Miss Witch, even if we're poor, we can't sell ourselves!

Reminal was still busy explaining.

Meanwhile, Miya took advantage of the chaos to begin her escape plan.

The main gate is no good; there are three circles of witches surrounding it.

The short-haired man in the suit was blocking Reminal's way, demanding an explanation; the man with pigtails was still recording a video; and the man playing the piano had already pulled out a communicator and was apparently contacting someone.

Reminal was surrounded so tightly that she couldn't hear a thing.

Miya slid silently off the bar stool, crouched down, and moved deeper into the hall under the cover of the bar counter.

Fortunately, she was short, so she could run around freely in the blind spots of all the tall witches without anyone bothering her.

There is a corridor next to the stage, and at the end of the corridor you can vaguely see a door and a staircase leading upwards.

If she can't get out through the front door, she can go upstairs. There must be a window on the second floor, so she can jump out and escape.

As she slipped into the corridor, she glanced back and saw Reminal trying to explain something to Zimilu, her hands moving in a blur, completely oblivious to the fact that the person beside her was no longer there.

Without hesitation, Miya turned and ran up the stairs.

The second floor is much quieter than the first floor.

The corridor was long, with rows of closed doors on both sides, each with a number on a sign, suggesting a private room or lounge.

The lights were bright yet soft, creating a world apart from the noise downstairs.

Mi Ye's little leather shoes trod on the dark solid wood floor, each step taken with extra care.

She held her breath, frantically calculating the distance in her mind.

The end of this corridor should be the back of the bar building, where there should be windows that allow you to jump directly onto the street outside.

Just then, she passed by a door.

The door was ajar, and light was coming from inside, along with a slight rustling sound.

Miya swears that she really just wanted to peek inside to see if anyone was there, and then keep running once she confirmed that no one was there. That's the most basic rule of stealth, right?

So she tiptoed to the door and peeked through the crack.

Her pupils suddenly dilated.

Two witches.

Well, to be precise, two naked witches.

Naked, they rolled together on the sofa in the room, one silver-haired on top of the other red-haired, both with flushed faces, entangled in a position that even someone who had never been in love in two lifetimes could immediately recognize what they were doing.

WDF?!

Miya was startled and bounced back a meter, her back hitting the wall across the corridor with a dull thud.

Then she turned and ran, forgetting all about stealth, quietness, and avoiding detection.

The leather shoes stomped on the solid wood floor with a series of earth-shattering thuds, the hem of the sailor uniform fluttered up and down, and the scarf behind her neck waved like a white flag of surrender.

The noise downstairs paused briefly because of her footsteps, but she didn't notice at all.

All she knew was that she had seen something she shouldn't have, and that the silver-haired witch seemed to have turned her head the moment she screamed, and saw the terrified light-colored eyes through the crack in the door.

Run run run run run—

Then she bumped headfirst into something soft.

It had a soft, bouncy texture and a warm fragrance.

Then, one hand firmly supported her shoulder, while the other hand naturally wrapped around her back to prevent her from falling due to the impact.

Miya's brain was still in a daze. She subconsciously looked up and saw a face.

She was an incredibly beautiful witch.

Her skin was a pale white, her features were striking and flamboyant, her eyes were upturned at the corners, and her pupils were a deep purple, almost black in the dim light of the corridor, but with a hint of dark red flowing in the depths.

Her lips were painted with burgundy lip gloss, and the corners of her mouth were naturally slightly upturned, as if she were smiling, or as if she were plotting something interesting.

Her long, jet-black hair fell to her waist, with the ends slightly curled.

She wore a wine-red long dress with a fishtail hem that tightly hugged her slender legs, but the top was slit so low that Mi Ye dared not look at her a second time.

"oops."

The voice was very soft and gentle, like a cat that had just woken up.

She looked down at the little one who had bumped into her arms, and her smile deepened.

"Little sister, what are you doing?"

Miya opened her mouth, but found that she couldn't make a sound. Her face turned so red that it could fry an egg, and the tips of her ears looked like they had been burned.

"Speak up, did the cat bite your tongue?"

The witch reached out and gently touched the top of Miya's head with her slender fingers.

The movements were gentle, but Miya felt as if a leopard was pressing its paws against her head.

"I...I...I was just passing by!"

"Um?"

The witch let out a low laugh, her fingers sliding from the top of her head to her cheek, gently pinching her soft cheeks.

"Really? What are you doing here at Nightingale's Nest?"

"No! I am, I am—"

Miya's voice trailed off, because she realized she couldn't explain why she was there.

Without waiting for her explanation, the witch straightened up and gently lifted Miya up with one hand, like lifting a kitten by the scruff of its neck. Her fingers hooked around the back of Miya's collar, raising her into the air.

Miya's feet left the ground, her leather shoes kicked twice in the air, and the hem of her sailor uniform hung pitifully.

"Never mind, let's go downstairs. There's a huge commotion downstairs, it seems to involve a little kid, it must be you, right?"

Miya's face turned pale instantly, and she lowered her head, not daring to look at the witch above her again.

The witch carried her down the stairs, her high heels clicking softly on the wooden steps.

Miya was lifted into the air, her hands gripping her collar tightly to avoid being strangled, her two little leather shoes dangling helplessly in the air.

The area downstairs remained in chaos.

Reminal's voice was completely hoarse, her dress was creased in several places, her silver rose brooch was askew, and her long pink hair was a little messy from being rubbed.

The number of witches surrounding her did not decrease; in fact, it increased.

The short-haired, suit-wearing witch had already turned on her communicator and was talking to someone who appeared to be a reporter.

The half-blood witch pulled out a notebook from somewhere and quickly scribbled something down.

The girl with pink hair in pigtails stood on the table, the crystal screen was raised high, the camera was steadily pointed at the center of the crowd, and she was giving a live commentary.

"What you are seeing now is the breaking news from Nightingale's Nest tonight. The eldest daughter of the Reminal family is suspected of being involved in a human trafficking scandal. The victim is a girl in a sailor uniform—"

Zimi Lu stood behind the bar, having completely given up on maintaining order. She was slowly sipping a blue cocktail, her expression saying, "Tonight's revenue is definitely gone, but it doesn't matter, this show was worth it."

The sound of high heels stepping on the last step wasn't loud, but the witch carrying Miya cleared her throat and coughed softly.

Then the entire room fell silent.

Everyone looked towards the stairwell and spotted the witch carrying a little girl in a sailor uniform and wearing a burgundy fishtail dress.

"I'm telling you, our business hours aren't over yet, and you've blocked the entrance like this, so our customers can't get in."