The Genius of Cloning in the Academy City

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As Violet’s first test flight was underway, Duke Alistair of Cascadia was receiving reports on the training progress.

“Is this really beyond imagination? Are they truly that fast?”

Duke Alistair’s voice was filled with astonishment. With each page of the confidential report his advisor flipped, his eyebrows raised higher.

“Yes, it seems that the collective intelligence has surpassed our predictions significantly.”

The graphs showcasing the rapidly evolving results of simulated combat and learning speed displayed a breathtakingly steep ascent.

Alistair was aware of Violet’s high combat capabilities and potential, but he hadn’t expected it to be to this extent.

“Adela has truly brought back a gem.”

As a leader of a prestigious family that had endured for centuries, Alistair had seen much.

Superhumans with astonishing abilities, sages exuding profound wisdom, and mysterious and bizarre relics.

The powerful forces of the world that could scorch the atmosphere and tear through the crust, along with the darkest and most dangerous secrets veiled within barriers.

However, among all the superhumans he had encountered, there was none like Violet.

Especially regarding intelligence.

“Did they say ‘intelligence explosion’? What a unique term.”

Alistair muttered,

“That would be the only explanation. Such a speed cannot emerge through standard learning processes.”

Logically, the education method for military aircraft takes at least a year, and often several years.

Fighter pilots are not mere motorcycle riders. They encompass a complex amalgamation of aerospace engineering principles and tactical doctrines.

The manuals and training materials they must master are so voluminous they surpass the thickness of regular encyclopedias.

Fighter aircraft manned by well-trained pilots are like finely honed surgical instruments crafted by modern civilization.

The fighter jets they pilot represent the pinnacle of technology—equipped with powerful warheads and various magical weaponry engraved with magic formulas, including electromagnetic rapid-fire artillery and laser cannons.

Well-trained pilots serve as expertly sharpened swords defending the skies of the red and yellow zones.

So initially, there was concern.

Could they possibly grasp this challenging and substantial amount of knowledge?

Violet dispelled those worries with a simple yet innovative method.

By sharing and absorbing knowledge through an overwhelming number of clones, operating 24 hours a day like mindless machines.

The numerous simulation controllers and training devices set up by the family relentlessly operated to satiate Violet’s thirst for learning.

What started as a clumsy training method burst forth into an explosive performance within days.

To be fair, Violet wasn’t exactly a blank slate.

She was fundamentally capable of piloting helicopters and light aircraft, and thanks to her Awakened physique, she could drastically reduce the training time needed for gravity acceleration courses.

“Even so, it’s impressive. To be honest, I want to scale up the flight squadron. It’s a pity we’re only providing second-rate equipment. Isn’t it a principle to provide the best weapons to excellent warriors? I’m seriously tempted to assign a few hypersonic fighter jets right now.”

Duke Alistair’s voice carried a mix of admiration and regret. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he read Violet’s performance reports.

“I’ve advised her several times, but she refused. Apparently, she’s not yet accustomed to jet operations. For now, she prefers weapons that she can ‘freely use and wreck.'”

The advisor’s words caused Alistair’s expression to shift slightly, remembering a girl who had a bizarre obsession with self-detonation.

“…She may seem reckless and thoughtless, but if that’s what she wants, there’s nothing to be done.”

The office fell into a contemplative silence. A pensive aura enveloped Alistair’s gaze.

The moment he first met Violet flashed through the duke’s mind.

“Hello, I’m your dad’s daughter!”

He had chuckled it off himself, but it was clear how others would react.

While nurturing a genius of battle was important, eventually introducing her to high society would necessitate another kind of education for her own sake.

“Etiquette… would definitely be essential for that girl.”

The duke immersed himself in deep thoughts about how to shape this remarkable gem.

**

After completing her first solo flight, we prepared to leave with Rugilinn’s Iron Fist.

The Super Medium Tank was too large for training inside the dungeon or academy city.

“Iron Fist! You better be fine!”

“Anyone would think you’re dramatically parting forever. Captain, there are other Violets here too.”

“Oh, right! Isn’t that so?”

We decided to use the Cascadian flight for our return. Though we considered a charter flight, we opted for a commercial flight in anticipation of delicious in-flight meals.

“We already had great food here. I really want to try airplane food. Whenever my friends or other researchers talked about it, I was curious about how good it really was.”

At Enrique’s words, her expression darkened, likely recalling her classmate researchers who were in comatose states.

“When they wake up, I can recommend what might taste better as we travel together.”

“Yeah! That’s a good idea!”

Based on my past experiences flying under disguises, in-flight meals usually varied little. It seemed Enrique expected airplane food to be like high-end restaurant menus.

“Sometimes, it’s nice to experience the commoner’s means of transport!”

“Suddenly sounding aristocratic, aren’t we? Weren’t we commoners originally?”

“No! We are now nobles, our Violets hold titles of knights!”

Thanks to our wealthy friends, we had grown accustomed to extravagance.

It had become routine to spend extra money on pricey weapons or mana-replenishing items.

“Alright, starting today, let’s live thrifty! Instant noodles every day, killing enemies only with knives instead of bullets and bolts.”

“That sounds nice!”

While Unit 5211 flew toward the academy city, we engaged in a heated discussion on economical and pro-commoner methods of slaughter.

**

Meanwhile, during Violet’s firepower demonstration, exciting scenes unfolded at our makeshift research lab back home.

A lively clamor filled the lab.

“Uki!”

-Thunk thunk thunk!

“Ugh!”

My gaze caught the sight of a monkey tapping on Uncle Yurik’s shoulder.

At first glance, it seemed like the monkey was causing a ruckus, but the reality was quite different.

Our Violets were innocent girls who loved peace.

There’s no way the V-Monkey, equipped with intelligence through our network, could be violent.

What it was doing was nothing short of a shoulder massage.

“Uki?”

“Yes, that’s good enough. Ugh… that feels nice. Thanks, little monkey. Here’s a cookie.”

“Uwo!”

The monkey joyously munched on the cookie that Uncle Yurik handed over.

Perhaps it recalled how Yurik had supported it during the previous strike, as it seemed to have become close with him.

While the V-Monkey enjoyed its tasty snack for its services, at the back of the lab, the now-ten V-Rats marched in an orderly fashion, cleaning up the area.

“Chirp?”

“Chirp chirp!”

The V-Rats communicated with each other, tidying up the trash and ensuring every nook and cranny was clean.

The V-Crows perched on the perch nearby cawed in slight surprise.

“Wow, look at this! They’re truly moving in an orderly fashion.”

Instructor Frederick’s tone was laced with astonishment.

“And that’s not all! They can understand human speech to some extent. Watch this. Alright, you guys! Attention! Stand straight!”

“Squeak!”

The working rats quickly gathered together and stood in a stiff two-row formation, leaving the instructor unable to hide his surprise.

“I’ve temporarily given command authority to President Violet. All animals here understand our words and act upon them.”

“So Violet isn’t individually controlling them? How fascinating.”

Of course, the reason the instructor had come here wasn’t just to see the animals.

“Let’s see. Come here, little monkey. Show me your skills.”

“Uki?”

The monkey, who had been giving massaged to Uncle Yurik, hopped down eagerly.

Unit 443 awaited following the monkey and the instructor.

They exited the office, weaving through the vast factory and once more into another warehouse.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Uwo! Uwo!”

The monkey swiftly picked up a stick that had fallen to the ground.

The trajectory of the stick slicing the air danced before us. The invisible lines tracing intricate patterns in the air resembled an abstract painting—complex, with curving and straight lines merging to form ephemeral shapes that momentarily appeared and disappeared.

Instructor Frederick’s eyes narrowed, then widened once again in astonishment.

“Unbelievable. This is Polaris combat style. It’s the one-handed swordsmanship I taught you, executing the basic attack and defense transition poses from one to five.”

This monkey was undoubtedly a success.

“Right? It’s good, right? He’s good at fighting! He even beat a dog!”

The mention of fighting sparked a glimmer of interest in the instructor’s eyes.

I recounted the incident where it had subdued a fierce dog that had attacked Uncle Yurik.

“It was originally quite a savage animal. Even after losing its intelligence, it kept on barking.”

Upon examination, it turned out that the dog was unsuitable for experimental use due to its overly aggressive nature.

I had let it be for a while while searching for an adoption or rescue shelter, but in the meantime, it attempted to break free from its leash.

It just so happened that our monkey crossed paths with it.

“Growl…!”

Even without intelligence, the malice remained, and the dog lunged at the V-Monkey.

Typically, they would have snarled and fought like beasts, but…

The V-Monkey was different.

“Uki! Uwo!”

-Slam!

“Cack!”

Using a tray as a shield, it deflected the attack and jabbed the stick firmly into the dog’s neck.

A fierce series of blocking and counterattacks.

The monkey mercilessly beat the dog as we hunted down beasts.

By the time I noticed the commotion and rushed out, it was all over.

“Yikes…”

“Uwo!”

The image of the victorious monkey striking a pose beside the crumpled dog is still quite amusing to think about.

“Amazing. You’ve gone beyond mere imitation and actively utilized your skills.”

“Right? That’s why I’m planning to give him a gun or weapon! Like this.”

-Clink!

We handed the monkey a submachine gun.

It awkwardly placed its finger on the trigger and checked the chamber, or removed the magazine.

The instructor looked at the monkey and me in disbelief.

“Are we possibly creating an animal army here?”

Animal army? Upon hearing the instructor, amusing thoughts flickered through the heads of our Violets.

“Why didn’t we think of that? Let’s connect the network to the horses and elephants too!”

“Violet elephants? Wow, are we becoming General Hannibal now?”

Imagining it didn’t seem that bad—except for the issue of their inability to use magic.

Considering the recent animal experiments were progressing smoothly, we felt we could dream even bigger.

Safety was not a concern.

Animals connected to the Violet Network had been operating healthily without mishap.

Yes, there was no issue—except for one.

When we returned to the office, Uncle Yurik mumbled.

“By the way, they don’t have names?”

“Names?”

Oh, come to think of it, our animals had no names. We just called them rats, monkeys, and crows.

“They may increase in number in the future. We need to give them names to differentiate.”

There was reasoning in Uncle Yurik’s words.

If we wanted to create an army of Violet animals, we would need a way to distinguish between each individual.

“I’ve got a great idea!”

Unit 443 exclaimed confidently.

“What is it?”

“How about ‘Uki’? Let’s call him ‘Uki 1.'”

The monkey froze, possibly in shock from the excitement.

Uncle Yurik paused in thought before quietly asking.

“…What will you name the crows and rats?”

“Well, the crow will be ‘Caw,’ and the rat will be ‘Chirp.'”

“…Isn’t that a bit too casual?”

The once-stiff monkey suddenly burst into an uproar, swinging its arms in protest.

“Uuwuuu! Uuwuuu!”

“Uuwuuu! Boss! I dislike that name! It’s not cool!”

The monkey’s strong objection drew enthusiastic agreement from the crows and rats alike.

I sent calming thoughts towards them and then asked Uncle Yurik.

“Then what did you think? Do you have a better idea?”

“Of course, we should name him Caesar! I thought of that a while ago; it sounds awesome, doesn’t it?”

A chilling sensation swept through the Violet Network like a lightning bolt.

“Uh, I dislike that! It feels like plagiarism!”

If we named them that, a rebellion would undoubtedly break out.

We should avoid names that carry a sense of subversion.

After several discussions and deliberations, a good name finally came to mind.

Proudly, Violet spoke to the first monkey of her legion.

“Your name is… Basungi!”

The monkey’s rage exploded.

“Ukiiiiii!”

“Boss, I hate it!”