I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

The youth was just about to curse again, but after clearly seeing the uniform color scheme worn by the team members around him, he immediately swallowed the filthy words that had reached his lips, unable to stop himself from gulping as well.

He hurriedly turned around, went back inside, walked to the door of his grandfather’s bedroom, and gently knocked.

Before he could knock a second time, the door opened by itself from the inside. Old Tuck, who had supposedly been resting in the room, was already standing at the doorway wearing his former military uniform.

He pushed past the youth and walked out on his own.

“Grandpa...”

The youth called out, both anxious and confused.

Old Tuck turned back and carefully looked at his grandson, as if trying to carve the other’s face deep into his memory, before pushing the door open and walking out.

Walking along the corridor, the farther Tuck went, the colder his heart became.

At his level, retired senior cadres always had soldiers specially assigned to guard their doors, yet today, as he passed through the long corridor, not a single person came out to stop him.

He thought about many things along the way, until he reached downstairs and saw the old man holding documents. Old Tuck put on a smile and walked over to greet him: “Old Chief...”

The old man lifted his eyes and glanced at him, handed the document folder to a member of the Internal Affairs Department beside him, then swung backhandedly and delivered a resounding slap across Old Tuck’s face. The empty sleeve of his left arm swept through the air:

“Damn it to hell! What the fuck did I tell you when I stepped down? You promised me to my face, and now you treated it all like a fart in the wind, didn’t you?!”

The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the compound. Those peeking from above immediately sucked in a cold breath, while the members of the Inspectorate group around them hurriedly supported both the old man and Old Tuck.

This slap held nothing back at all. With such a frail body, how could he withstand it? Old Tuck was almost knocked unconscious.

Old Tuck himself could not hold it together either. This slap was enough to make it impossible for him to keep his dignity in the courtyard anymore: ‘Sigh, things pushed me along! I had no choice either.’

“I fucking had no choice?! You used to have the most damn tricks! Now that it’s being used on yourself in your old age, you suddenly have no choice?” As he spoke, he wanted to strike him hard again, but was stopped by the Internal Affairs Department personnel beside him.

No joke—the force acted both ways. It was fine if the one opposite got beaten to death, but they could not let their own old chief get hurt. Otherwise, it would become difficult to deal with the other families later...

That was right. The one-armed old man—or rather, this group that had come to the capital—had all entered the current Purge Forces the very next day.

“Stop bullshitting me. Move!”

“What are you looking at? Unwilling? I’m telling you, Old Tuck, no matter what method you use, you are going today whether you like it or not! Don’t force me to keep stripping you of face. Your grandson is still watching from upstairs!”

‘Is this Her Majesty the Empress’s意思吗？’

‘啪！’

“You still have the nerve to mention the Empress? Don’t you know what your son did? Back then, the Empress spared him for your sake. Did you think your face was that big? Using it once and again?”

“Today I’ll tell you straight—you’d better not have committed any fundamental mistakes. Once we find something, don’t blame your old brother here. Before I die, I’ll drag you along with me no matter what, and return a clean and clear world to the Alliance!”

They understood very clearly that many things were not appropriate for the Empress to do personally given her current status. But they did not mind, in the final stretch of their lives, giving their loyalty once more to the Empress and the Alliance.

Wasn’t it because they thought themselves high-ranking, senior, and contributors to the Alliance? We were as well! We could discipline you, and no one would dare say a single word.

Ankargas State

After three days of lying in state and memorial rites, Mrs. Thatcher held the small square box in her arms and embarked on the journey home. She was taking Thatcher back to their homeland, to be laid to rest.

Aside from two police cars escorting them, the convoy consisted only of the minibus carrying her and the child. This was Mrs. Thatcher’s wish—they had come simply, and naturally, they would leave just as simply.

When the convoy started and left the compound, and the minibus turned onto the main road, a crackling burst of firecrackers jolted Mrs. Thatcher’s listless spirit awake. She raised her head and looked out the window, only to see the streets already lined with people on both sides.

As the convoy moved forward slowly, the crowd holding white flowers silently watched the vehicles passing along the road. Every so often, firecrackers sounded again, and aside from that, there was no other noise.

The firecrackers were loud, meant to tell the departed that everyone was here, that he was not leaving alone. Everyone had come to see him off, so he could depart in peace.

Across the entire Alliance, state flags and national flags were lowered. Departing from the Ankargas Intercontinental Military Airport aboard a four-engine single-wing passenger plane, two fighter jets escorted it.

After the passenger plane reached cruising altitude, it circled Ankargas twice. Above Ankargas, countless star-like fireworks burst into bloom.

Each time it passed into a new state, fresh fighter jets took over the escort mission. Dense fireworks intermittently appeared in the airspace a thousand meters below the aircraft, and every major state the passenger plane flew over, without prior coordination, chose the same way to see Thatcher off.

When the people heard fireworks sounding within their state, they knew the aircraft formation had flown overhead, and the crackle of firecrackers immediately filled the streets and alleys.

Some people were even waiting on execution grounds for their firing squads, yet because Thatcher was about to pass overhead, they lived a few minutes longer.

Many raised their heads, gazing at the not-so-clear fireworks blooming continuously in the sky, their eyes filled with extraordinarily complex emotions.

Thatcher had once said that his death alone would be enough—enough to kick the other traitors back into hell. He had indeed accomplished it.

After his death, the wave stirred up within the Alliance made the gunshots at the execution grounds louder and longer than during the New Year.

At least tens of thousands paid for their mistakes and crimes, buried alongside him!

“Someone got away? Who?!”

Mitia paused her pen and looked up at Anna.

‘The Governor of Ankargas State, Donald. He bribed many people and hid at the port in advance. By the time our people tracked him to Coparac Port, he had already boarded a smuggling ship and escaped. He should be at sea now.’

Mitia did not ask why Donald had been able to escape. In this day and age, without all-seeing eyes or rapid computer searches, it truly was not that easy to catch someone who had hidden in advance.

“Then where is his destination?”

‘Dmitria...’

“The Church?”

Mitia froze for a moment, then laughed. “With his luck right now, it’s hard to say whether that counts as good or bad~”

Thinking about it, it made sense. Near Coparac Port, aside from Dmitria, the only other option was the United Kingdom of Suria. Given the relations between the two countries, running to Suria would basically be the same as throwing himself into a net. That left only this single remaining choice.

And on the surface, Dmitria was in a hostile relationship with the Seris Alliance. Viewed this way, Donald was fairly shrewd, and his main base was probably also within the Church State.

But... there was Count John over there!

After thinking for a moment, Mitia said, “Immediately initiate contact with John. Tell him he must seize Donald first. Send Donald’s specific ship identification number to him.”

‘Yes! I’ll immediately dispatch personnel to wait on the high seas for the handover.’

“Handover what? Let John personally deliver him to the King of Dmitria! This grand gift will let John completely secure his position.”

Anna froze for a moment. ‘Ah? Alright, I understand.’

Mitia leaned back into the sofa chair and ran through the plan in her head again. Broadly speaking, there were no issues.

Donald might have been a governor, but what a New State governor could access was extremely limited. It was neither an industrial state nor a strategic one.

Mitia was not foolish. A newly incorporated New State could not possibly hold the core secrets of the Seris Alliance; it could not even touch mid-to-high-end manufacturing.

The role of a ‘newbie protection zone’ was not merely to protect the industrial development of new states. It inherently carried the purpose of supervision and assessment.

A governor of a brand-new state with everything still in ruins was not nearly as indispensable as others imagined.