The old rail yard had been empty for years. Rusted tracks, broken lamps, and freight cars that hadn't moved in decades.
Kenjaku had been standing still for several minutes, staring into the dark between two rows of train cars. He wasn't here by chance.
He had followed the signs for a long time. For nearly forty years, he'd tracked stories that didn't match normal curse behavior. Disappearances with no pattern. Cursed corpses drained of energy. Sightings of something tall, quiet, and wrong.
Something that didn't leave behind cursed energy residue. Something that didn't behave like a curse at all.
And now, finally, he was close.
He took a slow breath, eyes scanning the yard. "I know you're here," he said "You've gotten sloppy."
No response. Not that he expected one.
Kenjaku stepped forward, boots crunching lightly against gravel. His pace was calm, measured. He wasn't worried. He just didn't want it running.
He stopped next to a stack of rusted crates and waited.
Then, a soft sound. A shift of weight.
Kenjaku turned his head.
There it was.
The Faceless One stood a few meters away, just between two freight cars. It was as tall as a man, its limbs long and thin. Its body didn't shimmer with cursed energy. In fact, it gave off nothing at all.
But it was a curse. He was sure of that.
The thing didn't move. It stood still, head tilted just slightly to one side. Its face — if it had one — was a void.
Kenjaku didn't move either. He had imagined this moment more than once.
"I've been looking for you for a long time," he said. Still, the curse didn't react.
Kenjaku let his hands fall to his sides. "You've been careful. Never staying in one place. Always one step ahead of anyone who tried to track you."
Silence.
He smiled a little. "But not me. I don't give up that easily."
The Faceless One took one step forward. It was a quiet movement, but there was weight behind it. Its body shifted just enough to signal it was aware — aware of Kenjaku, of the words, of the danger.
The head tilted the other way.
It was watching him.
Kenjaku's smile faded. "You've killed without reason. Studied without pattern. You don't consume energy the way others do. You don't act on instinct. So tell me…"
He took a small step forward.
"…What are you really doing out here?"
For the first time, something changed in the curse's posture. Its fingers twitched, not in threat, but as if it understood the question.
Kenjaku narrowed his eyes.
The Faceless One didn't speak. But it didn't run either.
And that was enough.
Kenjaku felt it — not cursed energy, but a presence. A wrongness pressing in around the edges of the air.
He didn't need words.
This was a meeting. A test.
And the real conversation hadn't even started yet.