The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill

Jin woke to the smell of something cooking.

For a few seconds, that was the only thing he could register—something warm and savory in the air, the faint crackle of a stove or pan somewhere nearby. The world around him was soft, muted. The morning light filtered through cracked blinds in gentle stripes across the floor, catching dust motes in the air.

He blinked slowly, pushing himself upright.

He was in one of the classrooms. In a makeshift bunk space the recruits had been using. Someone had laid a folded blanket under his head and pulled a spare coat over his shoulders.

He stared at it for a second, then let out a quiet breath.

"Seul," he murmured.

She must’ve carried him inside last night after he’d dozed off in the courtyard. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on his feet, but apparently, exhaustion didn’t need permission anymore.

He ran a hand through his hair and stretched. His muscles protested, but not violently. The kind of ache that promised he’d survived something heavy, not that he was still in the middle of it.

The smell of food was stronger now. Eggs, maybe. Something with rice. Maybe even broth. It tugged at him harder than he expected.

He rose, rubbed the last bit of sleep from his eyes, and followed the scent down the hall.

Jin stepped into the cafeteria, and for a moment, all fifteen heads turned toward him.

Most looked up from their plates, some mid-bite, others halfway through a quiet conversation. No one said anything right away. Then, like a wave pulling back, they went back to what they were doing. Talking. Eating. Processing the day.

He walked across the room toward the center table. Seul, Joon, and Echo were already there. A plate was waiting for him, neatly placed with a set of utensils beside it. No one said it out loud, but it was clear who had set it down.

Jin slid into the seat without a word and started eating. The food was warm and simple, which made it perfect. After a few bites, he exhaled and leaned back slightly.

Echo glanced over at him. "Morning."

Jin nodded. "Good morning."

Joon snorted. "Sup "

Seul didn’t say anything, just passed him a cup of water. He took it with a grateful nod and drank deep.

Around the room, the buzz of conversation was quieter than usual, more focused. Maybe it was the tension of the system clock ticking toward the end of the current cycle. Maybe it was the lingering weight of what had happened the night before last.

He set his cup down, sat up straighter, and looked toward the group of recruits at the other tables.

"I wanted to say something," Jin said, voice steady.

The quiet around the cafeteria sharpened a bit, conversation dipping again as more of them turned to listen.

"The night before last, something hit our city. Something big. It wasn’t part of the territory trial exactly. It was just... random. The system called it a joint base-defense event. One of those surprise quest, I guess."

He paused.

"I know some of you didn’t see it firsthand."

He glanced toward the end of the table where Hanuel and Areum were seated. They met his eyes but didn’t react beyond a short nod from Hanuel. They’d been there. They didn’t need a recap.

"But I still want everyone to understand what happened. And what it meant."

Before he could say more, Doyun raised a hand slightly. "We got the details yesterday," he said. "Seul made sure we all knew."

Jin blinked. "Right."

Areum leaned back in her chair. "We were all pretty much filled in by the time the sun went down."

Jin gave a quiet chuckle. "Well, guess that saves me some breath."

"You were out cold," Joon said. "Like, didn’t-move-for-hours cold."

"Yeah," Echo added with a smirk, "Seul dragged you inside. Laid you out like a sandbag."

Jin nodded slowly. "Didn’t mean to vanish on everyone. I was... tired."

"You earned it," Seul said, without looking up from her food.

Jin didn’t argue. He just gave a small shrug and turned back toward the recruits.

"Well," he said, "I still wanted to say something now. In a few hours, this current week-long quest ends. The territory clock’s been ticking down. Once it hits zero, we’ll get access to whatever the system’s holding back and get new upgrade options, base expansions, and maybe defense bonuses."

"But more than that," Jin continued, "I hope it gives you all a chance to grow. The last few days proved we can’t guess what’s coming next. The system doesn’t wait for us to be ready."

He wasn’t grandstanding. He kept it short, matter-of-fact.

"Some of you stepped up when it counted. Hanuel. Areum. Doyun. You know what you did."

There were no nods or acknowledgments. No one stood up. And that was fine. None of them had done it for recognition.

Jin kept going. "We survived something that came out of nowhere. No warning. And we didn’t crack."

He rested his hands on the table.

"Today marks three weeks since the system dropped into our world. Three weeks since everything changed. And we’re still standing."

That part, at least, got a few looks. Small ones. Thoughtful ones.

"If we’ve made it this far," Jin said, "we can go farther. We’re not the strongest group out there. We’re not the most skilled. But we know how to stand back up. That’s what matters."

He didn’t expect applause. And he didn’t get any. Just a few recruits looking down at their food, maybe thinking a little harder than before.

He let it sit a moment longer, then eased back into his chair again.

"Alright," he said. "That’s it."

Echo leaned forward, setting his disk on the table and spinning it with one finger. "So," he said, "you gonna plant it?"

Jin turned his eyes toward him.

"The seed," Echo added. "You ready?"

Jin glanced toward the windows. Sunlight was shining through now, clean and bright. The sky was mostly clear. Warm light slid across the floor and touched the edge of the table.

"Yeah," Jin said. "It’s sunny now. Seems like the perfect time."

Joon tilted his head. "You sure that’s a good idea? We still don’t know what it’s gonna do."

"Not planting it would be worse," Jin said. "We’ve been given something that could help. Can’t just let it sit in the inventory and gather dust."

Echo nodded. "Good. I was getting tired of waiting."

Seul finished her last bite of food, stood, and started clearing the tray without a word. The others at the table followed suit. Around the cafeteria, more of the recruits began to do the same, returning their trays or folding their napkins. No orders. No prompt. Just motion.

Jin stayed sitting for a second longer, watching the light outside shift ever so slightly across the floor.

Then he stood.

The system timer was ticking down.

And they were finally ready to plant something that might grow.

Jin stepped out into the courtyard, the sunlight warm on his shoulders.

The others trailed behind—Seul, Echo, Joon, and a few of the recruits. They didn’t speak, but their presence was steady. No fanfare, no announcement. Just quiet steps over worn concrete.

The yard was still rough. Cracked stone, splintered wood, the skeletal remains of what had once been benches and bike racks. A few trees stood off to one side, thin and mostly leafless, survivors of whatever the city had endured before the system came down.

Jin walked to the center of the yard and stopped.

This was the spot.

He opened his inventory and pulled out the seed.

It pulsed softly, steady, warm, and slow. Like a breath taken by something ancient. It wasn’t loud or glowing or dramatic, but it felt alive in a way that made his skin prickle.

He pressed it into the soil.

A familiar system chime echoed through his vision.

[System Notice: The First Seed Detected]

This seed will transform the area around it. Are you sure you wish to plant it here?

Warning: Transformation is permanent and may alter local terrain. This territory will adapt accordingly.

He didn’t hesitate.

"Confirm," Jin said quietly.

The seed disappeared beneath the surface.

For a heartbeat, nothing changed.

Then the ground beneath him trembled. Not violently—just a deep, resonating hum, like the earth itself had stirred in its sleep.

Jin stepped back as a faint green glow began to radiate from the soil. Thin strands of light wove upward in a slow spiral, curling into the air like rising steam. The scent of fresh grass and rain filled the space, soft and sudden.

Then something cracked.

The soil split open—not with violence, but with purpose. A single shoot pushed through. Pale green. Glowing. It grew slowly at first, no more than a hand’s height, but the energy it carried made the air shift.

A sapling.

Not tall. Not mighty.

But unmistakably powerful.

As it emerged, the wind shifted. A breeze passed through the yard, brushing against the other trees lining the edges of the courtyard. One by one, their bark shimmered faintly, and then each began to glow—faint, ethereal green, like moonlight reflecting off deep water.

Leaves unfurled on branches that had long since withered. Vines curled upward toward the sun. The cracked concrete beneath their feet didn’t heal, but the air itself felt... different.

Alive.

The whole yard changed, not in structure, but in spirit.

Jin blinked slowly. His heartbeat had slowed without him realizing it. His limbs felt lighter. The ache that had followed him since waking faded into a distant hum, replaced by a quiet clarity. He wasn’t just relaxed—he was focused. Centered.

Like the tree’s presence had reached into something deeper and whispered, breathe.

Behind him, Echo let out a low whistle. "Okay. That’s not normal."

Joon took a step forward. "Is it... supposed to feel like this?"

Seul didn’t speak. She stood still, arms crossed, watching the sapling with unreadable eyes.

Then the system pinged again.

[Territory Update: Lifebound Origin Sapling Planted]

Specialized Quest Unlocked

Another screen unfolded in front of Jin, this one bearing a golden border.

[Specialized Quest: "Forest Guardian"]

Type: Territory Leadership Exclusive

Duration: 14 Days (Real Time)

Description:

You have planted the first seed, descendant of the First Tree, from which life and ruin once both sprang. Its growth will stabilize the territory and unlock forgotten power... but not without cost.

For the next two weeks, the sapling will attract interest. From scavengers. From beasts. From corrupted things that remember the First Forest and hunger for its return.

Objective:

Defend the sapling from direct attacks

Prevent territory corruption from exceeding 15%

Maintain a minimum support staff presence near the tree

Failure will result in irreversible damage to the Lifebound Sapling and severe downgrade of territory status.

Reward (on Success):

???

???

???

The text faded, but the glow from the sapling lingered. freewёbnoνel.com

Jin stared for a long moment, then exhaled. "Of course."

Another quest. Another timer. Another two weeks of being one step away from losing everything.

Echo stepped up beside him. "So," he said, voice low, "we just got ourselves a magical forest heart... and a giant target on our backs."

Jin nodded slowly. "Pretty much."

Joon gave a short laugh. "Guess we should start building fences."

Seul didn’t say anything. She stepped up beside the sapling, knelt briefly, and placed one hand near its base—not touching, just resting near the glow.

It pulsed again.

Jin checked the main system clock. The current cycle—the territory evaluation—was still counting down.

02:47:29

He looked at the timer. Then at the sapling. Then up at the trees glowing gently all around him.

The fight wasn’t over.

But for the first time in days, something had been planted instead of torn down.

He exhaled, long and low.

"Two weeks," he murmured. "Alright then. Let’s see what you’ve got."

And the clock kept ticking.