The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 195: Mercy

The moment Jin reached the final hallway before the Warden’s door, she dropped down in front of him like a guillotine.

No words. No warning.

Just a woman—tall, thick with muscle, barefoot, her knuckles bloodied like she’d torn through dozens to get here.

Her hair was tied in a rough knot, sweat dripping down her brow. The jumpsuit around her waist was torn at the seams, showing a tank top soaked through, and her fists were clenched like they had never been unclenched.

Jin slowed.

He could feel it.

The tension in the air.

She didn’t come to talk.

She took one step forward, her bare heel cracking the tiles beneath.

Jin’s fingers curled around the hilt of his sword—Muramasa humming faintly with heat.

"You’re in my way."

The woman didn’t speak.

She charged.

Her foot slammed down—an instant afterimage—and she was already mid-air, knee cocked back.

Jin’s body moved.

He dove sideways as the blow came down—shattering the floor like a crater.

Debris exploded around them.

Jin rolled, sprung to his feet, and Muramasa slid free from its sheath in a single breath.

She was on him again.

No wasted motion. No flair.

A jab. A hook. A knee that grazed his ribs with so much force it sent him airborne even though she missed.

Jin twisted mid-air and came down into a crouch, blade slashing a defensive arc in front of him. The air shimmered with the aftershock of her last strike.

"She’s faster than she looks," he muttered.

The woman cracked her neck and smiled—just slightly.

Then she came again.

Fists, elbows, a spinning backhand that nearly split a wall behind him in two. Jin parried, stepped, adjusted his angle, trying not to commit too hard.

Muramasa clashed against her forearm, sparks dancing along steel and skin.

She didn’t even flinch.

"Steel-hard bone?" he muttered.

No—he could feel it.

Her body wasn’t normal.

It was hardened.

Dense.

Her System Skill had nothing flashy—just raw, terrifying reinforcement.

Her every strike held weight like falling buildings.

He deflected a low kick and kicked off a wall behind him, soaring forward. Muramasa gleamed with a faint violet hue, slicing diagonally toward her torso.

She caught it.

Barehanded.

Her palm smoked as the blade touched skin—but she didn’t let go.

Her other fist came around.

Jin ducked just in time and drove his heel into her shin.

She grunted.

He pulled Muramasa back and sliced across her thigh—deep enough to stagger her.

Still no scream.

She just growled—and slammed both fists down toward him like hammers.

Jin vanished in a blur of motion.

Muramasa left an arc of red heat as he twisted mid-air, landing behind her.

His breath came fast now. "This isn’t working."

She turned with an expressionless stare.

He’d fought many. Even killed.

But this one didn’t feel alive.

She felt like a gate.

An immovable one.

Jin’s eyes narrowed.

He slid Muramasa back into its sheath.

Closed his stance.

Let the breath come slower.

Inhaled.

And then exhaled.

His aura flared.

A low, distorted hum rang from the blade—red now with that violent sheen.

Muramasa: Second Pulse.

His stance shifted—lower, blade arm held behind him like a draw waiting to explode.

The woman cocked her head, almost intrigued.

Then they moved at the same time.

Jin unsheathed.

A sonic boom cracked through the hallway as his sword screamed through the air like a flash of red lightning.

She threw a punch.

They met mid-motion.

Steel and knuckle collided.

The force of it shattered everything nearby.

Jin flew back.

But so did she.

This time, she bled.

A slice across her midsection.

Still—not enough.

She hit the wall behind her, cracking stone, then roared and barreled toward him like a freight train.

Jin crashed against the railing at the edge of the corridor, ribs screaming.

His legs buckled—but he stayed standing.

Blood trickled from his lip.

"You’re done," he whispered.

She didn’t answer.

She rushed again.

And this time—he didn’t dodge.

He stepped in.

Steel flashed.

Her arms lifted.

Muramasa cut once.

Then again.

Two precise slashes—elbow, shoulder.

She screamed, staggered—and Jin pivoted, driving the blade into her gut, clean through.

The air hissed.

Her momentum halted.

The fire in her body seemed to freeze.

And then—she crumpled.

Jin stood there, chest heaving, blood sliding down the blade.

She hit the ground, breath rattling.

No more growls.

Only a weak whimper.

Her head rolled slightly toward him, mouth open, murmuring nonsense.

Like she didn’t even understand what had happened.

Jin stared.

His body trembled—not from fear.

From restraint.

From what it took to bring her down.

Muramasa buzzed in his hand, the red glow dimming slowly.

"I’m sorry," he whispered.

She didn’t respond.

Her body stilled.

Jin exhaled.

He turned, facing the Warden’s door.

It was right there.

Just a few steps away.

But then—

A voice.

Soft.

Familiar.

Warm.

Too warm.

"You did well."

Jin froze.

A shadow shifted behind him.

The fallen woman didn’t flinch—didn’t react.

But someone else did.

Someone who bent beside her, brushing blood from her cheek.

"You served well," the voice whispered.

Jin turned slowly.

No.

It couldn’t be.

Not here.

Not her.

But then—he saw her.

Walking forward.

Not a dream.

Not a ghost.

Not a memory.

She smiled sweetly at him.

Like the world hadn’t burned.

Like she hadn’t been left behind.

"Long time no see, Jin-Jin."

His heart stopped.

"...You should be dead," he said quietly.

Her eyes glinted.

"Funny. I could say the same."

The corpse behind her twitched.

Then—

BOOM.

The head exploded.

System skill. Her trademark kill.

And she hadn’t even raised her hand.

Jin stepped back.

The woman he’d killed was gone.

But something worse had arrived.

She took another step forward—heels tapping softly against the broken tile, as though none of it fazed her.

"Been a while," she said again, her tone almost playful now. "How’ve you been?"

Jin didn’t lower the sword.

His voice came low, measured. "How did you get here?"

The smile on her face twitched.

"Same way you did," she said.

"How did you even recover enough to get this far?"

"Some of your coworkers, apparently." She tilted her head. "One of them was a healer—pretty little thing. She saw me fighting you and your crew when everything first broke out. Thought I’d be ’useful.’"

Jin’s eyes narrowed.

"...Where is she?"

She shrugged.

"I hurt her, not on purpose, she touched my arm, tried to say something, and I—"

She mimed a casual punch with her knuckles.

"Well. She dropped."

Jin didn’t respond.

"Never saw her again," she added, with no real remorse. "But the others stuck with me. They didn’t seem to care as long as I pulled my weight."

"And you followed them back to the prison," Jin said quietly.

Her smile grew bitter. "Isn’t that poetic?"

The hallway flickered with overhead sparks. Emergency lighting cracked above them.

Jin tightened his grip.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said.

"Neither should you." Her eyes were sharp now—bright, full of something heavier than anger. "But here we are."

He stepped forward once, lowering the sword slightly. "You were arrested for murder."

She snapped her eyes to him.

"That wasn’t murder." Her voice cracked on the edge of fury. "That was self-defense."

Jin’s jaw tightened.

She kept talking.

"My dad broke my ribs—twice. My mom locked me in the basement for days. My little brother..." Her eyes flickered. "He tried to kill the cat. For fun."

"You killed them."

Her voice raised. "Because no one else would! Because no one believed me!"

Her fists clenched. Her shoulders shook.

"And I get it. You think I’m crazy. I know how I sound. But don’t you dare stand there and act like you’re better."

She pointed to the still-warm corpse behind them—the woman Jin had just brought down in blood and steel.

"You just crushed that woman’s arms. You stabbed her through the gut. You killed her."

Jin opened his mouth.

But stopped.

She stepped closer.

"And what? You get to say it was survival? You get to say it was justified?"

He exhaled slowly.

"...Maybe it was," he admitted.

"And maybe mine was too," she said.

They stood in silence. Just the two of them, surrounded by wreckage, blood, and ghosts of their own pasts.

Jin lowered the blade.

For the first time since she appeared—he let his stance break.

"...Are you going to stop me?" he asked.

She looked at him.

Her lips trembled.

"No," she whispered. "Because I can’t win. Not anymore."

Her voice cracked again, this time with something soft and broken underneath.

"I just wanted to find somewhere to belong."

Jin stayed silent.

She took a shaky breath.

"I followed them, I helped them, I even killed for them. And now... I’m back here. Again. In this place. Where it started. And it’s because of you."

Her eyes welled up.

Tears fell. Not the messy kind. Just quiet, exhausted weeping.

"I’m going to have to find a whole new home," she said. "Because of you."

Her legs gave out beneath her. She dropped to her knees.

Her hair spilled down over her shoulders as she bowed forward, her fingers pressed into the bloodied floor.

For a long time—Jin didn’t move.

Then he walked forward.

Step by step.

She didn’t flinch as his shadow fell over her.

He knelt beside her, resting one knee on the cracked tile.

His voice was low. Soft.

"I always regretted leaving you behind."

She looked up slowly.

Red-rimmed eyes. Wet cheeks. Lips trembling.

"I thought... you’d be better off," Jin continued. "But I was wrong."

She blinked.

He met her gaze.

"You can stay with us," he said. "You don’t have to run anymore."

Her expression didn’t change.

Not at first.

Then—

Something flickered behind her eyes.

Emotion twisted.

Tears kept falling.

But a smile bloomed again.

The old one.

Too soft.

Too sweet.

Laced with something dangerous.

"...Really?" she whispered.

Jin nodded.

A beat of silence.

Then—

Her fist slammed into his gut.