The shadows beneath the ancient pine grove where Jinmu had retreated felt different now, charged with a possibility that hadn't existed just hours before. He sat cross-legged on the forest floor, his back against the rough bark of a centuries-old tree, staring at his own hands as if seeing them for the first time. The success of creating his first copy had opened doors in his mind that he hadn't even known existed, revealing potentials within the Heavenly Copy-Paste Technique that staggered him with their implications.
One copy was just the beginning, he thought, feeling the power flowing through his meridians like liquid starlight. If I can create one perfect duplicate of myself, if the technique can map and replicate every aspect of my existence down to the cellular level, then why stop at one? Why limit myself to a single backup when the Palace Master and her people are being held by dozens of professional assassins?
