The city was a restless blur of shadows and rain, each streetlight casting long, flickering streaks of amber across the slick pavement. Inside my office, the only light came from a single, dusty lamp perched on an old oak desk, illuminating a clutter of case files and forgotten hopes. The chair groaned as I leaned back, letting the scent of stale coffee fill the air.

I’m InspectorCub, a private eye with a knack for finding trouble and a talent for staying in it. This job's a far cry from the glitz and glamour they show in the movies. It’s more about grinding out the answers from the grime and grit of the city, one lead at a time.

The phone jolted me from my thoughts, its shrill ring cutting through the thick silence like a knife. It was the kind of sound that made your spine tingle with the promise of a new case—or a fresh mess. I had a feeling tonight's call wouldn’t be the exception to the rule. I took a deep breath, grabbed my coat, and prepared to step into the rain-soaked chaos that lay beyond my door. In this line of work, you don’t wait for trouble to find you; you go out and meet it halfway.