After seeing Milo busy in the kitchen, Julian decided to call Karl and the others. He first went to his room, feeling a bit helpless. Recently, Karl had been talking to him less and spending more time in his own room. This change in behavior made Julian feel uneasy and worried.
"Brother Karl..." Julian called out softly, stepping into his room. He found Karl lying face down on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, his body still and lifeless.
"Are you feeling sick again?" Julian asked, his voice full of concern. "Last night, you spent so much time in the bathroom... Maybe you’ve got food poisoning again. Oh, God, Madame Shades is such a heartless witch. She actually gave you expired cookies. And you’re acting like an expired ghost yourself..."
Julian’s anger flared up as he thought about how Madame Shades had given them those awful cookies. He couldn’t believe she’d be so heartless.
"Excuse me?" Karl stiffened, his back straightening at Julian’s words. When he heard himself being compared to an "expired ghost," his anger ignited. "From which angle do I look like an expired ghost?" he snapped, glaring at Julian.
Julian, unfazed, took a moment to look him over, his eyes scanning Karl from head to toe.
"Stop checking me out, Julian. I’m fine," Karl mumbled, giving Julian a side-eye.
Julian sat down next to him, his concern still evident. "Brother Karl, why are you spending all day on your bed? You might get sick again. And Brother Adrian is the same... you both are acting weird."
Karl sat up, crossing his legs. He bit his lip, silently thinking about everything that had been bothering him.
"I’m not acting weird," Karl said with a sour expression, clearly frustrated.
Julian gave him a gentle smile, not pushing him further. "It’s alright, I won’t say more... but lunch is ready."
Karl nodded, his gaze softening a little.
At the government office, the worker witch looked up, a spark of hope in her eyes. "She came to help with my PIC card," she said. "I think her name is Ruby. When my computer faced a problem, she actually fixed it with a simple solution. I think she might be able to help us."
The old witch’s eyes lit up at the mention of Ruby. "Really? Do you have her address or any other details about her?" she asked eagerly, her voice filled with hope.
The worker witch hesitated, then nodded. "I think I have all the data in my computer, but..." she paused, her face falling, "my computer data might have also been wiped out when the main connected database crashed. However, I believe I still have her form."
The old witch’s expression grew even more intense, the thought of finding Ruby now more crucial than ever. "Get me that form," she said urgently.
The worker witch hurried over to her desk, her footsteps quick and hurried. She opened the drawer with a loud creak, revealing a chaotic stack of forms scattered inside. Papers of various sizes, some folded, some crumpled, were piled up, and she quickly began sifting through them. Her fingers flipped through the thick pile, searching for the right one. But despite her best efforts, the process was slow, and she could feel the tension mounting.
Seeing her struggle, the old witch leaned forward from where she stood, a sharp idea crossing her mind. "Why don’t you give each of us a stack?" she suggested, her voice calm but authoritative. "We can help you find the form faster."
The worker witch nodded gratefully, quickly gathering a few smaller stacks of forms. She handed one to each of the other witches standing nearby. "Here," she said, "let’s all look through these. Hopefully, Ruby’s form is somewhere in here."
As the group began sorting through the papers, the room filled with the sound of rustling parchment. Each witch focused intently, flipping through the forms.
The worker witch then hurriedly shuffled through the papers, her hands trembling with urgency. She pulled out another stack after stack, flipping through them with mounting frustration, but she couldn’t find Ruby’s form. It wasn’t there. No matter how many times she went through the piles, Ruby’s name didn’t appear.
"I... I can’t find it," the worker witch mumbled, her voice tinged with panic. Her fingers were sore from sifting through the endless forms, but no matter what she did, the form she needed remained elusive.
The old witch, who had been watching silently, frowned. "What do you mean you can’t find it? It should be here!" She approached the worker witch’s desk, her hands gripping the edge as she peered at the scattered papers. But, after a quick scan, it became clear—there was no sign of Ruby’s form in any of the piles.
The worker witch looked up, her face pale. "I’m sorry, I... I’ve looked through everything. It’s not here."
The room fell into a tense silence as everyone absorbed the weight of the situation. Ruby’s form was nowhere to be found, and without it, they were stuck.
The old witch’s gaze darkened, her frustration mounting. "This can’t be happening..." she muttered under her breath, her mind racing for another solution.
"Is this the form?" A voice came from the back, a short witch with black eyes holding up a sheet of paper. The worker witch quickly reached for it and scanned the form.
"Yes! This is Ruby’s form," she exclaimed with relief, the name and address clearly printed at the top.
"Found it!" she called out, handing it to the old witch.
The old witch took the form with a deep sigh of relief. She quickly glanced at the address, her eyes lighting up with urgency.
"Quickly, invite Miss Ruby!" she ordered, her tone sharp as she turned to the others.
"Be quick," she said again, her eyes fixed on the form, a look of hope in her gaze.
"Ma’am, don’t worry, we will invite her ourselves," Worker witch assured, her tone confident.
The short witch beside her nodded in agreement. "Yes, leave it to us. We’ll bring Miss Ruby here in no time," she added, already preparing to head out.
The old witch sighed in relief, clutching the form tightly for a moment before handing it over. "Make sure she understands how urgent this is. We need her help desperately."
The two witches nodded firmly and hurried off.
—To be continued...🪄