The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 189: One Night (Part Twelve)

The corridor behind them buckled from the force of Big Mama’s charge.

"She’s right behind us!" Jisoo shouted, leaping over a collapsed beam as Hanuel vaulted a broken table.

Joon didn’t answer. He skidded to a stop near a service hall intersection, eyes scanning the flickering emergency lights. "We won’t outrun her forever."

The wall behind them exploded.

Cleavers shot forward, one embedding itself into the tile inches from Joon’s head. The other carved through metal pipes, hissing steam into the hallway like smoke from a furnace.

Big Mama stepped through the wreckage with a grin stretched wide across her face. Her apron fluttered behind her like a war banner. Sparks danced on her cleavers, and her boots crushed glass underfoot like crumbs.

"Told you not to leave the kitchen," she growled.

Hanuel spun his staff and sank into the shadow stretching beneath their feet. His voice echoed as he emerged behind her.

"Joon," he called out. "Whatever the plan is, now would be a great time to share it."

Joon’s gaze narrowed.

He raised a hand—and a faint hum built in the air.

The orbs hovering over his shoulders began to spin. Faster. Faster still. The blue arcs of electricity circling him intensified, streaking up his arms, splitting down his fingers. A glowing ring formed under his feet.

"Get back," Joon said quietly.

Jisoo and Hanuel didn’t hesitate.

The hallway dimmed as the light around Joon intensified. His breath slowed, eyes locking on Big Mama.

She raised her weapons again. "You look like a short-circuit waiting to happen."

Joon stepped forward—and vanished.

A burst of light flashed, his figure reduced to a blur of electric blue. He ricocheted off the walls, moving faster than any of them could track. Even Big Mama’s instincts lagged behind—her cleaver swung a fraction too slow, slashing air as Joon spun past her shoulder.

He didn’t hit.

Not yet.

Overclock Drive - Level One.

The blue glow clung to him, dancing like fireflies as he built speed, each step making the metal floor hum under his weight.

She grunted, trying to track him—but his path was chaotic, unpredictable.

Then—

He struck.

His fist, crackling with lightning, slammed into her ribs. She stumbled backward, skidding across the floor. Sparks flew from the point of contact.

Before she could recover, Joon zipped to the opposite wall, pushed off, and hit again—this time from behind.

She snarled. "Cheap tricks—"

"You think so?" Joon muttered "Then I need to up the heat."

The blue light deepened to white-hot arcs.

Overclock Drive - Level Two.

His spheres split, spinning around him at impossible speed. Electricity lashed out in fractal bursts, peeling through the space between them.

This time, he didn’t dance around her.

He went through.

A flash of light blinded the hallway as his fists drove into her shoulder, then her thigh, then her side—precise, targeted impacts, each one shredding through her aura and defensive resistance.

She swung wildly, and this time her cleaver grazed his side.

Joon hissed—but didn’t stop.

He rotated in midair, kicked off a wall, and raised both fists high.

A crash of thunder exploded as he slammed them down onto her spine.

She fell to one knee, panting. Her gloves steamed. Her arms trembled.

But she didn’t fall.

"I’ll give you credit," she muttered, spitting blood onto the floor. "That hurts."

"You haven’t seen half of what I can do," Joon said quietly.

Big Mama’s aura surged. Fire flared across her back—steam rolled from her gloves and apron.

Then she lifted her head and roared.

A pulse of heat exploded from her skin, and Joon was thrown back.

She stood tall again.

"No more games."

She hurled both cleavers forward. They didn’t spin—they tore through the air like twin meteors, slicing clean through the corridor supports with a sound like ripping steel and splintering bone. The walls behind Hanuel and Jisoo burst apart as the weapons carved deep into the concrete.

Joon’s head jerked up at the sound, but his eyes locked immediately onto the cleavers—and the worst part wasn’t that she’d thrown them.

It was that they boomeranged.

Arcing around in wide, calculated spirals, the cleavers twisted back mid-air and shot toward her again, like they were tied to her blood.

"Down!" Hanuel yelled.

Jisoo’s whip snapped upward. It caught one of the cleavers mid-arc, clinking against the metal like it struck an ancient bell.

"Cerberus Grasp!"

Her chain didn’t just catch—it flared, splitting into three spectral limbs. They wrapped around the cleaver’s hilt, the curve of the blade, and its midsection. The strain pulled her arm taut, veins bulging along her shoulder.

"Not... this time," she hissed.

The momentum reversed. With a cry, she spun and redirected the blade, slamming it into the floor behind her like a javelin. The shockwave cracked the tiles around them.

Big Mama caught the second cleaver without flinching, its handle slapping into her palm like a loyal dog returning to its master.

"You little brat," she muttered, eyes narrowing at Jisoo.

"I’ve gotten better," Jisoo snapped, her whip coiling back behind her.

Behind them, the air hummed.

It wasn’t the rumble of the fight.

It was... charged.

Alive.

Hanuel’s eyes flicked toward Joon—and widened.

The lights overhead flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then dimmed.

Sparks crawled down the corridor in slow, beautiful arcs—crawling toward him like insects drawn to heat. The orbs over Joon’s shoulders stopped spinning and began pulsing instead, rotating in perfect sync like twin hearts about to arrest the world’s rhythm.

His breath was steady.

His skin glowed faint blue.

And when he opened his eyes, they weren’t his eyes anymore.

They were storm light.

"Overclock Drive," he whispered.

The floor cracked beneath his feet.

"Level Three – Raijin"

The power wasn’t elegant.

It wasn’t quiet.

It screamed.

Electricity exploded from his body, fractals of plasma arcing like shattered glass made of thunder. His boots left the floor. Static danced around his shoulders, crackling like the end of a powerline.

Even Hanuel stepped back, shadows rippling from his boots like they’d been forced to retreat.

Jisoo’s hand clenched the handle of her chain. Her teeth ground together.

"This..." she muttered. "This is way worse than before."

Joon didn’t move like a fighter anymore.

He moved like a storm.

He dashed forward. The hallway behind him cracked open from the shockwave of his departure.

Big Mama turned—but it was too late.

Joon’s fist, cloaked in blinding blue arcs, punched into her gut.

Not fast.

Final.

The impact wasn’t a strike. It was a collapse.

The entire wall behind her buckled as the force launched her through it like a bullet. Dust exploded. The sound echoed like a divine clap. Her body didn’t even have time to register pain before slamming into the next wall—and the next.

She skidded across tile, leaving a burnt trail in her wake.

And Joon wasn’t done.

He reappeared above her, feet crackling with lightning. His body twisted mid-air.

Then he slammed down.

The floor cratered.

Tile disintegrated.

Smoke and heat roared up in a burst of choking vapor.

"Wrath of Raijin," he whispered.

Big Mama twitched beneath him, convulsing. Her body seized as lightning crawled over her skin, burrowing deep, refusing to let go. Her scream didn’t come all at once—it was ragged, pulled from the lungs like it had to fight to be heard over the sound of every nerve in her body igniting.

Hanuel and Jisoo stood back, shielding their eyes from the blinding arcs.

The power was unnatural.

Even from yards away, the heat of the energy made their skin prickle. The static in the air was so heavy it left their mouths dry and their hearts racing.

And then, as suddenly as it began, the lightning stopped.

Smoke curled from Joon’s shoulders.

He stood over Big Mama’s scorched form, body swaying slightly. His breath was labored. One knee dipped.

Hanuel rushed forward and caught him.

"Hey! Hey, you good?"

"Fine," Joon muttered, but his lips were pale, and his skin was clammy. "Side effect. Just... gimme a second."

Jisoo knelt beside Big Mama. Her cleaver had melted at the base, fused with the floor. Her body trembled in small, involuntary jerks.

"She’s alive," Jisoo confirmed. "Barely."

"Paralysis," Joon said between breaths. "She won’t be moving for a long time."

Jisoo eased him onto a bench. "That’s one hell of a technique."

"Yeah" Joon said with a crooked grin, "I don’t use Raijin alot though, leaves me tapped out."

They were quiet for a moment, the echo of the battle finally settling into the ruined hallway.

Then Hanuel looked up.

"We need to go."

Jisoo nodded. "Yeah we got to take down a lot more people."

Joon stood again, shakier now, but still moving.

They turned toward a side corridor, half-buried in rubble.

Jisoo turned one last time toward Big Mama—scorched, unconscious, cleavers still fused into the earth.

"Rest well, Sixth Cell," she muttered. "You made your mess."

They vanished into the dark.

The corridor ahead was quiet—too quiet. Dust filtered through beams of emergency light, and the silence pressed heavy on their shoulders. But the moment didn’t last.

Footsteps echoed. Metal scraped.

A new group of prisoners turned the corner—half a dozen at least, decked out in stolen gear, brass knuckles, reinforced gloves, some of them still panting from the chaos in the cafeteria.

One of them pointed. "That’s them! The ones who—!"

He didn’t finish.

Hanuel stepped forward, spinning his staff once, shadows dancing at his feet.

Jisoo cracked her neck, whip coiling up her arm like a serpent. "So... round two?"

Joon gave a lopsided grin, sparks still humming along his forearms. "I’m barely standing."

He rolled one shoulder.

"But for trash like this?" His smile widened. "Plenty left in the tank."

Without another word, the three of them surged forward, shadows, lightning, and chainlight cutting through the dark—prisoners scattering, the path ahead lit only by their fury and fire.

The mission wasn’t over.

Not until this place burned.