We own the entire thirteenth floor of a certain skyscraper where prior to acquisition 2 suicides occured.

It was a wonderful and thoughtful gift from the governor that bought him another win during election season back then.

I arrive at about 3 am.

There is a special hidden place where we park our brooms and carpets and such. I park my newly enchanted vacuum cleaner there and enter the lobby.

The dwarf that works as the concierge is, in fact, a lesser imp we have subcontracted for security. I habitually bring him breakfast - rotten heads glazed in tar. For mortals it's just hamburgers and coffee.

I take the elevator. The button for the thirteenth is not present and you have to have a key that will open a compartment where such a button will be present.

When I arrive at the floor, I am greeted with the hazardous smell of burning herbs, countless jingles of talismans, cawing of familiars and literal hordes of enslaved ghosts running about on the errands.

There are only four witches in the general area with the ghosts. Each has two landmines in their hands and talking- no, yelling - into both at the same time.

They are junior witches who have newly joined the coven. I naturally know all their true names but I won't tell them here.

I stay in place for a few seconds and take in the delectable air of overworked desperation that seeps out from the subjugated ghosts and narrow in on the four witches.

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They look exhausted. Unlike me, they have mortal fleshy bodies, and those look like someone ran them in the washing machine.

Usually it is not as hectic, we don't accept many contracts, going for quality over quantity.

A little listening reveals that it's about preparations for the coming of Prince Lucifer; it got all the dark and unclean things here jittery so they all suddenly need a whole bunch of things prepared all of a sudden.

The arrival of That One was foretold dozens of years ago. They could prepare a little earlier than now. But oh well. The usual.

I leave the witches be and go to my office.

I see one sneakily conjures up a sandwitch as I walk past her. Internally, I cringe and make an internal note to tell them to transfer her somewhere else so that I will not have to see this trash when I walk towards my office next time.

Witches that use magic with such thoughtlessness are destined for Hell. I purge her name from my memory because she is not worth being remembered.

I enter my office and close the door to it.

I have no appointments for the next six hours so I spend this time surfing the Internet on the PC here.

The thoughts of that stupid witch keep crossing my mind. Who allowed that garbage into the coven?!

I check. It's Sabrina. Hmm.

Sabrina is a witch I personally trained back then. She is a good witch, the kind that will continue doing wicked deeds even after two thousand years in the future. She would not let such rubble here.

I think a bit harder and order a ghost to bring me the garbage's records from HR and Sabrina.

After reading them I realise that garbage-chan is caught up in a very hideous scheme by my lovely little junior.

You take your eyes off of them for a few short years and they grow to become evil traitourous backstabbing wenches. I am so proud.

My mood lifted, I go back to playing on the PC.