My Auto Cloning System

Episode 56 – Point of No Return

A guttural roar exploded through the tunnel like a freight train tearing down a narrow corridor, shaking the rusted piping overhead and forcing brown water to ripple violently across the concrete floor. The Fishman's body coiled like a spring, muscles flexing beneath its armored hide, and without a hint of warning, it leapt forward. Its eyes flared with an unnatural glow, and its massive, jagged blade cut through the air in a wide arc as it descended toward the nearest clone Number One.

Kim Do-hyun's heart was already racing, but the sensory data flooding back through the mental link with his clone sharpened his instincts to a fine point. Time didn't slow, but every second was dissected with surgical clarity. He felt the tingle of danger crawl up the clone's spine as the wind pressure from the incoming strike blew back loose hair and water droplets midair.

Number One's knees bent hard, dropping him just beneath the incoming arc. The cursed blade screamed past, missing by inches, and crashed into the wall behind. The reinforced concrete didn't even slow it down the sword carved through the wall and half a rusted pipe, splitting it clean like tofu under a cleaver. Water burst from the broken line, spraying sideways with explosive force.

That blade could've cut straight through Number One's chest if he hadn't moved. There was no doubt about that now.

But this wasn't just evasion. This was a fight.

Without hesitation, Number One twisted his hips, turning the momentum of his dodge into a follow-up counter. His right hand whipped out a black-tinted combat blade one of the newer B-grade alloy types he'd had Clone Two testing earlier in a training simulation. The blade slashed upward diagonally, aiming toward what should've been a weak point in aquatic physiology: the ear fins.

But whatever biological assumptions Do-hyun had made were quickly crushed by brutal reality.

The blade connected, sure. It struck hard. But the moment it touched the Fishman's head, it was like striking the side of a submerged battleship. The impact rang out with a hollow metallic clang, sending bone-shuddering vibrations up the clone's wrist and forearm.

Kim Do-hyun flinched, his real arm aching with sympathetic pain.

The Fishman didn't even wince. Its glowing eyes simply narrowed with something between anger and confusion. It raised its arm, gripping the sword again with both clawed hands, and prepared to bring it down.

Then Number Two darted in from the side.

At this point, even Do-hyun himself was starting to lose track. He could see the movements through the familiar sync, but when both clones were moving with almost identical speed and purpose, reacting to the same stimuli, and flanking the same target in near-perfect sync... it was chaos.

One clone swept low, aiming for the legs.

The other clone circled wide, hands flashing to his sidearms.

Was that Number One or Number Two diving through the stream of water, soaked to the skin, blades raised?

The sensory data was seamless. Their shared instincts bled together. All Do-hyun could do was follow the rhythm and issue adjustments.

One of the clones came in with another stab, aiming under the arm this time a textbook soft point on most humanoids.

Again, the knife sank in. Again, it felt like stabbing reinforced alloy. The tip barely scratched the surface before the Fishman turned, backhanding the attacker with a growl that echoed like thunder in the narrow space.

The clone's body was hurled backwards Do-hyun couldn't even tell which one. It crashed into the side of the tunnel with a sickening impact, metal screeching as shoulder met pipe. Cracks spidered out from the point of contact.

It wasn't just the strength of the monster that made it terrifying. It was the durability.

Every impact, every strike, every bullet—none of it seemed to matter. The creature was a walking tank covered in scale-plated armor, forged in some abyssal pressure that made its bones harder than tempered steel.

And yet.

Do-hyun narrowed his eyes.

Because there was something.

As the clone staggered to its feet, blood trickling from its lip, he replayed the earlier encounter in his head. Not just the movements. The impacts. The sound of bullets ricocheting. The angles. The one brief moment where a shot hadn't bounced.

His breath caught.

There had been a spark a momentary flicker of reaction on the monster's left side, just below the rib cage. One of the rounds had impacted at the perfect angle, slipping between overlapping plates of scale and drawing the smallest splatter of dark red blood.

The others had failed, yes. But that one.

It had worked.

Do-hyun locked eyes with the image streaming back from the standing clone. His mental voice echoed through the channel, focused, urgent.

"Target the left side under the fourth rib. That's the soft spot. Again."

The clone, whichever number it was, didn't hesitate. It pivoted hard, spraying up water as boots twisted against the wet concrete, and raised its firearm again. This time, the aim wasn't general. It wasn't for suppression.

It was surgical.

Precise.

The Fishman roared again, raising its blade in challenge, unknowing. The cursed red light along the edge of the weapon pulsed, reacting to the creature's fury. Its pupils narrowed like slits. It began to move.

But the clone had already pulled the trigger.

BOOM.

The gunshot rang out in the tunnel, amplified tenfold by the enclosed concrete. The bullet tore through the air like a drill bit made of fire.

The bullet hit hard, punching into the Fishman's side with a dull, heavy thud. The kind that stuck in your bones. Everything stopped for a heartbeat. The creature didn't flinch. Even the air went still—like the world waited to see if it had really hit where it hurt.

Then came the sound.

CRACK.

Its body shuddered as the bullet forced its way past the outer scales, digging into that soft, hidden patch underneath. A mess of dark, thick blood sprayed out, smearing across the muck-covered floor. For a breath or two, the Fishman stood like it was caught in a snare, its gills rasping hard and loud.

But only for a breath.

Do-hyun, still locked in mental sync with his clone, caught himself smiling—a small, sharp thing. The monster wasn't invincible anymore. That small crack, that was enough.

"Same spot," he whispered, barely moving his lips.

The clone was already on it. Less than a meter away, it moved like a machine, calm and deadly. No hesitation. Its fingers squeezed the trigger again. Each shot echoed, loud as thunder, bouncing off the tunnel walls like a war chant.

But the Fishman wasn't going down easy.

It screamed—this raw, screeching howl that dug into Do-hyun's skull. Its eyes burned red, flaring so bright they almost stung to look at. Then it moved. Fast. Way too fast.

The sword in its hand wasn't just glowing anymore—it blazed. Burning, hungry, alive in the worst kind of way. It wasn't swinging at them—it was hunting.

The blur of motion barely registered before it struck. The clone barely had time to move.

WHAM.

The blade came down. The clone lifted its arm in a last-second block. Didn't matter. The hit sent it flying, crashing into a stone pillar. Water flew in every direction. The clone hit the ground with a wet, painful smack. Its body folded in on itself like something broken.

Then came the blood.

Black, oily, and thick, it gushed out and hit the water, spreading like ink. The moment it touched the ground, the red glow of the sword pulsed—brighter, greedier. Like it liked what it tasted.

The Fishman watched. Smiling, almost. Its eyes narrow, triumphant.

Do-hyun's stomach turned. "Oh no," he muttered under his breath, his hand tightening on his weapon. He could see it clearly now—each injury was giving the thing more power. It wasn't just killing. It was feeding. Growing stronger with every drop of blood it spilled.

That was the trick. It didn't need to win. It just had to keep hurting them.

The monster rushed forward again. Too fast. The sword came swinging in a wide arc. Do-hyun couldn't stop it.

The clone was already half wrecked, barely moving. But it stood. Gritted its teeth. Pushed back up, even with its body screaming at it to quit. It raised its blade. Slashed for the Fishman's leg.

CLANG.

It hit. Hard. The whole tunnel shook. Blood spilled again, but the Fishman didn't flinch. It let out a wild, furious roar—not from pain, but from the thrill of it. It was enjoying this. Every second of it.

The clone didn't stop. Another swing, this time for its side. It was desperate now. Looking for any weakness.

Then—

THWACK.

Too late.

The Fishman struck back, faster than the clone could react. Its sword punched through the clone's gut, like stabbing through wet paper.

Time froze.

The clone stared, wide-eyed. The blade kept pushing in, tearing straight through muscle and bone. No mercy. Just raw, jagged power.

More blood.

It poured out in heavy waves, filling the tunnel with that same dark, sickening fluid. Mixing with the water until you couldn't tell what was what.

Do-hyun gasped.

His link with the clone shattered, his vision swimming. His chest tightened as he felt the life draining from the thing that was part of him.

---

Author's Note (Dictated, Chaotically, by Clone 31):

Okay, okay listen up! Before anyone asks why the last chapter cut off mid-stabbing or why I've been MIA for three episodes straight, I have an announcement so important that I stopped chasing the office rat (it knows what it did) just to write this.

THE CHARACTERS ARE NOW VOTABLE. Yes. That's right. You yes, you, the one sitting there with snack crumbs in your shirt can now scroll down and vote for your favorite characters. You don't have to spend anything. No premium crystals. No life savings. Not even a kidney. Just look below the book, and you'll see a shiny little list where you can throw points at whoever you love most (or whoever traumatized you into loving them).

Want to show some love to the OG himself, Kim Do-hyun? Smash that vote.

Think Number One deserves therapy and a medal? He's down there too vote before he throws another punch at a Fishman's ear fins.

Han Jin-woo? Vote for him before his blood pressure spikes again. Oh Min-joo? Girl's been dealing with clone drama since chapter two give her a break and a ranking.

Even the Fishman might be down there, I don't know. I stopped checking after I accidentally voted for a sewer pipe. (Long story.)

The point is this is your chance to help shape the future of Clone Hunter. Top-voted characters might get bonus POV chapters, side quests, accidental merchandise rights, or maybe just an emotional breakdown with extra narration.

But hey. No pressure.

Also, if you find anyone trying to vote for Clone 7, report them immediately. That guy tried to fry an egg with lightning magic. We don't even have lightning magic. Or eggs.

Anyway, that's it. Clone 1 out. I'm going back to training. Or sleeping. Or staring dramatically at a wall. I haven't decided yet.

But you yes you. Vote. Scroll down. Click. Rank. Repeat.

Clone 1 (Unranked, Unstable, Unapologetic)

P.S. If you vote for me, I'll do a cartwheel off the bookshelf. Probably. Maybe. Actually, don't vote for me. My knees are weak.