The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 22: The New Normal

Jin exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. The weight of his blade felt natural now—like an extension of his arm rather than something foreign in his grip.

He adjusted his stance, feeling the dirt beneath his boots. The street was eerily quiet, the remains of old vehicles rusting on either side.

Then came the growl.

A low, guttural sound that sent a ripple through the still air.

It was close.

Jin's grip tightened around the hilt of his katana.

"Stay sharp," he murmured.

Echo crouched slightly, his fingers twitching near his ear as if ready to amplify the faintest noise. Joon flexed his hands, the circuits in his gloves glowing faintly with stored energy.

And then—

It lunged.

The Mawfiend burst from behind a toppled truck, its lean, sinewy body cutting through the air.

Its four crimson eyes locked onto Jin. Its muscles coiled like compressed springs, and then—it pounced.

Jin reacted instantly.

His body moved before his mind could catch up, his katana already swinging up. A perfect counter.

CLANG.

The blade bit into its hide—but barely. It was like cutting into iron. The force of the impact rattled through Jin's arms.

The Mawfiend hit the ground, claws scraping against the pavement as it skidded backward. It barely looked wounded.

Jin's breath came steady. He wasn't surprised.

Monsters weren't easy to kill anymore.

The beast stalked forward, saliva dripping from its jagged maw.

Joon scoffed. "You're telling me that didn't work?"

Jin didn't answer. He shifted his grip, already analyzing.

Too fast. Too strong. The katana alone wouldn't be enough.

The Mawfiend lunged again.

Jin ducked, rolling under its swipe. Instinct. Precision. Fluid movement.

He rose into a sharp counter-slash—aiming for the softest point: the joint behind its leg.

This time, the blade cut deep.

The beast screeched, stumbling forward.

Joon didn't hesitate. A burst of light—Arc Blast.

The impact slammed into the monster's ribs, sending it staggering.

Echo moved next, his voice rippling through the air, amplifying its own roar back at it. The Mawfiend flinched, disoriented.

It was working.

Then—Jin made a mistake.

He stepped forward. Too fast. Too eager.

The Mawfiend twisted at the last second.

Jin's eyes widened—its tail.

A blur of movement.

Impact.

The force slammed into Jin's ribs, knocking the air from his lungs.

He hit the ground hard. The katana skidded from his grip, clattering across the pavement.

Jin gasped, rolling onto his side. The world spun.

The Mawfiend loomed over him, its eyes locked onto its vulnerable prey.

It lunged—

And then, it stopped.

Mid-air.

Jin barely had time to process what happened before—

CRACK.

A fist slammed into the side of the Mawfiend's head.

The impact sent its skull caving inward—a direct, brutal strike.

Blood splattered against the concrete. The monster collapsed, twitching, and then stilled.

Jin's breath came heavy. He looked up.

Seul stood over the body, exhaling sharply.

She flexed her fingers, her glove coated in the monster's blood.

She glanced at Jin. "You good?"

Jin blinked. His ribs ached. His breathing was rough. But he was alive.

He let out a breath. "Yeah."

Seul wiped the blood from her knuckles, her voice flat.

"Then get up."

[System Notification: Kill Confirmed.]

[Awarding Points…]

Jin pushed himself up with a sharp inhale, ribs aching. He ignored the pain, watching as a small notification flickered in his vision.

[Points Earned: 450]

He exhaled. Not bad.

Joon stretched his arms. "Man, that thing was a pain in the ass. How much did we get?"

Echo checked his system. "Less than last time. Only 450."

Joon scowled. "For something that big?"

"Yeah," Echo muttered. "Guess we're not getting bonuses anymore."

Jin wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead. He wasn't surprised. Two weeks ago, weaker monsters gave them double this amount. The system was getting stingy.

Or maybe—it was testing them.

He let out a breath. "Any more nearby?"

Echo closed his eyes slightly, tilting his head as if listening. The air was eerily still.

Finally, he shrugged. "Nothing moving close. If there's anything else out here, it's staying quiet."

Jin nodded. "Then we're heading back."

No one argued. They had done what they came for.

Their boots crunched against cracked asphalt as they moved through the ruined streets.

The city had changed.

Two weeks ago, everything had felt… wilder. Constant screaming. Fires. The sound of monsters ripping into flesh.

Now?

Now, there was an eerie sort of order.

Territories had formed. Buildings had been barricaded and claimed. The police station wasn't the only safe zone anymore—far from it.

Survivors were adapting.

But so were the monsters.

Jin turned his thoughts away from that, rolling his shoulder to ease the lingering ache in his ribs.

Then—Echo laughed.

Jin frowned, glancing over. "What?"

Echo smirked. "Just thinking about how you got your ass kicked back there."

Jin sighed. "I didn't get my ass kicked."

"You got tail-slapped into the pavement."

Joon whistled. "Yeah, man. That was rough."

Jin scowled. "It was a miscalculation."

Echo grinned. "Oh, so that's what we're calling it?"

Jin ignored him. The truth was, Echo wasn't wrong.

He had let his guard down.

It wasn't like him.

Jin wasn't someone who rushed in recklessly. He was careful, methodical. But back there, for just a second—he had overstepped.

That could've killed him.

He exhaled sharply. I won't let that happen again.

His gaze flickered to Seul.

She had saved him. Two weeks ago, she had been the one needing to be saved.

Now, she was the one landing the finishing blow.

He nodded toward her. "You've changed a lot."

Seul glanced at him, expression unreadable.

Jin continued, "The way you moved back there—you're not the same as before."

She was quiet for a moment. Then, she simply said—

"The end of the world does that to people."

Jin blinked.

That was… colder than he expected.

Seul wasn't exactly talkative before, but there had been something softer about her.

Now?

Now, she was just like the rest of them.

Then—she suddenly smirked.

"You looked like a bitch, by the way."

Jin stopped walking. "What?"

Joon laughed. "Oh, she's right. That position was tragic."

Echo wiped fake tears from his eyes. "'Oh no, big scary monster, don't hurt me—'"

Jin sighed, shaking his head. "I hate all of you."

Seul chuckled under her breath.

She was part of the circle now.

And for a brief moment—things almost felt normal.

They kept walking.

The police station was in sight.

The police station stood tall against the backdrop of the ruined city.

Once, it had just been another building. Now, it was a stronghold.

Jin could see the changes immediately.

The entrance was more fortified—makeshift barricades, stacks of sandbags, and reinforced steel plating. A few weeks ago, this place had been a desperate shelter. Now, it was a proper defensive position.

The moment they stepped through the outer gates, they saw it.

Training.

A group of survivors—maybe ten or twelve—stood in formation, sweating, panting, looking like they'd just been put through hell.

And at the front?

Ryu.

The officer paced back and forth, arms crossed, his usual calm, authoritative presence towering over the exhausted group.

"Too slow," Ryu said simply.

A man staggered forward, barely keeping himself upright. "W-We're trying—"

Ryu's gaze snapped toward him. "Try harder."

The man flinched.

One of the officers standing nearby, a woman with her sleeves rolled up, barked out the next command. "Again! Move!"

The survivors groaned but didn't hesitate. They knew better.

Jin exhaled. Déjà vu.

Joon clicked his tongue. "Man, sucks to be them."

Echo smirked. "Didn't we look just like that two weeks ago?"

Jin watched as one of the trainees nearly collapsed mid-sprint—only to be hauled back up by another.

He remembered when that had been them.

Struggling to breathe, sore in every muscle, questioning whether this training even mattered.

Now?

Now, it felt normal.

Jin adjusted the katana at his side. "Guess we got used to it."

Seul tilted her head slightly. "Or we just don't have a choice."

Echo stretched. "Either way, feels kinda nice not to be the ones getting screamed at."

Jin gave a small, tired chuckle. He couldn't argue with that.

They stepped past the training grounds, moving toward the main building. The station was busy, alive, structured.

It didn't feel like a dying world.

It felt like something new.

Something surviving.

Something growing.

And for the first time since this all started—

Jin thought I could get used to this.

Jin stepped past the training grounds, the weight of exhaustion finally starting to settle.

He wasn't injured—not really—but the fight had drained him. They were stronger now, but it didn't mean they weren't still pushing themselves to the limit.

"Jin!"

He turned at the sound of his name, just as Chul jogged up to them.

Jin barely recognized him for a second.

Two weeks ago, Seul's brother had been pale, shaking, his body worn down from fear and fatigue.

Now?

Now, he looked better.

Still tired, still carrying the weight of everything they had been through—but stronger. More stable. More alive.

He was drenched in sweat, his shirt sticking to his back from obvious exertion. He had been training.

Jin raised an eyebrow. "Look at you. You actually look human again."

Chul scoffed. "Screw you."

Seul crossed her arms, eyeing him up and down. "You finally stop running?"

Chul smirked. "Something like that."

He turned to Jin and the others. "Ryu's been working us hard. But honestly?" He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "It helps."

Jin nodded. He understood. When your body was exhausted, your mind had less space for fear.

Echo grinned. "So what, you're one of them now? Gonna start barking orders at the newbies?"

Chul chuckled. "Nah. I'll leave that to Ryu."

Joon cracked his neck. "Good. 'Cause we already have one asshole telling us to run laps."

Jin smirked. For a moment—just a moment—it almost felt normal.

Then—

The air changed.

It started as a pulse. A vibration that wasn't heard, but felt.

A weight pressing against their skulls, their bones.

Jin tensed. His fingers curled into fists.

Then—

The voice.

Smooth. Cold. Unshaken.

"Your break is over."

Silence.

The weight deepened.

And then—it spoke again.

"Your history is written in blood."

"Nations have risen and crumbled under the weight of conquest."

"Peace is an illusion—a fragile thing, built upon a foundation of war."

Jin's jaw clenched. The voice felt closer.

As if it were speaking directly to him.

"You all know this."

"You've seen it—how quickly order turns to chaos. How survival breeds violence. How power demands conflict."

His fingers twitched at his side. The words felt heavy, undeniable.

"Humanity has always fought for land. For control. For dominance."

"You were never meant to simply exist."

"You were meant to take."

Jin's breath came slow. Controlled. He didn't like where this was going.

The voice hummed, almost thoughtful.

"Some of you have gotten stronger."

"Some of you have adapted."

"But it's not enough."

Then—

A pause.

Jin could feel it.

Something shifting.

Something about to change.

The system spoke once more.

"Let's see if you can hold on to what's yours."