The Phantom's Gambit Chapter 96: A Pawn

"You can see ," he said, looking stunned.

I was equally stunned.

Did I look like soone with vision problems? But then again, he hadn’t asked a question; his words were more of a statent.

So, I simply affird them. "And your pink boxers."

He scoffed in disbelief and turned to look at my interviewer. I, in turn, turned to her, wondering what on earth was happening, only to et with a stunned expression of her own.

Okay, this was getting awkward.

My gaze drifted to the lady in the long-sleeved shirt, and I noticed one of the buttons wasn’t properly done. My eyes widened as I put two and two together - I had interrupted sothing between them.

But did I really interrupt sothing if they weren’t ant to be doing it in a workplace, though? That question I asked myself didn’t stop from standing up to say,

I apologize if I’m interrupting…" My gaze wandered to the man again, and for the first ti, I took in his features, realizing he looked familiar. I shook the thoughts away as my gaze settled back on her, the lady who had interviewed .

"Thank you for the job offer, this ans a lot. Can I get the materials I would need for the work schedules to et up with your standards?"

But instead of acknowledging , they resud their peculiar conversation, completely disregarding my presence.

"I can’t sll her kind." the lady said to the man.

" neither," the man in turn replied.

’Sll ? Why the fuck would they need to sll ?’ I wondered to myself.

"How can a human see when I’m wearing my lux?" The man asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

I expected the lady to tell him I can see him because I’m not blind and he’s in front of , but Since the lady wasn’t saying anything , I quipped in.

"Because you are right there?" My words ca off as a question, because I was starting to question my sanity.

Or is this a drama club?

If they were paying a huge sum to endure all this madness... I guess it’s worth it... but the least they could do was to see if I wanted to partake in any of it.

"You heard us." The lady’s words deepened my confusion, and I furrowed my brows.

’Not her too… was there so sort of script I wasn’t following?’

I cleared my throat. "It would reassure you to know I’m not facing any challenges with my ears or eyes, in case this is so sort of test—"

"No, you heard us… like we weren’t talking with our mouths," she clarified. "We weren’t moving our lips; we were communicating through our pack link… what— are you?"

I forced a chuckle, trying to downplay the bizarre situation. "Is there sothing I’m missing?"

"What are you?" the man asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I believe you an who—" I started to correct him when a loud growl ripped from his throat. The interviewer shot him a calming glance, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease. What was happening?

My interviewer turned to . "My na is Celine, and we are werewolves."

I stared at her blankly, waiting for her to reveal that it was all a joke, a ploy to scare away from the job. But the breathtaking woman before didn’t crack a smile.

I forced out another chuckle, trying to defuse the tension. But their serious expressions didn’t waver.

"Look, I’m not here for whatever drama or play this is," I said, trying to sound calm. "I’m here for a job... an actual one. Now, if you can’t hire —"

Celine cut off. "If you weren’t hired, I wouldn’t be revealing our identity to you."

My eyes widened in gratitude, and I felt an overwhelming urge to jump up and celebrate finally landing a job. But Celine’s unwavering commitnt to her fantastical claim gave pause. I decided to humor her, thinking that "werewolves" might be so sort of company nickna or team-building gimmick.

"Fine, and I’m a vampire," I said with a straight face, trying to mirror her seriousness. "So, can we sign the necessary docunts and fill in on the details so I can start early tomorrow?"

With speed that was out of this world, Celine brought out an iron clad dagger and pointed it at .

Not in the ’oh you can have it’ way, but in the ’I’m gonna stab you to death with this’ and fear engulfed imdiately.

"I think there has been so sort of mistake," I said, already backing away. I turned to make my way past the open door, but it slamd shut in my face without anyone touching it.

I turned back to the interviewer and the man, and my eyes widened in surprise - he was now fully dressed. If I weren’t in such a dire situation, I would have been distracted by his chiseled features and the impeccable fit of his suit.

But what really caught my attention was the impossibility of it all - getting dressed in a suit, complete with a perfectly knotted tie, in re seconds? It defied logic.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing, and cleared my throat, fighting to compose myself. One lesson I’d learned in law school was to never show fear, to maintain a poker face no matter the circumstances. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to co.

But my bravado was short-lived. Panic set in, and I ntally threw in the towel. ’Nah, screw this,’ I thought, as I frantically banged on the door, screaming for help.

When no rescue ca, I resorted to the only tactic I knew that might intimidate them, despite my own trepidation. "Don’t touch !" I warned, trying to sound braver than I felt. "My father is Mr. Laforteza - he’ll co for you."

Two things happened at once: the man halted his approach, his face frozen in stunned surprise. It was clear that my words had hit their mark.

"THE Mr. Laforteza?" he asked, a sly smile spreading across his lips.