Chapter 3

This... this was my 'Enforcer'?

He looked more like a Vampire Count who'd just emerged from a gothic castle, honestly.

I stood frozen, stammering, “You... hello, are you Mr. Vance from the security company?”

He lifted an eyelid and glanced at me, his gaze so chilling it sent a shiver down my spine.

From his throat, he emitted a faint 'hmm,' which counted as an answer.

I looked at him, then at the photo of the muscle hunk on my phone, plunging into deep self-doubt.

“Um... Mr. Vance, is there... a slight discrepancy between your photo and your actual appearance?” I carefully phrased my words. “You look rather... refined. Not quite like the bare-handed bear fighter described in the profile.”

At my words, the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch, but the curve was so slight it was almost invisible.

“Oh, it was Photoshopped,” he said, concise and to the point.

Me: (Speechless)

No, seriously, dude. You didn't just Photoshop a picture; you Photoshopped a whole different person!

You look like you're barely strong enough to open a jar, and they Photoshopped you into a bear fighter? This is fraud!

I immediately pulled out my phone, ready to call the security company to complain and demand a refund.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, his voice cold and clear, like ice cubes clinking in a glass.

He took a step closer. I'm five foot ten, and I still had to tilt my head back slightly to look at him.

The huge height difference created an invisible sense of oppression, and the chilly aura around him grew even stronger.

“Your livestream is going to be late,” he reminded me.

I checked my phone; it was a string of non-stop calls of doom from Brenda, my devil agent.

I jolted. There was no time to worry about refunds. If I didn't start streaming soon, this month's bonus would be gone!

“Fine,” I conceded, but still nervously looked him up and down. “Mr. Vance, are you sure you can handle this? There are real ghosts in there.”

He didn't answer, just stared at me with those pitch-black eyes, making my skin crawl.

I felt like I hadn't just hired a bodyguard; I'd hired an extra ghost for myself.

Biting the bullet, I turned on my livestream equipment.

The moment the camera light flashed on, I instantly switched from a scaredy-cat to my confident 'Chloe the Daring' mode.

“Hello, hello! My amazing fam, I'm here! Thanks to my top supporter for the rocket! Today, we're challenging the legendary Blackwood Asylum!” I forced a professional smile at the camera, then turned it to the man beside me. “For everyone's safety... no, for *my* safety, I specially hired an elite bodyguard, Mr. Vance!”

The comments section instantly scrolled to life.

[!!! This bodyguard is so hot!]

[He's hot, but why does he look so frail? Chloe, are you sure he can fight ghosts?]

[I feel like he's scarier than a ghost... those eyes, *shivers*...]

[Hey, don't talk trash, that's called the cool, aloof type! Obsessed, obsessed!]

I cleared my throat, forcefully trying to salvage my reputation. “My fam, don't judge a book by its cover. Mr. Vance is a man of few words, but fierce – that's how all the true masters are, understand?”

Damon Vance, my 'unfortunate' bodyguard, remained expressionless throughout, like a statue devoid of emotion.

We walked, one in front of the other, through the asylum's main entrance.

A stale, musty smell, mixed with the sharp scent of disinfectant, hit us, instantly making me uncomfortable.

The hallway was dimly lit, with large patches of paint peeling off the walls, revealing dark red brick underneath, like dried bloodstains.

I swallowed hard, feeling goosebumps crawl all over my back.

“My fam, we've now entered the main building, and as you can see, the environment here is... remarkably 'preserved,'” I said, my palms sweating as I gripped my powerful flashlight tighter.