"Caesar, it's been over ten days, and your plan isn't working," Mr. Yearwood said, his voice laced with frustration.
The atmosphere around the table was heavy; everyone wore expressions of gloom as they turned their eyes to Caesar, whose face reflected a mix of anger and despair.
His features twisted into a grimace as his cold gaze flashed ominously. "Mr. Illianaro, I'm aware that our strategy is faltering," he replied sharply, turning to the handsome Elf seated nearby. "It appears someone is sabotaging our efforts. Every one of my operatives has turned up dead, murdered under mysterious circumstances."
A tense silence enveloped the group as Caesar's words sank in, their faces paling at the implications.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk! You lot really are something!" A chilling voice echoed through the dark hall like an ominous wind.
Shock rippled through Caesar and his companions as they instinctively stood up, scanning their surroundings in disbelief.
