The Ruby Ring

I went inside my workshop and opened access to the database it's asking me database changed. Please enter the client password: ********

I entered the database, and it showed that the ruby placed on the ring has the control of it.So I placed the ring on that system then it showed scrapper missing 

Saito considered himself a perfectly normal office worker.
Well, as normal as someone who once crashed the company database with a single DELETE FROM clients; statement could be.

At least no one had caught him—he cleverly followed it up with a ROLLBACK; and pretended nothing happened.
SQL was his best friend, his worst enemy, and probably the reason his boss was losing hair.

Today was supposed to be normal too. Reports, coffee, endless meetings where managers said “Let’s circle back” like it was a magic spell.

Then Amane walked over.

“Senpaaai,” she sang, sliding her chair next to his desk. His cheerful kohai, the only reason he hadn’t rage-quit the company yet.

“Yes, Amane?” he muttered, not looking up from his screen. He was currently debugging a query that returned 3 million rows instead of 12.

“Why do you look like you’re about to DROP TABLE life;?”

Saito sighed. “Because I am.”

Amane leaned closer, resting her hand on his arm. “Cheer up, Senpai. You’re not an INT(3) — you have unlimited potential!”

Before he could groan at her database pun, something strange happened.

His pocket warmed. No—glowed. He froze and fished out a small ruby ring he didn’t remember owning.

The ring pulsed with a crimson light, brighter with every second her hand touched him.

“…What the SELECT is this?” Saito muttered.

Amane tilted her head innocently. “Oh, that’s new. Did you just INSERT ring INTO pocket; when I wasn’t looking?”

“I never had this!” He shook it like it might stop glowing. It only burned hotter.

Coworkers were starting to stare. Saito quickly shoved the ring back into his pocket.

“Senpai,” Amane whispered, eyes glinting with a knowing sparkle, “I think it likes me.”

“This isn’t Tinder, it’s a cursed object!”

She grinned. “Maybe it’s just trying to JOIN us together.”

Saito facepalmed. “Please stop before HR files a complaint.”

But no matter how he tried to ignore it, the ring’s glow didn’t fade.
It pulsed in rhythm with Amane’s touch—like a heartbeat, or a query running on infinite loop without an EXIT.

Finally, Saito pulled her hand off him. The ring dimmed immediately.

He exhaled in relief. “Okay. Crisis averted.”

But Amane just smiled, far too calmly for someone who’d witnessed jewelry attempt to melt her senpai.

She leaned close and whispered, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

Saito blinked. “Remember what?!”

Her smile widened. “Nothing. Just… NULL values in your brain.”

Before he could demand an explanation, their boss stomped into the office, red-faced and furious.

“WHO RAN UPDATE salaries SET bonus = 1000000; ?!”

Everyone pointed at Saito.

“WHAT?! I was debugging!” he yelped.

Amane covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Looks like your life just got an OUTER JOIN with debt, Senpai.”

“AMANE—!”