I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

Smallpox was an extremely contagious disease that could spread widely through the air—once one person became infected, everyone nearby would soon be affected as well.

The incubation period generally lasted from seven to twenty days.

It first manifested as dense rashes, which later developed into papules and finally pustules, accompanied by high fever and photophobia.

There were roughly three causes of death: toxemia, massive hemorrhage, or suffocation from pustules blocking the respiratory tract.

What had angered her earlier was exactly this—only when deaths began appearing in the third pustule stage did anyone think to report it.

In nearly a month’s time, as the largest harbor handling around forty percent of the Federation’s maritime transport, how many virus carriers had already slipped out?

Looking toward the nearby cat-girl secretary whose cat ears flattened nervously against her hair, Mitia’s stern expression softened slightly as she beckoned, “Go and summon Secretary-General Anna.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

The cat-girl secretary fled in relief, her high heels clacking rapidly on the floor as she nearly broke into a run.

Mitia shook her head at the sight.

She really didn’t know whether she had hired a cat-girl or a rabbit-girl—so timid.

Soon, Anna entered, pushing open the door, her bronze monocle glinting under the light.

Orders flowed from Mitia’s lips, and Anna recorded and relayed them.

Having grown up together as childhood companions, Anna’s transmission of Mitia’s directives carried far greater authority than any other administrative secretary’s.

First, the core governing staff were to work and reside separately to prevent the entire administration from being wiped out in a single smallpox outbreak.

Then, orders were sent down from state to city to township levels near Sendegas—everyone was to work from home.

Part of the army began taking over city operations.

Factories and schools were closed, residents were confined to their homes for a week-long preliminary quarantine, and essential supplies were distributed by the army.

At the same time, factories in the rear began producing saline in bulk, electrolyzing it into disinfectant solution, which was then loaded onto airships for large-scale aerial disinfection.

More detailed disinfection operations were carried out via land transport of the disinfectant to specific areas.

A special medical team composed of mages was dispatched by transport aircraft to Sendegas to extract the smallpox virus from the corpse and swiftly send it to cattle farms for cow infection.

Their magic could temporarily isolate a small area of airflow, effectively serving as portable medical quarantine units for Mitia’s plan.

Most of the populace had no idea what had happened or why martial law had been declared across the city—but soon, Mitia’s voice came through the radio.

She urged everyone to remain home and rest, assuring them that all essential goods would be distributed by the army.

She also informed them of the truth—an outbreak of smallpox.

Panic quickly spread among residents.

Smallpox was nothing new to this world—it had erupted many times throughout history.

Yet it had always been handled perfunctorily: either one survived by luck, or, if one died, they were buried hastily with a handful of quicklime.

But Mitia promised she would do everything in her power to save those infected.

The home isolation was to prevent secondary infections and irreversible loss.

The citizens largely obeyed their Empress’s decree—for she had never once broken a promise.

When Mitia announced that food distributions would be entirely free, most objections disappeared altogether.

The situation was temporarily stabilized.

Now came the long wait.

As Mitia had expected, most infections were concentrated around the Sendegas Port region and across several continents, including the Federal Capital Sera and the Industrial Continent of Astar.

All states where infection symptoms appeared were ordered to suspend every social activity; factories across the board halted production.

Entrepreneurs resisted—the losses would be enormous.

Massive orders would be delayed, and breach-of-contract penalties were frighteningly high.

But Mitia’s earlier countermeasures came into play—the unions organized workers’ strikes, resolutely enforcing the Empress’s orders.

The Chamber of Commerce also issued repeated warnings to disobedient small business owners: once a contagious disease of this scale spread fully, losing money would be the least of their concerns—their lives might not even be spared.

Moreover, once an epidemic struck, people would avoid work and consumption entirely.

Who would they sell their goods to? There was no sense in forcing themselves into an overproduction crisis.

As for companies that would suffer bankruptcy or insolvency due to breach-of-contract fines, compensation would later be subsidized jointly by the Chamber of Commerce and state governments to minimize losses.

Smallpox’s incubation could last up to twenty days, but in most cases, symptoms appeared after around seven.

Typical signs included fever, sore throat, chills, vomiting, and red rashes emerging across the body on the ninth day.

Once symptoms appeared, isolation zones were immediately established.

High-nutrition food supplies were distributed, along with nitrated ice to replenish nutrients and lower body temperature against the infection’s corrosion.

Those without symptoms after seven days were transferred to secondary observation areas for another week of quarantine.

During the isolation, Mitia continuously ordered cattle farms across the Federation to accelerate smallpox infection for vaccine production.

Some calves were directly injected and died from the infection—their bodies could then be used to produce cowpox vaccine for public inoculation.

The military had no objection to Mitia’s order for cowpox vaccination.

However, many soldiers who received early inoculations suffered severe complications, and some even died.

It dealt a heavy blow to the cowpox vaccination effort.

Deaths following inoculation made it appear that the vaccine was unsafe.

Nonetheless, vaccinations continued—the army needed immune soldiers at the frontlines to deliver supplies and maintain essential order.

Through military-wide vaccination reports, Mitia traced the cause of the problem.

The conclusion was that, with current technology, it was impossible to ensure sterile conditions during transport and storage of the cowpox material.

Improper handling allowed contamination by other viruses.

Alternatively, the cowpox strain’s virulence might be too weak to trigger human immune response.

Any of these factors could lead to vaccination failure.

This meant the soldiers had not died from cowpox itself—it was not fatal—but from other unknown viruses entering the body alongside smallpox, which needed to be guarded against.

It was a lesson for her—though books had taught her that cowpox could prevent smallpox, theory differed greatly from practice.

She could not apply it blindly.

Mitia’s solution was to use live infected cows directly—to extract pus on-site for vaccination.

Additionally, only cows that had exhibited cowpox symptoms for over seven days were allowed to be used as vaccine sources.

The first batch of live-cow vaccinations among the troops produced promising results, and plans were made to expand the program across other states to achieve herd immunity.

Yet, in regions where no smallpox infections had appeared, civilians were reluctant to let such a dreadful virus be inoculated into their bodies.

Smallpox was a name that inspired terror—merely imagining the virus being planted within oneself made one’s scalp tingle.

And with reports of vaccine-related deaths...

“I’m perfectly healthy—why should I inject something like that into myself and suffer?”

Moreover, a new rumor had spread through the market: a supposed “humanpox” vaccine.

It sounded far more credible than the official cowpox one~

Mitia’s response was simple—forced vaccination was unacceptable.

“If you are afraid,” she declared, “then I shall take it first!”

It was the duty of an Empress.