The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill
Chapter 130: The Iron Womb

The Bulgasari towered in front of them, iron-clad and groaning beneath its own weight. Its body was a grotesque mosaic of swords, shattered shields, and dented helms, welded into a shape that barely resembled a beast. Every step it took dragged metal against metal, a grinding echo that clawed at the ears.

Jin stood ahead of the group, katana already drawn, black steel gleaming with fractured lines of faint light. The blade didn't hum. It breathed.

"Doyun, right side. Sujin, keep the alleyways closed. Yujin, take the rooftops. Mina, on my mark."

The four behind him peeled off without question.

The young Bulgasari—smaller, hunched forms still coated in rust-flecked fur—burst from the wreckage around the main one. Their limbs twitched unnaturally, eyes glowing, jaws full of iron shards as they scampered and leapt forward.

"Go," Jin said.

Yujin shifted mid-sprint—her frame lengthening, pupils narrowing, claws erupting from her fingertips. She launched off a bent car, slashing through the throat of one pup and landing in a slide that took her under another.

Sujin struck her palms to the ground. Vines erupted along the side of the street, curling into a spiked barrier that snapped shut behind Yujin just as two more younglings charged.

"They're fun," Yujin called, kicking one hard into a rusted streetlight. "Fast, too."

"Don't let them eat," Doyun barked, already moving. One of the pups gnawed at a pipe—he spat, the stream of acid catching it across the face. It screamed, steam pouring from its eye socket.

"Confirmed," Mina said, stepping in. She pressed her palm to the side of a parked van. Heat rushed into the metal until it turned red, then white. When a pup leapt onto it, the surface collapsed beneath it with a hiss, its claws sinking into molten metal.

Jin moved past them all without looking back.

The true Bulgasari stood in the center of the intersection, watching. Waiting. It didn't charge. It didn't roar. Its breath came through vents between its plated jaws, sounding more like a forge than lungs.

Jin's stance shifted.

He closed the distance in a blur.

The katana moved with no flourish. Jin stepped right, slashed upward—a clean arc aimed at the beast's knee.

Sparks flew. The edge bit into steel but didn't cut through. The Bulgasari staggered but didn't fall. It retaliated immediately, swinging an arm made entirely of fused greatswords.

Jin stepped into the blow and redirected it with a sharp deflection—his blade drawing sparks as it kissed each metal edge in passing. He pivoted low and slashed again, this time at the midsection.

A glancing blow. The plating shifted but didn't give.

It was adapting.

Another flurry of motion behind—two pups tried to flank Jin's rear, but Mina burned one back and Sujin's vines skewered the other before it could reach.

"You good up there?" Doyun shouted.

"Clean!" Yujin called back. She dropped onto another pup, claws first, tearing into its spine.

Jin didn't speak.

The Bulgasari leaned back and let out a metallic snarl, its body vibrating. The swords along its back rose like quills. Then, in one violent motion, it slammed both fists down.

The ground buckled.

Jin leapt, flipped over the shockwave, and landed in a crouch, sliding forward.

The katana's edge glinted.

The moment he rose again, he was already moving. No hesitation. No warning.

Sacred Form Six.

"Yomi-no-Kuzure."

His blade moved in a single horizontal sweep.

No shout. No roar of power.

The cut passed clean.

He stepped through.

Behind him, the Bulgasari halted mid-motion.

Its plated body twitched.

Then split.

The cut had gone through shoulder to hip, severing core, spine, and every fused scrap of armor with silent precision. The two halves slid apart, then collapsed with a metallic crash.

[System Notice: Bulgasari - Neutralized]

Territory Integrity +0.5%

Combat Rank Evaluation: S

Jin exhaled.

The blade whispered as he returned it to its sheath.

The others regrouped around him. Yujin flicked blood from her claws, already half-shifting back to normal. Doyun pulled the hood of his jacket tighter, a splash of his own acid drying on his sleeve.

"That was sacred form six?" Mina asked, not with awe—just interest.

Jin gave a nod. "Yomi-no-Kuzure."

Sujin pulled her hair back into a tie, wiping blood from her cheek. "Every time I think you've shown us the limit…"

"There's still more," Jin said simply. "Let's head back."

The others followed without a word.

The wind stirred faintly as they began moving through the broken streets, the scent of rust and scorched concrete trailing behind them. The city was half-swallowed in ruin now—hollow buildings with glassless windows, rusted cars buried beneath growth, and the ever-present signs of battles past. Some roads were no longer roads, just suggestion—fractured slabs where roots had pushed through and made their claim.

Yujin walked a pace ahead of the others, her sharp eyes scanning rooftops out of habit. Her claws had already retracted, but there was still a slight tension in her shoulders—residual adrenaline.

Behind her, Mina kept her hands in her jacket pockets, flames long gone, but her breath still faintly warm in the cool air. "Can't believe this was downtown," she muttered. "Feels like a different world."

"It is," Sujin replied quietly. Her steps were light, deliberate. "We just haven't caught up yet."

Doyun kicked a loose chunk of gravel into the gutter. "Feels more like the world's trying to eat itself."

They walked another block in silence.

Then, ahead, the terrain shifted.

The crumbling skyline gave way to something else entirely.

The forest had grown.

It was more than overgrowth. Massive roots split cracked sidewalks like veins. Thick vines coiled around streetlamps and rose up old apartment walls. Moss covered the shattered remnants of fences, creeping up signs that no longer pointed anywhere. The air was different here—warmer, heavier, filled with the scent of earth and something sharp, almost sweet.

And just beyond the treeline, tucked within the dense green, lay their base.

"You'd think I'd be used to it by now," Mina said, slowing slightly. "Living in a forest that wasn't here a month ago."

"It's not even the forest part," Doyun said. "It's how it watches."

Yujin gave a half-smirk. "You saying the trees are alive?"

"They are," Sujin murmured. "You just haven't been listening."

They stepped past the boundary.

Immediately, the forest responded.

Vines retracted from the path, clearing their way like doors being held open. The ground underfoot softened, moss layering over broken cement with quiet grace. Light filtered down in rippling patterns, not quite sunlight but something gentler.

And with it came the shift.

The ache in Jin's shoulders eased.

Doyun rolled his neck, then flexed his arm. "There it is. Cuts are gone."

"I had a sprain this morning," Mina said. "Gone now too."

Sujin ran her fingers along a vine that twisted down from a wall, and it responded—curling slightly toward her before settling back.

They continued forward. No one gave directions. The path was familiar now. The forest adjusted for them—subtle bends in the trail, slight partings in the canopy, soft pulses in the ground that guided rather than instructed.

Jin didn't speak as they walked.

But his eyes never left the deeper layers of the forest—beyond the school, beyond the root-covered perimeter.

The forest grew deeper every day. He wasn't sure it had a limit.

They emerged into the clearing at the heart of their base.

The school was still there—mostly. Its structure was partially wrapped in bark and root now, like the forest had decided to preserve it by fusing with it. One wall had been entirely replaced by a living weave of branches, hardened smooth and dark like bone.

The courtyard in front of it had been cleaned, leveled. Makeshift training fields stretched across it now.

And the others were already out there.

Echo stood in the center of one circle, a sonic disk hovering near his shoulder, pulsing in time with Areum's footwork as she struck at a moving target. Kyung Min was off to the side, arms raised in a defensive stance as Haneul moved between shadows behind her. Jisoo and Hyunwoo ran coordination drills nearby.

Joon leaned against a cracked pillar, arms crossed, watching it all with a faint scowl like it was his duty to find flaws in everything.

Seul wasn't standing apart this time. She moved through the space, stopping occasionally to give a nod or correction. A quiet presence, but rooted in the rhythm of it all.

As Jin's group stepped into view, a few glanced their way.

Doyun waved off a concerned look from Areum. "No scratches. We're good."

Mina cracked her neck. "One named down."

Yujin didn't say anything. Just walked past them and dropped into a seat beneath a tree, tailbone hitting root with a thud.

Jin stopped for a moment. Watching. Letting the air settle.

Then someone came from the school entrance.

It was Taesung—easy grin, acid already wiped off his jaw, clothes changed. He jogged up to Jin, a bit of leftover energy in his step.

"Hey," he said, slightly breathless. "He's awake. Said he wants to talk to you."

Jin nodded once. "Alright."

"You want me to go with you?"

Jin shook his head. "I'll handle it."

Taesung raised both hands. "Your funeral."

Then he turned and walked back to the others.

Jin stood alone for a breath longer, watching the courtyard—the quiet training drills, the low murmurs, the tree rising behind the school like a living monument.

Then he turned and walked toward the building.

The steps were cracked but solid beneath his boots. Moss brushed the edges of the walls, and faint green veins traced through what remained of the concrete, but the doorway stood unchanged—open, waiting.

He pushed through it without hesitation.

Cool air met him inside. Dim light filtered through the windows, casting patterns across the hallway floors. The hum of life outside faded behind him, replaced by a different kind of stillness—the kind that settled deeper, quieter.

He didn't slow his pace.

He knew where he was going.

And somewhere beyond the quiet, he was waiting.