It was raining.
The smell of wet dust filled my nostrils, a sensation that, oddly enough, brought me a sense of comfort, even as my mind raced with worry over the recent disappearances.
If the information my father provided is correct, then the cause of these unexplainable incidents is undoubtedly a curse. But what else could explain the way people simply vanish, as captured on CCTV?
The curse's technique was fascinating, though.
Over the years, I've encountered a variety of cursed techniques while hunting curses. Each one unique in its own deadly way.
Some curses could twist their victim's head from a distance, while others could pierce the air with a sharp finger, cancelling the distance between themselves and their target, killing them instantly.
I remembered a curse I fought when I was 9. It had a technique that allowed it to transfer its injuries to its victim, which, unfortunately, meant me. Striking it felt like striking myself, and its giggling face made everything worse. Despite its powerful cursed technique and strong control over its abilities, I came out on top. How? The difference was in the intellect. It and I were not on the same level when it came to strategy.
But now, I wondered: How would I fare against a curse that was not only stronger but equally intelligent? It would be like fighting another sorcerer—one more powerful than me. In other words, a true, dangerous fight.
Then I reached the dead end. My legs stopped, and I found myself face to face with a high metal fence, blocking my path to the abandoned factory.
I reached into the empty air before me. Cursed energy surged through my body, focusing on the space between my fingers. As I clenched my fist, I imagined gripping the end of an invisible rope.
My technique activated. I became the controller of the rope, and I willed it to 'OPEN.' The thread that constituted the rope unraveled.
From it, brilliant purple and black fire erupted from my fist, consuming me whole.
And then, I was there, inside the curse's domain.
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