At midday, the witches' afternoon meeting was underway.
Having packed his belongings and tidied the room, Ruboo made his way into the kitchen to offer his assistance to Spalding, who was busy baking. Yet he was met with a cold refusal.
Without outsiders present, it was clear that this long-serving butler to the witch's family harboured considerable hostility towards Ruboo's arrival.
Evidently, he had no desire to see his position usurped.
Why didn't you produce an heir yourself, you disgusting doll-obsessed pervert?
Watching Spalding prepare the food on his own, Ruboo shrugged, unable to get involved, thinking to herself.
Well, so be it.
As if he'd willingly wait on people!
Since someone was willing to shoulder all the work, Ruboo felt perfectly justified in taking it easy.
Seeing Ruboo idly playing with his phone nearby, Spalding forced a stiff smile. After finishing the pastry in his hands, he carried the tray to the main hall without a second thought.
Ruboo glanced at him but paid him no mind, continuing to scroll through his phone.
He hadn't forgotten his ten-day quota for containing paranormal entities.
To that end, he'd deliberately searched his phone for urban legends and horror tales about New Orleans, hoping to find some clues.
After all, his only real impression of New Orleans was its famous barbecue wings.
As one of America's famed ghost towns, New Orleans did indeed harbour numerous notorious urban legends.
Among them, the most notorious was undoubtedly the Voodoo Queen, Marie Laveau.
This legendary voodoo queen, said to possess immense power, now lies buried in the First Cemetery of Lafayette. Rumour has it that drawing three Xs on her grave grants one the blessing of witchcraft.
Of course, that's utter nonsense.
Ruboo knows full well that the so-called Voodoo Queen is still alive and kicking, currently running a hair salon in the Lower Ninth Ward.
Ruboo wouldn't dare cross witches these days, let alone a voodoo queen who's been battling them for years.
So this target was a definite no-go.
However, online accounts suggest Lafayette Cemetery harbours numerous ghostly tales, with rumours even of vampire sightings – making it a viable alternative target.
Moreover, New Orleans harbours other urban legends.
Take, for instance, the haunted house of Madame LaLaurie, or the jazz-loving Axe Murderer whose true culprit remains undiscovered to this day.
The former's original owner remains alive under a curse, watched over by the Supreme Witch, making it unwise for Ruboo to meddle.
As for the latter, the perpetrator had long been disposed of by the senior witches, yet his malevolent spirit still haunts the residence.
However, this spirit is exceptionally elusive, remaining undetected even by the witches over the years.
Ruboo had no idea how to track down the other party.
If all else failed, he could always have his adorable girlfriend conjure him up.
Of course, with a coven of witches present, the explanations and logistics would be rather troublesome. Coupled with the axe-wielding killer's rather unnerving prowess, it was best to keep that as a last resort.
Ruboo glanced over the other urban legends.
The long-standing swamp monster, the haunted hotel restaurant, various vampire legends, and so forth.
After mapping out his exploration route through New Orleans, a peckish Ruboo grabbed a sandwich from the fridge to stave off hunger before turning his thoughts to the most crucial question.
How to eliminate these supernatural entities.
Crosses, Bibles, holy water.
Though not religious himself, he figured it wouldn't hurt to prepare these props that frequently appeared in films.
After all, they cost nothing. One need only visit a nearby church, declare one's intention to convert, and these items would be freely provided, along with a decent church lunch.
Additionally, American-style iaido was indispensable.
When confronting physical supernatural entities, bullets still pack a punch.
Of course, most crucially, Ruboo needed an assistant.
No amount of preparation could conceal the fact that he was a novice who had never even killed a chicken.
When confronting supernatural entities, having a powerful supernatural ally by one's side is undoubtedly the best safeguard.
Fortunately, he already had a coven of witches at his disposal.
Given his connections, coupled with the events about to unfold, he could well find a capable ally.
At this thought, Ruboo's eyes lit up, and he began making preparations.
...
Afternoon.
Cordelia imparted wizardry knowledge to the young witches, while Spalding returned to his attic, donned adult-sized children's clothing, and assumed the role of a doll.
Truly without work to do, Ruboo pocketed the few hundred dollars he possessed, stepped out of the residence, and followed the route marked on his mobile phone's map to the nearest firearms shop.
Since the great hurricane of years past, New Orleans's public safety had steadily deteriorated. Compounded by the city's predominantly African American population—among the highest in the United States—it had earned the grim moniker "Murder Capital."
Just as if every child were armed with a firearm, there would be no school shootings.
Poor policing has led to an abundance of firearms among New Orleans residents.
Conversely, firearms retailers are thriving.
When Ruboo entered one such establishment, he witnessed the proprietor promoting a newly arrived children's rifle to a father and son—or more precisely, to the son, who appeared to be of primary school age.
Having assimilated his original memories, Ruboo had long since grown accustomed to such bizarre phenomena.
To put it bluntly, how many genders do you think exist in America?
From what Ruboo had seen online alone: male; female; women who identify as male; men who identify as female; those who underwent gender reassignment surgery but later reverted; those who identify as either male or female and can switch at will; those who don't consider themselves male or female but belong to a special category, such as Walmart shopping bags; armed helicopters...
Counting them all, there are at least a hundred categories, detailed enough to make your jaw drop.
Ruboo shook his head, dismissing these vexing matters, and instead turned his gaze to the dazzling array of long and short firearms on the gun rack.
Pistols, rifles, shotguns, sniper rifles, and general-purpose machine guns – you name it, we've got it.
While most are civilian simplified versions, with a bit of private expenditure or DIY modification, you can fully upgrade these simplified models.
Moreover, purchasing firearms is remarkably straightforward—simply present the requisite licensing documentation.
Many shops would sell you a gun even without the proper documentation.
This was particularly pronounced in New Orleans.
Ruboo had previously obtained a firearms licence, so he needn't concern himself with such formalities.
Constrained by funds and the impact of going out, though he yearned for those firepower-rich rifles and even machine guns, Ruboo sensibly focused his attention on handguns.
After careful consideration, he selected the Glock 17 pistol, one of the most popular handguns on the American market.
Chambered in 9mm, it is a medium-sized pistol capable of holding 17 rounds.
Its simplicity, reliability, accuracy, punchy recoil, robust build, and affordable price made it the go-to choice for many.
As for why he didn't opt for larger-calibre pistols like the Desert Eagle, capable of taking down an elephant with a single shot?
Putting price aside,
With his arms, he'd likely break his own wrist before taking down the enemy.
So, back to practicality.
After a fierce haggling session with the shopkeeper, Ruboo spent nearly all his savings to purchase a Glock 17 pistol and six magazines.
Using the training range at the rear of the gun shop, Ruboo emptied two magazines. Only after regaining his original gun handling skills did he slip the pistol into the holster provided by the owner, fastening it to his waist before heading towards a nearby church.
He entered with an expression of "devout piety" and did not emerge until a full hour later.
Having endured such an extended period of spiritual cleansing, the rewards proved quite substantial.
Clutching the cross blessed by the priest himself, along with the Bible and holy water, Ruboo felt considerably more at ease, though he remained uncertain of their true efficacy. He set off back towards the Witches' Academy.
Next came the most crucial ally.