The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 10: The Line Between Survival and Murder

The room was suffocating.

No one spoke. No one moved.

The system message still flickered in front of them, its blue glow casting sickly shadows across pale, hollow faces.

Jin could hear everything.

The uneven breathing. The sharp, panicked swallows. The quiet shifting of people pressing themselves further into corners, away from each other.

They were all waiting.

Waiting for someone to say something.

Waiting for someone to argue that this wasn't real.

Waiting for a way out.

But there wasn't one.

And then—the silence shattered.

"Kill?! Are they serious?!"

A woman near the back pushed herself away from the wall, her breath coming in sharp, erratic bursts. Her wide, bloodshot eyes darted to the screen again, as if expecting it to change, to take the words back.

But the message remained.

Cold. Unmoving.

A system that did not care if they were horrified or afraid.

"This—this isn't real."

A man—older, dressed in a wrinkled button-up stained with sweat—**shook his head violently.

"They can't make us do this!"

"What happens if we don't?!" someone else demanded.

No one had an answer.

They all knew.

The system had been clear.

Kill something... or face the consequences.

The panic spread like rot, sinking into their bones.

Someone—**a younger guy, maybe early twenties—**started pacing, his hands shaking. "There has to be another way."

His voice wavered. He didn't sound like he believed his own words.

A woman near the front wrapped her arms around herself, curling inward.

"We don't have to do this."

No one responded.

Because deep down, they knew.

This wasn't a choice.

Then—a man exhaled shakily, rubbing his hands together as if trying to ground himself.

His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

"It didn't say monsters."

The room froze.

Jin's fingers twitched slightly against the steel pipe.

The man kept going.

"...It just said 'kill something.' A monster. A person. Maybe even an animal."

His gaze flickered around the room.

"If we need to kill to survive... does it matter what we kill?"

Silence.

A silence thicker than before.

Jin could hear the shift in the air.

It was subtle—a footstep dragging back. A quiet swallow. The way people suddenly adjusted their posture, subtly distancing themselves from those around them.

Before, they had all been survivors. Coworkers. Strangers thrown into the same nightmare.

Now?

Now, they were potential targets.

A woman took a slow step back. "You're not actually saying—"

"Of course not!" The man's eyes widened, his voice sharp with frustration. "I'm just saying... it's an option."

An option.

That was enough.

Jin saw it immediately. The way people started looking at each other differently.

The way their shoulders tensed, fingers curled, bodies subtly angled toward exits and corners.

Someone breathed out a quiet, shaky laugh.

"We're losing our fucking minds."

Jin's jaw tightened. No.

They weren't losing their minds.

They were realizing reality.

And reality was merciless.

The room had turned hostile.

It wasn't loud—not yet.

But Jin could feel the shift. The way people stiffened, the way their gazes flickered toward each other, measuring, calculating.

The realization had hit them.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

It wasn't just monsters they had to fear.

It was each other.

Then—the first real argument broke out.

"We don't have to do this," a woman said sharply, hugging herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "We just need to wait. Maybe the system's just trying to scare us—"

"And if it's not?" someone shot back. "What if we actually have to kill? Are you willing to risk that?"

The woman hesitated, her lips pressing together.

A nervous breath. Then—"We don't even know what happens if we refuse. What if it's not even that bad?"

A bitter scoff.

"Oh, yeah?" A man near the front crossed his arms. "You wanna test that theory?"

Silence.

No one did.

The words settled heavily over them all.

Jin had heard enough.

He exhaled slowly, shifting his stance. "None of this matters if we don't make it through the night."

All eyes turned to him.

He scanned the room—people pressed into corners, others clutching their arms, heads down, lost in thought.

Jin rolled his shoulders. His ribs still ached from earlier, but he ignored it.

"This place isn't safe."

The words cut through the murmuring voices.

Jin gestured toward the barricaded door. "The monsters we've seen aren't smart. But what happens when something stronger finds us?"

Someone tensed.

"The stairwell already collapsed," Jin continued. "The structure is damaged. If something brings the whole floor down, where do we go?"

No one had an answer.

Jin wasn't trying to scare them. He was stating facts.

They were trapped here.

If the system didn't kill them, something else would.

"We need to move," Jin said simply. "Find somewhere better. Find supplies. And most importantly—"

He tapped the steel pipe against his boot.

"If we're forced to fight, we need to be ready."

A long silence.

Then—a sharp laugh.

"That's easy for you to say," a man scoffed. "You already killed one of those things."

Jin's grip on the pipe tightened.

"So what?"

The man shook his head. "You're different. You actually know how to fight. The rest of us—" his voice cracked slightly. "We'll die the second we step out that door."

Murmurs of agreement.

Jin could see it in their eyes.

They had already given up.

He exhaled through his nose. "I didn't know how to fight either."

That caught their attention.

Jin's voice was steady. "I was just as weak as the rest of you. The only difference is—I chose to fight anyway."

The man clenched his jaw, looking away.

Jin had made his decision.

"You can stay if you want."

The words came out firm, final.

"But I'm leaving."

At first, no one reacted.

Then—the realization hit.

Jin was leaving.

And he wasn't leaving alone.

Echo stood up, his glitching breath steady.

Seul-ki pushed herself to her feet.

Joon-seok swallowed hard but followed.

The strongest were leaving.

Jin saw the expressions change.

Fear.

Panic.

Desperation.

The people staying behind—they weren't stupid. They knew what this meant.

Jin wasn't just someone who had survived. He had fought. He had killed.

And now, he was walking out that door.

That was the moment the begging started.

A man near the back—the one who had been pacing earlier, the one who kept insisting there had to be another way—took a shaky step forward.

"Wait," he said, voice cracking.

Jin didn't stop.

"Please," the man tried again, his voice rising. "You—you can't just leave us here."

Jin turned his head slightly. "Why not?"

The man flinched.

"Because—because we don't stand a chance!"

Jin didn't say anything.

Because he knew.

The people staying behind—they weren't prepared.

But he also knew they weren't going to survive just because someone else stayed to protect them.

He had seen it before.

People who froze up when danger came. People who hesitated at the worst possible moment.

They didn't need him.

They needed something stronger than fear.

And if they weren't willing to take that step themselves?

Then they were already dead.

Jin turned away.

A hand clamped around Jin's wrist.

It wasn't rough, wasn't aggressive, but it held.

Desperate.

"I won't let you leave."

The voice was shaky, full of something between fear and desperation.

Jin didn't turn immediately.

He felt it first. The way the fingers dug into his skin, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to say, Don't go.

Hard enough to say, If you leave, we die.

The rest of the room had gone still.

Everyone was watching.

Waiting to see what Jin would do.

Jin exhaled slowly. His muscles tensed, his grip on the steel pipe tightening.

His body was screaming at him.

Kill.

Not because he wanted to.

Because that's what this world was shaping him into.

That's what it was demanding.

And for the first time since this started, Jin felt something shift inside him.

A dark, cold feeling curling beneath his ribs.

Like a blade, barely unsheathed.

A single thought, sharp as a whisper in the back of his mind.

"If I kill him, I can walk out of here right now."

The moment the thought appeared—his body reacted.

Before Jin could pull it back—

The man froze.

His pupils shrank. His breathing hitched.

His body locked up, completely rigid.

Like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a wolf.

His fingers trembled around Jin's wrist. And then—he saw it.

The killing intent.

For a split second—just a breath of a moment—

Jin saw his own hands moving.

A flash of movement. The steel pipe swinging upward.

A sickening, wet crack. The man's skull caving inward.

Blood sprayed.

His body hit the floor.

The room was silent.

Then— Jin blinked.

The vision was gone.

The man was still standing in front of him. Alive.

But his face—his face said otherwise.

His breathing was erratic. His grip had loosened. His skin had gone pale, pupils still shrunk to pinpricks.

And his hand—it was shaking.

Like his body was still convinced it had just died.

Jin said nothing.

Slowly, deliberately—he pulled his wrist free.

The man didn't resist.

He just stood there, frozen, staring at Jin like he was looking at something inhuman.

Jin didn't correct him.

He turned away.

"Let's go."

No one stopped them.

Jin, Echo, Seul-ki, and Joon-seok stepped toward the door.

No one tried to argue anymore.

No one begged.

Not after that.

Jin reached the barricade and pushed one of the chairs aside.

The door creaked open.

The hallway beyond was quiet.

Dark.

Waiting.

Jin stepped forward, crossing the threshold.

The others followed.

And without another word, they left.