Heavenly Copy-Paste Technique

The shadows beneath the ancient pine grove where Jinmu had retreated felt different now, charged with a possibility that hadn’t existed just hours before. He sat cross-legged on the forest floor, his back against the rough bark of a centuries-old tree, staring at his own hands as if seeing them for the first time. The success of creating his first copy had opened doors in his mind that he hadn’t even known existed, revealing potentials within the Heavenly Copy-Paste Technique that staggered him with their implications.

One copy was just the beginning, he thought, feeling the power flowing through his meridians like liquid starlight. If I can create one perfect duplicate of myself, if the technique can map and replicate every aspect of my existence down to the cellular level, then why stop at one? Why limit myself to a single backup when the Palace Master and her people are being held by dozens of professional assassins?

The carved stone pavilion where Danhye Yeoryeong was imprisoned rose in his memory like a fortress built of nightmares. The dozen guards he had sensed, all Expert level or higher, positioned with professional precision to prevent exactly the kind of rescue attempt he was contemplating. Under normal circumstances, a single martial artist—even one at his Peak Master level—would have no realistic chance of fighting through such opposition while protecting prisoners who couldn’t defend themselves.

But these weren’t normal circumstances. And he wasn’t limited to being just a single martial artist anymore.

Twenty copies, he decided, the number feeling right in ways that transcended mere calculation. Each one at Master level, each one possessing all of my techniques and tactical knowledge. That would give us numerical superiority over the guards, plus the element of surprise when they realize they’re not facing one intruder but an entire coordinated assault force.

The audacity of the plan should have been terrifying. Creating a single copy had been exhausting, requiring him to map and replicate every aspect of his own existence. Attempting to create twenty simultaneously would be like trying to hold twenty conversations while solving twenty puzzles and fighting twenty battles, all at the same time. The mental strain alone might be enough to kill him.

But the alternative was unacceptable. The Palace Master was depending on him. The captured Yeonhwa disciples were counting on rescue. And somewhere in the background, Do Giseon was undoubtedly preparing whatever final moves he planned to make in his conspiracy to reshape the orthodox martial world.

I’ve been thinking too small, Jinmu realized, standing and beginning to pace in the small clearing. Ever since I discovered this ability, I’ve been using it cautiously, carefully, always worried about the risks and limitations. But what if the real limitation isn’t the technique itself? What if it’s my own fear of what I might be capable of?

He stopped pacing and extended his consciousness inward, feeling for the pattern of his own existence that he had mapped earlier. It was still there, stored within the technique’s vast capacity like a blueprint waiting to be used. But instead of simply accessing it once more, he began to examine it from new angles, looking for ways to optimize and improve the replication process.

The power distribution problem, he thought, analyzing the energy flows that would be required. When I created the first copy, my Peak Master strength was divided between two forms, leaving each at Master level. But what if that’s not actually a limitation? What if that’s the optimal configuration?

The more he considered it, the more sense it made. A single Peak Master fighter was certainly powerful, but Peak Masters were rare enough that most martial artists had experience dealing with them, at least in theory. Master level fighters, on the other hand, were common enough to be overlooked but still formidable enough to be dangerous. Twenty Master level duplicates moving in perfect coordination would be far more effective than a single Peak Master trying to handle multiple opponents simultaneously.

And there’s another advantage, he realized. If something goes wrong, if some of the copies are destroyed or detected, I’m not losing my full strength. Each copy that falls only represents a fraction of my total capability. I can afford to take risks with them that I couldn’t take with my original form.