Chapter 7: The Start of a Double Life
The sun had not yet come up when the clone arrived at Crazy Monkey Logistics Center. The sky was dark and quiet. The city was still sleeping. But inside the warehouse, the lights were already on. Boxes were stacked high like towers. Pallets lined the walls. Forklifts beeped softly in the distance. The air smelled like dust and old plastic.
The clone did not care.
He walked through the front gate, wearing the same navy uniform and black gloves. He did not speak to anyone. He did not need to. The orders were already in his head.
From the moment he stepped inside, he moved with one goal.
Work.
Lift. Stack. Move. Repeat.
The clone was like a robot. He picked up boxes that made others groan. He carried loads that needed two men. He ran across the floor while others walked. Some workers stopped to stare. Others kept their heads down. But the whispering started.
"Hey… is that the new guy?"
"Yeah. That's Jeon Dong-gil."
"He doesn't stop, does he?"
"He's been at it since yesterday. No breaks."
"That's not normal."
It was not just his speed.
It was the way he moved.
Precise.
Clean.
Unshaken.
When the clone lifted boxes, his back stayed straight. His steps were even. His eyes were calm. He did not grunt. He did not sweat. He did not complain.
One man tried to talk to him during a break.
"You're something else, man. Where'd you learn to work like that?"
The clone looked at him, blinked once, and said nothing.
Then he picked up another box and walked off.
The man frowned.
"Creepy," he muttered.
Inside the manager's office, Oh Deok-su looked out the glass window. His arms were crossed. His eyes followed the clone as he zipped back and forth across the warehouse floor.
"That boy's a machine," he said under his breath.
One of the shift leaders, a man named Sang-wook, stood next to him.
"I've never seen anyone work like that," Sang-wook said. "And I've been here five years."
Deok-su nodded slowly.
"You know what's strange?" he said. "I used to know his cousin… Kim Do-hyun."
Sang-wook looked confused.
"What about him?"
Deok-su tapped the glass.
"That kid out there… looks just like him. But twenty kilos lighter."
He did not say anything else. Just watched.
Back on the floor, the clone moved through the aisles. He reached for a stack of heavy boxes. His muscles flexed under the uniform. Smooth. Quiet. Efficient.
Another worker nearby narrowed his eyes.
His name was Gi-tae.
He had been with the company three months.
He hated overachievers.
He hated being shown up.
And he especially hated people who made him look lazy.
Gi-tae watched the clone load a pallet faster than anyone else.
Then he scowled.
"Show-off," he muttered.
Later, during break time, the workers sat in the back corner. Some ate from lunchboxes. Others drank from vending machine cans. The clone stood near the wall, alone. He did not eat. He did not drink. He just waited.
Gi-tae walked over, cracking his knuckles.
"Hey," he said loudly.
Everyone turned.
The clone looked at him without moving.
"You think you're better than us?" Gi-tae asked.
The clone said nothing.
"You think just because you work fast, you can act like some kind of king?"
Still, silence.
Gi-tae got closer.
"I asked you a question."
The clone's eyes blinked once.
Then again.
Still no reply.
Gi-tae growled and reached out with one hand.
He shoved the clone in the chest.
Nothing happened.
The clone did not even flinch.
Gi-tae's face twisted with anger.
"Say something, you mute freak!"
And then, without warning, he threw a punch.
It came fast.
A wild swing.
Right at the clone's face.
But the clone moved.
So fast.
Too fast.
He stepped aside just enough.
The punch missed by inches.
Gi-tae stumbled forward, off balance.
The clone stayed still.
No counterattack.
No emotion.
Just calm.
The room went quiet.
Everyone stared.
Gi-tae stood up, face red, hands shaking.
"What… what are you?" he whispered.
The clone turned and walked away.
No words.
No fear.
No need.
At the very same moment, across the city, in a small apartment filled with empty ramen cups and two computer monitors, Kim Do-hyun opened his eyes.
He felt it.
A tiny buzz in the back of his head.
Not pain.
Not fear.
Just… tension.
He blinked and stared at the screen.
A small window popped up in the corner.
[Notification: Reflex +0.03]
He leaned back in the chair, eyes wide.
"No way…"
He opened his status panel.
[Stats]
Health: 100
Mana: 100
Strength: 7.1
Reflexes: 5.23
Stamina: 4.1
Endurance: 6.5
Agility: 4.0
He stared at the new number.
Then he leaned forward.
"He's drawing attention…"
His voice was low.
"…and attention gets you killed in this world."
He closed the window and stood up.
His legs were still a little sore.
The clone had been training all week.
Running in the park.
Lifting at the gym.
Working overtime at the warehouse.
Do-hyun's body had started changing.
His belly was shrinking.
His arms had a little shape now.
His old pants were loose.
Even his face looked less round in the mirror.
He had not done a single push-up.
But his stats were going up.
And his weight was going down.
It was like magic.
But magic with rules.
Rules he had to follow.
Like staying out of the spotlight.
He sat back down and opened the clone control window.
The link was still solid.
The clone was fine.
But that was the problem.
Fine was not enough.
If people started watching…
If someone started asking questions…
Everything could fall apart.
He tapped his desk.
"Too fast," he muttered.
"I need to slow him down."
But part of him did not want to.
Part of him wanted more.
More stats.
More growth.
More everything.
He stood again and grabbed a hoodie.
It was time to visit the park.
He needed to check on something.
The sun was starting to rise higher above the city as the warehouse began to fill with sound again. Metal doors screeched open. Forklifts beeped as they backed up and moved forward. Workers in dusty gloves began stretching, preparing themselves for another long day of sweat and sore backs.
But in one corner, Jeon Dong-gil had already started working.
He was not talking to anyone. He never did. His eyes were still. His pace, unbroken. The other workers had noticed. They always did. Jeon Dong-gil was fast. Too fast.
He stacked crates without pausing. When the crates grew too high, he switched to lifting them onto the belts. When belts jammed, he cleared them before anyone could blink. All while others were just sipping on water.
"That guy again," someone whispered behind a forklift. "Does he ever get tired?"
"He's like a robot or something," another replied. "Came here last week and already outworks everyone."
More than one pair of eyes followed him throughout the morning. They waited to see when he would slow down. But he didn't. Sweat dripped from his forehead, but his steps stayed strong. His shoulders never drooped. His hands never shook.
Inside the small second-floor office above the warehouse, Oh Deok-su leaned back in his old chair. His chair creaked under him as he slowly chewed gum. His eyes were fixed on the floor below through the grimy window.
He didn't say anything. But in his head, he was thinking hard.
That boy was strange.
He pulled out his tablet, swiped through some paperwork, and brought up Jeon Dong-gil's form again. The name didn't ring a bell. But the face? Something felt familiar. The way he moved, that posture, even the eyes that didn't show emotion—he had seen it before.
"No way," he muttered to himself. "That little tub of lard from years ago? Not a chance."
Back on the warehouse floor, the clone continued working. He was silent, like always. He did not speak unless spoken to, and even then, his answers were brief. Do-hyun had told him that before sending him. Speak less. Work more. Be forgettable.
But now, people were talking. And being forgettable was becoming impossible.
The noon bell rang. Most workers dropped their gloves and hurried to their lunchboxes. Some sprawled on the floor, already exhausted.
The clone walked to the far wall, away from the others, and sat with his back against the cold brick. His lunchbox was filled with double the food. Twice the rice, two sausages, and four boiled eggs. He opened the box and began eating slowly, mechanically.
"Dude," someone whispered from the next group. "He eats like a beast, too."
"Doesn't make sense. A guy like that should've been scouted for dungeon labor by now."
"Yeah… unless he's hiding something."
It was not just whispers now. Jealousy was building.
That's when trouble started.
A tall guy with a tattoo on his neck stood up. His name was Ryu Jin-sung, known for being lazy but loud. He didn't like being outshined. And he hated how Jeon Dong-gil worked like a ghost who didn't need rest.
Jin-sung tossed his lunchbox aside and walked straight over. His boots stomped loud across the cement floor. Others stopped talking and watched.
"Hey, freak," Jin-sung called out. "You got batteries or what?"
The clone did not reply.
"You think you're better than us?" Jin-sung added, now standing close. "Just cause you don't talk, huh?"
The clone raised his eyes slowly. He looked at Jin-sung but said nothing.
Then Jin-sung swung.
A wild punch, more about pride than damage, aimed for the clone's cheek.
But he missed.
No one could explain it. The clone's body moved like water. He leaned back just enough to let the fist slide past his nose. Not a single drop of rice fell from his spoon.
Silence.
Everyone had seen it.
Even Jin-sung looked shocked. His punch had been fast. Not pro-level fast, but street-fighter fast. The clone? He moved like someone who had practiced evasion for years.
"Oh crap," someone muttered from the back. "Did you see that?"
"Too clean," another whispered. "That's not normal."
The clone stood up, finished his food, and calmly placed the empty box back in his bag. Then, he walked away, not sparing Jin-sung another glance.
He headed straight to the back of the warehouse and resumed work.
Upstairs, Deok-su stood up. He watched the scene with narrowed eyes. This time, his gum stopped moving.
In his small studio apartment, far from the warehouse, Kim Do-hyun sat with a bowl of instant noodles. His phone buzzed quietly on the table.
He checked it.
[Clone status report available.]
He pulled up his screen and looked at the numbers.
[Reflex: 5.2 → 5.23]
[Stamina: 4.1 → 4.18]
His eyes widened.
He hadn't exercised at all today. But the clone had.
Do-hyun leaned back in his chair, bowl forgotten in his lap.
"This is working better than I thought," he muttered.
He reached for his notebook, the one where he wrote down every stat increase and what triggered it.
"Reaction speed goes up faster during real fights," he mumbled. "That's big."
He flipped to another page. This one was labeled [Risks].
There were only three things written.
1. Clone disappears if overworked
2. Clone cannot lie well
3. Attention = danger
He circled the last line.
Back at the warehouse, the murmurs had not stopped. Jin-sung had not tried another punch, but his pride had taken a hit. He kept glancing over his shoulder at the silent worker who had dodged him with ease.
Other coworkers started giving the clone space. Too much space. He worked alone again, but it was not peaceful anymore. It was tense.
Even during break time, eyes followed him.
People talked.
Rumors spread.
And in a world where awakening meant power, and power meant danger, rumors could kill.
Somewhere, far away, inside a private server database, a flag had been triggered.
Inside a secured tower filled with global awakening data, a red file blinked on the screen.
A man in a black suit leaned forward and clicked on it.
SUBJECT: KIM DO-HYUN
ANOMALY DETECTED: STAT CHANGES WITHOUT PHYSICAL PRESENCE
TRIGGER SOURCE: CLONE, IDENTITY MASKED AS JEON DONG-GIL
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