The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 185: One Night (Part Seven)

The ceiling split.

Cracks raced along the reinforced concrete, dust pouring down in sheets as the hallway quaked. Somewhere above them, something massive had collided with the structure—maybe a body, maybe an attack, maybe both. The aftershock rippled through the southern wing like a slow-breaking wave.

Chul stepped forward first, eyes sharp and scanning. His right fist clenched once, tension bleeding up his arm. The metal buckle of his gauntlet sparked faintly, the system threads within responding to his rising pulse.

Seul didn’t say anything. Her senses had already expanded, threads of gravitational pressure mapping the space like invisible nerves. The shape of the hallway. The subtle displacements of air. The shifting weight of footsteps.

They were surrounded.

Prisoners had swarmed to the south side—maybe drawn by the sound, maybe herding toward the source of the blast. A dozen at first. Then more.

"Looks like we’re on the clock," Chul muttered.

Seul didn’t look at him. "Just don’t bring the roof down."

He smiled, raised his hand—and vanished.

At least to the eyes of the untrained.

The moment he moved, the space in front of him buckled.

Chul appeared in front of a charging prisoner and slammed his fist into the man’s gut. Not just a punch—an expulsion. The kinetic force didn’t just impact the man; it folded around him, compressed, then exploded outward in a circular blast that rippled through the air.

The prisoner flew backward, slamming into two others. All three hit the wall hard enough to dent the metal support beams behind it.

The floor cracked beneath Chul’s foot.

Another enemy rushed in from his blindside, swinging a jagged blade low. But the weapon’s trajectory stuttered—tilted—and missed entirely.

Seul had altered its path.

She stood five meters back, palm hovering just above the floor. Her gravitational control was exact—threaded not just through the room, but through the fight itself. Weight shifts, motion drags, balance distortions. Her target stumbled, and Chul capitalized with a pivoting backhand that caught him clean across the face.

A second after impact, the man was hurled backward—not just by force, but by something deeper. Like the pain Chul delivered had been delayed, compressed into a single moment, then unleashed all at once.

Another three came in from the left. One raised a glimmering shield—Greek in shape, ornate in design. Another held twin axes that sparked faintly at the edges, biting at the air. The third carried a massive staff, wrapped in bandages and humming low with power.

"Special equipment," Chul muttered.

Seul’s eyes narrowed. "Careful."

Too late.

The man with the staff swung first—downward, a hammering blow meant to crush. Chul ducked under it, letting the weapon slam into the ground beside him. Dust erupted in a cloud.

The follow-up came from the ax-wielder—faster than he looked, his movements reinforced by some enhancement skill. But Seul had already predicted it. With a flex of her hand, the gravity beneath him intensified—just for a split second. Enough to ruin his step.

His foot slammed down harder than intended. The shift in weight made his swing go wide.

Chul rolled forward, coming up inside the ax-man’s guard. He didn’t punch this time—he placed a palm against his chest and whispered, "Return to sender."

The force from the earlier attack—the blow that had cracked the ground—erupted outward. It wasn’t visible, not truly. But it moved like pressure breaking glass. The ax-wielder flew.

The shield-bearer advanced. He wasn’t as flashy. He just moved with purpose, crouched behind the myth-forged wall in front of him. His lips moved—a chant?

Seul stepped forward now, gravity surging outward like a wave. The floor under the man’s feet turned to molasses in density—he didn’t fall, but his knees buckled slightly.

That was enough.

Chul took a step and vanished again, appearing behind the man with a spin and a kick that didn’t even connect directly. But the echo of that motion—converted through Chul’s ability—blasted the man forward. The shield left his hand. He tumbled twice and didn’t get up.

Seul flicked a strand of dust off her shoulder. "Too many enhancements. Trial rewards, probably."

Chul nodded. "They’re getting smarter. Coordinated, too."

Another explosion shook the hallway—farther this time. A reminder that the whole facility might collapse if they weren’t careful.

Seul tilted her head, refocusing her range. "There’s more coming."

"They just don’t learn."

This time, they moved together.

Chul charged forward like a human missile. Seul kept close behind, using gravity pulses to slow the incoming fighters. They wove between blows, around spears and chains and blades—dozens of weapons, some named and glowing faintly with power.

One man shouted, pulling a weapon from his back.

Seul’s eyes flicked to it. A halberd—something with Nordic script. Heavy. Charged.

She snapped her fingers.

The halberd slammed into the ground.

He tried to lift it, grunted, then screamed as the weight increased exponentially. Chul didn’t stop to finish him—just ducked around and planted a strike in someone else’s ribs. The man folded inward, breath gone before he hit the ground.

But they were being pushed from all sides.

More prisoners entered the fray. Some looked scared. Others? Confident. They’d clearly gained power—some through the trials, others through raids, looting, or dark system routes.

A woman stepped into view now, holding a trident glowing with a silver-blue hue. She wasn’t charging in recklessly. She was calm. Focused.

Chul recognized the type. Leader. Stronger than the rest.

He flexed his right arm. A new device snapped into place—an armband, dark red with obsidian trim. He hadn’t used it yet. Not until now.

Seul glanced at it. "That the one from the arena?"

"Yeah. Stores force and I’ve got plenty saved. Also helps me do a ton of other cool tricks."

He stepped forward—just a touch. The trident-wielder reacted immediately, swinging wide in a defensive arc.

Chul didn’t move again.

The wave of force that hit her was invisible but immediate. She flew sideways, crashing into three of her own men.

Seul followed up with a gravity shockwave—low and rolling, knocking the rest down like dominos.

They kept moving.

Twelve opponents down in a minute. Twenty more behind them.

And still coming.

Seul’s breath stayed even, but her eyes were sharp now. "We can’t hold this forever."

Chul’s grin didn’t fade. "We don’t need forever."

He raised his arm again.

"Just long enough."

The hallway behind them was chaos. Downed bodies lined the floor—some groaning, others still. The metallic taste of system-processed blood hung in the air, mingling with smoke and static. Most of the fallen weren’t dead. Not yet. But none of them were getting back up anytime soon.

Yet the next wave didn’t hesitate. From the far end of the corridor, a man stepped forward, slower than the rest. Tall. Lean. Skin webbed in veins that glowed a sickly yellow-green. The moment his feet touched the scuffed tile, the air grew heavier.

Seul felt it immediately.

"Chul," she said.

"Yeah. I see him."

The man stopped. Raised his hand.

And the world screamed.

It wasn’t a sound. Not exactly. It was the tearing of space—a ripping shriek like someone had shoved a railgun through a straw. The energy shimmered around the man’s wrist, and a beam of compressed light erupted forward, straight down the corridor.

Fast.

Blinding.

Violent.

Seul reacted first.

She snapped her hands together, a wall of dense gravity flashing into place.

It didn’t hold.

The beam tore through it, cracking the pressure apart like shattering glass. Chul moved, grabbing her shoulder and dragging her back. His other hand shot forward, fist open, palm aiming at the oncoming blast.

"Repel."

The air around his arm distorted. A concussive shock burst forward—not a punch, not even force, but displacement. Like reality blinked.

The beam met it.

And bent.

It curved mid-flight, slamming into the wall beside them, carving through solid stone and metal plating like butter. Explosions followed in its wake. Smoke, fire, collapse.

Seul coughed once, catching her footing. "He has a powerful weapon."

"Yeah." Chul grinned. "Good thing that it wasn’t too effective."

The wall behind them cracked again, then collapsed in a rush of smoke and sparks. Chul surged forward, pushing through the debris. The enemy was recharging. Chul didn’t give him time.

He planted his feet, raised both arms.

The armband around his wrist flared bright red.

He struck the air.

There was no impact target. Just a downward swing. But the moment the movement completed, the pressure of every motion he’d stored surged forward—blast-waves of condensed force erupting through the corridor like tidal bursts.

The beam-firing enemy screamed once after the wave hit him.

He was thrown back—off his feet, through his allies, through the barricade behind them. Dust filled the air, and several other prisoners shouted and ducked, trying to avoid being swept away by the echo of Chul’s momentum.

Seul surged through beside him, keeping their path open. Gravity bent downward and to the side, creating a tunnel of pull that knocked aside weapons and staggered enemies.

They pushed into the next corridor.

Then a trident came flying from the smoke.

Chul tilted his head barely in time. The weapon scraped past his cheek, cutting deep enough to draw blood. He hissed, turning toward the source.

The woman from before stood there, her hand outstretched. She whistled, and the trident curved in midair and returned to her grip like a boomerang. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

But now it was glowing brighter. Not just silver-blue—now it shimmered with aquamarine and deep violet undertones. Droplets of moisture hung in the air around her.

She didn’t shout. She didn’t pose.

She stabbed the weapon into the floor.

The ground beneath them rippled—like water had replaced the tile. Seul stepped back instinctively, but her footing slipped. Not from imbalance—something had changed in the gravity itself.

Chul planted his feet and grounded himself, but even he staggered slightly.

Then it hit.

From beneath them, water surged. Not real water, but a system-converted energy form—fluid in shape, heavy in presence. It erupted upward, swallowing the corridor in a rolling geyser of force.

Seul pushed her hands out, her power forming a bubble of anchored pressure. She locked them both in place, counteracting the tide.

"She’s using that trident to drown us out." Seul spat.

Chul’s face tightened. "Then let’s break it."

He dropped low, touching the floor with both palms. Energy channeled downward, then erupted forward. Not one concentrated blast—but a ripple. He didn’t try to match her element. He pushed with brute kinetic inversion.

The water shattered.

It split like a curtain, flaring outward and leaving her exposed.

Chul was already in motion, closing the gap.

But she was fast. Her stance shifted. The trident spun—three arcs, each traced with blue light. One struck forward, the other swirled around her, the last dropped low to sweep his legs.

Chul dodged two.

The third caught him.

Not clean—but enough to slice across his thigh. He hissed, but pushed forward anyway, his own fist slamming into the haft of her trident.

The moment of impact sent a shockwave through both weapons. Seul added to the chaos—gravity spiraling inward from above, forcing the woman to readjust her stance.

But she held.

Trident braced against the ground, she reversed it and slammed it upward. Seul braced, but the pressure wasn’t for her.

Water exploded around Chul, wrapping his legs and torso in a spinning vortex. He gritted his teeth and activated the band again. Energy flooded into his limbs, and he bent the force outward.

The vortex shattered.

He was free.

They reset—three meters apart, panting. Around them, the corridor was wrecked. Water still pooled at their feet, and cracks spiderwebbed across the walls.

Seul lifted her hand, gravitational points forming in the air around her.

"Still think you don’t need help?" she asked.

Chul smiled despite the gash on his leg. "I’m having fun."

Another group of prisoners approached, clearly emboldened by the trident-wielder’s presence. A man holding a scythe. A woman with glowing tattoos. Someone hovering a few inches off the ground.

Chul rotated his shoulder, blood dripping freely. "Your turn."

Seul stepped forward, power already pulsing at her feet.

They weren’t done yet.

Not even close.