CHAPTER 49: EPISODE 49 – A SHARPENED BLADE

EPISODE 49 – A SHARPENED BLADE

For an entire month, Kim Do-hyun had buried himself in training with a focus that bordered on obsession. Every single hour of every single day had been orchestrated with precision—no wasted steps, no unearned breaks, no excuse strong enough to interrupt his schedule. His clones weren’t just sparring anymore; they had evolved into elite soldiers under a single mind. While most Hunters burned out trying to balance muscle memory, theory, and field instincts, Do-hyun had taken the unorthodox route of splitting those burdens across three tireless copies of himself. A solution so effective, it almost felt like cheating.

Now, inside a cramped but well-lit apartment filled with exercise mats, protein wrappers, dumbbells, and stacks of empty meal containers, Kim Do-hyun sat cross-legged on the floor, a Bluetooth earpiece jammed into his left ear. His other hand rhythmically bounced a tennis ball off the wall and caught it again.

The call connected.

A familiar voice rang through the earpiece, sharp with humor and caffeine:

"Yo. It’s your favorite overworked WN rep. You alive, rascal?"

Do-hyun let out a breathy laugh, catching the tennis ball one last time and setting it aside.

"Barely. You sound like you’ve been babysitting goblins all week."

"You’re not that far off," Han Jin-woo replied. "But forget my misery for a second—how’s the clone circus? You break anything? Anyone?"

"Nothing that didn’t heal." Do-hyun’s voice carried a calm undercurrent, a contrast to his usual sarcasm. "Actually... everything’s been a massive success."

Han Jin-woo paused for a second, then asked with genuine interest, "That so?"

Do-hyun stood up, stretching his arms behind his back, the tension crackling out of his shoulders.

"I can shoot now. Like, for real. Not just spray and pray. I’m talking consistent hits from twenty meters. And I didn’t even go to a shooting range myself."

"...You used the clones again?" Jin-woo asked, already knowing the answer.

"Number 2 and Number 3 drilled marksmanship for two weeks straight. The moment I synced with them, the muscle memory passed back. My grip improved. Breathing got instinctive. Hell, I even correct my stance without thinking now."

Han Jin-woo let out a low whistle. "Every time you get another clone, you’re basically stacking processors. The more you have, the faster you evolve. It’s freakish, man."

"Freakish is what I’m aiming for," Do-hyun said, grinning as he opened his system interface and scrolled through his stats. A faint blue glow shimmered across his retina as the augmented data fed back into his vision.

"Look at this," he added. "Strength? Doubled. Reflexes? Off the chart for my rank. My speed stat actually broke into the mid-C tier. I’m not even close to my limit yet."

"I’m gonna be honest with you," Jin-woo muttered, "if your power gets any better, I might actually get a little scared."

"You should be," Do-hyun replied, half-joking. "That’s why I need your help."

"...Oh no. What now?"

"I want three new hunting fields," Do-hyun said plainly.

There was silence for a full three seconds. Then Jin-woo exhaled as if someone had hit him with a blunt object.

"Three?" he echoed. "As in one-two-three? You want triple bookings for dungeon entry permits?"

Do-hyun tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Yeah. You said the Agency was expanding their training zones, right? One for cardio, one for leg power, one for upper body resistance. I’ll assign a clone to each. I just need legal entry. And equipment. And enough food for three grown men training like draft animals."

"You know what this sounds like, right?" Jin-woo grumbled. "It sounds like I’m your equipment manager and grocery boy."

"And I’m your ticket to record-breaking stats, Agency headlines, and a potential contract with the Jumper," Do-hyun shot back. "Fair trade, isn’t it?"

Jin-woo groaned, but he was already pulling up field access on his end.

"Fine, fine. I’ll make it happen. Tomorrow night work?"

"Perfect."

"...You better not make me regret this," Jin-woo said, but the smirk in his voice betrayed his pride. "Keep this up and you might actually crack the top rookie list."

Do-hyun ended the call without another word. He had already moved to the other side of the room and was pointing at three clones standing shoulder to shoulder in training gear. They looked just like him—same build, same hair, same tired but determined eyes—but each of them gave off subtly different energy now. They had developed small quirks in posture and speech, but more importantly, they had grown faster, smarter, and more efficient.

He pointed at Number 1.

"Upper body hypertrophy. No excuses. Hit the resistance cables and climb until your arms beg for mercy."

Number 1 nodded once. "Understood. Will push until structural breakdown and rebuild."

He then pointed at Number 2.

"You’re on lower-body mechanics. Sprint ladders, frog jumps, staircases, whatever the hell makes your quads scream."

Number 2 gave a mock salute. "Leg day every day. Got it."

Finally, he turned to Number 3.

"You, cardio endurance. Treadmill, terrain run, hell even swimming laps if you can find a clean pool. Build that stamina base."

Number 3 cracked his neck and gave a smirk. "I’ll run like I’m being chased by rent collectors."

Do-hyun narrowed his eyes. "Be back before midnight. And drop those weapons before you go. No accidents. I swear if one of you ends up in a news headline again—"

"We get it, we get it," Number 1 said, already peeling off a weighted vest and tossing it on the couch.

The clones vanished one by one, each sprinting into the night in a different direction, moving with speed that would have made a professional Hunter’s jaw drop. They had gear, prep, and full autonomy. What they did in the next six hours would directly feed back into Do-hyun’s main body—no filter, no loss. Just pure efficiency.

Once the apartment grew quiet again, Kim Do-hyun sat back on the couch, leaned forward, and booted up his aging laptop. A web browser opened to WebTube, the video site that most casual civilians used to watch entertainment, gossip, and memes.

But Do-hyun wasn’t looking for distractions.

He typed "Hunter combat analysis – tier A+ and above" into the search bar and began combing through field footage. Most of the clips were raw, uploaded by guild interns or drone recorders. Blurry in places, loud with wind interference or crowd cheers. But the content was gold.

There was a slow, focused gleam in his eyes now.

He watched an A-Rank Hunter flip a wyvern mid-air using a spear and grappling hook. He studied a lightning-type mutant baiting a Rift Wolf into attacking shadows instead of his body. He replayed a slow-motion breakdown of a two-man team that cleared a collapsed tunnel full of camouflaged creepers using only movement timing and vibration sensors.

But what struck him wasn’t how advanced these tactics were.

It was how familiar they felt.

He leaned closer, narrowing his gaze as he paused one clip where a flame-using Hunter rotated his wrist and shifted footwork to create a breathing rhythm mid-attack.

Do-hyun muttered to himself, "That looks just like what Number 3 did last week..."

That was when it clicked.

Most of these so-called elite techniques weren’t some kind of supernatural mastery. They were just patterns—replicable, repeatable patterns built off human movement and timing.

And his clones had already started performing them, without instruction.

They just had to see it once.

That was all it took.

Do-hyun’s mind began to spin. He could feel it—the weight of something bigger forming behind his eyes. If a clone could watch a pattern once, analyze it instinctively, and immediately adapt it into real-time combat...

Then theoretically...

They could learn anything.

Any technique. Any tactic. Any form.

So long as it was physically possible for a human being...

Then the clone could replicate it.

And once the clone knew it—

He knew it.

He began drafting a plan on paper, lines connecting video titles to training objectives, notes scrawled about aerial maneuver testing and flash-step positioning. The room was quiet except for the scratching of his pen.

Because right now, Kim Do-hyun wasn’t just training anymore.

He was building a manual to break the limits of human learning.

---

📜 AUTHOR’S NOTE — Written by LYTA Clone 6 🔧 (Currently Trapped in an Elevator with a Bag of Chips)

Okay listen, I don’t know how this happened but I’ve been stuck in this elevator for two hours now, and the only thing I have with me is a half-eaten bag of seaweed chips and a questionable bottle of soda. If I die here, tell the real LYTA to avenge me — or at least bury me with a Wi-Fi signal.

Meanwhile, the actual LYTA is probably in some underground bunker somewhere making graphs about clone reaction speeds or trying to convince a cat to wear a tiny Hunter mask. Standard stuff.

Anyway, while I wait to be rescued by someone competent (not looking at you, Clone 3), here’s your reminder that supporting this novel makes the clone army stronger than ever:

✅ SMACK that LIKE like it’s a wyvern trying to eat your stats

✅ COMMENT — tell us who your favorite clone is, or just yell "Clone Rights!"

✅ GIFT — even a little helps us afford clone protein powder

✅ GOLDEN TICKET — it resets monthly, don’t let them go to waste!

✅ UNLOCK future Chapters with PRIVILEGE — flex your timeline

✅ SHARE this novel with your dog, your party, your emotionally unavailable rival

✅ REVIEW — just one sentence helps boost our stats

✅ SUGGEST something wild — clone with nunchucks? I’m listening!

Your support keeps Do-hyun evolving faster than common sense can catch up. See you in the next episode... if I survive.

– LYTA Clone 6

(Currently negotiating with the chips for dominance.)