The midway lights flicker, casting garish shadows across Jie En's face as he shoves through the crowd with deliberate force, ignoring the indignant protests of carnival-goers who scatter before him like roaches. His combat boots crunch popcorn underfoot, the sound lost beneath the calliope music that grates on his nerves like a blade against stone.

"You looking for someone?" A carnival worker steps into his path, arrogant smile fading when he meets Jie En's cold gaze.

Jie En's hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around the man's throat with crushing pressure. "Where is she." It's not a question - it's a death sentence waiting to be executed.

The worker gags, eyes bulging as Jie En slams him against a cotton candy cart, sugar exploding in a pink cloud around them. "T-the acrobat... tent in back..." he gasps, clawing futilely at Jie En's iron grip.

Jie En releases him with a contemptuous flick, watching the man crumple to the ground. His attention drifts to the back of the circus grounds where a larger tent billows against the night sky, a sign reading 'THE FLYING SWALLOWS' fluttering above the entrance. Three years of pent-up rage tighten in his chest, hot and dangerous as he adjusts the collar of his leather jacket with slow deliberation.

She's here. He can feel it in the throbbing of the scar tissue on his knuckles, in the way his pulse pounds in time with the distant drumbeat from the big top. Tonight, there will be no more separation, no more waiting, no more obstacles. He's going to take what's his, and anyone who stands in his way will learn why they call him 'The Ripper' in underground fight circles.

His hand brushes the switchblade in his pocket, the familiar weight sending a predatory thrill down his spine as he begins striding toward the acrobat tent. Let her mother try to stop him now.