CLANG!

  With a final, dull sound of twisting metal, the blast door leading deep underground finally collapsed under the Slayer's persistent "Physical Persuasion."

  The Slayer stepped onto the fallen door panel and walked into the pitch-black corridor.

  There were no guards.

  No traps.

  Not even a whisper of sound.

  There was only an extremely eerie oppressive sensation, as if he were underwater.

  The Slayer turned on the searchlight on his shoulder cannon.

  The beam hit the walls, refracting into blurry halos of light. The walls were not solid metal or rock, but composed of countless tiny, slowly rotating mirror crystals.

  The Slayer continued forward.

  But after less than a hundred meters, he stopped.

  Because the path ahead forked.

  Not into two, nor three.

  But into infinite paths.

  Before him appeared a colossal, honeycomb-like circular hall. The walls of the hall were filled with thousands of identical openings, each emitting the same gloom, radiating the same demonic aura.

  And in front of every opening stood a... Slayer.

  Yes.

  Thousands of Slayers, clad in dark green Praetor Suits, holding shotguns, with chainguns on their shoulders, stood before those openings. With the same posture and the same cold eyes, they looked back at the original standing in the center of the hall.

  The Slayer tapped his finger against the trigger guard of his shotgun.

  The reflections did not disappear.

  On the contrary, one of the "Slayers" moved.

  It raised its shotgun and fired a round at the original.

  BANG!

  Golden thunder accompanied by blue frost roared towards him.

  The Slayer didn't dodge. He merely turned slightly, taking the hit with the Demon Dragon spike on his shoulder.

  DING!

  Sparks flew.

  The attack was real. The damage was real (though for him, it was still just "chip damage" that couldn't penetrate his defense).

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  But that wasn't the problem.

  The first gunshot seemed to trigger a chain reaction.

  All the "Slayers" moved simultaneously.

  They were like an angered swarm of bees, instantly surging toward the center of the hall from all directions. Thousands of shotguns, chainguns, and ballistas opened fire at once.

  The entire hall was instantly filled with destructive energy of various colors.

  The Slayer stood in the eye of the storm.

  His reflective armor was fully active; he was like a black hedgehog, bouncing back every attack that hit him.

  He raised his hand and smashed a clone that rushed in front of him with a single punch.

  Splat.

  The clone didn't bleed, nor did it turn into a corpse. Instead, it exploded into a cloud of purple smoke. This smoke then quickly drifted back to the opening, and in less than a second, re-condensed into a pristine Slayer.

  The Slayer fired another shot.

  Shattered three of them.

  Then three became six.

  Endless.

  Absolutely endless.

  These clones were like an infinite virus; no matter how many were cleared, they would respawn even faster.

  Although the Slayer's body remained invincible and the attacks of these counterfeits couldn't even break his shields, the feeling of being besieged by countless versions of himself—cleaning them up only to see more appear—gave the Slayer an unprecedented sense of irritation.

  Efficiency was too low.

  Every attack he made was a waste of time and stamina. And the real enemy, the Thousand-Eyed Tyrant hiding in the dark, must be chuckling at his powerlessness from some corner right now.

  ...

  Netherworld, Control Center.

  Singularity watched the dense mass of green figures on the screen. Instead of panicking, he wore a look of extremely professional curiosity.

  His hands flew across the keyboard, pulling up a set of comparative data.

  "This cloning technique... is interesting."

  Singularity stroked his chin.

  "This is completely different from the Great Sage's (Sun Wukong) 'Body Outside of Body' technique."

  "The Great Sage's hair clones are essentially 'Distributed Computing'. Each hair is an independent physical terminal. Although they possess the Sage's consciousness, they require him to allocate mental focus to control them (remote OS installation). The more clones, the greater the drain on the main body, and the higher the operation latency."

  "But this Tyrant's illusion..."

  Singularity pointed at the infinite, respawning clones on the screen.

  "This is 'Cloud Virtual Machine' technology!"

  "These clones have no physical substance; they are merely 'virtual images' projected by the Tyrant within that mirror-filled space. The Tyrant only needs to maintain one core algorithm to generate countless projections in the hall."

  "It's like standing between two mirrors; there will be infinite reflections of you in the mirrors. Breaking the reflection in the mirror doesn't hurt the mirror itself, let alone the person hiding behind it."

  "This cloning efficiency... is indeed much higher than the hair-based physical clones."

  "As long as that core algorithm is running, and as long as those mirrors are refracting, these clones are infinite."

  Singularity looked at the Slayer on the screen, who was still swinging his chainsaw vigorously but was obviously burning with rage from this endless harassment.

  "Slayer, stop brute-forcing it!"

  "This isn't fighting; this is fighting air!"

  "If you don't turn off the 'projector' hidden behind the scenes, even if you kill these tens of thousands of clones, you're just providing entertainment for the Tyrant!"

  The Slayer seemed to hear Singularity's words (or perhaps he was just tired of killing).

  He suddenly stopped moving.

  He allowed the surrounding counterfeits to continue their scratch-damage attacks on him.

  He slowly put away the chainsaw.

  He raised his head.

  Those eyes hidden behind the faceplate didn't look at the clones. Instead, through the chaotic light and shadows, they looked for the source of all these illusions—

  He was searching.

  Searching for the "Reality" that, no matter how deeply hidden, could not completely mask its foul stench.

  Next Chapter: Thermal Imaging Sky Eye. Singularity: Since eyes can be deceived, don't use eyes. Turn on the 'cheat' that sees through all falsehoods!