The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 97: Return from the Blade

[Bonding Failed]

The message hovered across Jin’s vision, faint against the brightening sky.

He sucked in a breath like someone yanked him out of deep water.

Hands were on him immediately—grabbing his shoulders, shaking him, half-pulling him upright.

"He’s awake!" Areum’s voice cracked, half-laughing, half-sobbing.

"Thank God," Hanuel muttered, almost dropping him in relief.

Doyun swore under his breath, stumbling back like he couldn’t believe it.

Jin coughed once, the air burning in his throat. His body felt heavy, like he hadn’t moved in years. The courtyard around him came into focus—the cracked stone under his back, the sun rising lazily above the rooftops, the broken fence around the old training yard.

And them.

Seul stood a few steps away, arms crossed so tight they might as well have been keeping her standing. She was talking low to Joon and Echo, her expression locked in that stubborn, focused frown she wore when she was trying not to panic.

When she saw him stir, her shoulders loosened—not all the way. But enough.

She was already moving before he could say anything.

Joon and Echo weren’t far behind her, Echo pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie like he was ready to do CPR if needed, Joon tense and scowling.

"You’ve been out cold for hours, man," Joon said, voice tight. "Hours."

"Scared the hell out of us," Echo muttered, half under his breath.

Seul crouched beside him. Not rushing. Not dramatic. She just settled there, close enough that he could feel the weight of her stare.

"When I left you out here earlier," she said, voice low and steady, "I didn’t expect you to go through all this."

There was more she didn’t say. It hung between them.

Jin pushed himself upright with a grunt. Areum and Hanuel immediately grabbed under his arms like nervous spotters, even though he was already moving.

"You even made this crazy sound," Areum blurted, cheeks pink. "Like—like you got stabbed or something. Then you just collapsed."

"We thought you were dying," Hanuel added, serious as a funeral.

Jin winced. "Yeah. Felt like it too."

Doyun hovered at the edge of the group, looking like he wanted to say something but kept his mouth shut.

Jin flexed his fingers once, feeling the broken katana still resting against his leg. It felt heavier now. Like it carried more than just weight.

He shook his head and exhaled hard.

"I should explain," he said.

They all crowded a little closer, even Seul. No one joked. No one interrupted.

"I unlocked a new skill," Jin said. "Called Weapon Bonding. I figured... I’d try it with my sword."

"And it knocked you out?" Joon asked.

"Not exactly," Jin muttered. "It pulled me somewhere else."

They watched him, silent.

"An inner world, maybe. It felt real enough. I landed in some kind of old city... ruins. Mist everywhere. It wasn’t like anything we’ve seen before."

"And?" Seul asked, voice carefully even.

"I met someone," Jin said. "A swordsman. Strong. Insanely strong."

He hesitated.

"Muramasa."

Echo frowned. "That... doesn’t sound Korean."

"It’s not," Hanuel said, stepping forward quickly, almost too quickly. His polearm bumped against his back as he straightened up, eyes sharp.

"The name Muramasa... it’s Japanese," Hanuel said. "Old Japanese. Like... really old."

Jin tilted his head, curious despite himself.

Hanuel’s voice dropped a little, like he was dredging up half-forgotten lessons.

"I’m not sure on all the details," he admitted, "but there’s this legend. The Seven Saints of the Sword. They’re supposed to be the greatest weapon masters across history. Different times, different places, but all connected by skill that went beyond normal humans."

He glanced at Jin.

"Muramasa was one of them. They called him the Demon Blade."

Areum made a face. "Why demon?"

"Because," Hanuel said, shifting his grip nervously, "he was said to have killed a demon that was terrorizing Heian Japan. Alone. With nothing but his sword."

Jin raised an eyebrow.

"But that’s not all," Hanuel added. "He... he kept going. Slaying armies. Cutting down warlords. The way they tell it, he was less a man and more a disaster. Some people worshipped him like a god. Others said his blade was cursed because it craved blood."

The group fell silent.

Jin ran a hand through his hair, feeling the faint sting of dried sweat.

"He didn’t seem cursed," he muttered. "Just... absolute."

Joon huffed, folding his arms. "And you fought him?"

"Briefly," Jin said. "He killed me."

That got a reaction.

Joon’s hands twitched at his sides. Echo stiffened. Seul’s frown deepened, her body angled subtly in front of Jin like she was ready to catch him if he collapsed again.

"I’m fine now," Jin said quickly. "Or... mostly."

He rested the broken katana across his knees, staring at the jagged, uneven blade.

"It’s crazy," he said out loud, more to himself. "But maybe it makes sense."

Seul watched him carefully. "Explain."

Jin leaned back slightly, resting his weight on his palms.

"Remember what AESTROS said back at the firehouse? About myths and legends not being fake? That out there, somewhere, they all exist. That history didn’t die. It just... changed places."

He shook his head slowly.

"If that’s true... it wouldn’t be impossible. To run into one."

Echo exhaled sharply through his nose. "You think you got pulled into sword legend hell?"

"Feels like it," Jin said.

Joon whistled low. "Man, we’re gonna need a manual for all this weird stuff soon."

No one laughed.

The sun warmed the back of Jin’s neck, but it didn’t quite shake the lingering cold inside him.

"Earlier," Areum said quietly, "when you collapsed... it looked like you were fighting something. You reached for your sword."

Hanuel nodded. "You bled through your mouth a little. Like—"

He hesitated.

"Like you took a hit."

Jin smiled thinly. "I did."

He thought about Muramasa’s blade, the way it split the air without resistance, the way it cut through him like he was made of paper.

He thought about standing back up.

And falling again.

"We thought you were dying," Areum said again, quieter this time.

Jin looked around at all of them—the kids, Joon’s scowl, Echo’s worry half-hidden under sarcasm, Seul’s steady stare.

"I’m not dying," Jin said. "Not today."

Seul didn’t look convinced.

She glanced at the sword across his lap. Then at his face.

"You’re thinking about trying it again," she said. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

It wasn’t a question.

Jin hesitated for a breath.

Then shook his head.

"Not right now," he said. "We’ve got other priorities."

He pushed himself to his feet slowly, ignoring the way the world tilted for half a second.

"We still have recruits to train today. That didn’t change."

Joon snorted. "Yeah, great. Let’s not get murdered by ghost swords next time, alright?"

"I’ll think about it," Jin said dryly.

His stomach growled loud enough to make Areum jump.

Seul arched an eyebrow at him.

"Please tell me you made something," Jin said. "I’m starving."

Seul rolled her eyes but hooked a hand under his arm to steady him anyway.

"Come on," she said. "I made enough for an army."

Echo snorted. "Good. Cause Jin looks like he fought one."

They started walking together, slow and steady.

Areum and Hanuel trailed close behind Jin, throwing glances at him like he might disappear if they blinked.

Seul, Echo, and Jin led the way back toward the base, the cracked courtyard falling away behind them.

Jin glanced up at the sky, hand brushing the broken katana at his side.

The weight of everything that had just happened didn’t vanish.

It just settled in a little deeper.

Waiting.

Watching.

And somewhere beyond the blue sky and broken clouds, the road ahead was already shifting again.