Chapter 97 - The Magical World through Rachel's Eyes, Part 1

While Asmodeus and Rowena amused themselves,

In the familiar town of Alfriston in East Sussex, Rachel read a report on the farm productivity in the county.

"16.5 tons per hectare... Potions truly work wonders..." - Comparing the new statistics with those of previous years, Rachel marveled each time at how much wheat, barley, and other grains farmers had managed to grow in just six months.

Yes, in six months! You heard it right. Thanks to potions and druidic magic, grain crops can be harvested twice a year. Not to mention potatoes and vegetable crops, farmers anticipate harvesting 5 to 7 potato crops per year!

'This is simply unprecedented! If this continues, the world will forget about hunger and embark on a path of food overproduction!' - Rachel thought cheerfully to herself.

"Knock, knock."

"Coming!"

Her reflections were interrupted by a knock on the door. Tidying herself up, Rachel approached the door.

"Creak."

"Rachel Thorbils, responsible for the East Sussex region?"

"Yes, it's me, and you...?"

"I'm the new courier for the Wizard Council. Due to a shortage of owls lately and the lack of sufficient numbers of beetle-phones among government officials, the council has decided that important assignments and information will be delivered personally, hand to hand."

"Oh, alright. So, what do you have for me?"

"Here, a letter from the council. Tomorrow at 2:00 PM, the gathering of wizards responsible for regional development begins. In addition to a session focused on discussing future funding, development, and enhancement of regions, the assembly will showcase new devices that can be useful in magical agriculture. Here's your ticket. A piece of advice – arrive half an hour early, or you'll find yourself waiting in line at the entrance. Representatives from all European countries and even a few Asian countries will be present at the assembly."

"Alright, thank you. How much do I owe you for the delivery?"

"Miss Thorbils, I am a government employee too. The council covers my payment. Have a pleasant evening."

"Okay, goodbye."

Closing the door behind her, Rachel headed to the kitchen. Sitting at the table, she set aside the ticket and opened the letter.

"Responsible for District 102, England. Rachel Thorbils.

This letter is sent to all those responsible for the stable development of the magical world in regions. We invite you to attend the exhibition showcasing the latest achievements of 'wizard researchers' in the fields of agriculture, construction, and transportation.

The council recommends attending the exhibition. Expenses for accommodation and meals at the 'Hog's Head Inn' will be covered by the council. Please keep receipts for payment and provide them to the council upon completion of the exhibition.

If you believe that a particular product presented at the exhibition could aid in the development of your region, you may contact the Department of Regional Development Financing for additional funds. The 'Regional Development Funding Department' will open a temporary branch at the 'Hog's Head Inn' where you can submit your request. If your request is well-founded, funds will be granted for equipment purchase.

This letter is accompanied by a ticket to the exhibition.

The ticket also serves as a 'port key,' departure at 1:00 PM. If you fail to use the 'port key' in time, you'll need to make your way to the exhibition using your own means.

Thank you for your attention."

Rachel read the letter and set it aside. '13:00... I'll have to postpone the inspection of the reconstructed buildings for a couple of days,' she thought to herself. Taking a sheet of paper, Rachel began to write, "Rescheduling the inspection of reconstructed buildings..." She spent about five minutes composing an official document explaining the reason for postponing the inspection of recently reconstructed buildings.

Once finished, she handed the letter to a small owl sitting on the table. This owl, named "Puffy," was Rachel's choice for delivering official documents. By the way, Puffy belongs to the "domestic" owl breed, meaning she can carry only a few letters at a time.

Sending Puffy on her way, Rachel completed some paperwork and officially ended her workday. Standing up from her desk, she was about to head to the kitchen when she turned around, as if she had forgotten something.

"Ah, there you are!"

Rachel picked up the wand lying next to the quill she had been using. Sensing that everything was now in place, she waved the wand, and her formal attire transformed into a casual outfit.

Nodding in satisfaction with her clothing choice, Rachel headed to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, she felt that something was amiss. 'I need to cast the Freezing Spell on the fridge again...' Rachel stepped back from the fridge but left the doors open.

"Glacies!"

With a wand wave, a mist began emanating from its tip, heading straight into the fridge. After a couple of seconds of continuous cooling, when a layer of ice reappeared on the fridge walls, Rachel finally lowered her wand.

"Ground beef, Parmesan, onions, peppers, tomatoes..." she began listing the items needed for her meal.

With wand flourishes, products flew out of the fridge one by one and landed on the table.

"Take me to the magic of the moment on a glory night,"

Rachel sang softly, satisfied, as one of her favorite songs played in the background.

Rachel enjoyed the song while preparing dinner, occasionally glancing at the book on the table titled "Magic for Housewives, 100 Best Spells for Cooking."

After a short period, Rachel finished cooking and sat down to eat.

Once done, she looked at an intriguing version of clocks that became popular due to the absence of electricity. It was a mini version of the clock tower in the city of Adastra, but instead of fire, the hands seemed to be crafted from condensed mist.

Checking the time at 6:25, Rachel washed the dishes using a clearing spell. After cleaning up, she headed to the main hall where a television used to be, now replaced by two "beetle-phones," one of them noticeably larger, about the size of a big cat.

This was the latest version of the "beetle radio," born from the overfeeding of phone beetles on one of the farms.

The initial batch of these devices was nearly destroyed, but they ended up being handed over to researchers, resulting in the creation of this peculiar living gadget. In short, bigger equals louder. In fact, the functions remained the same, but mobility was almost non-existent, and it recorded voices poorly. However, when paired with the latest version of the phone beetle, featuring an improved "microphone," it transformed into an online broadcasting station. Due to the prevalence of phone beetles among musicians, every day on the radio turned into a live concert. Simply put, a musician or a band with a phone beetle gains access to the transmitter beetle, which then relays the signal to the radio beetles.

It might sound convoluted, but in practice, not much changed for radio users. Rachel approached the radio, singing along,

"Living just to find emotion, hiding! Somewhere! In the night! Don't stop!"

As the final lines of the song concluded, Rachel stroked the radio's back and said, "Lower the volume to level 1 for two hours."

"Request accepted."

The beetle wiggled its body, and the music grew softer, almost imperceptible unless one listened carefully. Rachel picked up another beetle lying to the left of the radio – her phone.

It was now 6:35, and she needed to make a call; otherwise, her little mischief-maker would be upset. Seated in the chair, Rachel asked the beetle to call her beloved daughter.

"Margaret, hi. How was your day?...."

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Yesterday, Rachel had talked with her daughter for almost two hours before heading to bed. Waking up early around 8 AM, Rachel had breakfast and, dressed in unremarkable clothing, went to the village.

Approaching the nearest house, she knocked on the door.

"Ray, it's Rachel. I need to check the results of the cultivation! You know it's an important order for our village!"

Rachel stood at the door for five minutes, but no one answered. It was strange because it was already 9 AM, and the Wolfson family were farmers who rose very early; she sometimes saw them working at 6 AM.

Realizing something was amiss, she became wary. Taking out her wand, she said, "Alohomora!"

The door opened, and as she was about to search the house for potential intruders or unusual things, she heard the shouts of an adult man.

"Hey, you bastards! Stop bouncing! Ouch, that hurts! Who rammed into my eye!? Elena, help!!! These things have gone mad!"

Recognizing the voice's owner, Rachel headed deeper into the house, where the greenhouse was located. When she opened the greenhouse doors, she witnessed a chaotic scene.

On the ground, in the middle of the greenhouse pathway, lay a 45-year-old man covering his head – and his other head.

Surrounding him were hundreds of Bouncing Bulbs, aggressively bouncing around and occasionally colliding with him with full force.

"...."

"Imobilus totalus!"

With a wand wave, the bulbs aiming for Adam's apple subtly froze in mid-air.

"Oh, who's this? Oh, it's you, Rachel, Merlin save you! I fear these things would have beaten me to death if it weren't for you!"

Rae rose from the ground, shaking off dirt, and thanked Rachel.

"Ray, where's your wand? And how did this happen...?"

"I don't know why, but when I was transplanting these little devils, they went berserk. First thing, they knocked my wand out, and when I tried to pick it up, they started hitting me on the hands... Then, they even got my eye."

Rachel nodded, suppressing a smile. Why suppress a smile? Well, when Ray lifted his head, she saw his panda eyes... Hehe.

When Ray found his wand, he quickly cast several cleansing and healing spells on himself, but the panda eyes remained.

"Let me help."

"Oh, thank you."

Rachel pointed her wand at Ray.

"Vulnera Sanentur..."

But before Rachel could finish, a scream came from behind her.

"Ah! Robbery, robbery! They're killing!"

Five minutes ago, Elena had gone to buy milk from the neighbor. When she returned, a scene unfolded before her: a woman in a not-so-clean black coat aimed her wand at her husband, who already had a battered face and two enormous black eyes.

Elena: (″ロ゛)

Rachel: (￣ω￣;)

Ray: (*/_＼)

"Elena, this is Rachel. I was attacked by bulbs..."

Over the next five minutes, Ray explained to Elena that everything was okay, and Rachel hadn't turned to the dark side.

______________________________________________

At 11 AM, Rachel returned home. For nearly two hours, she had been checking the quality of the Bouncing Bulbs Ray had grown. It was an important order for their village

Bouncing Bulbs were used as an ingredient in a potion that turned heads into pumpkins.

Rachel initially didn't understand why the city of Adastra ordered a massive batch of bulbs from their village until someone explained the potion aspect. In essence, based on internal information, someone from the council wanted to organize a carnival in the city for Halloween, and these potions would be distributed free to children on behalf of the Wizard Council.

Now, four out of fifteen farmers in the region were growing Bouncing Bulbs, and they paid well. However, the requirements for the vegetable were high to ensure the maximum duration of the potion's effect.

As the responsible person for the region, Rachel had the right to be one of the evaluators of the produce. Though her opinion wasn't decisive for the sake of impartiality, she was the one who requested an inspector to visit the village and pay for the produce.

If the results were satisfactory, the region would gain exclusive rights to grow jumping bulbs for Halloween, translating to a substantial amount of money for the village's development from the council. In short, it was crucial.

Fortunately, Ray's batch was doing well; the bulbs hadn't fully ripened, but they were already quite active, or perhaps aggressive. However, this was a sign of quality for this type of plant. So, when Rachel returned home, she was pleased.

Unfortunately, her happy mood didn't last long...

Rachel grabbed a snack, lit a fire in the fireplace, which also served as a grill, and went upstairs to her bedroom to change.

As she entered the bedroom, a voice immediately irritated her.

"Oh, Merlin, what a dreadful choice of clothing! I suggest you walk with a bag over your head, so people won't see how a beautiful lady wears this trash!"

These insults came from the talking mirror.

Rachel doesn't know why, but a week ago, she decided to buy this "mirror - fashion advisor." Who knew it had such a filthy mouth...

There are only two outfits that this alchemical creation likes, and nothing else! Every time she dresses in her farmer's clothes, a torrent of condemnation pours down on her.

"Believe it or not, but if you call my work clothes trash one more time, I'll take you to an XXXL fashion show!"

"Oh, Merlin! You devil! This is an abuse of mirrors!"

Rachel was glad the threat worked because the mirror now not only didn't say a word but also trembled a bit...

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