My Auto Cloning System

EPISODE 67 – When the Sky Fell Wrong

What the hell just happened?

Kim Do-hyun's ears were ringing so hard it felt like the inside of his skull had been stuffed with angry bees. For a second he thought maybe it was another false alarm or one of those hunter livestream pranks where some idiot stages a fake monster appearance. Then the ground shifted under him—like the whole block was trying to tilt him sideways—and that's when the ringing got swallowed by something heavier. Not sound. Not sight. Something primal that made his bones ache like they were begging to run before his brain even caught up.

He blinked through the dust cloud, vision glitching between blurry shadows and bright flashes of orange fire. A second ago there'd been a building in front of him. The cheap noodle shop on the corner. The laundry with the old ajumma who always stared too long. Gone. Not damaged—gone. Like somebody had deleted it from reality and left a wound in its place.

His back was already on the pavement before he even realized he'd been thrown there. Every breath scraped his ribs raw. He forced one eye open.

And froze.

It wasn't some little goblin raid this time. Not the trash-tier dungeon mobs that pop out, flail around for twenty minutes, then get farmed for scraps. Nah. This was—damn. He had to force the thought to finish—Godzilla-level big. Dragon-level mean. No… scratch that. Both.

And somewhere in the mess, he caught a glimpse of a kid he recognized—one of those rookie hunters who'd been bragging earlier about killing some buffed-up fish monster in the harbor. Poor guy. Wrong day to be cocky. He was standing frozen in the middle of the street, jaw slack, as a shadow ten times bigger than a bus shifted over him.

Then the heat hit.

The giant thing—looked like some mutant kaiju with armor plates instead of skin—pulled back its head. Its mouth lit up from the inside like a forge door swinging open.

Do-hyun knew that glow. That was "bye-bye city block" energy.

The beam tore through the street, turning cars into puddles of molten steel and glass. Every window still standing shattered into glitter. The heat punched the air out of his chest.

By the time he could suck in a breath, his gaze had already dropped to the collapsed heap a few meters away. His family.

His throat went tight.

They were all out cold, sprawled on the ground like dolls tossed aside. His sister's hair was matted with dust. His dad's hand was half-curled, like he'd been trying to grab for something before it all went black.

Scattered around them—shredded gear, torn straps, busted weapons—were Number One's items.

Do-hyun's stomach twisted.

The clones didn't exactly "die" the same way a real body did, but when their gear ended up like that… it wasn't a good sign.

Number One had stayed behind. Fought. Shielded them when that first blast came through. And by the looks of it, he'd eaten the hit full force so the rest could still be breathing.

He dragged himself forward through the rubble, knees and palms grinding over glass shards and chunks of concrete. Number Two was still moving—barely. Number Three was there too, but one arm was gone clean to the shoulder, leaking blood that steamed on the broken asphalt.

"Fck…" Do-hyun muttered under his breath. His voice sounded small even to himself.

The air was a mess of smoke and chemical stench, and every second it seemed like a new shadow swept across the ground—something huge passing overhead.

This whole thing had gone to hell in seconds.

Now it was him, one clone missing an arm, another clone who could barely stand, and his family—half-dead and definitely not ready to run a marathon.

Ten seconds ago, his dad had been talking big. "We'll bring everything back to the house, son. We can keep it safe."

Forget the house. Forget the whole damn neighborhood.

A new roar shook the sky.

Do-hyun looked up—and almost wished he hadn't.

The portal wasn't in the street anymore. It was in the sky. A huge, shimmering wound up there, spinning slow like it was savoring the moment. And from it, things were falling. Not climbing out—falling. Like the world's worst claw machine, dropping prizes that wanted you dead.

One massive, scaled hand—green as fresh algae—was already wrapped around a screaming hunter in midair. The monster hit the ground on its feet, crunching a car flat under one step, then raised the guy toward its mouth.

Further down the street, people were trapped under flipped vehicles. Some were still moving. Others weren't. Above that, wings blotted out the clouds—dragons snatching people like snacks, lifting off and vanishing back through the portal before anyone could even scream twice.

It was a damn nightmare zoo with no cages.

Do-hyun's fingers were already working, yanking straps, shoving salvageable gear into his supply bag. His breath came in short bursts—not from panic, but from that sharp, metallic taste in the back of his throat that came when he was burning through mana reserves too fast.

He jammed a chestplate over his sister, cinching the straps until they bit into her arms. She blinked at him through dust and coughed.

"Your clone—he's missing an arm. Is… is he okay?"

Do-hyun didn't look up from tightening the last strap. "Yeah. He's chill."

Another boom rattled the street. This one didn't come from ground level—it was above them.

A shadow rolled over the building's broken frame. Something heavy slammed into the next street over, spraying chunks of asphalt into the air. Do-hyun ducked, dragging his sister down with him.

That's when it clicked.

The portal was high enough that any monster without wings was falling straight down. They were literally dropping like bombs.

If you couldn't fly… you were starting this fight with two broken legs.

Do-hyun had gotten lucky—his floor hadn't been the one shredded when the first wave hit. That luck wouldn't last.

A shape the size of a bus skidded to a stop in the street, chittering, its eyes fixed on him. Do-hyun moved without thinking. Sword out. Strike ability charged.

One slash. Deep. Enough to drop it before it even figured out he wasn't easy prey.

Mana restored. System blinked in his head. Not enough to make him cocky.

He turned toward the stairwell door. Tried the handle. Jammed.

"Dad—move."

His father stepped back without a word. Do-hyun grabbed a chunk of rebar off the floor, flexed his grip once, and let the strike ability roll through his arms.

Bam. The door dented inward with a screech of metal.

He kicked it for good measure, the hinges snapping. They were through.

Downstairs looked worse. Bodies everywhere—some hunters, some civilians. Cars burned slow in the street, their paint bubbling. You could hear the shots of panicked hunters trying to take down things too big for their calibers.

Do-hyun scanned fast. "How far to the nearest shelter?"

His dad's voice was flat. "Two kilometers."

Two kilometers. With slimes oozing in the alley to the left, skeletons marching in broken formation across the park, and two stone golems literally tearing into the corner store like they were grocery shopping.

"Damn," Do-hyun muttered.

His sister's voice was small but sharp. "I know a tunnel. Underground. Could… could be clear."

It wasn't much, but it was a plan.

They moved. Step after step over glass and steel. Breath loud in their ears.

Then—

"Help! Somebody—help!"

The voice cut through everything.

Off to the right, a man was pinned under a concrete beam. His legs were twisted wrong. And above him, perched like it owned the place, was something with too many eyes and teeth that clicked when it breathed.

Its head turned toward Do-hyun.