My Auto Cloning System

Episode 82 – Baptism by Beating

Kim Do-hyun stepped into the chamber and immediately froze, his sneakers squeaking against the reinforced tiles of the underground training hall. The place looked less like a gym and more like a private war zone. Every wall was padded with combat runes that pulsed faint blue, absorbing sound and impact. The air smelled faintly of iron and disinfectant, that mix of sweat and blood that never fully washed away, no matter how many times janitors scrubbed.

Across the room, Han Sen was already suited up. His armor wasn't the flashy chrome kind you saw in Hunter commercials. No, his gear looked practical, black and matte, scratched across the chestplate like it had seen years of fights he barely survived. His gloves were fingerless, hands wrapped so tight the veins bulged against the skin. The man looked like he had crawled out of the kind of dungeon that ate whole teams alive.

Do-hyun tilted his head. "Uh… bro. That's it, huh? You're all strapped up, geared like you're about to raid the damn apocalypse. And you're here? Training? In this sketchy basement?" He squinted at the walls, then the glowing sigils on the floor. "Wait—what place even is this? You trying to impress me or bury me?"

Han Sen didn't answer right away. He tightened the strap on his gauntlet, then finally looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, not from lack of sleep but from pressure. The type of pressure a man carried when his sister's life was counting down like a bomb clock.

"You already know," Han Sen said, his voice hoarse. "The faster a rescue happens, the better the odds. But we're not rushing."

"Not rushing?" Do-hyun blinked, pointing a finger like Han Sen had confessed to eating soup with a fork. "Bruh, your sister's stuck in a dungeon and you're telling me this is—what—a tea break?"

Han Sen's jaw clenched. "She'll survive. Her ability ensures it. It creates supply caches. Food. Water. Basic medicine. She can hold out for eight months, maybe longer if she conserves. She's resourceful."

Do-hyun scratched the back of his neck. "Eight months. Damn. That's either a miracle ability or the most depressing camping trip ever." He whistled, then caught Han Sen's glare and coughed into his fist. "…Right. Not the time."

Han Sen stepped closer, the floor echoing under his boots. "Second thing. That dungeon is high-tier. Too high. Even a team of B-rank Hunters barely made it to the mid-floor before collapsing. None escaped alive."

That silenced Do-hyun. His grin faltered, and for the first time since entering the hall, his gut twisted with something heavier than jokes.

Han Sen's voice dropped lower, almost a growl. "You don't get it. You're too weak for this. You've got instincts, sure. That so-called battle sense of yours? Impressive. But you're leaning on it like a crutch. And it's already maxed out."

Do-hyun blinked, then barked out a laugh, half disbelief, half defense. "Wait, wait, hold up. You're telling me—me, the man who survived five near-deaths, hustled guild contracts, and tricked half the Yolo Guild into thinking I was a B-rank on loan—"

"—you're still weak," Han Sen cut him off flatly. "And you know it."

The words hit harder than any punch. Do-hyun's smirk held for a second before collapsing like wet paper. He tried to reply, but all that came out was an awkward chuckle. "Damn. That was… direct. No filter. Respect, I guess."

Han Sen walked toward the center of the hall. The runes lit up brighter under his steps. He raised his fists. "There's only one way to fix this."

Do-hyun tilted his head, half-nervous, half-curious. "Fix this… as in…"

"As in, you endure."

Han Sen didn't wait for consent. His body blurred, years of dungeon reflexes snapping into play.

"Woah, woah, woah—" Do-hyun's protest cut short as Han Sen's fist came flying.

The impact didn't land square on his face; Han Sen wasn't aiming to kill. It slammed into Do-hyun's guard, which still rattled his bones like someone had dropped a steel beam onto his arms. The air cracked with the sound. His sneakers skidded backward across the floor.

"Sh—! You serious?!" Do-hyun stumbled, shaking out his arm. His bicep burned like fire, nerves buzzing from the shock.

Han Sen's lips pressed into a grim line. "Endure it. That's the shame of this world. No shortcuts. No cheats. Endure."

Then the real beating began.

Han Sen's punches came in like hammers, fast but precise. Every blow rattled Do-hyun's ribs, shoulders, and gut. He tried to guard, tried to pivot, but his timing lagged. His brain screamed at him to deploy a clone, but he hesitated. Using clones here felt like disrespect, like pulling out a knife in a spar meant to teach him something.

The floor groaned as Do-hyun got slammed into it, his back arching with pain. His lungs gasped for air, vision flashing white around the edges.

"Damn, bro, I thought we were friends," he wheezed, coughing spit. "You're hitting like I owe you rent money!"

Han Sen didn't slow down. His sweat dripped onto the floor as he pressed the assault, each strike heavier than the last.

Do-hyun laughed through split lips. The sound was cracked, desperate, but still carried that cockroach confidence. "Haha… wait a minute, man… you tryna break me or build me? 'Cause my bones can't tell the difference!"

Han Sen's only answer was another punch.

By the time Do-hyun stumbled out of that chamber, his shirt was torn, his cheek swollen, and one of his eyes puffed nearly shut. He moved like a man who had been stuffed into a blender and poured back out.

The WN Agency's office building looked way too clean for his current state. The lobby smelled of polished wood and fresh paper. Secretaries typed behind counters, Hunters came and went in tidy uniforms, and then there was Do-hyun—limping past them like some half-dead stray dog.

He pushed open the office door to Han Jin-woo's desk.

Han Jin-woo, usually calm with his thin-rim glasses and always-trimmed hair, froze when he saw him. His jaw dropped so fast his pen rolled off the desk.

"What the—what happened to you?!" Jin-woo shot up, eyes wide.

Do-hyun raised a finger weakly. "It's me. Kim Do-hyun. Don't call security."

"No sht it's you. You look like you went twelve rounds with a truck." Jin-woo rushed around the desk, grabbing his shoulders. "What the hell happened?"

"I got beat up in training."

"Training?!" Jin-woo's face darkened. "By who? Which guild? I'm filing a damn complaint. Nobody touches my hunters like this."

Do-hyun groaned, lowering himself into a chair with the grace of a collapsing building. "Relax. It was Han Sen. Man's desperate. His sister's in a dungeon. I get it."

Jin-woo blinked, then frowned deeper. "Wait, your sister… she got infected, right? And you're just sitting here acting like this is normal?"

Do-hyun nodded, rubbing the swelling under his eye. "I'm fine. Took a mission from Candace Guild. Long story."

"Candace Guild?" Jin-woo hissed through his teeth. "Do-hyun…"

"Don't worry about it." He waved it off. "By the way, update my contact info. Use clone number two. Lost my old phone."

Jin-woo froze. "You lost your phone? You're not gonna back up your contacts?"

Do-hyun smirked faintly. "Nah. Better this way. Too many ghosts on that list."

Jin-woo sat back, studying him. His voice softened. "You're afraid to lose people again."

Do-hyun didn't answer, but the silence said everything.

Finally Jin-woo sighed. "Fine. But seriously—why are you wrecked like this?"

"Training with Han Sen."

Jin-woo's brows shot up. "Training? That's what you call this? You look half-dead. I'm calling the guild."

Do-hyun raised his hand weakly. "Chill. He's desperate, I told you. His sister's life's on the line. Today I got beat up. Tomorrow… I'm planning to let the clones take the hits."

Jin-woo exhaled hard through his nose. "Kid…"

Do-hyun leaned back, closing his good eye, a half-smile tugging at his bruised mouth.