Adam stood across the street from the massive Green Refinery complex once again. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows from the towering storage tanks and intricate network of pipes.
The constant hum of machinery vibrated in the air, a sound of immense power and industry. But this time, Adam wasn't trying to get in. He had a different, much bolder plan.
He positioned himself near the outer perimeter wall, far enough from the main gate and the watchful eyes of the security guards to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.
He leaned casually against a lamppost, trying to look like just another person waiting or resting, while his eyes carefully scanned the visible sections of the refinery inside the fence.
He focused on the massive, circular pipelines snaking between buildings, the tall distillation towers reaching towards the sky, the complex array of pumps, valves, and processing units that made up the heart of the operation.
It truly was a marvel of industrial engineering, a complex system designed for one purpose: turning raw crude oil into valuable fuel. And Adam needed one just like it.
His conversation with Kim replayed in his mind. Kim’s stark warnings about the challenges – manpower, secrecy, competition, and especially the immediate, critical need for extraction and refining equipment – had hammered home the near impossibility of starting an oil company from scratch using conventional methods, especially under the shadow of a powerful rival like Green Refinery.
Kim believed Adam had somehow already handled the equipment, a lie Adam had been forced to tell to keep his new CEO on board. Now, Adam had to make that lie a reality.
He took a deep, steadying breath, the metallic scent of the refinery filling his lungs. His heart pounded with a mixture of nervousness and fierce determination.
"This is my only real option," he muttered quietly to himself, his gaze fixed on the refinery structures. "Kim thinks acquiring equipment is impossible or would take months and millions, attracting attention. If I can just… copy this one… If this works, it solves the biggest immediate problem instantly. If it doesn't work… I'll have to tell Mr. Kim the truth about having nothing. And I really, really don't want to do that. He'll think I'm completely crazy, maybe walk away." The thought spurred him into action.
"Please," he silently pleaded to whatever force governed his strange ability, "Please, let this idea work."
With renewed resolve pulsing through him, Adam pushed himself off the lamppost. He walked purposefully, but not suspiciously, closer to the refinery's outer wall – a high concrete barrier topped with fencing.
He needed to be close enough to make physical contact, unsure if that was strictly necessary but wanting to maximize his chances. He found a spot where the shadows were deeper, where fewer people were likely to glance his way.
He reached out and pressed his palm firmly against the cool, rough surface of the concrete wall. It felt solid, real, a barrier between him and the complex machinery within.
He closed his eyes, shutting out the sights and sounds of the street, focusing all his mental energy inward, concentrating on the vast industrial complex just beyond the wall, picturing its entirety in his mind – the tanks, the pipes, the control rooms, everything. Then, holding his breath, he whispered the command, his voice barely audible:
"Copy."
Instantly, the familiar sensation occurred. A translucent blue system window shimmered into existence in his mind's eye, even with his physical eyes closed. It pulsed with a soft, ethereal glow. He felt a surge of adrenaline, a thrill of anticipation mixed with intense anxiety. Could it really copy something this huge? This complex? An entire factory?
He kept his eyes shut tight for several long seconds, his heart pounding like a drum against his ribs. The suspense was almost unbearable. Was it working? Or would the system tell him the target was too large, too complex? Finally, unable to wait any longer, he slowly opened his eyes.
His breath caught in his throat as he read the simple, stunning message displayed on the glowing blue screen:
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Host wishes to copy an entire factory. This action requires significant system resources. Do you confirm?
[Yes] [No]
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He stared at the words, disbelief warring with soaring excitement. An entire factory! It had registered his intent! His power could potentially handle something on this massive scale! The prompt asked for confirmation, warning about resource usage – whatever that meant – but the possibility was there.
A surge of pure, unadulterated excitement rushed through him, momentarily overwhelming the lingering aches from his beating. Without a single moment of hesitation, his mind screamed 'Yes!' and he mentally clicked the [Yes] button on the translucent window.
Almost immediately, the confirmation window vanished, replaced instantly by a second notification, flashing brightly in his vision:
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Processing... Please wait...
...
Congratulations! The host has successfully copied an entire factory (Green Refinery Complex)! Item stored in inventory slot 3.
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His jaw dropped. He blinked, rereading the message, making sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. Successfully copied an entire factory! It had actually worked! He now possessed a perfect, digital duplicate of the entire Green Refinery complex, stored safely within his secret inventory.
At the same exhilarating moment, a new system map materialized in front of his eyes, overlaying his view of the street. It wasn't just a map of his land this time; it was an incredibly detailed blueprint, a complete layout of the entire Green Refinery he had just copied.
He could see the precise arrangement of the pipelines, the location of every distillation tower, every storage tank, every control building, every valve, every pump – the intricate, complex inner workings of the facility were now laid bare before him, recorded, his to command, his to potentially replicate.
The sheer scale of his success, the magnitude of the power he wielded, overwhelmed him. An involuntary shout of pure joy burst from his lips. He clenched both fists tightly and raised them high towards the sky, ignoring the potential stares of any passersby.
"YES!" he yelled, the sound filled with triumph, relief, and utter exhilaration. "YES! IT WORKED!"
His excitement was immense, almost uncontrollable for a moment. He had hoped, dared to dream, that his ability might work on large structures, but he had never truly expected it to copy something as vast and complex as an entire oil refinery in one go. Yet, his unique power, his secret weapon, had delivered beyond his wildest expectations.
He quickly forced himself to calm down, glancing around to make sure his outburst hadn't attracted unwanted attention. Luckily, the street seemed momentarily empty. He took several deep breaths, trying to regain his composure, his mind still reeling from the implications of his success.
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As he slowly backed away from the refinery wall, putting distance between himself and the original structure, deep in thought, a crucial realization struck him. He remembered copying the water bottle, the $100 bill, the gold bar, and now the refinery. And just before, the crude oil itself.
Every time he used the 'Copy' command, the system seemed to interpret his intent and copy the entire object or substance he was focused on, often defaulting to a standard unit (like the cubic meter of oil) or the whole structure (like the factory).
It seemed his power copied everything within the targeted 'object' without discrimination. He hadn't really pushed its limits yet. 'Just how much can I copy at once?' he wondered, a thrill running through him again. Could he copy a whole building full of things? A moving vehicle? Could he copy living things? The possibilities seemed vast, almost frightening, hinting at a power far greater than he had initially grasped.
But he quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Now was not the time for experiments. He had achieved his objective – he had a refinery blueprint, a complete copy stored away. Now, he needed to implement the next phase of his plan, quickly and discreetly. He needed to get back to his land.
With his mind firmly set on his goal, Adam turned away from the imposing Green Refinery complex. He walked briskly to the nearest bus stop, his earlier aches momentarily forgotten in the rush of adrenaline and success. He boarded the next bus heading back out of the industrial city, towards the quiet, remote countryside where his newly acquired land awaited – the place where Fire Corporation would truly be born.
The journey back felt much shorter this time, his mind buzzing with plans and anticipation. After what felt like only a short while, the bus pulled over at the same deserted stop where he had gotten off earlier that day. Adam stepped off, clutching his bag, his eyes scanning the empty surroundings carefully.
The landscape was just as quiet and isolated as before. No people walking along the road, no cars parked nearby, just the gentle whisper of the wind through the tall grass and the distant chirping of birds. Perfect. Satisfied that he was completely alone, he quickly made his way down the slight slope off the road and onto his own property.
Once he was well onto his land, far from the road, Adam stopped and took a moment to look around. The empty field stretched out before him, bathed in the warm afternoon sun. It looked peaceful, unremarkable, just acres of open space.
But Adam saw it differently now. He saw it as a blank canvas, a foundation, the future site of his operations. He mentally double-checked the area, confirming there were no hidden onlookers, no signs of recent activity other than his own footprints from earlier. The isolation was key.
Now came the next critical step. He needed the machinery to actually use the oil he had pasted underground. He reached into his backpack – the physical one this time – and pulled out a worn, slightly crumpled magazine he had bought a few days ago. It was a trade publication, something related to industrial equipment.
He flipped through the glossy pages quickly, his fingers slightly trembling with anticipation. He knew exactly what he was looking for. And there it was – a detailed photograph, clear and sharp, taking up half a page, showcasing a standard model of a crude oil extraction machine. A pumpjack, sometimes called a 'nodding donkey' – the iconic machine used to pump oil up from underground wells.
His heart pounded again. 'This is it,' he thought, his focus narrowing. 'This is the next piece of the puzzle.' Could his power work from just a picture? He had copied physical objects, even complex structures. But copying something from a two-dimensional image in a magazine? It seemed like a stretch. But he had to try.
Adam carefully tore the page out of the magazine and placed it flat on a large, relatively smooth rock nearby. He knelt down beside it, took a deep breath, and held his hand hovering just inches above the printed image of the extraction machine. He closed his eyes again, focusing all his mental energy on the picture, on the idea of the machine, its function, its form. He whispered the command, his voice filled with hope:
"Copy this machine."
He waited, holding his breath, concentrating intensely. As before, the faint blue glow flickered in his vision. A system window materialized. He snapped his eyes open, eagerly reading the message:
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Congratulations! The host has successfully copied one [Model ZX-7 Crude Oil Extraction Pumpjack] from the provided image! Item stored in inventory slot 4.
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A huge, unrestrained grin split Adam's face. He leaped to his feet, throwing his hands high in the air, letting out a whoop of pure joy. "YES! It worked! It worked from a picture!" he shouted to the empty field, jumping up and down with excitement.
He couldn't believe it! Copying from a photograph! This opened up incredible new possibilities! His power was even more versatile, more potent than he had dared to imagine! He could potentially copy anything he could find a clear picture of!
His spontaneous celebration was cut short, however, by the sudden, loud rumble of an approaching truck on the nearby road. The unexpected noise startled him badly, freezing him mid-jump.
He instantly felt foolish, realizing how exposed he was, how ridiculous he must have looked celebrating alone in an empty field. He quickly dropped his hands, smoothed his expression, and stood perfectly still, turning slightly away from the road, hoping the truck driver hadn't noticed his strange behavior. He held his breath, listening intently, until the sound of the truck's engine faded away into the distance.
Once the road was clear again and the quiet stillness returned, Adam let out a sigh of relief. He needed to be more careful, more aware of his surroundings, even out here. He couldn't afford any mistakes, any unwanted attention.
He knelt back down on the soft earth of his land, near the spot where he had pasted the crude oil earlier. His excitement returned, now tempered with focus. He placed his hand firmly on the ground, feeling the soil beneath his palm. Taking a deep breath, he spoke the command, his voice steady, clear, filled with purpose:
"Paste crude oil extraction machine."
A brilliant blue light erupted from the ground directly in front of him. It wasn't explosive, but intense, casting sharp shadows across the field for a few seconds.
Then, as quickly as it appeared, the glow faded. And where there had been only empty grass moments before, now stood a full-sized, brand new, perfectly assembled crude oil extraction machine – an exact, three-dimensional replica of the one in the magazine picture. It gleamed slightly in the sun, solid, real, ready to work.
Adam exhaled deeply, a profound sense of accomplishment washing over him. His unique ability, his secret power, had allowed him to materialize a vital piece of complex industrial equipment out of literally thin air, using only a photograph as a template.
This wasn't just copying; this felt like creation. This was the key to unlocking the wealth hidden beneath his feet. This proved Kim’s biggest concern – acquiring equipment secretly – was solvable for Adam in a way no one else could imagine.
Encouraged by this incredible success, feeling bold and empowered, Adam felt his resolve harden further. He had the land. He had the oil underground. He now had the machine to extract it. What was missing? The facility to process it, store it, manage it. He had the copy of Green Refinery stored in his inventory. Could he…?
With the taste of victory still fresh, fueled by the successful materialization of the pumpjack, he decided to take the biggest, most audacious step yet. He placed his palm firmly on the ground once more, took a deep breath, pictured the vast refinery complex stored in his inventory, and uttered the words that felt like they could change the world, or at least his world:
"Paste factory."
Almost instantly, a massive, flashing red warning window exploded into his vision, much larger and more alarming than the usual blue notifications. The system blared a mental alert:
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Warning! Critical Error!
The dimensions of the selected object [Green Refinery Complex] exceed the available surface area of the host's legally owned property! Pasting operation cannot proceed as configured.
Would the host like the system to automatically adjust the factory layout and scale to fit the available land?
[Yes - Adjust to Fit] [No - Cancel Paste]
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For a split second, Adam's heart leaped into his throat, seized by a sudden wave of panic. Exceeds the available land? Of course it did! Green Refinery was enormous, sprawling over probably hundreds of hectares! His land was only ten.
He hadn't considered the size limitation! "I almost got scared to death for a moment!" he thought, placing a hand instinctively over his rapidly beating heart, trying to calm himself down. He had almost made a catastrophic error, trying to paste something impossibly large.
But then he saw the second part of the message: Adjust the factory size to fit the land? The system was offering a solution! It could automatically scale down or reconfigure the copied refinery to fit within the boundaries of his ten-hectare property! Relief washed over him, quickly followed by renewed determination. This was still possible!
Summoning all his courage, trusting the mysterious system, he quickly, decisively, mentally clicked the [Yes - Adjust to Fit] option.
The moment he confirmed his choice, the ground beneath his feet began to tremble. Not just a small vibration, but a deep, powerful shaking that grew stronger by the second.
Alarmed by the intensity, realizing something massive was about to happen, Adam scrambled backwards, dashing away from the spot where he'd initiated the paste, running as fast as his still-aching legs could carry him towards the edge of his property. He didn't know what to expect, but staying close felt incredibly dangerous.
He hadn't gotten far when a massive, blinding blue glow erupted from the center of his land, spreading outwards rapidly, illuminating the entire ten-hectare field in a surreal, electric blue light. The light was so intense it momentarily washed out the afternoon sun. The trembling intensified, the ground shaking violently now.
And then, the impossible began to happen.
Out of thin air, seemingly constructed by invisible hands moving at impossible speeds, industrial structures began to form within the glowing blue area.
Metal frameworks appeared, solidified. Pipelines snaked across the land, connecting points that didn't exist seconds before. Tall, cylindrical distillation towers rose majestically from the earth like metallic trees growing in fast motion.
Storage tanks materialized, gleaming and new. Control buildings, workshops, loading docks – the intricate machinery and infrastructure of a complex oil refinery assembled itself piece by piece, section by section, right before his astonished eyes. It was like watching a time-lapse video of years of construction happening in mere seconds.
Adam stood at a safe distance, near the edge of his property line, his breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide with disbelief and awe. He watched, utterly transfixed, as the massive construction unfolded. Just moments ago, this had been an empty, unremarkable field.
Now, replacing that emptiness, growing within the fading blue glow, was a gigantic, fully formed, operational-looking oil refinery. It wasn't an exact replica of the sprawling Green Refinery – the system had clearly scaled it down, rearranged components, perhaps optimized the layout to fit within his ten hectares – but it was undeniably a refinery. His refinery.
As the last blue glow faded, the trembling ground stilled. Silence returned, broken only by the gentle whisper of the wind. Adam stood there, staring at the incredible structure that now dominated his land. It looked solid, real, permanent. He had done it.
Using only his secret power, he had transformed a barren piece of land into the functional heart of his emerging empire in a matter of minutes.
He let out a long, shaky breath, the air filled with relief, triumph, and a profound sense of accomplishment. 'This is real,' he thought, the confirmation settling deep within him. His plan, his seemingly impossible dream, had worked beyond his wildest imaginings. Fire Corporation wasn't just an idea anymore, wasn't just a name on paper waiting to be registered. It was here. It was tangible. It was real.
Standing there, outside the perimeter fence of his brand new, instantly constructed refinery, Adam felt a powerful surge of elation mixed with fierce determination. His ability to copy and paste wasn't just a trick; it was a tool of creation, a power capable of reshaping reality itself. It had allowed him to bypass years of planning, investment, construction, and regulation. It had given him the foundation of his future empire, literally overnight.
The memory of the system windows flashed in his mind – copying the refinery, copying the pumpjack from a photo, pasting them onto his land. Each success reinforced his belief: with this power, maybe nothing was truly impossible.
This unique skill was his ultimate secret weapon, the advantage that set him apart in this ruthless world ruled by money and connections. Fire Corporation was born, and its power source was the incredible, reality-bending ability hidden within its founder. The game had changed irrevocably.
