I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

“Don’t panic! Don’t throw yourselves into chaos! Report the situation to Sir first, don’t delay things—hurry!”

While the flames in the carriage had yet to be extinguished, a large volume of transmissions spread out from Ankargas State in all directions. At that time, Mitia was still in her office, looking over the construction progress of each state.

Anna knocked on her office door and briefly explained the accident that had occurred not long ago. Mitia lightly nodded to indicate that she knew, and there was no further response.

These sudden incidents all had corresponding departments responsible for handling them. Generally speaking, they would not appear before her at all; only after the incident concluded would a detailed report be submitted to her.

After all, the entire Alliance had more than sixty states. The number of people who could even be considered high-ranking cadres already added up to nearly ten thousand. How could she possibly pay attention to all of them?

However, a week after the matter had passed, Anna brought her a special piece of news. That was the preliminary list of members of the Joint Investigation Team that had been established, as well as the final confirmed list that had been submitted—out of the twenty members, ten had been replaced!

Members of the Joint Investigation Team were not just anyone who could take the position. Aside from the basic requirement of a clean personal background, their lineage would be traced back three generations, within the five degrees of kinship.

The requirement Mitia had given was rather confusing: it demanded that no five degrees of kinship could be traced, and only those whose family extended no more than three generations were considered qualified.

The reason she gave was also simple and blunt. Under the previous living conditions, common folk who could scrape together three generations were either tenant farmers or bonded laborers, or else their ancestors had been tainted by something or other.

The former had a high probability of servility etched deep into their bones, while the latter were the textbook case of having an unclean family background.

Under such harsh conditions, even though the Seris Alliance had a total population nearing one hundred million, there were actually not many who could be screened out as qualified.

Therefore, those selected in the initial screening were basically the most suitable batch available at present. For such a list to still be altered naturally caught the attention of Anna, who concurrently oversaw internal affairs.

According to the information she investigated, although these ten people strictly met the criteria for selection into the Joint Investigation Team, without exception they all came from tenant farmer backgrounds, with genealogies scattered all over the place.

She did not stop her investigation there. Instead, she used the National Taxation Bureau—which appeared to have been separated but in reality had been redirected underneath—to mobilize more manpower and higher authority from the secret intelligence department, digging into the specific major figures behind the manipulation of the master list.

All confidential materials of the Alliance were open to Anna. The authority she possessed was on the same level as Mitia’s, likewise the highest.

Very quickly, the findings behind eight of the individuals converged on two major figures. One was Lawrence, Minister of the Alliance Ministry of Justice, and the other was Golitsyn, the Speaker of the Assembly.

‘Their nerve is far too great—directly interfering with the selection of investigation team members. Who gave them the guts?!’

Anna said angrily from the side. Only in front of Mitia would she revert to her former straightforwardness, saying whatever was on her mind, her emotions not concealed in the slightest.

“Perhaps it’s not that they’re bold, but that there’s something here forcing them to gamble their lives with mine,” Mitia said thoughtfully.

‘Gamble their lives with yours?’

“They’re betting that the Alliance has only one Central Special Intelligence Division as an internal counter-subversion agency. When you used the Special Division, did you fail to uncover any information at all?”

Anna’s expression immediately turned ugly upon hearing this. She was the head of the intelligence apparatus, yet she had been blatantly blindsided right under the lamp. ‘I understand. I will clean it up thoroughly!’

Mitia nodded indifferently. “That’s normal. Surface departments always have the chance to be infiltrated. They were set up precisely to let them deliver themselves to our door. Besides, this isn’t what we rely on anyway.”

She did not overly manage the specific operations of the government, but that did not mean she ignored them entirely. What she practiced was grasping the big and letting go of the small.

All the personnel retained by the Secret Intelligence Bureau back then, without exception, had come from Mitia’s Ministry of Internal Affairs.

The Secret Intelligence Bureau did not follow the governmental system, but was directly linked to the Ministry of Military Affairs, capable of directly mobilizing the military’s reconnaissance systems.

There was no concept of monthly or annual salaries. Instead, the central government issued a stipend each month sufficient for living expenses, with full payment settled in one lump sum only after retirement.

During service, food, clothing, housing, and transportation—everything used—was not linked to local governments at all. After the central authority received tax revenues remitted from the localities, it would purchase sufficient supplies locally using those taxes and then hand them over to the troops.

Coupled with the system of serving in different regions, this maximized the reduction of local influence and checks on local military forces, preserving the purity of the army.

They did not depend on local governments for sustenance, making them naturally ideal as the foundational base for intelligence departments. Moreover, the secret departments only had one-way contact with the military’s intelligence units and would not leak even the slightest hint of information.

Speaking of which, it was rather amusing. Before the Joint Investigation Team and the Central Special Division had even set out, a batch of people had already been arrested internally, though all of this was carried out in secrecy.

While boarding the train bound for New State, they were directly subdued on the spot by the Secret Intelligence Bureau and disarmed. Then, a new investigation team composed of the ten individuals who had previously been deliberately purged set out on the journey.

At the same time, the garrison forces of the three surrounding states centered on Ankargas all received orders. Each was to dispatch a division to form a special corps and rapidly march toward Ankargas, while simultaneously issuing directives to the forces stationed in Ankargas forbidding any movement, enforcing same-state avoidance.

Sometimes, the danger-sensing instincts of politicians were indeed extremely keen.

With both the overt and covert lines advancing steadily, Mitia, after finishing her official duties, would occasionally go to the firing range to amuse herself with big toys like Gatling autocannons.

This counted as one of her rare indulgent sports.

It truly was indulgent. Such large-caliber, magic-energy electric-motor-driven, high-rate-of-fire weapons exceeded four thousand rounds per minute, with each shell costing just over one hundred.

Firing for two minutes would consume enough money to land other corrupt officials in prison for at least ten years. Even when she paid for the ammunition herself, she felt a bit of heartache.

Of course, that was calculated using live ammunition. She was not truly a prodigal; firing some practice rounds to enjoy herself was enough.

Playing with big toys, then taking a bath, changing clothes, and drinking a cup of tea in the pavilion of the rear garden of the Royal Palace while feeding the pig-dragon fish in the pond allowed Mitia to regulate her mental state quite well.

Just as Mitia was savoring tea in the garden, an inner palace maidservant approached her with light steps, leaned down, and whispered softly by her ear that Prime Minister Golitsyn was outside seeking an audience.

Mitia patted the other party’s thigh wrapped in white silk, indicating that she understood.

Why pat her thigh? Do you know how difficult it is to manufacture white silk stockings? Alright, actually it wasn’t that difficult—she simply wanted to touch it~

When she had lingered enough and rose to go meet him, Golitsyn was wearing an old-style Astal military uniform, his chest covered with all kinds of medals. He knelt straight down before her, weeping and wailing.

Mitia bent over and reached out to help him up, personally straightening his collar and smoothing the wrinkles on his uniform. Her movements were extremely gentle, but the words she spoke carried not the slightest warmth: “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not helping you. You are you; they are they.”

Golitsyn’s body trembled upon hearing this, and he hurriedly said, “Your Majesty! I was wrong! I shouldn’t have been momentarily bewitched into committing a grave mistake. Please, Your Majesty, for the sake of this old servant’s years of service to you and to the nation, the military merits I established, and my diligent devotion—”

Mitia raised her hand to stop him and beckoned to Anna, who had rushed over. “Bring a tray.”

Seeing Golitsyn’s attire, Anna immediately understood Mitia’s intention. She quickly fetched a medal tray and walked over, holding it, to Mitia’s side.

Mitia reached out and removed the medal worn at the very top of Golitsyn’s chest:

“This one—the People’s Medal. It rewarded you for following me from the Har Town meat grinder all the way until the founding of the Seris Federation. It was the highest honor bestowed upon you. I issued a total of five of these medals, corresponding exactly to the current heads of the five major departments.”

“This one—the People’s Meritorious Gold Star Medal. It rewarded your outstanding contributions to the people through commanding campaigns. I issued twelve in total, for twelve generals.”

“This one—the First-Class Church Medal. The Hendak Campaign. Only two were issued—one to you, and one to Lawrence.”

“And this one—the First-Class Freedom Medal. It rewarded your exceptional achievements in the arrest of major nobles and manor lords, and for rescuing large numbers of tenant farmers and serfs.”

Mitia gently removed each medal from his body and placed them back onto the tray.

Golitsyn’s body trembled more and more violently. When all the medals on his uniform had been removed by Mitia, the internal guards supporting him from behind released their grip, allowing him to collapse onto the ground.

Only after unhurriedly finishing all this did Mitia look down at him. “Golitsyn, have you noticed any commonality?”

“You forgot who you once were. The current you is weak, because only the weak extend their hands toward those even weaker. It was also you who personally returned these honors with your own hands.”

“Military merit? Diligent devotion? What merit do you still have now? All your achievements are like sandcastles on a beach—once the tide comes in, nothing remains.”

“All your merit and all your honor were built upon the foundation that the people were not oppressed. Once you turned your back on the people, you became nothing at all!”