Job Change Trial

The sky above the desolate trial battlefield was as gloomy as lead.

Lin Mo stood before the earthen wall of the ruined outpost, sweeping his gaze over the fifty militiamen before him, their eyes dull and their movements stiff.

Then he looked at the "120/200" Blood Value in his status panel.

"Time is tight," he muttered.

"Main Body!" Third Clone ran back from the direction of the warehouse. "I found something good!"

He held a small pouch of blood-red herbs in his hand!

[Item: Ten-Year Bloodline Grass ×12]

[Effect: Each plant restores 20 Blood Value]

"Twelve plants!" Lin Mo's eyes lit up. "That can restore 240 Blood Value!"

He had an idea!

"Everyone, assemble!"

The fifty dull-eyed militiamen slowly gathered in the open space.

Lin Mo stood atop a wooden crate and cleared his throat.

"Brothers! I know you're tired, scared, and want to go home!"

The militiamen remained expressionless.

"But!" Lin Mo raised his voice. "The enemy army won't let us go! They'll storm in, chop off our heads, steal our food, and burn our homes!"

There was still no reaction.

Lin Mo's mouth twitched, and he changed tactics.

"Win this battle, and each of you will receive ten taels of Reward Silver! Those who die will receive Fifty Taels in compensation! Your families will be supported by the outpost!"

The moment he finished speaking, the eyes of all fifty militiamen... lit up at the same time!

Though the light quickly faded, it at least proved that they understood the word "money"!

Money could move even the gods—and it could get these dim-witted militiamen moving too.

"Now, listen to my orders!"

He jumped down from the crate. "First and Second Squads, go to the warehouse and move Stones and timber to repair the gaps in the wall!"

"Third Squad, make torches—more is better!"

"Fourth Squad, inventory all weapons. If there aren't enough spears, use sharpened wooden sticks instead!"

"Fifth Squad, light the fires and cook. Everyone must eat their fill before the battle!"

The militiamen slowly began moving. Though their movements were still stiff, they had at least started carrying out his orders.

Lin Mo turned to the four Clones.

"We need more manpower. My current Blood Value is 120. To be safe, I'll keep 50 in reserve, which means I can create seven Clones."

"And with that Bloodline Grass..." First Clone's eyes lit up. "Twelve plants, twenty points each, for a total of 240!"

"We can create thirty-one New Clones!" Third Clone quickly calculated. "Including the four of us, that makes thirty-five Tier 3 Clones in total!"

Lin Mo looked around the outpost. "Are there any clothing reserves in the warehouse?"

Third Clone had already given the warehouse a rough inspection.

"Yes! There are thirty sets of spare militia Leather Armor, along with plenty of coarse cloth clothes and Hemp Cloth! They're old, but there's enough!"

"Good!" Lin Mo made the decision. "We'll begin mass production now!"

He walked into the shadows beside the warehouse and sat down cross-legged.

"I'll create seven Clones first, consuming 70 Blood Value and leaving 50 as a safeguard. Then I'll take the herbs to replenish it and create the remaining twenty-four."

"Begin!"

Lin Mo was already familiar with the process after his first attempt at creating Clones.

The sensation of having his life essence drawn away was still unpleasant, but he had adapted far more than before.

[Blood Value -10], [Blood Value -10]...

Ripple after ripple spread through the air like waves.

Seven naked bodies appeared one after another in the open space beside the warehouse.

"Fuck! Again?!"

"Is this wholesale now?!"

"Main Body, could you at least give us a heads-up? This is embarrassing, okay!"

The newly appeared Clones erupted into an uproar, and the scene quickly descended into chaos.

"Shut up!" Lin Mo snapped, his face pale. "There are clothes in the warehouse. Go find some yourselves! Then come out and assemble—you have assignments!"

The seven New Clones covered their private parts and rushed into the warehouse in a swarm.

Two minutes later, they came running out one after another, dressed either in militia leather armor or rough cloth garments.

Though their clothing was a mess, at least they were covered.

Lin Mo's Current Vital Blood was now 50/200, and his status panel showed [Moderate Weakness].

He took out two ten-year Bloodline Grasses and stuffed them straight into his mouth to chew.

An intense fishy sweetness and bitterness exploded across his tongue, followed by a surging wave of heat!

[Consumed ten-year Bloodline Grass ×2]

[Vital Blood Recovery +40]

[Current Vital Blood: 90/200]

The weakness faded somewhat, but it was still not enough.

"Keep going!"

Lin Mo gritted his teeth and focused again.

Ripples spread, and another naked clone appeared.

"Fuck..." The New Clone was just about to complain when Seventh Clone, who had gotten dressed earlier, shoved a set of leather armor into his arms. "Quit talking and get dressed!"

And so, Lin Mo began a frenzied cycle of "creating and taking medicine."

On the open ground beside the warehouse, naked clones popped up one after another like bamboo shoots after rain. Then the "seniors," who had prepared in advance, swiftly dressed them and sent them to line up nearby.

For a time, the sight was quite... spectacular.

More than thirty identical people bustled back and forth between the warehouse and the open ground.

Some were getting dressed, some were passing out clothes, some were smug over grabbing leather armor that fit, while others could only complain as they wore rough cloth garments two sizes too large.

"This leather armor smells moldy!"

"Be grateful! There's a hole in the ass of my pants!"

"Who took my left shoe? Get back here!"

"Main body, I think we need to establish a Clone Clothing Management Regulations."

Third Clone, who was in charge of handing out clothes, wore an utterly lifeless expression.

Lin Mo ignored him and quickly swallowed the last Xi Ge Bloodline Grasses.

When the final eight clones appeared one after another, Lin Mo finally stopped.

Lin Mo rose to his feet and looked at the neatly lined-up... thirty-five clones before him.

Yes, thirty-five.

Because the earliest Xi Ge clones were now standing at the very front of the line with the bearing of "seniors," their faces full of smug pride that said, "I've got the most seniority here."