The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill-Chapter 7: The Silence is Worse

The room was too quiet.

Not safe. Not peaceful. Just quiet.

Jin sat against the wall, pipe resting across his lap. His fingers ached, his muscles stiff and sore from everything that had happened. But he barely noticed.

The others were scattered around the room, backs pressed against desks or slumped against walls, faces pale and hollow.

No one moved.

Not because they were comfortable.

Because they didn't know what else to do.

The barricades had been built—desks, chairs, and cabinets stacked in front of the doors. But they weren't secure. Not really.

Jin's eyes flickered toward the entrance.

Would it even hold if something tried to break in?

He doubted it.

But nobody said it out loud.

The dim emergency light flickered weakly above them, casting jagged, warped shadows across the ruined office space. The room felt smaller than before.

No one wanted to speak.

No one wanted to sleep.

They just... sat there.

Then—

Someone let out a quiet breath.

"This doesn't feel real."

Jin turned his head.

The man with the metal rod sat a few feet away, knees drawn up, his weapon resting limply at his side. His gaze was unfocused, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Like, really," he muttered. "Think about it." His fingers tapped against the floor, slow and uneven. "One second, we're just... working. Living normal lives."

His voice dropped.

"And now we're here."

No one responded.

The man let out a breathless, bitter laugh. "This is just like those movies, isn't it?" His voice sounded far away.

A quiet voice near him muttered, "Yeah? Except movies have rules."

Someone snorted, but there was no humor in it.

Jin exhaled, rubbing his fingers along the metal of the pipe. It wasn't wrong. This felt like one of those apocalypse stories—except it was real.

And reality was crueler.

No tutorial. No explanations. No guarantees.

Someone shifted uncomfortably.

"...Has the system said anything yet?"

Jin didn't move.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

Someone else muttered, "It hasn't spoken since this started."

Silence.

Jin exhaled sharply.

The system had given them skills. It had given them monsters.

But it hadn't explained anything.

The thought settled heavy in his chest.

And something told him—whatever the system did next, it wasn't going to be good.

The quiet dragged on.

Minutes passed, maybe more. No one spoke. No one moved.

Jin sat still, his fingers idly tapping against the pipe resting on his lap. His body was exhausted, but his mind refused to slow down.

Every time his eyelids drooped, his thoughts spiraled back to the stairwell. The screams. The sound of tearing flesh. The way the monster had dragged her away.

He forced his eyes back open.

The silence wasn't comforting. It was suffocating.

Then—

A loud stomach growl.

The sound cut through the air like a gunshot.

Jin blinked.

No one laughed.

No one even reacted.

Because they all felt it.

His own stomach twisted uncomfortably. His throat was dry. Scratchy.

When was the last time he had even had water?

Someone shifted nearby. "We need water," a man muttered, his voice hoarse and tired.

A woman licked her lips, nodding faintly. "Food, too."

The weight of the situation finally settled in.

They had been running for their lives since this nightmare began. There hadn't been time to think about basic survival.

But now that they had stopped...

It was all they could think about.

Jin's fingers curled around the pipe.

They had nothing. No food. No water.

How long could they last?

Someone hesitated. "Maybe... we should check the break room," they murmured. "There should be one on this floor, right?"

No one answered.

Because no one wanted to leave.

Just the thought of stepping outside, of opening a door, of seeing something waiting in the dark—

Jin could feel it. The hesitation. The fear.

They weren't resting.

They were waiting to die.

Jin exhaled sharply.

Then—he stood up.

The movement was sudden. Loud. The quiet tension shattered.

Everyone snapped their heads toward him.

"What are you doing?" someone asked, voice wary.

Jin stretched his fingers against the pipe, rolling his shoulders with a quiet grunt. His ribs ached, but it didn't matter.

He glanced toward the doorway.

"There's a break room on this floor," he said. His voice was steady, blunt. "I'm going to check it."

Silence.

Then—immediate pushback.

"We don't know what's out there," a woman snapped, eyes wide with panic.

Jin's expression didn't change.

"And we don't know how long we'll last without food or water either."

No one had a response to that.

The fear in the room was thick, pressing in on them like a slow suffocating weight.

Jin let out a breath, rolling his neck.

"I'm not telling anyone else to come." He glanced toward Echo's unconscious body, toward the faint blue glow of the healer's hands. "But we don't know how long he's going to need to recover. And I'm not waiting until we're too weak to move."

No one tried to stop him this time.

Jin's fingers barely grazed the edge of the barricade—

And then he heard it.

A sound. Faint. Distant.

His grip on the pipe tightened instinctively.

It wasn't like the monsters before.

No low growls. No wet, dragging movements.

Footsteps.

Slow. Uneven. Somewhere in the building.

Jin froze.

The others heard it too.

A sharp inhale. Someone stiffened, clutching their weapon tighter.

Then—the footsteps stopped.

The silence that followed was thicker than before.

Jin's jaw clenched.

Someone whispered, "Another survivor?"

Another voice, quieter, hesitant. "...Or something worse?"

The weight of the question settled heavily over them.

Jin exhaled slowly, forcing his body to relax.

The footsteps had come from somewhere below them.

Second floor? First? It was hard to tell. The sound had been too far, too muffled.

Then—

The footsteps started again.

Jin's pulse picked up.

They weren't just walking aimlessly.

They were getting closer.

Jin lifted the pipe slightly, adjusting his grip. His mind was already racing through possibilities.

If it was a survivor, then what?

If it wasn't, then—

His grip tightened.

No one else spoke. No one moved.

The footsteps kept coming.

And then—

The system interrupted.

A chime.

A soft, mechanical hum vibrated through the air.

Then—a blue screen flickered to life in front of them.

Not just one—all of them.

Every single survivor in the room jerked at the same time, startled as the same glowing message appeared before them.

[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT]

Congratulations. You have survived for 1 hour.

Time Remaining: [23:00:00]

[Rewards:???]

[Current Ranking: ???]

[Rewards Will Be Issued Based on Placement]

For a moment, no one reacted.

Then—

"What the fuck?"

The words came out flat, almost numb.

Jin barely had time to process the message before the silence shattered.

"Ranking?" someone breathed. "What the hell do you mean, ranking?!"

A bitter laugh, raw and strained. "You mean to tell me we have to play this game to survive now?"

Then—the anger hit.

A sharp bang as someone slammed their fist into a desk.

"First, it throws us into this nightmare—now it's keeping score?!"

"For what?!"

A woman let out a harsh, shaking breath. "How the hell are we being ranked?! We don't even know what the system wants from us!"

Jin stayed silent, staring at the screen.

That was the problem.

The system had given them a ranking system... but no way to understand it.

No list. No scores. Just '???'.

It wasn't just tracking them.

It was hiding what actually mattered.

Jin clenched his fists. Why?

Then—

A sudden snarl.

"This system is fucking with us!"

Like a switch had flipped, rage erupted through the room.

"This is a joke—a goddamn joke!"

"Like we're some kind of entertainment?!"

"Like we're part of some sick competition?!"

Then—someone lost it.

A man near the barricade suddenly lunged at his screen, swinging his weapon straight through it. The glowing text distorted and flickered but it didn't disappear.

They couldn't even touch it.

"FUCK!" he roared, kicking over a chair. "What the hell do you want from us?!"

Another person clutched their head, shaking. "It's treating this like a goddamn game."

"Like we're players—like we're pieces on a fucking board."

"Why the hell does it even matter what rank we are?! Who cares?!"

Jin gritted his teeth.

It mattered.

The system wouldn't introduce rankings for no reason.

And if rewards were based on placement, that meant there were losers.

Jin exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"Screw the system," someone muttered. "I don't care about some ranking—I just want to survive."

Jin clenched his jaw. Yeah. He felt the same way.

But the system didn't just exist for no reason.

It had introduced this ranking for something.

And whatever it was—he had a feeling they wouldn't like it.

Then—he remembered.

The footsteps.

His body tensed, the back of his mind snapping back into focus.

They were still there.

Still coming.

Still getting closer.

Jin gritted his teeth.

Whoever was out there saw this message too.

His grip tightened around the pipe.

He didn't hesitate.

He pushed the barricade aside.

And without another word—

He stepped into the dark.