The clone. Sleeping peacefully in the corner, breathing like a real person.
His green hair shimmered in the moonlight.
It was real.
All of it.
Jin covered his mouth and cried.
Then smiled.
The moonlight slipped through the cracked window as Jin sat beside his sleeping body. The clone—his new self—had green hair, green eyes, a sharp jawline, and smooth skin. Even asleep, it looked strong, confident. Beautiful.
His old body, lying in bed, was still. Round. Plain. Weak.
Jin had spent the last few days switching back and forth, learning how the system worked.
> [Clone Body Active: Original Body Sleeping.]
[If Clone Dies, You Return to Original Body Immediately.]
It was clear: the clone was the fighter. The one meant to live the life he never had. And the system kept guiding him forward.
He opened the system screen with a thought.
> [Skills Acquired:]
1. Clone Body – Level 1
2. Predator – Passive: Gain one ability from every person you kill.
That second one had appeared only a day ago.
He hadn't expected it. He had been walking through the slums when a man tried to mug him—weak, clumsy, using a cheap flame spell. Jin panicked and struck back with a metal pipe. The man hit the ground and didn't move.
Then, the screen had appeared:
> [New Skill Acquired: Minor Fireball]
(Source: Target killed via Predator.)
Jin froze in place, staring at the message.
He held out his hand. Focused.
A small flame appeared, floating above his palm like a flickering candle.
His heart raced.
"Real… it's real…"
The power of a superhuman—from a single kill.
And the system said every kill would give him one ability from his target.
It was random, sure—but he didn't care.
One was enough.
---
The next few nights were restless.
Jin spent them in the clone body, walking the rooftops of the old city, staring down at the glowing windows and fast-moving cars. He practiced the fireball spell and thought about the future.
Not the future of Jin the orphan.
The future of Jin the clone.
He could fight. Steal. Kill. Become powerful. Become someone important.
Then came the news.
---
It was a TV in a shop window.
A silver-haired reporter interviewed a young man dressed in black uniform, standing beside a shimmering blue portal.
The boy's name flashed on the screen: Yeong-ho.
Jin stopped walking.
His mouth fell open.
Because the face on the screen—
That was his face.
Green hair. Green eyes. Sharp jaw. Smooth skin.
It was the clone face. The one Jin had created.
Someone like that already existed?
It didn't make sense.
He ran home and checked the news archives, social feeds, anything.
Yeong-ho was a minor celebrity. The only son of a wealthy, powerful family. He had awakened an A-Rank body-enhancement ability. People said he was cold, disciplined, distant.
His parents were never in the country. He trained alone. Lived mostly without attention.
Jin stared at the photos.
It was like looking into a mirror.
Or… like his clone body had been copied from Yeong-ho without realizing.
It gave him an idea.
A dangerous, dark idea.
---
"If I kill him…" Jin whispered in the empty church room, "I can take his place."
He stood in front of the cracked mirror, wearing a long coat that hid his clone body's features. His green eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
"I already look like him. If I say I lost my memory… no one will question it."
He imagined walking into that mansion. Wearing Yeong-ho's clothes. Sleeping in his bed. Living his life.
He clenched his fists.
"After all those years of being nothing… why can't I take what I deserve?"
He didn't feel guilty.
He felt alive.
---
And so he waited.
Days passed. He studied Yeong-ho's movements from the shadows. With the clone's speed and strength, it was easy to follow him without being seen.
Yeong-ho trained during the day and entered dungeons at night. Always with a quiet driver who waited at the edge of the zone.
Then, finally—
One night, Yeong-ho entered a private dungeon through a gate near the city's edge.
Alone.
No teammates. No cameras. No security.
Jin grinned.
This was it.
This was his chance.
The dungeon gate shimmered like a pool of silver water in the alley. The air around it pulsed with mana, sending a low hum through the ground.
Jin stood across the street, watching.
Yeong-ho had just stepped inside.
The driver, a tall man in a black suit and sunglasses, leaned against a sleek black car, arms crossed. He didn't look nervous at all. That was the kind of confidence people like them had. Powerful. Rich. Untouchable.
Jin clenched his jaw and ducked behind a dumpster.
His heart beat faster with each second.
"This is it."
He waited fifteen minutes, maybe more. The driver stayed by the car, still and calm.
Then Jin moved.
He sprinted across the street, heart pounding, and stepped into the gate.
---
The world shifted.
Colors blurred. Pressure slammed into his ears like water filling his skull. Then, suddenly, he was standing in a forest lit by purple sky.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
He crept forward, past glowing trees and thorned vines, his breath shallow. He hadn't expected this place to feel so real. The air was thick with magic, buzzing against his skin.
And blood.
He smelled it before he saw it.
The moment Jin stepped into the clearing and saw the body, everything inside him went still.
Yeong-ho lay on the cold dungeon ground, his chest torn open, blood soaking into glowing moss. His lifeless eyes stared at the violet sky above the twisted forest canopy.
But Jin couldn't look for long.
The man who killed him stood just a few feet away.
Tall, lean, and wrapped in a gray cloak, the assassin wiped his dagger on a cloth. His face was hidden beneath a dark mask, and his fingers were calm, practiced. He turned slightly toward the body again—
And froze.