I am Ava, an agent who has fought through the darkness and crime in the FBI for many years. I have witnessed too much evil and brutality; the bloody scenes and cunning criminals have forged my heart into something as hard as steel. In this male-dominated world, I must be more resilient and decisive than the men around me to earn respect and stand my ground.

　　The morning sun had not fully penetrated the clouds when I was jolted awake by a frantic phone call. On the other end, a colleague's tense voice informed me that a strangely deceased body had been found in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. The scene was bizarre, and I needed to investigate immediately. I quickly washed up, dressed, grabbed my sidearm and credentials, and rushed out.

　　When I arrived at the scene, the police tape was already up, and forensic experts and other colleagues were busy at work. I took a deep breath and bent down to slip under the tape. A sharp, putrid smell hit me, causing me to wrinkle my nose. I put on gloves and approached the body, each step feeling heavy, my heartbeat quickening involuntarily.

　　“Ava, you’re here,” my colleague Carl greeted me, his face pale and eyes betraying a hint of fear.

　　“What’s going on?” I asked, my gaze fixed on the twisted body on the ground. The victim was a young male, contorted in a grotesque position, as if he had suffered immense pain before dying. His skin was shriveled and colorless, as though all vitality had been drained from him. His eye sockets were deep-set, his eyeballs bulging, and his cracked lips revealed yellowed teeth, with some dark substance lingering in his mouth.

　　“Preliminary judgment suggests the cause of death is some unknown disease or toxin,” Carl replied. “However, there are no signs of a struggle at the scene, nor any suspicious items or clues.”

　　I crouched down to examine the body closely. I noticed the victim's fingers were clenching the ground tightly, dirt embedded beneath his nails, indicating he had experienced extreme fear and struggle before his death. Standing up, I surveyed the area; the abandoned factory was filled with an eerie silence and a chilling atmosphere. The walls were covered in graffiti and rust, debris scattered across the floor, and old machinery piled in corners, hiding countless secrets.

　　“Have you identified the victim?” I asked.

　　“Still investigating. So far, we only know he was a homeless man who often wandered around here,” Carl said.

　　I nodded, my mind swirling with questions. This case was too strange, shrouded in mystery like a fog enveloping my thoughts. I decided to widen the search, hoping to uncover some useful clues.

　　Just then, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID—it was the sheriff. I pressed the answer button, and the sheriff's serious voice came through: “Ava, I’ve found you a consultant. He’s a scientist with extensive research on various mysterious phenomena and diseases. He might help you unravel this mystery. Head back to the station and meet him.”

　　I frowned, feeling skeptical. A scientist? I thought to myself, what could these bookworms possibly contribute? They only fiddle with their test tubes in labs, completely clueless about actual investigations. But I couldn’t defy the sheriff’s orders, so I reluctantly agreed.

　　After exchanging a few words with Carl, I turned and left the scene, heading to the station. All the while, I pondered the possibilities of the case, but I remained at a loss. A wave of frustration washed over me, coupled with resistance toward the upcoming scientist consultant.

　　Upon returning to the station, I walked straight to the conference room. Pushing the door open, I saw a man standing by the window, his back to me, gazing outside. He was tall, wearing a white shirt and dark jeans, his hair slightly disheveled, giving off a casual vibe.

　　“Are you the scientist?” I asked, my tone laced with disdain.

　　The man turned around, and I finally saw his face. He wore glasses, his eyes deep and bright, with a high nose and slightly upturned lips revealing a faint smile. His complexion was somewhat pale, giving him a delicate appearance, as if a gust of wind could knock him over.

　　“Hello, I’m Ethan. It’s a pleasure to collaborate with you,” he said in a calm, gentle voice.

　　“Hmm, I hope you can actually be of help,” I scoffed, not hiding my skepticism.

　　Ethan didn’t seem to mind my attitude. He walked to the conference table, sat down, and opened a folder. “I’ve gathered some information about the case, but I need more details. Can you provide a thorough account of the findings at the scene?” He looked at me, his eyes filled with anticipation.

　　Reluctantly, I took a seat across from him and began to recount the situation. During my narration, I intentionally left out certain details to see if he could truly catch any inconsistencies.

　　Ethan listened intently, occasionally jotting down notes. When I finished, he looked up at me, slightly furrowing his brow. “Did you overlook some important information?” he asked.

　　I was taken aback by his sharpness but stubbornly replied, “No, I’ve told you everything I know.”

　　Ethan studied me for a moment before sighing. “Alright, since you’re unwilling to share, I’ll have to analyze based on the existing information. From your description, the victim's symptoms are very peculiar, not resembling a typical illness or poisoning. I suspect it could be a new type of virus or bacterial infection, but further testing and research are needed to confirm.”

　　I listened to him, feeling a mix of disbelief. “Is that all? This is your so-called professional analysis?” I mocked.

　　Ethan remained unfazed, calmly meeting my gaze. “This is just my preliminary assessment; more evidence is needed to support it. I suggest we conduct a comprehensive autopsy on the victim, including blood, tissue, and organ tests, while also performing a more detailed examination of the scene to look for any potential virus or bacterial samples.”

　　I regarded him, contemplating. Although I was skeptical of his words, I had no better options. “Fine, we’ll do it your way. But I warn you, don’t overstep your bounds on my turf. If you interfere with my work, I won’t hesitate to kick you out,” I said firmly.

　　Ethan smiled slightly and nodded. “Don’t worry; I’m here to help, not to interfere with your work.”

　　Thus began a journey of collaboration filled with contradictions and challenges between me and this scientist, Ethan, whom I found hard to tolerate. I didn’t know what the future held, but I was driven by one belief: to uncover the truth and seek justice for the deceased. And could Ethan, with his scientific knowledge, find a breakthrough in this perplexing case? Everything remained uncertain as we were about to step into this fog-laden realm of truth.