Inside the hospital ward.
Just as Ruboo was revelling in Zoe's devoted care, a sudden exclamation rang out:
"Such pure love! It reminds me of my own youth."
Ruboo and Zoe startled, turning towards the voice. Unnoticed, a woman with orange hair had taken a seat in the ward. She wore a shawl-collared dress, lace-trimmed gloves, and the air of a lady of means.
"Who might you be?" Zoe rose to her feet, addressing the stranger politely.
"Me? I'm of the same kind as you, Zoe. You may call me Myrtle." The woman named Myrtle removed her sunglasses and introduced herself with a smile.
"Kindred?" Zoe exclaimed, recalling her mother's earlier words. "You... are a witch?"
"My dear, you ought to be asking, 'Are you a witch too?' For now, you are one of us."
Myrtle rose and approached, gently caressing Zoe's cheek as if admiring a beautiful painting, making the girl feel quite uncomfortable.
"Upon receiving your mother's letter, I came at once. Fewer and fewer girls awaken to the Salem bloodline these days. Each discovery is momentous news for the Council."
"Zoe, are you ready? To journey to New Orleans, to join your true home."
Hearing this, Zoe glanced first at Ruboo, who had remained quiet since Murtagh's arrival, then turned to face Murtagh and shook her head. "No! I don't want to go to New Orleans. I want to stay here!"
Myrtle's smile faded slightly as she sighed softly. "My dear, this is not a matter of your wishes. The Council has a duty to protect the safety of every witch.Though we're not in the Middle Ages, persecution of witches persists in the outside world. Just days ago, a girl who awakened her witchcraft like you was branded a devil by ignorant mobs and burned alive. Zoe, you wouldn't wish that fate upon yourself, would you? Besides..."
At this point, Muriel suddenly turned to Ruboo on the hospital bed, surprise flitting across her face. "Not everyone is as fortunate as your little boyfriend to crawl back from the underworld. Zoe, you must learn to control your power. Am I right, Ruboo?"
"Yes... yes." Facing the genuine gaze of a witch, Ruboo, who had previously willingly played the role of background wall, managed a strained smile.
He had recognised her the moment he saw her.
After all, her attire was rather conspicuous.
It was precisely because he recognised her identity that Ruboo had remained quietly in the background, playing the handsome gentleman.
With his scrawny frame, he had no desire to get tangled up in the squabbles of a bunch of witches with issues.
While Zoe's reluctance to attend the witch academy for his sake had touched him, he'd rather that sentiment had never existed.
Especially now, under Merle's gaze—that dissecting, corpse-like stare brimming with curiosity.
"I'm well aware of the witchcraft abilities of the Bensen family. Historically, there's never been a case of one surviving after being harmed. I must say, Ruboo, you've given me quite the surprise," Murtle said to Ruboo with a smile.
Ruboo's face twitched uncomfortably. "Should I say I'm honoured?"
"Certainly. Surviving a fatal situation, Ruboo, your vitality is commendable. Had I not discovered the witch's blood within you, I might have mistaken you for an unawakened male witch. But you are, after all, different from ordinary people."
Myrtle shot Ruboo a meaningful glance before turning to Zoe. "Darling, I know you're reluctant to part with your little boyfriend. Here's the arrangement: Spalding, the boarding school's butler, is getting on in years and needs a successor. Since your boyfriend now knows witches exist and possesses certain unique qualities, let him accompany you to New Orleans."
Zoe's face lit up. As long as she didn't have to part with her boyfriend, this outcome was perfectly acceptable.
Her heart fluttered as she immediately looked towards Ruboo.
Ruboo felt a chill run down his spine.
Living with a bunch of witches? And serving as a male servant?
NO!!!
Ruboo shook his head. "I'm not going!"
He looked at Zoe, her face etched with disappointment, and declared with feigned sincerity, "Zoe, Mrs. Murter is right. As a witch, you must seek out your kind. It's not only for your own safety, but also to better embrace your identity as a witch. You can always return after graduating from school. Rest assured! I'll wait for you forever!"
Though this outcome likely meant Zoe would find new love elsewhere, Ruboo was willing to let her go for the sake of his own life.
Q: How to avoid danger in a world where you know the plot.
Answer: Keep well clear of the protagonist, naturally.
Ruboo was ready to slip back to China.
With his fluent English, he could easily find a decent job there.
"Ruboo!!"
At the same time, hearing Ruboo speak thus, Zoe's disappointment instantly transformed into deep emotion.
Just as she prepared to throw herself at him once more to express her affection, Merte interrupted from the side: "Mr Ruboo, I'm not seeking your opinion here. For the Council, to protect the safety of witches, outsiders are not permitted to know of our existence."
Ruboo's heart tightened, forcing a smile. "Witches surely brew potions, don't they? Is there one that makes people forget things? I'd gladly drink a cup."
"Certainly. Though it would also turn the drinker's brain into mush."
"In that case, I'll pass."
Not wanting to end up babbling like a fool in the afterlife, Ruboo shook his head immediately.
"Is there truly no room for negotiation?"
"There is. One: you come with us willingly. Two..."
Mertel clapped his hands. The next moment, two burly men in black suits and dark sunglasses strode in.
"Let them escort you out."
Mertel's words effectively sealed off every possible escape route for Ruboo.
Glancing at the burly men whose arms were thicker than his own thighs, Ruboo sighed. Accepting reality with a measure of rationality, he relinquished resistance:
"I suppose I'll go willingly."
"Darling, I've given it serious thought and still can't quite bring myself to let you go alone to an unfamiliar city. For the time being, allow me to stay by your side."
"My dear Ruboo..."
...
Clatter~ Clatter~
The train bound for New Orleans rumbled along.
In any world, American trains are a tale to tell.
Ruboo, jostled relentlessly along the journey, felt no drowsiness.
Zoe, accustomed to all this, rested her head on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep with a sweet smile on her face.
Ruboo steadied his girlfriend, who was nearly slipping off his shoulder, then glanced at Muriel and the men in suits seated on the other side of the aisle before closing his own eyes.
Not that he was resting his eyes.
Instead, within his mind, he gazed upon a book that should not have been there.
From the moment he had broken free of his shackles and spoken to Zoe and her mother, the image of a book had surfaced in his mind.
Over time, what had begun as mere sketches had gradually solidified into substance.
And now, just moments after closing his eyes, the final stroke had been drawn.
"What is this..."
Gazing at the fully formed appearance of the book within his mind, Ruboo's face was etched with astonishment.