The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 193: One Night (Part Sixteen)

The flames writhed like serpents as Ma-Rok’s baton extended, shifting into a full-length staff wreathed in molten light. Heat rippled off it in waves, warping the very air between them, and the ground at her feet darkened, cracking beneath the strain of the inferno she carried. Her figure glowed—part woman, part living forge.

Seul’s eyes narrowed. Her fingers twitched, and the air between them warped violently. Gravity condensed in domes around her teammates, forming translucent shields against the rolling heat. Even so, the oppressive pressure bore down—Ma-Rok’s presence wasn’t just hot, it was dense, like a sun falling in place.

Chul didn’t wait for a signal. He surged forward, absorbing the rising thermal energy that pulsed through the floor. His body shimmered—heat siphoning into his limbs. When he struck, his fist exploded forward with a kinetic pulse charged by that very flame, a rippling distortion trailing behind.

But Ma-Rok was already moving. She didn’t step back—she pivoted forward, sliding past his punch with terrifying grace. Her staff met his shoulder mid-spin with a hiss of flesh meeting sun-hot metal. The hit didn’t just connect—it launched Chul down the corridor, his boots dragging two molten lines across the floor as he skidded and rebounded off a scorched wall.

Before she could press forward, steel sang. Hanseong appeared in the blink of an eye, katana drawn, slicing down in a blur of silver. Ma-Rok raised her staff and caught the blow mid-strike. Sparks hissed through the air as heat met steel, the scent of scorched iron thickening. Her eyes lit with fire, not rage—but something close to joy.

He slid back without missing a beat, blade at the ready.

She twirled the staff once, steam hissing off the floor with every movement. Her mouth curled into a grin.

From above her wrist, the sigil blazed.

🔻RECORD: PRISONER 002 – MA-ROK

Monikor: Cinder

Crime(s): Serial Arson, Armed Resistance, Mass Civilian Casualties

Sentence: Death Penalty + Solitary Confinement

System Skill: [Ashlock] – Weapon ignites molten aura, grows stronger with sustained heat presence.

The air screamed.

It wasn’t just heat anymore—it was pressure, sound, vibration. Everything collided into one roaring force as Ma-Rok surged forward again, dragging her molten staff behind her, sparks hissing like serpents through the open space.

Chul grunted and shot forward to meet her head-on. His skin shimmered now—heat swimming across his frame, stored from every burn, every scorch she had landed. The ground trembled beneath each of his steps, his body absorbing the very temperature of the battlefield like a living battery. He ducked under a sweep of her staff and slammed a right hook into her ribs, the force flaring like a cannon blast.

Ma-Rok hissed, twisting mid-air as she was knocked back. She landed on her feet in a half-skid, hair uncoiling from her braid. Smoke trailed behind her boots. Instead of grimacing—she laughed.

"You’re fun," she called out, spinning her staff in one hand. "Don’t tell me we’re already reaching the good part."

Seul responded with a gravitational spike beneath Ma-Rok’s feet, warping her stance mid-step. At the same time, Hanseong appeared above her—his blade slashing in a clean arc, misting sparks into the heated air.

Ma-Rok dropped low, staff held overhead to block—but she didn’t account for Chul using Seul’s gravitic manipulation as a launch point. From behind, he rocketed in, his leg glowing with compressed flame-energy.

The double-hit landed.

Ma-Rok went flying across the field, skipping once across the scorched ground before she crashed into a charred steel beam half-buried in rubble.

Her weapon clanged as it hit the floor, spinning once... and landing with a faint hiss beside her.

Seul exhaled sharply, drawing the smoke around her into a compressed gravity veil. "We need to finish this now."

Chul’s arms were glowing red-hot now, radiating every ounce of the fury she’d poured into him. "I’ve got enough juice stored to crater this whole wing."

Hanseong nodded once, stepping into position, blade humming with quiet power.

"Let’s end it."

Together, they moved—Seul flaring her gravity out wide to pull Ma-Rok off balance. Hanseong struck low, slashing to pin her down. Chul followed overhead, a downward fist wrapped in burning kinetic power, aimed to finish it.

They never reached her.

A single hand intercepted Chul’s punch mid-air.

The shockwave was instantaneous—his momentum reversed in a blink as he was launched backward, crashing through two broken columns. Seul’s gravity pulse twisted sideways and collapsed. Hanseong’s sword met nothing as a second hand swept upward, smacking his blade aside and sending him spiraling back across the dirt.

Ma-Rok, still on one knee, looked up slowly.

"Well," she muttered, voice a little breathless. "Took your sweet time."

The figure stood beside her now—taller, thinner, cloaked in a prison coat modified with strange patchwork. It hung just a little too loose at the shoulders. Their hair was short, jagged, uneven. Their face still half-shrouded, but the frame... was unmistakably feminine. She extended a gloved hand and helped Ma-Rok to her feet.

"Didn’t look like you needed help," the newcomer said, her voice calm but slippery. "But you know how I am. Always wanted a front-row seat."

Ma-Rok scoffed, brushing ash off her shoulder. "They’re tougher than they look."

"You’ve done splendid," the new woman replied, her tone sarcastically sweet. "But the boss lady’s calling. Time we get serious."

Chul pulled himself from the rubble, blood running down his cheek. His arms still burned with stored heat, but his expression was wary now.

Seul floated herself to a higher point on a broken ledge, eyes fixed on the newcomer. "Another one?"

Hanseong didn’t sheathe his blade. "This one’s not just another. Something’s... off."

The newcomer turned to face them fully now, brushing strands of hair from her cheek with deliberate flair.

Her smile widened.

"Don’t worry," she said softly. "We’ll make it quick."

🔻RECORD: PRISONER 006 – EUN-JA

Monikor: The Masked Man

Crime(s): Serial Murders (All Women)

Sentence: Death Penalty + Solitary + 24 Life Sentences

System Skill: [Curio Archive] – Absorbs unique skills and weapon properties from targets killed via personal execution. Accesses archived effects at will.

Ma-Rok picked up her staff with a grunt, the flames reigniting along the shaft like it had been waiting for her hand to return. The heat around her flared again, warping the air in ripples. Her molten aura felt like the very essence of fire itself—uncontained, unyielding. She turned her gaze toward the trio.

"You should’ve quit while you were ahead," she said, her voice thick with barely-contained excitement. "But now... now we get to play for real."

The new woman, Eun-Ja, gave her a sideways glance, almost an amused sigh, but her eyes never left the group of three. "Ma-Rok," she warned softly, stepping forward. "Not too much, alright? You’ll burn the whole place down."

Ma-Rok smirked, her molten staff glowing even brighter in response. "Don’t worry, I’m just warming up. You know I can handle it."

Eun-Ja raised her hands in mock surrender. "Just making sure you don’t roast the ones I’m interested in, that’s all. I’m not keen on having to deal with too many charred corpses."

Ma-Rok only laughed, low and dangerous. The fire in her staff seemed to flicker in agreement as she swung it from side to side, her muscles flexing with controlled power. Her movements were calculated, controlled, like a predator assessing its prey.

Chul, Seul, and Hanseong stood ready, every muscle tense as they faced the two formidable opponents. They had taken down countless threats, but this? This was different. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made it feel like the ground beneath them might give way at any second. They couldn’t afford to hold back any longer.

Seul’s gravity rippled around her feet, her mind calculating, shifting the weight of the battle as her eyes locked onto Ma-Rok. Her expression was cold, hard. "This ends now."

Hanseong’s blade gleamed in the dim light. He kept his stance low and ready, eyes flicking between Ma-Rok and Eun-Ja. "We’re not here to play games. We’ll do what needs to be done."

Chul cracked his knuckles, the heat radiating off him like a furnace. His fists clenched, the kinetic energy inside him coiling with raw power. "I don’t care who you two are, we’re ending this."

Ma-Rok’s lips curled into a smile, amused by their bravado. "Cute," she said. "But do you really think you can stop us? I don’t think you’ve seen what real firepower looks like."

Her staff flared, the heat surging again as she spun it in a tight arc, sending flames shooting out around her. The air around her warped and shimmered like the desert at high noon, as though the very atmosphere was bending to her will.

Eun-Ja gave a dry chuckle. "Enough, Ma-Rok. Let’s not burn the whole place down. Let’s see if they’re worth the effort."

Ma-Rok finally lowered her staff slightly, her eyes flickering toward her ally. "Fine. But after I’m done with them, you can have your fun." She gave a sharp nod, and then her eyes locked back onto Chul, Seul, and Hanseong. "Let’s see if you can survive the heat."