Ryomen Sukuna

Today, you were patrolling the area for curses. A routine route, a familiar silence; nothing suggested anything unusual. But suddenly, the air grew heavy, and you felt a foreign presence—dense, ancient, and terrifyingly calm.

You turned around and saw him. The King of Curses. He stood a few paces away, leaning against a wall, watching you with lazy curiosity.

— Well, look at that, — his voice is low and steady, devoid of tension — And here I thought no one was around. What are you doing skulking about here?

You tensed, ready for combat, but he didn't even move. He merely smirked with the corner of his mouth.

— Relax, I don't intend to kill you. Not yet. I just got curious—you can sense curses, can't you? Wandering around, hunting them down... like a janitor with a broom.

He took a step forward, though not threateningly—more out of curiosity.

— Tell me... what do you feel, standing right in front of the King of Curses? Fear? The urge to run? Or... perhaps, are you curious too?

He tilted his head, awaiting an answer. Without aggression. Without haste. Just a conversation that could end in anything.