Jace walked in the dark and desolate streets of the East Borough.
It was midnight. It was also his fifth day of acting as a clown.
When it was day, he would perform tricks as a clown in streets full of people.
At night, he went around jumping, laughing crazily, scaring people who were out, and striking fear in those who slept by the roads.
Jace believed that clowns were not only entertaining perforrs but also creepy people, for so obvious reasons.
And he was acting both parts quite well.
In fact, there were even rumors about a crazy clown running and jumping around in the night through the soot-stained alleys.
His potion was being digested with significant speed, but it would still take over a month to fully digest at this rate.
Currently, he was walking on a three-story building, looking around for people to scare.
The cold night air whistled through the gaps in the brickwork.
He reached the edge and jumped in a perfect flip, landing silently on a two-story building.
As a Clown, he couldn't help but marvel at his physical limits.
At first, he was kind of reluctant to do acrobatic moves such as this, but once he got the hang of it, it was quite enjoyable for him as well.
It made him realize that he was sothing more than a human.
He looked around from the top.
The place was dark with only a few streetlamps lit, flickering weakly against the oppressive fog, but a half-crimson moon helped him see in the dark.
He saw, in a narrow alleyway below, a man with a slightly rugged appearance. He seed paranoid, constantly looking around; he also seed to be searching for sothing.
Jace pulled a pendant from his wrist. "That man is known as 'Bobby Vane,'" he muttered in Hers seven tis.
The topaz started rotating clockwise, indicating a positive response.
Jace had checked the list of wanted n in the East Boroughs; Bobby here was one of them. He was a small-ti drug dealer and an addict.
Jace smiled wryly. It's ti to get my hands dirty.
---
Bobby was frantically looking for a pack in the dark alley, his hands trembling as he brushed aside rusted cans and rotting trash.
Ever since he had beco a wanted man, things had been hard for him.
It all started because a kid freaked out when he took the product and went to the hospital, where they contacted the police.
But that didn't an he was going to stop.
He needed to sell it—that was the only way he knew how to make money—and he also needed to use it himself.
He had left a wad of cash here in the afternoon, so soone must've replaced it with a pack of drugs.
He just had to find it and everything would be okay.
Unbeknownst to him, while he was searching, a clown climbed down a water drainage pipe in the darkness behind him.
The clown made no sound.
He walked up behind the man and whispered excitedly, "Whatcha looking for?"
Bobby was scared shitless.
He spun around and threw a desperate punch, but the clown dodged it with fluid, effortless grace, backing away two steps.
The clown threw his hands in the air, showing he ant no harm.
"Hey! Don't be like that now. Tell what you are searching for, then we'll search together, hehe." The clown's voice was high-pitched, and he had a constant, wide smile painted on his face.
"Who the fuck are you?!" Bobby shouted and charged at the clown.
But no matter what he did, the clown always dodged him.
He moved like a leaf in the wind, swaying just out of reach of Bobby's clumsy swings.
He even mocked him by laughing as Bobby stumbled over a wooden crate.
Bobby continued regardless; as an addict, his ntal and physical condition wasn't exactly great.
At so point in this pointless brawl, the clown pulled out so poker cards.
With a flick of his wrist, they flew through the air like razor blades.
Bobby scread as the first card sliced his cheek.
The clown didn't stop; he continued throwing cards at him with deadly precision, the cards whistling through the stagnant alley air.
In a mont or two, Bobby looked down at his body. He was riddled with slashes, and several cards were embedded deep in his arms and chest.
---
Jace looked at the bloodied man in front of him.
Bobby had fallen to his knees, gasping heavily and looking up at the painted face with a terrified expression.
But Jace only showed him a wild smile.
He was surprised that the guy had no knife or gun. So drug dealer you are.
He pulled out a final card and threw it at the man's neck.
Bobby Vane was dead, killed by Jace.
Jace looked around, searching for what the man had been looking for.
A few monts later, he found it hidden behind so garbage.
Looking at the packet, Jace didn't need to open it to know what was inside.
He looked back at the dead body riddled with cards.
Jace tilted his head as he had a... sick thought.
He wondered if he should proceed with it.
He sighed and decided to go with it, as it was necessary to digest his potion quickly.
First, he pulled the cards from the body and others that were lying around, burning them away with his spirituality.
Then he slashed the drug packet with a pocket knife and spread the white powder over the dead body like morbid snow.
And for the final touch, he crouched near the head.
With his pocket knife, he slashed at the face. After a few monts, he stood up and looked at his handiwork.
This will do.
The face of the corpse now had two deep cuts at the edges of the mouth, curling upward into a wide, permanent smile.
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