such opposing forces.

"Sir, let's wrap up here for today. I have some things to take care of this afternoon," Kim Do-Joon's voice broke Jecheon Seong's train of thought.

"Ah, yes. Of course," Jecheon Seong replied, snapping out of his reverie.

He remembered that Kim Do-Joon had mentioned an appointment.

Who was he meeting again?

"I'm meeting the Association President. I also need to check in with some of the team members who went on the expedition with me," Kim Do-Joon explained.

After returning from the Stem, he had messaged Son Chang-Il, the Association President, who immediately requested a meeting. No doubt, Son Chang-Il was eager to hear about the events in the Stem firsthand.

As the head of the Association, Son Chang-Il had a packed schedule, but he especially made time for this meeting. Kim Do-Joon also planned to meet with Hwang Hyun-Woo and Seok Dae-Kyung to handle various procedural issues, including discussing their payment.

"Go on, then. Don’t worry about the child," Jecheon Seong assured him.

"Are you going out again, Dad?" Kim So-Eun’s face fell into a pout as she looked up at her father.

He had only just returned, and now he was leaving again. Kim Do-Joon gently patted her head.

"I'll be back soon. How about we have something delicious for dinner tonight?"

With that promise, the three of them made their way down the mountain together.

***

In the Guild Master’s office at Karma Guild, Oh Tae-Jin was immersed in his work. Although some time had passed since his return from the Stem, there was still much to be done.

Beep—

Suddenly, the phone on his desk rang and he answered.

"Yes?"

— H-Hyung...

It was his younger brother, Oh Sang-Jin. Originally entrusted with scouting duties for the guild, Oh Sang-Jin had been sent away after causing several incidents. Oh Tae-Jin had ordered him to stay put and get out of trouble.

“What’s up?” Oh Tae-Jin asked.

— ...

His brother could be heard nervously gulping on the other end. Oh Sang-Jin sighed quietly so that his brother didn’t hear. He was far from being a bold person after all.

— Well, uh... something strange happened down in Haenam, and I thought I should report it to you...

Then, Oh Tae-Jin suddenly remembered that instead of home, he’d dispatched his brother to a remote region in the South. After all, if he were to stay in Seoul, there was no saying he wouldn’t cause more troubles. So, he’d sent Oh Sang-Jin to lie low in a quiet, rural area.

— But there's nothing there right now, is there?

Haenam, located at the southernmost tip of the South Korean Peninsula, had become a desolate wasteland. Five years ago, when an S-rank Gate had appeared, all the residents had been evacuated to other areas.

An S-rank Gate was a dungeon of the highest difficulty, a challenge even now for any nation, and five years ago, it had been even worse due to less advanced combat techniques.

However, that S-rank Gate had been cleared since then. Haenam was now a barren land, littered with remnants from the Gate raid, like barricades, makeshift forts, and temporary buildings. No one wanted to return to what had once been a hellish battlefield.

"Why? What’s going on?" Oh Tae-Jin asked, puzzled.

— Well... it might be nothing, but...

What followed was a report that, on its own, seemed too vague to understand fully.

— A huge tree has suddenly sprung up there, overnight.