The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 51: Predators and Prey

The sun hung low, casting harsh shadows across the cracked asphalt as they walked in silence.

The hospital loomed in the distance — a jagged silhouette against the sky, its windows dark and lifeless.

Jin kept his eyes forward, staff resting against his shoulder, his grip tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Every step sent a dull ache through his body, the phantom pain of the fight lingering like an echo.

Seul walked beside him, wiping dried blood from her lip. Her movements were stiff, her arm trembling slightly from overexertion, but she didn't complain.

None of them did.

Joon trailed behind, his Magnetron Spheres floating lazily around him, electricity crackling softly in the quiet. He rolled his shoulder, grimacing at the soreness.

"I hope this place is worth it," he muttered, voice rough. "If they try to kill us after all this, I might actually lose my mind."

Seul snorted, rubbing at her wrist. "What if they're already dead?"

Jin didn't slow. "Then we find someone else."

The words hit heavy, blunt, and final.

Joon blew out a breath. "Man, we really can't catch a break, huh?"

"That plaza gave us food," Seul muttered, adjusting her gloves. "Weapons. Vending units. We don't need a break. We need people."

Jin nodded slightly, his voice low. "If it's just the four of us... we won't last."

Joon ran a hand through his hair, the static crackling against his fingers. "How many do you think we need?"

Jin exhaled slowly. "At least thirty."

Seul's brows lifted. "Thirty?"

Jin's jaw tensed. "At least."

Joon whistled, rubbing his neck. "Where the hell are we supposed to find thirty people? This place isn't exactly crawling with talent."

Seul flexed her fingers, watching the joints crack. "Then we make them stronger."

Joon gave her a sideways look. "We're not Ryu."

"We don't have to be," Jin muttered. "We just need people who are willing to learn."

Seul tilted her head, something sharp flickering in her gaze. "And if they aren't?"

Jin's voice turned cold. "Then we leave them."

Joon's spheres flickered, dimming slightly. He didn't argue.

They all knew the truth by now.

You couldn't save people who didn't want to fight.

Seul stretched her shoulder, her muscles aching. "So what's the plan? We knock?"

Jin adjusted his grip on the staff, eyes locked on the hospital.

"If they don't answer," he muttered. "...we break the door down."

The hospital loomed closer with every step.

The building stretched high, jagged and cold, with faded letters barely visible on the worn-out sign. A rusted emergency entrance gaped open like a wound, but the main doors were shut — metal shutters drawn tight across the entrance.

The parking lot was empty.

Too empty.

No signs of people. No signs of monsters.

Just silence.

Jin stepped up to the gate, the metal bars twisted and broken in places, but still locked shut.

A faint smear of blood streaked across one of the poles, long dried.

He gripped the gate, testing it. The metal groaned but didn't budge.

Seul wiped her hands on her pants, eyes scanning the building. "No guards. No lookouts."

"That's weird, right?" Joon muttered, his spheres floating lazily around him. "I mean... they're still alive in there, yeah?"

Jin glanced at the door. "They were alive two days ago."

Joon's fingers twitched, electricity sparking between them. "Okay, but... shouldn't someone be watching the entrance? What if another group shows up? What if something worse shows up?"

"Maybe they don't care," Seul muttered, rubbing her wrist. "Or maybe they're already dead."

Jin turned to her. "Do you feel anything?"

Seul narrowed her eyes, her gaze sweeping across the building. She flexed her fingers, her gloves shimmering faintly as she adjusted the gravity around her palms — feeling for anything, any trace of a shift or distortion.

But there was nothing.

Just stillness.

She dropped her hands. "No movement."

Joon squinted at the windows. "Maybe they're hiding?"

Jin let out a slow breath, stepping back from the gate. "Or maybe they're watching."

Seul wiped the sweat off her brow. "What do we do?"

Jin rolled his shoulders, the weight of the staff familiar in his hands.

"We try knocking."

Joon blinked. "Like... actually knocking?"

Jin nodded toward a rusted security panel beside the gate. The intercom button was caked in dirt, but still intact.

Seul raised a brow. "Do you really think that works?"

Jin didn't answer.

He just pressed the button.

A faint crackle echoed from the panel. Then silence.

Jin pressed it again.

Static.

He leaned in. "We're not enemies," he said, voice low but firm. "We're just looking to talk."

Nothing.

Seul crossed her arms. "Try saying 'please.'"

Jin pressed the button again, jaw tight.

"If you're alive," he said, "we want to help."

More static.

Joon scratched his head. "Okay, so either they're ignoring us... or they're all dead."

Jin stepped back, letting out a slow breath.

"One more try," he muttered.

He grabbed the gate, planted his feet — and pulled.

The metal creaked, bending slightly, but the lock didn't break.

Seul cracked her knuckles, stepping up beside him. "Together?"

Jin nodded.

Seul grabbed the bars, her gloves shimmering as she reversed the gravity in her hands, making the metal lighter.

Jin adjusted his grip.

"On three," he muttered.

"One."

They braced themselves.

"Two."

Joon backed up, rolling his shoulders. "I feel like this counts as breaking and entering."

Jin exhaled sharply.

"Three."

They yanked the gate.

Metal groaned.

Bolts snapped.

The lock fractured.

The gate flew open, slamming into the concrete with a deafening clang.

Jin straightened, breathing hard, his grip still tight on the bars.

Seul stretched her fingers, rolling her shoulders.

Joon whistled. "Alright, so... I guess we're going in?"

Jin adjusted his staff, stepping through the broken gate, eyes locked on the darkened hospital entrance.

"If they won't come out," he muttered, voice low and sharp.

"...we'll go in."

The hospital courtyard stretched out before them — clean, too clean. The building stood tall and silent, its windows intact, the doors gleaming like they'd been wiped down that morning.

No blood.

No signs of struggle.

Just pristine, unnatural stillness.

Jin walked slowly, the staff tapping against the cracked pavement, his eyes sharp despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs. The adrenaline from the plaza fight had worn off, leaving behind a dull ache in his bones, but he kept moving.

He had to.

They all did.

Seul rubbed her shoulder, flexing her fingers in her gloves. Her steps were light but cautious, her gaze flicking to every shadow like she expected something to lunge out.

"It's quiet," she muttered.

"Too quiet," Joon whispered, spinning one of his floating spheres like a lazy orbiting planet.

"Shouldn't someone be on lookout?"

Jin nodded subtly.

They weren't alone.

He didn't just feel it — he knew.

The weight of being watched pressed against his skin like static, prickling up the back of his neck.

Footsteps scuffed against concrete, the faintest shuffles of movement behind rusted cars and broken barricades. He counted the shifts in weight, the subtle sound of fabric scraping against metal.

They were being tracked.

Surrounded.

Jin kept walking, forcing his posture to stay loose, casual, like he hadn't noticed. "Eyes on us," he muttered, voice barely above a breath.

Seul adjusted her gloves. "How many?"

Jin's gaze stayed straight ahead, scanning the area without turning his head. "At least a dozen," he said quietly. "Spread out."

Joon arched a brow, his voice low and sharp. "They suck at hiding," he whispered, twirling one of his spheres. "Should we scare them off?"

Jin shook his head slightly. "No sudden moves," he muttered. "Maybe they're just scared."

Joon clicked his tongue, spinning the sphere faster. "Or maybe they wanna stab us."

Seul rubbed her face. "As long as they don't throw anything," she muttered, glancing at the cars lining the path. "I'm too tired to dodge."

They kept walking, pretending not to notice the figures lingering in the shadows.

The hospital doors loomed closer — tall, reflective, and locked tight.

Jin stepped up to the glass and knocked with his staff, the sharp sound echoing through the empty courtyard like a gunshot.

Nothing. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

He knocked again.

Still nothing.

Jin exhaled slowly, stepping back. "If they won't come out..." he muttered, rolling his shoulders.

Seul cracked her neck, stretching her arm across her chest. "We break in?"

Jin glanced at Joon. "Can you short the door?"

Joon grinned, rolling his shoulders like he'd been waiting to be asked. "Yeah, easy —"

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Jin turned slightly, pretending not to notice.

The whistle came again.

Then — a flash of movement.

Something shot out from behind a rusted car.

Jin caught it in his peripheral vision — a brick, spinning fast, aimed straight for his head.

Before he could react, one of Joon's spheres shot out like a bullet, intercepting the brick with a loud clang. The sphere hovered for a second, humming with residual energy, then dropped the brick with a dull thud.

Joon caught the sphere, blowing imaginary smoke off of it like he was in an old Western movie.

"Okay," he said, voice echoing across the courtyard.

"That's where I draw the line."

The air shifted.

The figures in the shadows moved closer.

And Jin finally turned toward the cars, his grip tightening around the staff, his voice low and sharp.

"...Come out," he called. "Or we drag you out."