The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 93: A Few More Steps

The sun crested the horizon behind the training yard, casting a long shadow from Jin’s figure across the grass.

He didn’t notice.

His eyes were forward now.

Focused.

Ready.

The moment lingered—still, quiet—until a light breeze swept across the yard, tugging faintly at his shirt, the ends of his hair. It cooled the sweat beading at his temple, and with a slow exhale, Jin lowered the staff and glanced up at the paling sky.

The stillness held for just another beat before the world began to stir.

Behind him, faint footsteps tapped across concrete.

He didn’t turn around immediately. Just adjusted the grip on his staff and began walking back across the grounds toward the school. His arms ached from practice, but the ache was good. Familiar. Something he could hold onto.

He passed under the arch of the main hallway entrance, where cool shade met him like a second wind. The building was mostly quiet—most of the base still asleep, recovering from everything they’d been through. But as he moved down the corridor toward the common room, faint voices caught his attention.

Not alarmed voices. Just... talking.

He rounded the corner and spotted two of the recruits leaning against the windowsill, half in shadow, half bathed in morning gold. One of them—Kitae, if he remembered right—was animatedly mimicking something with his hands. The other, Minseo, laughed quietly, half covering his mouth.

Jin leaned against the wall for a second, arms folded, watching them from just out of view. The conversation wasn’t serious—nothing strategic, no dire talk of skills or quests or training. Just memories.

"Back before all this," Jisoo was saying, "I used to skip class and hide behind the art wing. Had this one vending machine that only ever gave you orange soda, even if you picked something else."

Sujin laughed. "You’re lying."

"Swear on my life. Thing was cursed or blessed. I still haven’t decided."

Jin didn’t interrupt right away. For a second, it felt like time folded in on itself—like that quiet moment didn’t belong in the world they lived in now, but somehow... it still found its way through.

He stepped forward, letting his footsteps echo just enough.

Both recruits flinched and snapped to attention.

"Holy—" Jisoo pressed a hand over his chest. "Jin, you scared the life out of me."

Jin raised a brow. "That bad, huh?"

Sujin grinned sheepishly. "Didn’t know anyone else was up yet."

"Didn’t think I’d be interrupting deep vending machine lore," Jin said, smirking.

The two relaxed, the tension slipping away with the joke. Kitae scratched the back of his head. "Sorry. We should be focused on our duties."

"Don’t apologize," Jin said. He looked out the window where morning’s faint glow bled over the courtyard’s edge. "Quiet mornings are nice. Might as well enjoy ’em."

The recruits nodded, but made no move to go. Jin tilted his head slightly.

"Still, if you’re planning to make it to training later, you should grab a couple more hours of sleep."

Jisoo raised a brow. "What about you? You plan on getting any rest?".

Jin gave a half-shrug. "Leaders don’t get rest. Comes with the title."

Sujin looked like he wanted to argue, but Jin’s expression softened before she could.

"I’ll rest later," Jin said. "For now, go. We’ll all need our energy. Never know what the system could throw at us."

The two shared a glance, then nodded. Sujin offered a short bow as they turned down the hallway. "Good morning, hyung."

Jin nodded in return. "Good morning."

As their footsteps faded, he lingered by the window, fingers resting on the cool stone ledge. From here, he could see the whole of the school yard.

As their footsteps faded, he lingered by the window, fingers resting on the cool stone ledge. From here, he could see the whole of the school yard — quiet, dimly lit by the rising sun. There was no wind, no chatter, just stillness.

It grounded him.

He stayed like that for a long moment, eyes following the slow, golden light that stretched across the field.

Then, quietly, he straightened up and opened the system.

No flourish. Just habit.

[SHOP INTERFACE – ACCESSED.]

He hadn’t opened this part of it in a while — not to browse seriously, at least. His points were stacking. He wasn’t reckless about spending. But this morning, something tugged at him. Something deeper than the usual need to be prepared.

It was time to stop leaning.

And start choosing.

The shop responded immediately, categories blooming across his vision.

[Basic Melee Weapons][Intermediate Weapons][Enhanced Weapons][Legendary Weapons – Locked]

He went for [Enhanced Weapons].

The list here was nothing like the one from the first day. Gone were the rusted machetes and bent pipes. These had weight. Precision. Some of them even shimmered faintly in the display as if the system itself was flexing.

Each item listed showed durability, stat compatibility, even a usage rating. It was clear — the system didn’t expect them to fight with scrap anymore.

Jin scrolled slowly.

[Items Available – Enhanced Tier]

Kusarigama: 2,800 PA twin-bladed sickle with a chain-link extension. Agile and deadly in close or mid-range.

Folded Steel Saber: 3,200 PBalanced and curved for adaptive combat. Built to hold momentum through chained movements.

Gravitic Mace: 4,500 PHeavily reinforced, with minor kinetic absorption built in. Ideal for momentum-based strikes.

Vibro-Spike Tonfa: 3,900 PDual-wielded tonfa capable of vibrating at a high frequency. Ideal for disarming or rapid counters.

Talon-Edged Jian Blade: 3,000 PLightweight, narrow. Built for sharpness and speed. Honed edge with piercing capability.

He hovered on that last one.

The Jian wasn’t overly flashy. Wasn’t even the most expensive option. But something about the weight of the description — honed edge, piercing capability — sat right with him. It reminded him of something quiet. Controlled. Lethal, but not loud about it.

He selected it.

[Confirm Purchase – 3,000 P?][Confirming...][Item Transferred to Inventory.]

The blade appeared instantly in his hand, the system’s delivery seamless as usual. It was still light in the yard, just past the cusp of dawn, the sun still low enough to keep the world wrapped in cool blues and pale grays. The blade caught the light anyway.

Not with shine, but with focus.

Its design was elegant. Minimalist. A twin-edged straight blade with a wrapped hilt and a thin ridge running the center of the steel. There was no false power in it. No hum. No glow.

Just a simple blade.

Jin stepped back from the window, gripping the Jian in both hands.

He breathed in.

Then slashed the air.

The sound was clean — a whisper across the air. He pivoted, bringing the blade around again. He wasn’t trained in swordsmanship. Not formally. But his skill allowed him to understand how a weapon could be used. What it was for. Where its weight wanted to go.

And still...

That wasn’t enough anymore.

He moved again. Tried a combination. Left step, low sweep, upward slash into a twist—

Too shallow.

He overcorrected, adjusted, brought the point forward again.

Still not enough.

But something was shifting.

This wasn’t about feeling perfect with it. It was about accepting the discomfort of being at the start.

He stopped, lowering the blade.

His breath fogged lightly in the air. The morning was still cold.

He looked down at the Jian in his hand.

"I’m not gonna be afraid of you," he murmured, voice low but steady. "Not again."

His grip tightened.

"If a blade’s the thing I need to protect them, then I’m done second-guessing."

He looked up toward the horizon. The sky had gone from pale blue to a slow-burning orange, streaks of light beginning to spread through the clouds.

"I won’t let fear be the reason I fall behind."

He turned the blade slightly in his hand, watching the edge tilt into shadow.

"I’ll make this work. I’ll learn. And when the next fight comes... I’ll be ready."

There was a sudden rush of adrenaline.

And then—

[SYSTEM NOTICE: POTENTIAL LIMIT ENCOUNTERED.]

Jin’s heart stopped.

The Jian trembled faintly in his hand — or maybe that was his own fingers.

[Condition Met: Mental Obstruction – Overcome.][Synaptic Reinforcement Engaged.][Jin Yeong’s potential is clashing against his limits.]

A rush—not through his veins, but through his mind—like an echo of something old breaking free.

[SYSTEM NOTICE: Minor Potential Lock – Lifted.][Your actions have aligned with your core.][You may now begin the Weapon Bonding Process.]

Jin blinked.

[Weapon Bonding Available]

[Note: Bonding will begin passive tracking of growth through technique, focus, and intent.]

There was no stat increase. No bonus buff.

Just the promise of progress.

The kind that comes with time.

He sheathed the sword slowly. No thrill. No more adrenaline. But something settled in his chest — something that felt like clarity.

Maybe this was what it meant to stop being reactive.

To choose something, and commit.

He stepped back to the center of the training yard.

Raised the blade again.

And began to move. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Not with skill. Not with ease.

But with purpose.