The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 192: One Night (Part Fifteen)

Echo’s body was still sparking, aura rippling around his limbs like a pulse of angry thunder. His expression was blank, eerily detached. His lips parted, but no words came—only the faint hum of static dancing on the back of his tongue.

Eun Hae’s hand lingered on his shoulder, her nails curling slightly as her smirk deepened. "Go on, darling," she murmured. "Let them feel your music."

The command clicked somewhere deep in Echo’s bones.

A sharp, shrill crack of compressed air burst beneath his boots. The tiles shattered. He launched forward like a thunderbolt fired from a railgun—blurred, bent around edges of space, a living missile hurtling toward Kang Hyun.

Hyun’s eyes didn’t widen. Didn’t twitch.

He simply sighed.

"Sorry about this..." he muttered, already lowering his stance.

His bow didn’t move. But his fingers twitched.

The arrows came—not from his fingers, but from every joint in his body.

They phased into reality around him in shimmering lines of light, then solidified into sleek momentum-forged shafts.

A named skill activated in silence.

"Thousand Point Break."

They launched in the blink between blinks.

Dozens. No—hundreds.

Each arrow struck Echo mid-flight. Not to pierce his vitals, but to catch motion itself—his momentum suspended, redirected, and fractured like mirrors.

Echo’s body jerked to the side, twisted violently, then shot backward from a new angle—only to be caught again by a second volley that forced him through a spinning tumble in mid-air.

Then again. And again.

The entire room shifted with him. Tiles burst apart. Sonic booms popped with every rebound as he ricocheted off walls, floor, and even air itself. Every arrow pulsed like a miniature rail, slinging him around the chamber in a violent strobe of distorted movement.

His power sparked with each collision, his aura destabilizing, spikes of static blaring like feedback.

"Sorry, kid," Hyun said, voice low. "I’ve been through worse. You’ll thank me later."

The echoes he emitted—grating, broken, piercing—began to tear through the fog in his mind. Eun Hae’s grip cracked slightly. The hold on his nerves flickered.

A flicker. But still not enough.

And that was when Yujin moved.

"Hyun—cover me," she called.

Her circlet glowed as she reached for it, pressed her palm against its surface, and focused—not just on form, but essence.

The silver band burned white, lines inscribed with beastly runes flaring to life.

Her body tensed. Breath halted.

Then—shift.

White fur blossomed along her limbs in pulses. Her feet cracked into claws. Her teeth elongated, eyes turning a glowing amber hue with elliptical slits.

But this wasn’t the fire-breathing dragon of before.

This time, she didn’t feel heat.

She felt cold, calculated protection.

The Baekho had awakened.

Snow-white tiger stripes traced her arms and legs like ancient etchings. Her shoulders broadened, spine thickened with protective plating. Claws like crescent moons shimmered with bluish energy, and the venom in the air no longer made her stomach twist.

She exhaled. And lunged.

Eun Hae’s eyes flicked just slightly—enough to register the white blur hurtling toward her.

"Another pet? Fine."

She turned, one hand dragging her fingernails across the air. Threads of violet venom energy slashed out like lashes.

Yujin didn’t dodge.

She tanked.

The claws scraped her side but didn’t pierce. Her thickened fur absorbed the force.

She countered mid-lunge, spinning into a tail whip that crashed against Eun Hae’s ribcage, knocking her across the room.

Prisoners scrambled out of the way. Some weren’t fast enough.

The impact took out a cluster of them. Broken bones. Winded screams.

Yujin didn’t slow.

She chased.

Eun Hae hissed, flicking blood off her chin, her smirk returning despite the blow.

"That hurt..." she cooed, eyes narrowing. "I don’t like you."

She raised both arms. Her aura surged with purple-black tendrils of seduction and toxin. Sound warped again, her voice attempting to sneak its way into Yujin’s head—but it couldn’t find footing.

The Baekho didn’t entertain whispers.

Yujin roared.

It wasn’t just sound—it was an aural pulse that shook the breath from everyone in the chamber. Her claws ignited with spectral energy as she closed the distance, moving like a primal blur of judgment.

Claw met fang. Grace met frenzy.

Their collision shattered another wall.

Meanwhile, Echo was still mid-pinball—Hyun’s arrows forcing him into a crash course of his own chaotic melody.

But now, he was starting to resist.

He didn’t stop—couldn’t—but his aura grew sharper with each rebound. His soundwaves began counteracting the movement, catching microbeats of stillness in the gaps between arrow collisions.

He wasn’t free yet.

But he was remembering who he was.

Yujin and Eun Hae tumbled across the floor—one a blur of claws, the other a mist of venom.

At one point, Eun Hae lashed out with a chain of sharpened hair, coated in nerve-dulling toxin.

Yujin caught it in her teeth, snapped it in half, and growled.

Her claws raked forward.

But Eun Hae vanished into a mist of pheromones and appeared behind her, slicing down with razor fingertips.

Yujin twisted mid-air, tail slamming into Eun Hae’s chest, sending her skidding back.

"Hyun!" she shouted. "We need Echo back."

Hyun didn’t answer. His arrows were reloading again, streaks of light forming a new lattice across the air.

Echo’s body hit one final wall and dropped like a meteor, landing in a cratered dent in the floor.

Steam hissed off his shoulders. Blood trailed down his arm.

But his eyes flickered.

His jaw clenched.

His fingers twitched, sound condensing around his palms.

He remembered her touch. The voice. The scent.

And now, his rage began tuning the frequency.

His aura pulsed again—slower this time, like a slow inhale before a crescendo.

Then, silence.

Everything was still.

Too still.

Yujin stood over Eun Hae, panting.

Eun Hae rose again—bruised, laughing softly, her voice still velvet.

"End her."

Yujin turned slightly, and her eyes widened.

Echo now stood in front of her.

His hands were down.

But his expression was vacant.

He raised one hand.

Sound warped around them.

A sharp thrum of bass ripped through the air—dense, vibrating, fast.

It struck Yujin point-blank.

The wave of compressed sonic force blasted her backwards, sending her crashing through a rusted table, metal folding like foil beneath her weight. She tumbled once—twice—then rolled to a stop, claws digging into the ground to keep from sliding farther.

She coughed, stunned.

"E–Echo...?"

He didn’t answer. His face remained blank. Hollow. Eyes distant, like he wasn’t even looking at her—like he was looking through her.

Eun Hae rose slowly behind him, brushing dirt from her shoulders. She was still bruised, her lip split, her cheek purpling, but her smile never faded.

She stepped forward and draped an arm across his shoulders from behind, her movements slow, almost reverent.

"You’re beautiful when obedient," she purred.

And then—she kissed him.

Long. Deep. Possessive.

Her lipstick smeared across his lips, bright crimson marking him like a brand.

"Thank you," she whispered against his mouth. "Such a good slave."

But her gaze shifted, and her satisfaction cracked when she noticed something.

Kang Hyun was still standing.

His bow was raised. Cold. Calculated.

Her eyes widened. "Sh—"

A storm of momentum-fueled arrows tore through the air.

The first five slammed her off Echo’s body, sending her flipping backward in a blur.

The next ten followed instantly, piercing the ground in front of her, behind her, to her left and right—cornering her midair.

The final three crashed into her body with brutal force, launching her straight into a steel support beam with a metallic crunch that echoed across the prison wing. The wall dented inward from the impact. Smoke rose from her back.

Echo blinked, dazed, lips still stained with red.

Hyun walked up, his boots clanking with each step, voice low and sharp.

"Snap out of it, kid."

No response.

So he slapped him. Hard.

Echo reeled slightly.

"Listen," Hyun growled. "You hurt your own teammate. You think that’s what you want? You think she won’t kill you the second she’s done with you?"

Echo didn’t respond—eyes still hazed, flickering with scattered soundwaves.

Hyun grabbed his collar, pulled him close, their foreheads almost touching.

"If you don’t snap out of this right now," he said, "I swear, the hell I’ll put you through afterward will make her feel like a lullaby."

The vibrations around Echo’s body began to settle. Just slightly.

His eyes twitched. His mouth opened... then closed again.

He staggered backward, one palm covering his temple. His breathing became uneven, deeper, fractured.

"Wh–what... what did I..."

And then, from the far wall—cracks splitting in every direction—Eun Hae’s voice rang out again.

It was no longer soft.

It was shrill. Poisonous.

"Don’t listen to him!" she screamed. Her body emerged slowly from the crater, skin scratched, blood dripping down her temple. "He’s lying to you! I’m the only one who loves you!"

She held out one shaking hand, her aura returning in ripples of dark seduction and venom.

"Come back to me. Kill them. Kill them all!"

But something in her words had shifted.

The tone didn’t land the same. It didn’t wrap around Echo’s ears like it had before. Her voice cracked in places, desperation bleeding into her command.

He didn’t move.

And in that moment, something else did.

A low rumble sounded.

From above.

A golden light flickered across the ceiling.

The shadow of a massive figure fell over Eun Hae from above.

She looked up just in time to see it—a white blur descending like divine judgment.

Yujin.

Fully transformed.

A colossal white tiger, fur striped with glowing celestial marks, her body rippling with energy, eyes burning with clarity and power.

With her roar, the attack was unleashed.

A blade of golden-white energy extended from her outstretched claw, shaped like a massive spectral slash. It struck down with blinding brilliance—light tearing through the gloom of the prison corridor like a divine decree.

Eun Hae tried to scream.

She raised her arms.

But the strike hit before she could finish the word.

The aura-laced claw slammed her into the ground and carved across the hallway—ripping through floor, wall, and cell alike. The beam continued for dozens of meters, leaving a clean scar of destruction in its wake.

The moment it ended, silence returned.

Yujin landed heavily, fur singed slightly from her own attack’s aftershock.

Echo, now back to his knees, stared at the impact zone in disbelief.

In the heart of the crater, Eun Hae twitched once.

Then went still.

Her lipstick-stained mouth was parted. A faint breath left her lungs.

Then—nothing.

Her hand fell to her side.

She didn’t rise again.

Hyun finally lowered his bow. "Good job," he muttered to Yujin.

She nodded once, huffing through her fangs, before reverting back slowly—fur dissolving into mist, limbs shrinking, body returning to her usual form, although still glowing faintly from exertion.

Echo staggered to his feet, one hand pressed to his ribs.

"Gods," he muttered. "What the hell happened...?"

He touched his lips, the red smear still slightly visible.

Hyun gave him a long look, then turned away, muttering, "Don’t ask."

Yujin snorted, rubbing her shoulder. "Next time, don’t let some spider woman make you her lapdog, alright?"

"Hey—" Echo groaned. "She was hot. My brain went on vacation."

They all started to move again, bodies bruised, energy drained—but the corridor was quiet now.

Finally.