I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

The noisy parliament hall, with arguing councilors even resorting to fists, made Mitia feel as if she were watching a comedy film.

Mitia even saw Graf being grabbed by the beard he was so proud of, when a dwarf jumped up and tugged at it, making his whole face twist in pain.

The uproar continued until late evening, when Mitia hosted a grand banquet.

The ministers who had been brawling in the afternoon session now had their arms slung around each other’s shoulders, chatting and laughing together as if nothing had happened.

But very soon, they would no longer be able to laugh.

The maids lined up in neat formation, holding trays in their hands, weaving among the dining tables.

As the lids were lifted from the trays, a round and shiny steamed ‘potato’ appeared before everyone’s eyes.

Mitia said aloud: “Everyone, dinner is on me!”

The crowd exchanged glances, unsure what trick the Empress was up to, but went along anyway, picking up knives and forks and beginning to cut.

“How does everyone find it?”

Mitia’s violet eyes swept with interest over those present, observing carefully every expression and reaction.

Seated at the main table, Graf swallowed the mashed potato in his mouth and said directly to Mitia: “Bitter and astringent.”

Anna chimed in at the right time: “Your Majesty, during times of famine, the villagers ate worse than this.”

Among the farmer representatives in the distance, an elder smiled and said: “Even in years of abundance, compared to the rations we usually eat, this potato tastes fairly decent.”

“At the very least, it has no pebbles, husks, or dirt in it...”

The Speaker cut off a piece and put it in his mouth.

He chewed, his face stiffening, then tried to swallow it quickly with a few more chews.

“Pfft!”

“Cough, cough, cough...”

A maid rushed forward to pat the Speaker’s chest and back, helping him catch his breath.

Mitia, who had been smiling all along, turned her head at this scene, her eyes narrowing, her gentle aura suddenly turning dangerous.

Having just recovered from choking, Golitsyn found himself fixed under Mitia’s sharp gaze, and he slid from his chair onto his knees:

“Your servant... your servant is guilty!”

“Prime Minister Golitsyn, your household has the finest chefs in the Kingdom of Ovinia. Your dinners are always sumptuous—this is your due.”

As he listened, Golitsyn’s face grew paler and paler, his body trembling slightly beyond his control.

“You should be the one who understands most the hardships of the people at the bottom. Am I right, Golitsyn?”

‘Yes, Your Majesty, I...’

“From this moment on, for the rest of this year, you are only allowed to eat vegetarian meals.”

After leaving behind this sentence, Mitia rose and walked out of the banquet hall, leaving the ministers staring at one another.

Many couldn’t help but shake their heads as they looked at the kneeling Golitsyn.

Sherria floated to Mitia’s side and advised: “Don’t be angry...”

Mitia walked to the shooting range, took a musket from a soldier’s hand, and began firing at the target.

“Eight years ago, Prime Minister Golitsyn was a tenant farmer under a manor. Three generations of his family had been tenant farmers. Later, after the Astal Family was liberated, he joined the army. He was fierce in battle abroad, and swift and efficient in cleansing nobles at home.”

‘He was later transferred to the logistics department, then to the staff department... and eventually shifted into government work. Until now, he was officially elected and appointed as the first Federal Prime Minister.”

Anna quietly recited Golitsyn’s career history.

In just eight years, from soldier to politician, he had risen all the way to Speaker and Prime Minister.

His whole life seemed as if it had been blessed with cheats.

But eight years only—from a tenant farmer who couldn’t fill his stomach, to someone who now found potatoes hard to swallow.

How many years had it been since he had truly eaten his fill?

That was why many in the banquet hall shook their heads at him.

They knew all too well why Mitia had been angered.

To be born humble was not a disgrace.

But the ones who fell into corruption the fastest were often these very people.

When powerless, they were kind; when in power, they often turned wicked.

Recalling the inspection reports once submitted by the Intelligence Department, Mitia could only half laugh, half sigh.

Her features were delicate yet carried an aggressive sharpness.

When she didn’t smile, she seemed hard to approach.

So, even when nothing was amiss, she usually kept a slight smile on her face to soften that feeling.

After all, a ruler ought to have some approachability—it could even confuse the enemy a little.

Mitia closed her eyes slightly to aim, pulled the trigger, and the bullet missed the target, flying off who knows where.

She sighed and said:

“Anna, go.”

Anna did not reply, but nodded and withdrew.

After so many years together, she already understood most of Mitia’s thoughts.

Walking along the corridor, Anna sighed inwardly.

She wondered whether Golitsyn could pass this round of secret officer investigation.

The next day, the meeting continued as usual.

Everyone kept silent about what had happened at the banquet the night before, and the Prime Minister was much quieter, hardly joining in the discussions.

Mitia herself was not present.

Instead, she had disguised herself with makeup and went out to inspect the capital.

This city, rebuilt upon the ruins of the former Hendak Territory, was full of construction sites.

Outside the city, countless trucks carried sand, gravel, and steel bars back and forth without pause.

Along the streets inside the city were trenches, where sewer systems would be buried, after which the surface would be repaved with cement and fitted with an urban rail transit system.

This was the first new city of Seris in the truest sense after industrialization.

With more than a dozen disguised bodyguards accompanying her, she wandered aimlessly.

Mitia’s eyes were drawn to a cat-girl on the street.

But it wasn’t entirely because of the cat-girl—more because of the orange cat in her arms.

Come to think of it, ever since arriving in this world, she had never thought of keeping a pet to amuse herself.

But it was natural, she supposed—people could barely feed themselves these days.

If one encountered a beast, wasn’t it just fresh meat? How could she ever have thought of pets...

“Hey! Kitty sister, wait a moment!”

The cat-girl turned and saw Mitia calling out to her.

She tightened her arms around the cat, her vertical pupils glaring warily: “This isn’t food, this is my good friend. I’m not selling it!”

From that, Mitia could tell someone had already asked her if it was a reserve meal.

She quickly explained:

“No! I don’t want to eat it. I just wanted to keep a cute little one too, so I wanted to ask where I might buy one?”

The cat-girl shook her head and explained: “There probably isn’t anywhere to buy them. These little cuties are all brought out from the forest by us. In the past, when food was scarce, we didn’t even have many ourselves.”

If not for the stable and abundant food supply in Seris, they wouldn’t dare bring these little creatures out so casually—if one were caught and stewed, they could only cry in vain.

“Then forget it. May I hold it?”

With permission, Mitia moved closer and looked at the orange cat.

It looked back at her curiously, its nose twitching slightly.

Mitia slowly stretched out her hand, finally giving its furry head a gentle pat.

Seeing it didn’t resist, she slid her hand down to scratch its chin.

It immediately closed its eyes in bliss.

The cat-girl looked at Mitia in surprise.

She hadn’t expected the other to gain the cat’s trust so easily.

By now, Mitia had already scooped it into her arms, cuddling it for a while before reluctantly returning it.

“Actually... I do have a few kittens. If you want, I could give you one.”

Seeing Mitia about to leave, the cat-girl hesitated a moment before calling out.

She then added: “But kittens don’t have meat on them, and they eat a lot.”

Cats often had multiple kittens in a litter.

With her income, raising them all would be difficult.

And judging by Mitia’s fine clothes, she was clearly wealthy.

Mitia, who had been thinking of ordering her men to find her a couple later, was delighted: “Really? It doesn’t matter if they eat a lot, that’s nothing.”

Mitia waited in the street for a while until the cat-girl sneakily returned, producing a kitten from under her large clothes.

The little kitten immediately won Mitia’s heart with its looks—its ears, tail, nose, and paw pads were orange, while its body was mostly white with a hint of yellow.

The cat-girl looked at it with reluctance, but finally handed it over: “Little White is the last of the litter, always unable to get enough milk. I fear it won’t survive...”

Lifting it into the air, Mitia smiled: “That’s fine. In my house it’ll be the only little one—it can eat as much as it likes!”

As the cat-girl turned to leave, Mitia called after her and tossed her a gold coin before departing.