In the midst of a torrential downpour, the rain-soaked streets of Seattle became a watery canvas, the once-familiar sand losing its surface to the relentless deluge. Behind the wheel of a weathered car, its exterior bearing the scars of time, sat a seasoned 50-year-old man. The rhythmic drumming of rain on the car roof competed with the low hum of a radio playing a nostalgic tune, and a cigarette dangled from the corner of the man's mouth.

As he approached the destination, a place shrouded in mystery and perhaps danger, the man's weather-beaten car wheezed to a stop. The worn-out door creaked open, revealing an interior that bore witness to countless journeys. Without hesitation, the man emerged, standing tall with an air of quiet pride. He adjusted his coat and cap, undeterred by the damage around him, a seasoned investigator ready to face the storm both within and beyond the confines of his well-traveled vehicle.

Amidst the murmur of rain, the investigator approached the crime scene, where a yellow tape quivered in the damp breeze. With measured steps, he navigated the delicate boundary, respectful of the silent narrative it held. The tape, like a hesitant guardian, fluttered in the rain-soaked air, framing the somber stage where the mystery had unfolded.

As he ventured further, another investigator emerged from the shadows, extending a handshake with a professional and knowing smile.

Albert: Welcome Mr.Alvin!!.. ( with an air of professionalism ) I'm delighted to have you here. As you are here, I hope this also succeeds as I know this is your final case before you retire.

Alvin: Hello, Albert!!...

The handshake spoke of shared experiences, a camaraderie born in the pursuit of truth. Raindrops drummed on the yellow tape, a...