The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 194: One Night (Part Seventeen)

The moment they moved, the temperature surged.

Ma-Rok led the charge, her body a blazing blur of molten light. The flame-wrapped staff spun in her grip, each movement trailing arcs of fire that hissed against the ruined concrete beneath her boots. The floor scorched as she sprinted, flame pressure cracking the air like thunder.

Right beside her, Eun-Ja flowed like liquid steel. She didn’t run so much as slide, each step barely touching ground. A spinning ring of light circled her wrist—her inventory field—unleashing a barrage of weapons with a mere flick of the finger.

A whip made of solidified sound. A curved dagger humming with frost. A spiked mace glowing faint green with embedded venom.

The attacks came fast.

Chul launched forward first. The moment Ma-Rok’s staff came swinging in a wide horizontal arc, flames lashing out with a roar, he dropped low—fist glowing with stored kinetic charge. Her staff scraped over his shoulder like a comet’s tail, heat searing his jacket.

His next punch detonated against her side with a thundering burst, the redirected flame pressure packed behind the strike.

Ma-Rok flew back, twisting mid-air, landing in a skid that melted a three-foot trench across the ground.

Before she could recover, Hanseong appeared in front of her, katana flashing.

His blade came down in a vertical cleave, but she caught it mid-swing with her staff—both weapons locking in a shriek of metal and heat. Her eyes narrowed.

"You’re not bad," she muttered, flame building at her heels. "But I burn hotter."

The ground under her cracked as she launched upward, driving Hanseong back with a downward slam of flame.

Meanwhile, Seul’s eyes tracked Eun-Ja.

The multi-skilled Cell weaved through the battlefield, each hand motion summoning another attack. She lashed out with the sound whip, sending it coiling at Seul like a serpent.

Seul stepped back, snapped her fingers.

Gravity flipped—the whip slammed into the floor instead, crushed under its own rebounding mass.

Eun-Ja grinned. "So you’re the one with gravity."

She countered instantly, her next motion mimicking Seul’s own—summoning a pressure collapse from above. Gravity mimicry, stolen from someone else.

But it wasn’t hers.

Seul’s lips curled. She shifted the pressure angle diagonally, shattering Eun-Ja’s copied vector. The mimic field buckled.

"You’re not the first thief I’ve dealt with," Seul said coolly. "And you won’t be the last."

From the side, Chul reentered the fight—his fists glowing with flame-converted charge. He struck again, this time blasting Ma-Rok back with a right hook that erupted like a cannon shot. Her body smashed through a stone post and skidded across molten floor.

She staggered to her feet, the ends of her coat smoking, one arm trembling.

Her staff glowed white-hot now, heat leaking from her every breath. Even the air near her looked warped, liquid and unsteady.

"You’re burning too hard," Eun-Ja called from behind her, sidestepping a retaliatory chain of slashes from Hanseong. "Reel it in or you’ll burn yourself out."

Ma-Rok turned her head, sneering.

"I don’t need your commentary. If it’s too hot, leave the damn battlefield."

Eun-Ja’s smile didn’t falter. "You sure?"

Ma-Rok didn’t answer. She charged again—this time going straight for Seul, who had just finished warping a fallen slab of debris into a gravitational wall. Ma-Rok burst through it like it was made of paper, her body engulfed in flame so intense even the ash refused to float.

But as her staff came crashing down, Chul intercepted.

This time, he didn’t dodge.

He caught the staff with one hand—skin burning, shoulder trembling—but redirected the force through his spine, down his legs, and into the earth.

"Got you," he muttered—and drove his knee into her gut with the full fury of stored kinetic backlash.

Ma-Rok coughed blood, flying back again.

Eun-Ja didn’t move.

Not at first.

Then, slowly, she began to walk toward Ma-Rok. Her hands flexed once, and a black obsidian blade slid into her hand from the ring around her wrist.

"Enough playing," she said gently.

Ma-Rok was on one knee, one hand planted against the ground, staff glowing brighter now than ever before.

"You got something to say?" she rasped.

"You’re losing control. This flame’s beyond you."

"Bullshit," Ma-Rok spat. "It’s mine. Always has been."

"I’m sure," Eun-Ja replied, her voice like silk. "But see, I prefer control."

Ma-Rok growled, standing with effort. "Then get the hell off my battlefield."

Eun-Ja stopped in front of her.

"I’d rather take over yours."

The blade plunged straight into Ma-Rok’s chest.

Not dramatic. No scream. Just the wet sound of flesh giving way.

Ma-Rok’s staff dropped from her hand.

"You..." she breathed.

"I told you. You were going to burn yourself out."

Ma-Rok swayed, flame still sparking across her body.

With a snarl, she surged forward, grabbing Eun-Ja’s collar.

"Warden’s gonna be pissed," she rasped. "I can tell her... I never liked you anyway."

"Likewise."

Ma-Rok raised her arm to release one final eruption—but Eun-Ja moved first.

With a twist, she drove the blade deeper and said coolly, "I’ll just say those bastards killed you."

The flame died in Ma-Rok’s eyes.

Then her body slumped, fire extinguishing with a final hiss.

Eun-Ja let the corpse fall.

The moment it hit the floor, her hand flared—the obsidian blade pulsing with energy as it absorbed the glowing sigil etched into Ma-Rok’s forearm. The stolen system skill flowed like liquid light into Eun-Ja’s wrist, embedding itself into her flesh.

She inhaled slowly.

Flames flickered along her fingertips—calmer, more precise than Ma-Rok’s ever were.

"Much better," she whispered. "Control is everything."

From behind her, Seul and Chul exchanged a glance.

Chul cracked his neck, wiping blood from his lip. "She just killed her teammate."

"She also just took her power," Seul said darkly. "We’re not fighting two anymore."

Chul rolled his shoulder. "So we fight one that counts as two."

Eun-Ja looked over her shoulder at them.

"Well then," she said. "Shall we?"

The new flames at her command ignited—spiraling like tendrils from her palms. And for the first time, her smile disappeared.

Now she looked serious.

Eun-Ja’s hands lifted, and the air around her crackled with instability—one side of her body flaring in waves of heat, the other chilling with a frost so sharp the moisture in the air hissed as it froze. Fire danced up her right arm, ice crawled along her left, and beneath both, a dark shimmer twisted the space around her—the signature of borrowed skills. Not learned. Stolen.

Chul narrowed his eyes. "She’s using them like she was born with them."

Seul shifted her stance, boots grinding into cracked stone. "She might’ve killed a hundred people to get this comfortable."

A soft smile tugged at Eun-Ja’s lips, as if she heard them. She lifted one foot and stepped forward—casual. Calm. Then vanished.

No sound. No wind.

Just the sudden scream of elemental chaos erupting in the air beside Chul.

A wave of heat burst across his flank—Ma-Rok’s signature flame burst, now amplified. He ducked just in time, redirecting the thermal impact into his palm, his skin glowing faint gold. It built into his shoulder like a winding spring.

But she was already moving again.

Across the battlefield, Seul grunted as a flash of frost exploded at her feet—spikes of black ice shooting upward. She warped gravity immediately, pulling herself out of the zone, the ice shattering beneath its own weight.

"She’s fast," Seul muttered.

"No," Hanseong said, blade in hand, eyes locked on Eun-Ja’s trajectory. "She’s clean. Every move’s practiced."

A streak of flame shot between them.

Chul caught it with a forearm block, the fire wrapping around him—but he held steady, absorbing the burn, teeth clenched. When it died down, he launched forward, golden energy coiling through his arm.

He struck.

The hit connected—almost.

Eun-Ja twisted mid-air, her body turning fluidly around the punch. The heat she’d discharged had delayed Chul’s timing by a fraction—and that was enough. She countered with a close-range ice burst that coated his side in frost, momentarily locking up his left shoulder.

Then, gravity shifted.

Seul launched in from above, a crater blooming behind her from the force of the descent. She came down with a focused pressure strike, compacted into her foot like a localized meteor.

Eun-Ja’s smile returned—briefly.

She activated a mimic skill again, blinking to the side with a speed that shouldn’t have been possible.

"Teleportation," Hanseong growled. "She just used one of ours."

"She’s storing techniques," Seul said, adjusting mid-air. "We need to overwhelm her before she can sort through them."

As if to challenge that logic, Eun-Ja raised both hands and slammed them together.

A pulse of dual-element energy erupted—one side fire, the other ice—spiraling in opposite directions and colliding at the center. A perfect storm of contradiction.

Seul threw up a defensive field, dragging Hanseong and Chul inside just before the blast hit. The outer ring of the field hissed and cracked, steam billowing from its edges.

The pulse faded—and Eun-Ja stood alone on the other side, hair slightly tousled, a single burn across her cheek.

It only made her look more alive.

"Not bad," she called, her voice like music wrapped in menace. "You three fight like clockwork. I like that."

She rolled her shoulders.

"But I’ve taken apart better."

She blinked again.

This time, it wasn’t teleportation.

It was acceleration.

She surged toward Hanseong, hands weaving complex signs in the air. From her palms burst a wave of compressed air-blades—jagged, slicing winds that spun in spirals, each edge humming with high-pitched resonance.

Hanseong dodged the first set and sliced through the second. But the third came from beneath him, a redirected blast from one of her earlier attacks.

It nicked his thigh—deep. Blood splattered.

She landed beside him, going for a follow-up—an elbow laced with gravity pressure. Another mimic.

But before it landed, Chul shot in from the side, grabbing Hanseong midair and hurling him away, taking the hit himself.

He hit the ground hard, flames and gravity shock rattling his spine.

"Chul—" Seul started.

"I’m good," he grunted, steam rising from his skin. "More fuel."

He looked up.

"Let’s finish this."

Seul nodded once.

She reached out—not at Eun-Ja, but at Chul.

Her gravity wrapped around his shoulders, his arms, compressing his entire form with increasing force—not crushing him, but focusing his structure, making him the center of an imminent collapse field.

Chul’s body pulsed gold.

"I’m going to fire you like a bullet," she said calmly. "Redirect if you miss."

He grinned. "Won’t miss."

On the other side, Hanseong adjusted his grip. His sword shimmered—flickering with a blade-stepping charge.

"I’ll follow," he said.

Eun-Ja started to speak—some quip, some last line.

Too late.

Seul launched Chul like a cannon round.

He blurred through the air, a golden missile—every muscle rippling, a symphony of stored force detonating in his core. Eun-Ja moved to dodge—blinked—

But Hanseong’s blade appeared behind her.

She twisted—

And then Chul hit her.

Straight in the chest.

The impact wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t a flame burst or an explosion.

It was a collapse.

Every stored attack. Every heat wave. Every redirected kinetic burst. Every gravity vector Seul compressed into him.

Released in one punch.

The sound vanished for a moment. The world stopped.

Then—

A blast crater bloomed beneath them, rock folding inward, dirt shooting out in waves. Air imploded. The sky above pulsed.

Eun-Ja shot backwards, limbs flailing. She was still alive—but dazed.

And that’s when Seul appeared above her.

She flipped once, rotating mid-air—and dropped both palms down, gravity pulsing along her arms.

"Zero Frame: Crush Vector."

The hit landed on Eun-Ja’s chest just as she touched ground again.

A second crater formed. This time deeper. Sharper.

Eun-Ja gasped, eyes wide.

Then went still.

The light from her mimic fields flickered once more.

And then died.

Smoke drifted from her chest. Her eyes fluttered. Her lips twitched—but no sound came.

Chul dropped to one knee, panting hard. Hanseong stood behind him, sword sheathed.

Seul stood over the still form of Eun-Ja, her palms still glowing faintly.

It was over.

Silence fell.

Only the wind moved, carrying with it the bitter taste of ash and victory.