Chapter 40: Episode 40: One Body, Two Minds

Chapter 40: Episode 40: One Body, Two Minds Episode 40: One Body, Two Minds The wooden floors of the sparring dojo hummed faintly under the tension of movement. Fluorescent lights buzzed from above, casting wide white panels of light that shimmered against the scuff-marked mats. Kim Do-hyun (김도현) wasn’t physically in the room, but his consciousness was. His mind, tethered to Clone Number Two, hovered just behind the clone’s senses like a second skin. And in that moment, he wasn’t just watching through a pair of borrowed eyes. He was experiencing everything. The air that rushed over the clone’s sweat-slick skin didn’t just move past — it tugged at Do-hyun’s own nerves. Every footfall on the padded mat, every faint twitch of shoulder muscle from the man facing the clone, every drop of rising body heat — Do-hyun felt it. Not in theory. Not as data. But as a body that mirrored his own. The moment the Familiar Skill activated, a ripple of mental dissonance had shaken through him, like a second heartbeat overlaying his own. But it settled fast. Too fast. And now, he was standing—no, floating—within Number Two’s world. The man facing the clone, the one everyone in the room called Head Instructor, was no lightweight. He looked like he had survived more years in combat than most had spent walking. His limbs were corded muscle, but his stance was fluid, not bulky. His grip on the staff was light, but that meant nothing to someone like Kim Do-hyun. That lightness meant danger. Still, the crowd forming around the ring didn’t understand. "Wait, is he really going against that guy already?" someone whispered. "That clone barely signed in! What the hell is he thinking?" Kim Do-hyun heard it all through the Familiar link. Do-hyun didn’t need to move. Number Two was doing the talking now. Without a word, the instructor moved first. There was no warning strike. No slow approach. Just pure, honed aggression. Whap! A diagonal arc screamed through the air, aiming for Number Two’s shoulder. Clack! Another swing came from below—faster this time, more precise, angled to clip the ribs. Number Two twisted away like water. His left heel swept backward, absorbing the shock with his center low. Then— Boom. Another thrust. Sharp. Direct. The staff came like a javelin aimed at the gut. "Shit, he’s trying to break him!" someone muttered from the crowd. Inside the Familiar consciousness, Do-hyun’s own breath hitched. The impact hadn’t even landed, yet he felt the air displacement. He could feel the heat radiating from the instructor’s swing. It was like his own chest was about to be split open. But Number Two wasn’t just reacting. He was processing. He leaned slightly. Not a full dodge — just enough to tilt the incoming force past his shoulder. It wasn’t flashy. It was efficient. His eyes, and by extension, Do-hyun’s, tracked the man’s wrist rotation, elbow torque, and foot alignment. Every strike had a rhythm. The instructor was reading Number Two’s movements, trying to catch a pattern. But the clone gave him nothing. Suddenly, Number Two’s expression shifted. A microsecond flick of the eye. Not fear. Not tension. Decision. He dropped low and came forward. His right hand shifted down the clone’s own staff—shortened grip, sudden shift. And then—whip! A side strike exploded outward. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was stolen. The exact same maneuver the instructor had landed earlier during warmups. Same rotation. Same body turn. Same grip. Only now, it came from the clone’s hands. The sound of impact was dull but violent. Wham! The instructor staggered, jaw clenched, eyes flashing in surprise. "What the hell—he just used his move on him?" Do-hyun, within the clone’s consciousness, grinned. That strike hadn’t just been a reaction. It had been a reflection. The instructor shook it off quickly, shifting stance again. The sharp focus in his eyes was still there, but it was different now. Respect. He came forward, launching another sweep at the clone’s legs, then a rising jab toward the shoulder. Number Two read it cleanly. He stepped right, leaned in, then— Whap! He caught the instructor’s exposed flank with a stab to the shoulder. Not deep. Controlled. But real. The instructor flinched. His body arched from the force. For a second, he almost looked like he would fall. "Did he just—?" "No way..." The dojo went silent. Smoke hissed faintly from the instructor’s shoulder. A small puff of harmless impact steam from the reinforced spar weapons. Clone Number Two stood ready. Unshaken. He didn’t taunt. Didn’t press forward. He waited. But the instructor wasn’t done. His foot kicked backward—an acrobatic spin suddenly erupting into motion. With surprising speed, he flung himself into the air, flipping above the clone’s head. It wasn’t just defense. It was a feint. In mid-spin, he whipped his staff downward. Smack! It connected with the clone’s hand. The staff was knocked away. Pain exploded. And Kim Do-hyun felt all of it. His own hand spasmed. His grip reflexively opened even though it was Number Two’s fingers that had been struck. The burning sting wasn’t imagined—it was real, transferred straight through the Familiar link. Do-hyun winced, sucking in air through clenched teeth. Inside the dojo, the crowd burst out again. "Well, yeah, he’s the coach. He wasn’t going to just let the kid win." "He flipped the script real fast." The instructor landed in a three-point stance, breathing heavy, a small smile now tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That was dangerous, huh?" he muttered toward the clone. "You still wanna keep going, punk?" Inside the shared mindspace, Do-hyun gritted his teeth. Damn. That hurt more than I thought it would. But he didn’t pull back. Instead, he spoke within the link. "You good, Number Two?" The response was immediate. Number Two didn’t even pause. He darted forward—not to strike, but to mirror. The clone’s foot launched upward, pushing from the heel. He twisted mid-air, flipping in the exact same motion the instructor had just used. "Wait. No way—" "He’s copying the flip?" Even the instructor blinked. Clone Number Two’s body rotated. Air rushed around his ears. Do-hyun’s equilibrium shifted with the motion. He wasn’t watching from a distance anymore—he was inside the movement. In mid-air, the clone’s eyes locked with the instructor’s. There was no fear. Only reflection. Clone Number Two landed just behind the instructor, stick in hand once again. "You’re serious..." the coach muttered, but this time, he was smiling. The clones didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. The next round was already underway. Kim Do-hyun, back in the observation hallway, slowly opened his eyes. The Familiar link didn’t shut off. It lingered. He could still feel the throb in the hand. Still sense the weight in the clone’s legs from that mid-air flip. The smell of sweat and polished wood lingered in his nose. He didn’t need to ask if this was working anymore. It was. The fatigue from both clones was already building in his own body. But so was the learning. He didn’t just see it—he understood it. The timing. The reflex loops. The motion chains. How close-range combat required not just physical skill but mental trust in muscle memory. His hand moved slightly. He mimicked the same staff grip Number Two had used. And it felt... natural. A new window suddenly flickered into view. [Shared Combat Synchronization Achieved] [Strength +1] [Reaction Speed +1] Do-hyun exhaled slowly, the air leaving him like he’d just run a mile through smoke. This was it. He whispered to himself, smiling faintly. "Today’s for combat and shooting training..." And he wasn’t just watching anymore. He was evolving. [Episode Ends Here] --- Author’s Note – Written by Clone Number 8 (on behalf of the sleepy Master, Little LYTA) Hey hey hey, it’s me — Clone Number 8, reporting for duty while my Master, the nice Little LYTA, is currently passed out on the bed with both earbuds in, music blasting at full volume. I think it’s some kind of sad piano soundtrack from a historical K-drama... dramatic enough to make even a clone get emotional. But while Master’s out cold dreaming about stats, systems, and sensory training arcs, I took over the Author’s Note this time. So listen up, reader-nim! If your heart thumped even a little when Number Two flipped midair like a damn action movie character... If you caught yourself smirking when Coach got hit with his own move... If you felt that sensory link scene like it was YOUR body reacting to the recoil or staff pressure... Then do your part. Please. This is novelhall, and nothing you do is too small. Gift. Vote. Comment. Share. Add to library. Leave a review. Even if it’s just a thumbs up or a single word in the comment section like "????," it helps more than you know. We clones are doing all we can. Sparring. Flipping. Getting hit in the hand with a stick while Master feels every bit of the pain. But that pain? Totally worth it if you show love for this story. Master might be sleeping right now, but when he wakes up and sees your support? Trust me... he’s going to be smiling like a proud parent at a school talent show. This has been Clone Number 8, Author Assistant Extraordinaire. Back to laundry now... or maybe I’ll go iron Master’s hoodie. Peace out, and don’t forget to VOTE. ????