My Auto Cloning System

Episode 77 – The Weight of Nightmares

Kim Do-hyun was sprawled across the grass of a dream that wasn't real. The sunlight above him felt warm, almost too warm, and in his hand was a greasy bag of chips that he lazily dug into. His jaw moved slow, crunching rhythmically, while in the far distance he could see his clones sparring against each other. Number 1 was locked in a messy grapple with Number 4, while Number 5 tried to flank them, all of them sweating and straining as if their existence depended on mastering every technique he had pushed onto them. They fought with urgency, blades clashing and boots stomping across the dirt of the training field, their shadows thrown long under the burning sky.

Do-hyun, on the other hand, tilted the chip bag up and shook the crumbs straight into his mouth. He wiped his hand against his shirt without shame, stretched his legs, and let his back sink deeper into the lazy comfort of doing nothing.

"Ya… you planning to let your clones carry your entire life for you?" The voice cracked across the dream like a whip, sharp and accusing.

Do-hyun turned his head lazily and saw Han Jin-woo standing there. The man's silhouette was dark against the light, his suit too crisp for this dusty training ground, his eyes narrowed with a kind of disappointment that was heavier than anger. He always carried himself like someone who had already made up his mind about people before they spoke.

Do-hyun licked the salt from his fingers and shrugged. "It's all good, hyung. They're working hard. I'm supervising, right? Someone's gotta test the chips industry while they bleed." His grin was half a joke, half an actual excuse.

Han Jin-woo didn't smile. He didn't even twitch. His silence pressed down until the air itself felt like lead. Then he spoke, voice low but cutting, "You're wasting your chance to be one of the best. You think this is a game? You think you can joke your way through life when people are dying every time a gate bursts?"

Do-hyun's grin faltered. He rolled the bag closed and set it aside. "I don't really care about all that 'best hunter' talk. Honestly, I don't. I just wanna make money, enough to keep my family safe. That's it. That's all I ever wanted."

Han Jin-woo's eyes hardened. His voice sharpened. "So that's why you ended up like this, right? Lazy. Aimless. Sitting here while others are out there bleeding. Is that really enough for you?"

Do-hyun opened his mouth, but no words came out. His throat felt dry.

The world around him flickered. The clones fighting in the background suddenly froze, their movements jerky, like dolls with tangled strings. One by one, their bodies collapsed into piles of ash. Do-hyun scrambled up, his heart racing, the chips spilling across the dirt like wasted coins.

From somewhere in the distance, he heard his sister's voice. "Oppa… help me… please…"

The sound cracked him open from the inside. He spun, searching for her, but the field had vanished. He was standing in a hallway now, dimly lit and smelling of antiseptic. Blood trailed along the floor, smeared handprints dragging across the sterile white walls. At the end of the hall lay Kim Chae-min, his little sister, her hands pressed weakly against her stomach, blood seeping between her fingers. Her lips trembled as she tried to form words, her eyes wide with panic.

"Oppa… save me…"

Do-hyun ran, but the hallway stretched like an endless trap, every step pushing her further away. His lungs burned, his legs screamed, but the distance never closed. Her crying grew weaker, fainter, until finally

He jerked awake.

Pain exploded across his body like fire, dragging him out of the nightmare. His breath came ragged and shallow. Every nerve screamed in protest as he tried to move, and a groan slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

"Easy."

The voice was calm but firm. Do-hyun blinked, trying to focus, and saw Han Sen sitting beside his bed. The man was dressed simply, no armor this time, no grandeur, but his presence carried weight all the same. His gaze was steady, his tone almost casual, but behind it was an edge Do-hyun couldn't place.

"You were having a nightmare," Han Sen said. "Don't move too much. Your body's still wrecked. The doctors patched you up, but the damage you took wasn't small."

Do-hyun sucked in a shaky breath, tried to laugh it off, and failed. All he felt was pain — a heavy, gnawing pain that sat in his chest and refused to leave. He sank back into the pillow, sweat dampening his hair.

From the side, another voice chimed in. Won-tae leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his face pulled into that tired, no-nonsense look of his. "The doctor said your condition is pretty bad. That wound was deep enough to kill anyone else, but somehow you're still here. Lucky bastard."

Do-hyun turned his head slowly toward him and whispered, "Thanks." His voice cracked, the word thinner than he wanted it to be.

Han Sen shook his head. "Don't thank me. It was nothing. But there is something we need to talk about. Not now, though. You're still not ready to hear it."

Before Do-hyun could ask what he meant, the door banged open. His parents rushed in like a storm. His mother's eyes were swollen from crying, her hands trembling as she grabbed the side of the bed. His father's jaw was tight, his breathing ragged, as though he had sprinted here.

"Do-hyun!" his mother gasped, relief and panic tangled in her voice. "You're awake… thank god…" Then her words broke, replaced by a choked sob. "But… Chae-min… did we lose our daughter? Did we…?"

Her voice collapsed, and she covered her mouth with her shaking hands.

Do-hyun's heart seized. The nightmare flashed back into his mind — her voice calling him, her hands covered in blood. He forced his body upright, pain tearing through him, but he ignored it. "Where's Chae-min? Tell me she's alive!"

The scene shifted away from his bed. A doctor stood in a quiet room, white coat stained faintly from hours of rushing. His face was calm, but the heaviness in his eyes betrayed him. He addressed the family with careful words.

"The surgery was a success," he said. "We managed to stop the bleeding and repair the damage. For now, her life isn't in immediate danger. However, we must keep monitoring her closely. The wound… it was complicated. She's still recovering."

Do-hyun exhaled shakily. Relief, thin and fragile, spread through his chest. But the doctor's voice hadn't finished.

"How many days since the portal break?" someone asked.

"Four," the doctor answered. "All the major monsters have been hunted down. The Association and the guild elites wiped them out. Only a few low-ranked stragglers remain."

Do-hyun let his head fall back against the pillow. His body still ached, but his mind was elsewhere. His memory was hazy. He remembered the fight, the cursed blade, the monster's strength, his sister falling — but then blankness. He whispered, "I… I don't remember what happened before I passed out. I don't remember anything."

Then his eyes widened. His voice rose, frantic. "Where is my sister? What happened to her? Tell me now!"

Silence.

His parents lowered their heads. Han Sen looked away. Won-tae shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. The weight of their silence crushed him.

"Why isn't anyone talking?" Do-hyun demanded, his voice breaking. "She's here, right? She's in another hospital bed, right? You're hiding her from me. She's alive. She has to be alive!"

The doctor inhaled slowly, his eyes closing as if steadying himself. Then he opened them and spoke with grim finality.

"She survived the surgery. But she was infected… by a mana virus."