There are many stories about people being possessed by ghosts.
Many of the main characters in such tales shared some similar traits, one of which was that many were psychologically unwell.
Whether due to extreme stress, sheer fatigue from a difficult daily life, or anger and stress arising from interpersonal relationships, people in a ‘hard’ state are more susceptible to ghostly possession.
Moreover, there exists a potent liquid that can drive even a sane person’s mind to madness and doesn’t earn scorn or get anyone thrown in jail when distributed around—in fact, it’s often met with gratitude and praise. It’s called liquor. (Forced drinks at company dinners don’t count.)
So, as the witch said,
“First, let’s get them drunk to put them in a daze, and then the spirits can do the real moving. A healthy rookie for the body, and a seasoned expert for the skills.”
This was a wicked plan of using someone’s body without their consent, but Dorothea paid it no mind.
The staff were eating and drinking lavishly without any painful memories, the spirits could feel the world through living bodies after a long time, and Dorothea was achieving her goals. It seemed like a win-win situation.
Fortunately, Dorothea’s greed for wealth wasn’t too strong.
Otherwise, a bloodthirsty, merciless capitalist might have been born.
[The Tin Knight points out that it’s quite costly and troublesome to prepare for this!]
[The Tin Knight wonders if they can just raise skeletons to do the work!]
“Hah.”
Responding to the Tin Knight’s comments, Dorothea sighed dramatically and shook her head.
“How can bones do precision tasks? You’ve only got bones left; can you even move?”
For him, it was a rare experience to be left speechless.
Sure, it was a valid point, but should a necromancer be the one to say that? Wasn’t it a bit like denying the fundamental laws of the universe?
“When people think ‘necromancer,’ they generally imagine an army of the dead, but that has worse fuel efficiency than you’d think. If it’s just after death and everything is intact, that’s one thing, but with only bones left, what would make them move? It’s all magical energy.”
[The Tin Knight asks if that means a skeleton army is impossible!]
“If you’re asking whether it’s possible or impossible, it’s technically not impossible. Spirits filled with resentment or strong emotions spew out magic power like crazy, so it’s not a huge burden on the necromancer. But these kinds are full of hostility toward the living and just being around them exudes curses. Try making them work, and the residents will be carried out on stretchers by the next day or turned into new malevolent spirits.”
Then Dorothea continued,
“This isn’t some remote village; do you think we should have skeletons do construction in the middle of the city? Wouldn’t fully armed guards come to purge them within ten minutes? Even if somehow we got past that, the rumors would spread like wildfire, and the place would be practically deserted. More than that, my reputation would be ruined. It’s absolutely out of the question.”
It was clear that the earlier points were just extras, and her last mention of reputation seemed like the crux of the matter.
The Tin Knight didn’t mention how a lady so concerned about others’ opinions dressed the way she did.
To point out what he considered a ‘cool’ outfit would be an act of cruelty.
And, frankly, it was more enjoyable to look at her current appearance than one wrapped up from head to toe. How could one endure the fashion of an evil female executive?
“So hiring people to temporarily host spirits is the most efficient and stable method. You don’t have to worry about being seen.”
[The Tin Knight asks if there are no side effects!]
“Sure, the spirits may cause some side effects, and moving beyond their original capability will drain their energy and stamina rapidly. But that’s why we feed them well. We’ve mixed in special herbs, so there shouldn’t be any issues for about a week. Beyond that, there might be aftereffects.”
Both Dorothea and the Tin Knight gazed ahead.
With even just one person, expert craftsmen were competing against each other, working non-stop to showcase their skills, and the workshop was taking shape at an alarming speed.
It was truly a satisfying and rewarding sight of labor that gave a sense of pride simply by looking at it.
However, there was one thing Dorothea found displeasing.
“Hohoho. So necromancy can be used like this. How fascinating!”
“Hey.”
“My name isn’t Hey; it’s Gale, Dorothea.”
“Forget that. What are you doing just sitting around here?”
At Dorothea’s words, Gale slurped up her drink.
In her hand was a cylindrical cup with bizarre symbols engraved on its surface.
Interpreting Dorothea’s gaze, Gale shook the cup she held.
“Would you like one? It has a temperature-preserving effect for the liquid inside, making it quite handy.”
Upon hearing Gale, the Tin Knight was taken aback.
[The Tin Knight is shocked that a tumbler is here!]
[The Tin Knight questions the anachronism!]
Gale’s ruckus didn’t reach Dorothea’s ears, as she gracefully dismissed it as always.
“I don’t need it.”
“It’s a gift of goodwill, so there’s no charge!”
“Stop changing the subject and answer why you’re here.”
Gale tilted her wrist and gestured around the city with a nod.
Dorothea narrowed her eyes.
This girl, who looked like a princess from a fairy tale, was oddly acting in a down-to-earth manner.
In a good light, she seemed friendly and informal; but viewed from a slightly skewed angle, she resembled a street urchin.
She was in stark contrast to Franka Aglaia, who was a rich, naive lady in both appearance and behavior.
Whether Gale knew of Dorothea’s thoughts or not, she began to spill the tea without being asked.
“One of the reasons I came here was that I wanted to see the magical automaton made by Polen Gepetto in his lifetime. It was such a fine piece, it’s hard to believe he was a dollmaker from the Empire.”
It was such a natural outburst of regional bias, but Dorothea didn’t particularly care.
It was common knowledge that the Empire’s magical automaton technology lagged behind that of the Magical Kingdom.
“Isn’t it a bit late for the news? That old man has been dead for over a decade.”
“Still, in the same city, I thought something would be left behind. But the result was the worst. People parading around claiming to be artisans were nothing more than barely trainees. The only ones worth seeing were those siblings, but even they couldn’t showcase their skills due to the working conditions. What could I do? I need to create an environment matching their talent. I originally planned to give Polen’s workshop back, but the current owner turned out to be a trashy one!”
As Gale spoke, she pointed at Dorothea with the hand holding her long cylindrical cup—the kind that the Tin Knight would call a tumbler.
Dorothea felt an urge to just smash it, but as Gale continued, she spoke up.
“By the way, Dorothea, I saw what you’re doing. It’s a good operation, a great plan. Naturally, it’s better to have newer versions than old ones. If not, you just make new ones. I’m willing to join in.”
“Who told you to join? You keep sticking around like we’re friends, but I have no intention of becoming close with you, so disappear right now.”
“You don’t need to feel so embarrassed.”
Dorothea contemplated.
Should I just challenge her? I don’t know if she has the kingdom’s secrets, but getting rid of her would eliminate a competitor in the long run.
[The Tin Knight exclaims, just give the word, and I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth!]
Ironically, it was the sight of the Tin Knight, who looked like he’d call for help any moment, that restrained Dorothea’s fighting spirit.
As a rational and intelligent witch, she couldn’t afford to descend to the same level as that lunatic.
“Just like you received a request from the brother of that sibling, I received a request from the sister’s side. Doesn’t that make us equivalent in qualification?”
“Qualifications won’t matter if you have no track record. I’m the one building everything.”
Then Gale placed her hand on her chest.
“That’s where my rune magic can come into play. While lacking compared to a professional alchemist, I do have a decent amount of knowledge in this field. In other words, with me, better equipment can be made, and the quality of the workshop can improve, which means your automaton and my signature can receive better maintenance. Isn’t this mutually beneficial?”
“…….”
As if to reflect Dorothea’s concerns, the frown between her brows deepened.
***
Charles Stromboli found himself unable to comprehend the situation.
“Didn’t I clearly tell our people to reach out?”
“Yes, my lord. I’ve done so.”
“Then which bastard dared to ignore my orders and take their side?”
“No, my lord. Among the skilled workers, no one has ignored your commands. The ones mobilized for that construction project are all drifters without proper skills or jobs.”
“Really? Then let’s see.”
On a hill overlooking the northwest of the city.
Pointing at the newly constructed workshop in the center, Charles was fuming.
“How is that building being constructed so well?! And in just a day, it’s nearly complete!”
Technically, it wasn’t even a complete day but rather a day and a half, yet no one dares to point that out in front of a hot-tempered manager like him.
“It appears they’ve divided a workforce of about twenty into three groups and worked round the clock.”
“No, that can’t be it. Just that reason alone can’t explain the work speed!”
The villainous capitalist Charles believed that workers were inherently lazy.
Pay for eight hours of work? So the hired laborers won’t spend those eight hours working hard; instead, they’ll be sneaking glances around and taking it easy.
After all, as long as they fill their eight hours, they’ll get paid, so there’s no reason to push themselves.
The shrewd Charles had known to observe those who didn’t do their jobs well and kick them out under the pretense of not deserving compensation or to keep watchmen nearby to instill continuous motivation (what the world calls curses, violence, and threats) to enhance productivity. But even those ‘sophisticated’ methods wouldn’t account for the work speed witnessed now.
Especially not when dealing with a bunch of hacks who weren’t even artisans!
“They weren’t just ordinary drifters. They must have been hiding some excellent skills all along, pretending to be incompetent…!”
Charles trembled.
What had he thought was the last desperate gasp of back-alley beggars was, in fact, part of some grand plan?
If those guys had been preparing for this moment for years?
“Yeah, it’s no wonder Polen’s assets have been worryingly sparse for a top-notch artisan. He must have been hiding his wealth somewhere, and that Smith character must have found it. Damn it, while pretending to be beggars, they’ve been secretly building their power. How cunning!”
If Smith had heard this, he might have asked Charles if he’d taken some strange medicine.
“Do you think I’ll easily fall for this? They’ve thrown a bold scheme my way, but this industry is a capital battle; let me show them!”
Charles’s eyes sparkled as he barked orders to his subordinates.
“Right now, those hired drifters—no, skilled artisans who’ve hidden their abilities—get them hired on our faction’s side. Pay top dollar if need be. No, pay whatever they ask! These are likely the kind of individuals with substantial loyalty or friendship, so they won’t submit easily.”
“To bring all of them on such terms will require significant funds…”
“Not only do they possess exceptional skills, but they also have the meticulousness to hide from prying eyes for years. This is where you invest! Now shut up and make it happen!”
Charles let out a sinister chuckle.
“I can’t wait to see how your face twists when you find out I’ve snatched the connections you’ve nurtured for nearly a decade from right under you! Hahahahaha!”
***
Worker Dalton and his colleagues clinked their cups and shouted.
“Cheers to another vigorous day!!”
“Cheers!!”
![[TS] The End of Magical Girls Has Come](https://i3.wp.com/darkmtl.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/1737407792-8993-TS-The-end-of-magical-girls-has-come.png?resize=85,105 "[TS] The End of Magical Girls Has Come")
