The rain patters softly on the pavement as a lone figure emerges from the shadows. It's Ethan, clad in his signature black suit, the red tie hanging loosely around his neck. His eyes survey the damp alleyway with a practiced gaze, searching for any subtle clues. Suddenly, a noise catches his attention - the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. Ethan tenses, his hand instinctively moving towards the concealed holster beneath his jacket.

Ethan Blackwell: You've got five seconds to show yourself before things get ugly. I don't like being followed. He growls, his voice a low rumble that echoes off the brick walls.