"Tch. Found out."
The murderous clone's fierce expression immediately softened. He chuckled, lips pursed in an exaggerated pout. "The atmosphere was already there. Just cooperate a little."
Jack: …
The clones possessed independent consciousness, yes. But they remained extensions of Jack's self—sharing memories, perceptions, and information. Under his permission, of course.
They couldn't know what they shouldn't. Couldn't see what they weren't allowed to. Couldn't access what was off-limits.
System administrator privileges.
This was why Jack said they were talking to themselves. They were. Just… externally.
Nothing to be done about it. Jack—the main body—held absolute supreme authority. But every clone shared the same foundational thought patterns. Same ideas. Yet each developed subtle personality biases and behavioral differences based on environment and experience.
As long as Megaton Split remained active, this "schizophrenic" multi-consciousness coexistence persisted.
Easy solution: minimize clone count during coordinated operations. Avoid internal squabbles.
But individually? If these clones unleashed full power, even Jack—main body—would need full focus to handle them. Let alone other Monsters.
Gathered, a pile of shit. Scattered, stars across the sky.
That was the point.
"Alright, alright. Enough nonsense."
Jack—main body—clapped his hands. The erratic clones' attention snapped to him. His expression turned serious.
"Action plan. Remember it well."
Pause for emphasis.
"Starting today—you're responsible for free movement. Global."
Eyes lit up.
"Hunt Monsters. Plunder Origin Points. The more, the better."
He held up a hand.
"No need for further details. But. "
His gaze sharpened.
"Areas like M City—guarded by out-of-spec powerhouses with a distinctly different vibe, like Watchdog Man—don't go seeking death. Not yet."
Another pause.
"We're already very strong. But not strong enough to disregard everything. There are still many powerhouses we can't afford to provoke at this stage."
His voice dropped. Serious.
"Don't waste hard-earned cell reserves. Don't waste valuable development time. For nothing. Understood?"
Ten clones exchanged glances.
Three seconds of silence.
This plan had existed since he'd copied Black Sperm's UR ability. But only now—during this mission—could it finally begin execution.
The logic was simple. The demand for Origin Points was massive. Relying solely on his main body to grind Monsters one by one? Even if he hunted until the end of time, it wouldn't be enough.
And while Psykos's soft rice was fragrant…
Playing with fire isn't a long-term solution.
Jack didn't want to be constrained by others. Didn't want to sink with the Monster Association—a ship destined to capsize.
He needed his own Origin Points channel. Completely independent.
Walking on two legs. Faster. Steadier.
This task couldn't be entrusted to anyone else. Naturally—it went to the clone army before him.
"Oh, oh, oh!" A clone broke the silence first, rubbing his hands together. "Free movement! I like this!"
"Heh heh…" Another clone licked the corner of his mouth, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. "Finally—a rampage. Main body, this job's intense."
"Global hunting? Interesting!"
"Global what?" A third clone snorted. "The human territory in the One-Punch Man world is just one supercontinent. Don't you guys read the settings?"
"Heh heh." A fourth crossed his arms. "Don't take Murata's fan-made doujin as the original setting!"
"Then if Murata dedicates himself to drawing adult comics—how would you respond?!"
"Naturally—I would acknowledge him as my godfather!!"
"…"
Jack raised a hand.
The dazzling halo of the dog administrator flared. Instantly—silence.
"Stop."
His voice was calm. Final.
"If you want to further increase your strength—set off. Now."
"Received!"
"Understood!"
"For Origin Points—CHARGE!"
"Leave it to 'us,' boss!"
"…"
This time, the agreement came readily. No arguments. No snark.
Sharp-tongued. Mischievous. Sarcastic. Quarrelsome.
Ultimately, the clones' various behaviors were just pleasure-seekers entertaining themselves. They looked like psychopaths. If you truly treated them as psychopaths? You probably wouldn't know how you died.
The clone nearest the window stepped onto the ledge. Paused. Turned back.
"Boss." His tone was casual. Curious. "Such a grand plan—it must have a resounding codename, right?"
A beat.
"Does it not even have a name?"
"Yeah! At least give it a codename~~"
"Makes sense. I agree. Who dares to object?"
"I'll go first—'Rebirth: My Brother is a Monster Who Devours the World'!"
"Here's the pen. Smash the bookstore if it doesn't sell. Understood?"
"…"
Jack stroked his chin. Watched these chaos-revelers bounce off each other. A moment of contemplation.
Then—a profound smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
"The codename shall be—"
He paused. Let the weight settle.
"' Project X '."
All-encompassing. Nothing excluded."
The first clone's laugh boomed. "Heh heh… I like this name! Domineering enough!"
Then—a black shadow. Gone through the window.
The others followed. Smiling. Sinister. Like ghosts merging with the night. They vanished into M City's dark sky, scattering in all directions.
Silence returned to the room.
Jack slowly closed his eyes. The night wind brushed his face.
His consciousness expanded. Spread outward. An invisible net, continuously growing.
Through real-time perception—shared with each clone—his vision stretched beyond this small apartment. Extended in all directions. Toward the unknown world.
Scattered—stars across the sky.
The clone army moved fast. Incredibly efficient.
Before long, Monsters lurking in the city's darkness were singled out. Crushed on the spot. Bloody scenes of slaughter transmitted back through the clone network.
Kill notifications constantly refreshed in Jack's mind.
[Killed Wolf-level Monster 'Plague Rat' | Gained Origin Points × 6!]
[Killed Tiger-level Monster 'Sewer Rat King' | Gained Origin Points × 38!]
[Killed Tiger-level Monster 'Red-Eyed Lizardman' | Gained Origin Points × 65!]
[…]
[Killed Demon-level Monster 'Ceiling Fan Ghost' | Gained Origin Points × 327!]
The Origin Point balance on his panel jumped steadily upward. Small numbers. But this was just the beginning.
Jack opened his eyes. A capitalist's smile played across his upturned lips.
This feeling—sitting at home, collecting money…
Really good.
The Next Morning – Before Dawn
In King's bedroom, even in deep sleep, the man's villainous face—three scars, fierce features—remained full of unconscious majesty.
*DONG DONG DONG—! *
*DONG DONG DONG—! *
Urgent knocking. Forceful. Relentless. A drumbeat of doom, mercilessly dragging King from his sweet dreams.
King shot upright in bed.
Sleepy face replaced by pure terror. Fine cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead. His heart—uncontrollably—began to pound.
*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! *
Emperor Engine. Full power activated.
"Wh-Who… who is it…?"