The day I lost my job, my girlfriend broke up with me.
She said, “Lin Zhou, you can’t give me a future.”
I laughed.
Because just moments earlier, my first clone had delivered food through a torrential downpour and made two thousand in an hour.
And the “future” she spoke of was being built for me, brick by brick, by my clones working as food couriers, rideshare drivers, and construction laborers.
Later, I had more and more clones.
By day, they were workaholics in every line of business. By night, they were “heroes” lurking in the shadows of the city.
I delivered the evidence against corrupt officials. I passed along leads on fugitives. When supernatural beings from abroad tried to cross the line, my clones just smiled and quietly brought out the “Dongfeng Express.”
When spiritual energy had fully revived and vicious beasts laid siege to the city,
I stood before a nationwide livestream with ten clones behind me and declared to the world:
“Sorry, when it comes to protecting this city, my clones really can do whatever they want.”
