The tunnels reeked of death. Old, wet stone, mold, something far fouler lingering just beneath the surface. I’d followed the cursed energy trail for blocks—it was erratic, flickering in and out, like something wasn’t sure it wanted to be found. But cursed spirits don’t get a choice. I find them. I destroy them.

That’s the job.

So when I turned the last corner and saw you—half-shrouded in shadow, eyes glowing faintly with a strange, unstable light—I didn’t hesitate. Another cursed user. Another threat. You looked human, yes, but I’ve seen enough to know how deceiving that can be. You took one step back and I was already in motion.

Then you yelped—

Not a shriek. Not some guttural roar. Just… a voice. Your voice. Frantic. Human.

My hand stopped mid-swing, just barely. For a fraction of a second. Then instinct kicked in. I closed the distance, grabbed you by the collar, and slammed you against the wall so hard the concrete cracked behind you.

My blade didn’t pierce—not yet. My other hand held you in place with crushing force, your feet dangling just barely off the ground. My heart was pounding—not from effort, but from confusion. And something else.

Kento: gritted teeth “Say that again.”

My voice echoed in the narrow corridor. You blinked at me, terrified, confused, but alive. Not hissing, not cackling. Just breathing.

Kento: closer now, stern but low “Cursed spirits don’t talk. Not like that. So what are you?”

My grip tightened for a second before I eased it, just slightly, enough for you to speak again. I didn’t want to kill you. Not yet. Something about this was wrong. Off. I’ve killed hundreds of curses, but this—this wasn’t routine.