My Auto Cloning System

Episode 58 – Final Gate

The early morning air around the dungeon gate was heavy with confusion and tension. A low mist hung near the perimeter fencing, just thick enough to blur outlines and smear shadows. The temporary barricades had been pushed back, and a line of exhausted-looking guards now stood shoulder to shoulder at the entry checkpoint, keeping watch over a jittery crowd of Hunters, scavengers, and amateur rankers who had gathered like moths around a flame.

"Listen, I'm telling you for the last time," barked one of the gate security officers, his voice hoarse from repeating the same line for the last twenty minutes. "Access to the dungeon is restricted until further notice. No exceptions. I don't care what license you've got. You're not getting through."

A skinny man in ill-fitted armor raised his hands in frustration, his posture all bluster and impatience. "Restricted? For what? I came all the way from Suwon to get a piece of this place! Burned two days of vacation for this run!"

A woman nearby, wearing a chipped iron pauldron and two mismatched boots, scoffed as she lit a cigarette with shaking fingers. "Forget that. You're lucky you weren't inside. Word is something came out of that gate. Something that shouldn't have."

The guard turned his eyes away from them as a new noise surged behind him. Something was humming low, metallic, and distinctly unnatural.

The dungeon portal pulsed.

The shimmer of mana began to warp the surrounding air, and in an instant, everyone went silent. Even the agitated Hunters instinctively backed up.

And then it happened.

The gate convulsed.

A blast of pressure radiated outward from the portal's center, scattering dust and pebbles across the concrete. Then something enormous tore through the veil. A wet, fleshy roar tore the silence apart. Out of the swirling gate came the Fishman a grotesque mountain of muscle, scales, and fury, limping violently but with no hesitation in its charge.

It didn't stumble.

It didn't crawl.

It exploded forward, as if it had simply decided to exist here, outside the dungeon's bounds.

One of the guards screamed, "Open fire!"

The soldiers on standby previously casual, leaning against armored vans and mana scanners sprang to life. Rifles rose as trained reflexes kicked in, and within seconds, the air was filled with the deafening staccato of gunfire.

"차단선 유지! (Hold the line!)" someone shouted over comms.

Dozens of bullets ripped through the air, flashing with silver-tipped enchantments. But to the trained eye or anyone paying close attention it was immediately clear that most of the rounds were doing next to nothing. Sparks danced off the creature's thick scale-like hide. The bullets glanced off its shoulders, arms, chest ricocheting like pebbles against steel plating.

"Focus fire on the left shoulder!" someone yelled.

"Left shoulder? Why there?"

"It's the only place with a wound!"

And indeed, it was. Amid the shimmering deflections and bouncing rounds, there was one particular patch on the monster's left upper shoulder an area about the size of a clenched fist where the scales had cracked, revealing purplish, raw tissue beneath.

The soldiers weren't the first to notice.

From a higher elevation near a watch platform, Han Jin-woo stood frozen with his hand still clutching a clipboard, now partially cracked from when he'd squeezed it too hard. His eyes weren't on the gate. They were locked on the creature and on the blur of movement trailing just behind it.

Because while the Fishman was charging forward with murder in its glowing eyes, something was chasing it.

No, not something.

Someone.

A lone figure in tight black tactical gear darted forward along the side of the open terrain, boots thudding against the cracked pavement. It wasn't one of the guards or soldiers. It wasn't a guild member either. The man's face was calm, but his movement was too fluid, too deliberate, like he'd already played this entire scene out in his mind before it began.

It was Kim Do-hyun.

Not a clone.

The real one.

Do-hyun's eyes didn't blink as he sprinted. His breathing was shallow and measured, every step conserving energy, every shift in weight preparing for the perfect moment. In his right hand, he held a simple combat knife nothing fancy, no gleaming blade or custom enchantments. Just a weapon. A tool. A means to end something that should've stayed buried inside that cursed dungeon.

Behind the Fishman, Number One the clone wearing the bloodied hoodie emerged from the portal as well, trailing seconds behind the real body. He had tossed a blade in desperation during the chase, trying to stop the monster's escape.

That blade was airborne now, spinning with a clean arc, aimed squarely at the monster's back.

But it was pointless.

The knife struck, but bounced off again, harmless as a thrown spoon.

The Fishman didn't even react.

It kept charging forward, sword raised, blood-caked and sizzling with corrupted mana, ready to slice through anything in its path.

But Do-hyun had already calculated everything.

He didn't look flustered.

He didn't slow down.

He ran straight toward the falling knife.

And then without stopping he reached out.

With one clean upward sweep of his hand, he caught the blade midair. The momentum of his run continued without pause. It was a move that would've been impossible for anyone lacking Do-hyun's training—or his sync with the clones who had fought this monster for the last brutal hour.

The momentum shifted.

His body twisted.

And then he struck.

In a flash of instinct-guided precision, Do-hyun's arm came down in a sharp, slashing arc. The tip of the blade still covered in grime and blood pierced the open wound on the monster's shoulder.

It didn't stop there.

The knife dug in deeper, carving through the already fractured armor of the Fishman's hide and into the neck joint, where bone met tendon, and nerves gathered in tightly wound bundles. Do-hyun drove it forward, burying the weapon until the hilt touched flesh. It wasn't just a strike. It was a message.

And the Fishman responded with a full-body shudder.

It froze.

The momentum of its charge crumbled, and its massive form staggered forward as if its joints had given out. A strange, guttural noise slipped from its mouth half groan, half confused gasp as if it didn't understand what just happened.

Then its knees buckled.

It dropped, crashing into the ground with a sickening, meaty thud that cracked the surface of the reinforced pavement beneath it.

Do-hyun remained standing, his breathing heavier now but steady. The knife was still embedded in the Fishman's neck. His arm ached from the force of the impact, but he didn't show it. Not yet.

Number One stepped beside him, panting but grinning. "Master," he muttered with awe. "That was some straight-up legendary timing."

Do-hyun gave him a tired glance but didn't answer. His eyes were still fixed on the creature's twitching body, waiting to confirm it was truly dead this time.

Han Jin-woo finally exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

From behind the cordon, some of the watching Hunters began clapping, though most were still too stunned to react.

The soldiers looked between each other, unsure what they had just witnessed.

And then, from the road behind the gate outpost, a new voice arrived curious, calm, and dressed in a sharp slate-gray coat.

"Are we late?"

The man stepped out of a reinforced vehicle bearing the insignia of the Korea Hunter Association's special investigation unit. He adjusted the strap on his tactical shoulder bag and raised a tablet in one hand as he surveyed the scene before him. His colleague, a younger man wearing a standard bureau vest, trailed behind him while squinting in disbelief.

The older investigator continued, raising a brow as he looked at the monster's corpse sprawled in front of him.

"…Wait. That's a Fishman?"

The younger staffer checked his report file. "Yes, sir. Species confirmed. Humanoid aquatic classification. D-rank threat level." He glanced at the file again, double-checking. "Initial dungeon classification was F-rank, but… obviously that's not accurate."

Before the investigator could ask further, another voice cut in from the side. A man in a military uniform, likely part of the perimeter command team, approached them briskly.

"You from the Association?" the officer asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes," the man replied, flipping open his ID with practiced ease. "Baek Min-jae, Hunter Association's Incident Response Division."

The soldier nodded. "Alright. Then you're gonna want to hear this firsthand…"

He gestured toward the monster's body. "A D-rank monster came through the portal. And that F-rank over there is the one who killed it."

Baek Min-jae paused. "…You're saying a team of F-rank Hunters managed to take this thing down?"

The soldier grimaced. "Not a team."

"…What?"

"Just one. Kim Do-hyun. That man. He killed it with his clones."

[To Be Continued ]