The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 28: Blitz

Joon exhaled, rolling his shoulder as the charge faded from his hand. The arc blast he fired crackled through the air, leaving faint scorch marks on the pavement. His chest rose and fell steadily, but his eyes never left the guy in front of him.

Byung grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was built like a tank — broad shoulders, thick legs, and a stance like he was ready to bulldoze through a wall. Blood smeared across his cheek, but he didn't seem to care.

If anything, he looked excited.

"You hit harder than I thought," Byung said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "I figured you'd be easier to crush."

Joon scoffed, flexing his fingers. Sparks danced between them, crackling faintly. "Funny. I thought the same about you."

Byung tilted his head, grin stretching wider. "Cocky little shit, aren't you?"

Joon smirked. "Only when I'm winning."

Byung's eyes flicked toward the side. Just for a split second.

Joon didn't miss it.

He followed the glance — to Jin.

Still locked in his own fight, blood dripping from his broken katana as he clashed with that speed freak. Echo was somewhere else, dragging himself through his own battle, and Seul and Chul were caught in theirs.

Joon's jaw clenched.

Is he trying to make a move on Jin?

No chance.

Joon didn't hesitate. He raised his hand — and fired.

One arc blast.

Then another.The twin bolts of energy shot out like lightning, streaking across the battlefield.

Byung's body shifted — and he exploded forward.

Not dodging but charging forward.

Joon cursed, backpedaling as Byung rocketed toward him like a human missile. But he didn't come straight at Joon. Instead, he blasted sideways, barely dodging the first arc blast, letting the second scorch his shoulder as he tried to curve around it.

Joon's heart pounded.

"Oh, hell no."

He twisted his body, lifting his arm — and caught Byung's jaw with a wild, desperate shot.

His fist slammed into Byung's face.

The impact echoed across the street, rattling Joon's bones.

Byung stumbled back, his feet dragging against the ground.

Joon sucked in a sharp breath, sweat dripping down his temple. "Holy shit. It worked."

Then Byung straightened.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, spit blood onto the ground — and smiled.

"Okay," Byung muttered, rolling his neck. "Forget the other guy."

His eyes gleamed.

"You're dead."

Joon blinked. "…Shit."

Byung launched again.

Byung shot forward like a bullet.

Joon barely dodged.

He threw himself to the side, feet skidding against the pavement as Byung blasted past him, the sheer force of his momentum kicking up a gust of wind.

Too fast.

Joon's pulse hammered in his skull. He spun around, raising his hand, charging another arc blast — but Byung had already stopped, his feet grinding against the ground like brakes on a runaway train.

Byung grinned, his chest rising and falling, sweat slicking his skin. "You got lucky once," he sneered, wiping blood from his mouth. "You won't land that shit again."

Joon's fingers twitched. The energy in his hand fizzled out.

He's too quick.

It wasn't just speed. It was acceleration. A sudden, brutal burst of force that sent Byung flying in whatever direction he chose. No buildup. No telegraphing. Just pure, explosive movement.

And if Joon missed a single step — he was dead.

Byung didn't give him time to think.

He lunged again, blasting forward in a low, brutal tackle. Joon braced himself — but the hit never came.

Instead, Byung twisted mid-charge and slammed his shoulder into the ground, using the momentum to whip his leg around in a vicious, sweeping kick.

Joon barely ducked.

The kick whistled past his face, missing by inches.

Joon reacted on instinct. He slammed his palm into Byung's side — and fired an arc blast point-blank.

The electricity scorched through the air, crackling against Byung's skin — but Byung barely flinched.

He grabbed Joon's wrist.

Joon's heart stopped.

"Oh, you are so screwed," Byung muttered — and then he blasted forward while still holding Joon.

Joon's body lifted off the ground.

Oh, sh—

They slammed into a car.

Metal crunched. Glass shattered.

Joon's back hit the vehicle hard enough to dent the door. Pain exploded through his body, the wind knocked from his lungs.

He coughed, vision spinning, his chest aching like it had been caved in with a sledgehammer.

Byung stepped back, stretching his shoulder. "Not bad," he said. "Most people would've gone down already."

Joon groaned, peeling himself off the wrecked car. "Thanks," he wheezed. "That means a lot."

Byung chuckled. "You got jokes. I like that."

Then his eyes sharpened.

"Let's see how long you keep smiling."

Joon didn't answer.

His mind was racing too fast.

Joon swallowed.

He still didn't know how to use his power properly. His aim was sloppy. His blasts weren't consistent. But if he could just figure out how to predict Byung's movements…

Maybe he had a chance.

Byung took a step forward.

Joon clenched his jaw.

The next charge could kill him.

But if he timed this right — if he placed his shot perfectly —

He might only need one.

Byung rolled his shoulders, flexing his hands like he was about to sprint through a wall. His fingers twitched, and his body vibrated with restless energy, legs coiling like springs ready to snap.

Joon wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, chest heaving. His muscles ached. His ribs screamed. Every nerve in his body burned from the repeated impacts.

But he was still standing.

And as long as he was standing — he could still fight.

"Come on," Byung muttered, tilting his head. "Don't tell me that's all you got."

Joon spat blood onto the ground, wincing as he straightened up.

"Sorry," he rasped, lips curling into a lopsided grin. "I like to let dumbasses tire themselves out."

Byung snorted.

Then he vanished.

Joon barely dodged the tackle.

Byung shot past him like a cannonball, his boots grinding against the pavement as he skidded to a stop. Gravel sprayed out in jagged arcs as he turned, panting like a wild animal.

Then he charged again.

Joon fired an arc blast — too late.

Byung shot past him again, nearly clipping his shoulder.

Shit, he's just throwing himself at me.

It wasn't clean. It wasn't controlled. It was relentless.

Like he doesn't care about what happened if he missed.

Byung's body slammed into a streetlight, denting the metal on impact — but he barely reacted. He just peeled himself off the pole, spit out blood, and launched himself forward again without missing a beat.

He didn't slow down.

Didn't hesitate.

Didn't even think.

He just kept moving.

And that's the problem.

Joon barely ducked under the next charge, rolling across the asphalt to avoid the blow. He could feel the air ripple from how fast Byung shot past him — like a human missile with no steering system.

It wasn't precision. It was pure, reckless momentum.

Like a football player diving for a tackle and hoping it landed.

Joon's chest rose and fell sharply.

Byung slammed into a car door, the metal crumpling inward with a sickening crunch. He yanked himself free, glaring at Joon with unhinged rage.

"You're lucky I keep missing," he sneered, wiping blood from his chin.

Joon exhaled slowly.

Missing, huh?

His fingers twitched, sparks crackling around his hands.

He couldn't outspeed Byung.

Couldn't overpower him.

But maybe he didn't need to.

Maybe he just needed to let Byung crash.

Joon adjusted his stance.

And waited.

Byung bared his teeth.

"You're dead."

He charged.

Joon fired an arc blast — not at Byung, but at the ground in front of him.

The blast erupted, scorching the asphalt and sending debris flying into the air.

Byung didn't stop.

Didn't dodge.

He just plowed through it — but the blast knocked him slightly off course.

His shoulder slammed into a street sign instead of Joon's ribs, twisting his body mid-air. He stumbled, barely catching himself on the ground.

Byung blinked, stunned.

Joon smiled through bloody teeth.

"Guess you're not the only one who plays rough."

Byung peeled himself off the ground, spitting blood onto the pavement. A cut ran across his temple, but he barely seemed to notice. His chest heaved, muscles twitching with barely restrained aggression.

Joon, panting hard, wiped the sweat from his brow. His body screamed in protest. His arms burned. His ribs throbbed. Every nerve in his body wanted to give out — but his mind buzzed with adrenaline.

Because he'd finally figured it out.

He can't stop himself.

Byung wasn't just fast. He wasn't just strong.

He was reckless.

He'd throw himself forward at full speed — and whatever he hit, he hit.

But if he missed?

He couldn't course-correct.

He had to ride the momentum until he crashed.

Joon dragged in a sharp breath, straightening up.

He adjusted his grip, sparks flickering along his skin.

All he had to do now — was make Byung miss.

"You're grinning," Byung growled, wiping his mouth. "The hell's so funny?"

Joon cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders.

"I was just thinking," he muttered, rubbing his jaw. "You hit like a bitch."

He lifted his hand — and motioned Byung forward.

Byung's eyes narrowed.

"You got a death wish?"

"Nope," Joon said, sparks crackling louder around his palm. "Not like you can."

Byung snapped.

He launched forward, boots cracking against the pavement.

Joon didn't move.

Didn't flinch.

He just waited.

Closer.

Closer.

The moment Byung crossed a certain point — Joon fired an arc blast.

But not at Byung.

He shot it behind him.

The force of the blast rocketed Joon backward, sending him sliding across the asphalt just as Byung shot through the space he'd been standing in.

Byung couldn't stop.

Couldn't slow down.

He shot past Joon, barreling straight into a concrete wall.

The impact cracked the surface.

A cloud of dust and rubble exploded outward.

Joon groaned, dragging himself up. His hand throbbed from the blast recoil. His entire body ached.

But he was smiling.

Byung staggered out of the rubble, coughing and bleeding from a split lip. His eyes burned with wild fury.

"That all you got?" he rasped.

Joon grinned, wiping blood from his chin.

"Not even close."

He fired another arc blast — not to hit Byung, but to send himself flying again, creating more distance.

Byung charged.

Straight line. Full speed. No brakes.

Joon moved.

Not far. Just enough.

Byung slammed into a car.

Metal crunched. Glass shattered.

Joon exhaled sharply, adjusting his stance.

He could end this.

He just had to make sure the bastard hit something he couldn't walk away from.

Think.

The environment blurred around him — broken cars, twisted poles, streetlights, the remnants of collapsed buildings.

The streetlight.

His eyes locked onto it.

A jagged metal pole, half-bent but still standing tall.

Sharp. Deadly.

Joon's chest heaved as he adjusted his stance, waiting for Byung to tear himself out of the wreckage.

"Let's finish this," Joon muttered.

Byung staggered upright, chest rising and falling. His eyes were bloodshot. His knuckles white.

"You're a dead man," he seethed.

Joon smirked.

"Then come kill me."

Byung roared — and launched himself forward.

Joon braced himself.

Waited.

Timed it perfectly.

Then — he jumped out of the way.

Byung rocketed past him, body twisting as he tried to turn —

And slammed straight into the jagged metal pole.

The pole punctured through his shoulder, impaling him mid-air.

Blood splattered across the ground.

Byung screamed, body writhing as he struggled against the pole. Blood dripped down the metal, pooling onto the cracked pavement.

Joon dropped onto his knees, chest heaving. His fingers twitched, every muscle burning from overuse.

His arc blasts had wrecked his body.

But he was alive.

And Byung wasn't coming for a round two anytime soon.

Joon wiped the sweat from his face with a shaky hand, blinking against the sting in his eyes.

Then — he let out a sharp, breathless laugh.

"Man," he rasped, voice raw. "You really are stupid."

Byung lifted his head, teeth clenched in agony.

"You... bastard," he spat, voice thick with pain.

Joon dragged himself to his feet, wobbling slightly before steadying himself. He rolled his shoulder, wincing at the ache that shot through his arm.

He limped toward Byung, gaze dark but steady.

"Don't look at me like that," Joon muttered. "You were trying to kill me first, remember?"

Byung glared, chest heaving.

Joon stopped a few feet away, leaning against a crumbled piece of debris. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his sore wrist.

"You're fast, though," he admitted, tilting his head. "I'll give you that."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"But speed means shit if you can't control yourself."

Byung groaned, trying to tug himself off the pole.

Joon pushed off the debris and turned his back, limping away without sparing him another glance.

"You wanted a fight," Joon muttered, voice low.

"You got one."

He wiped more blood from his lip, muttering under his breath as he dragged himself back toward the others.