Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

After finishing a day’s work, Hestia finally reached the end of her shift.

“Alright, I’ve kept you entertained all day. Now be good and stay in your nest,” she said, pressing down gently on the small white-scaled snake that had raised its head before her.

Straightening up, she looked around. It was close to 6 PM, and the simulated sky overhead had gradually shifted to a blue-purple dusk.

It was time to head home, she thought. However, she took a few more steps deeper into the forested area to find the large spider sitting in its box.

The box had been placed there temporarily by Botis. It had a faint ability to gather Aijeka particles, which helped suppress the spider’s magical energy. Although weak, it was effective in stabilizing the creature’s powers.

After petting the massive spider, which put her in a better mood, Hestia finally left the grove.

At the changing room on the 38th floor, she swapped into her usual casual clothes before heading out.

On the way home, Hestia remembered that it was Friday, which meant Lisa would likely be staying over at Grandma He’s place.

She decided to buy something delicious on her way back. With her current financial situation not as tight as before, she could afford to indulge a little.

Passing by a supermarket, she stepped from the dimly lit street into the bright shop interior, as she often did, to browse and pick out items.

The prices of staple foods like rice and vegetables hadn’t changed much. Seasonal fruits had started appearing on shelves, and her favorite white strawberries had gone up a bit in price. On the other hand, premium-quality watermelon wasn’t as expensive as she’d anticipated.

After a brief deliberation, Hestia decided to buy a box of strawberries and two boxes of lychees, spending around 162 Federation coins. She also picked up a bottle of T6-grade low-voltage energy drink for 15 Federation coins.

On the AI display screen, the prices were listed as the robotic arms carefully packed her items into bags, showing the cost one by one before initiating checkout.

“Thank you,” Hestia said softly, extending her pale wrist toward the chip scanner. A faint beep confirmed the payment.

These smaller supermarkets often offered discounts to retain loyal customers, typically around 5% to 10%.

When she arrived at Grandma He’s house, Hestia swiped the door open and stepped inside.

“I’m home,” she announced. She now split her time between two residences: her own and Grandma He’s. If she didn’t come to Grandma He’s place, she would notify her in advance.

“Hestia, you’re back from work,” Grandma He greeted her as she emerged from the kitchen, directing the kitchen AI to finish cooking.

These days, most Federation households used automated AI machines for cooking. However, eating AI-prepared meals for too long could get monotonous, prompting people to adjust the process themselves based on personal tastes—adding or reducing salt, cooking dishes longer, or altering the preparation method slightly. This allowed for a degree of DIY fun.

In high-end restaurants or hotels, however, chefs still prepared meals personally. Transcendent abilities had brought about many innovations, with certain professional roles employing unique techniques that machines simply couldn’t replicate, enhancing the flavor of dishes in unparalleled ways.

For instance, after simmering ingredients to absorb flavors, a skilled chef could instantly evaporate excess moisture, leaving the food crispy and flavorful without burning it. Or, they could slice meat into ultra-thin pieces, expertly sear it with precise flames, and season it to perfection—things that machines would struggle to achieve.

“I’m back. Where’s Lisa? Isn’t today her day off?”

“She’ll be back later. I heard her school had an event today,” Grandma He replied. Friday was often a busy day for elementary school activities.

“Let me help you with dinner, then,” Hestia offered, walking toward the kitchen.

“No need. It’s almost done. You’ve worked all day. Now that you’re off, go watch some TV or rest,” Grandma He insisted.

Unable to argue, Hestia instead took the fruits she’d bought and began washing them, arranging them neatly in a glass bowl.

Returning to the living room, she set the bowl on the table and started nibbling on the freshly bought white strawberries.

Compared to the T6-grade red strawberries, the T5-grade white strawberries had been bred for improved flavor. Before packaging, the small leaves had been thoughtfully removed, allowing them to be eaten whole after washing.

“With June coming to an end and the toxicity of acid rain subsiding, northern districts are reopening. As summer break approaches, travel has become a trending topic…”

The news played on TV, showcasing various tourist spots to entice viewers.

While interstellar travel was a more attractive option, the financial situation of most Federation residents meant that exploring nearby districts was already a good choice.

Once dinner was ready, Grandma He joined Hestia at the table, patiently waiting for the family to return home.

As the clock neared seven, the sound of the door sliding open was followed by lively chatter outside, and soon Lisa’s cheerful voice rang out.

“I’m back, Grandma~!” she called as she stepped lightly into the living room, quickly spotting Hestia there as well.

“Hestia-sis, hello~!” Lisa exclaimed, leaping into Hestia’s arms for a hug before letting go a moment later.

“Lisa is in a great mood today. She won third place in the school event,” said Lisa’s mother, He Xiang, who walked in next. She was He Cheng’s older sister.

The couple set down their belongings, changed into house slippers, and joined everyone in the living room. They chatted about Lisa’s accomplishments at school, laughter filling the room. It wasn’t until around 7:30 that dinner was served.

“Did He Cheng mention when he’d be home?” He Xiang asked at the dining table.

“He said he might be late tonight and told us to save him a meal,” replied Grandma He.

“Still working so hard, sigh,” He Xiang murmured, shaking her head.

Although He Cheng earned a decent living as a transport worker, the job was exhausting and unstable compared to her own office position.

Years ago, when Grandma He raised the siblings, financial hardships meant that only He Xiang could attend high school, while He Cheng started working right after graduating middle school. Over the years, he had cycled through various jobs before settling in transportation.

As low-level employees themselves, He Xiang and her husband couldn’t provide He Cheng with a better career path, only occasional advice.

For ordinary people, life rarely involved dramatic ups and downs, more often consisting of monotonous routines. Perhaps only the laughter of children at home could bring occasional joy.

Hestia watched the scene quietly, thinking to herself that, if she ever got the chance, she’d like to help Grandma He’s family. But having just graduated, she still had years before she could truly step into society.

For now, she would endure. She needed to grow quickly—not only to help those around her but also to unravel the mysteries her parents had left behind.

…

Over the next week, Hestia officially began operating her exclusive storytime counter.

…

“…And so, the young man rode the white dragon, soaring toward the distant skies, leaving behind the princess who had deceived him and the ignorant, hate-filled villagers.”

“There would be no salvation, no redemption. When darkness descended for the second time, no hero wielding a sword would emerge to slash through the thorns and save the doomed kingdom.”

“Tears turned into a sea of lament. People paid for their past deceptions and shortsightedness, as crawling monsters submerged the entire kingdom into the salty depths of despair.”

The story came to a slow conclusion, and the room’s lights gradually brightened. The girl seated on a flower-vine-like chair gently closed the book, the lingering echoes of her voice still reverberating in the listeners’ ears.

A round of applause followed—not loud but heartfelt, as the audience marveled at the story’s depth and its dreamlike resonance.

There were about a dozen people in the small library, half of them children.

When the session ended, the children surrounded Hestia, asking for signed cards. The adults standing behind them watched the scene with satisfaction.

“I got Dantalion-sis’s third signed card!” a child exclaimed, raising a card adorned with a white dragon and a young boy, beaming with happiness.

“I’m going to collect all 12 and display them!” Another child declared, joyfully running back to their parents after receiving a card.

“That’s it for today’s session. Thank you for listening!”

Hestia stood in the library, holding a picture book as she bowed to the audience. The curtain slowly descended afterward.

Once the library emptied out, Hestia rearranged the scattered chairs and tables, while the cleaning robot at her feet swept up dust and crumbs.

Sitting on a tall chair, she leaned back to rest, only for a small snake head to peek out behind her.

“Alright, don’t bother me now,” she said, removing the little snake that had brushed against her ear and placing it in her lap before closing her eyes for a short nap.

After about half an hour, with the tables and chairs tidied and the floor cleaned, she jumped lightly down from the high chair.

Running her exclusive storytime counter had its perks: once her day’s work was done, her time was her own. Though it was only a little past 4 PM, she had no more tasks for the day.

Placing the picture book back in its drawer and locking the cabinet, Hestia left the quiet little library.

“Finished for the day, Dantalion?” The maids of Crystal Dream greeted her warmly as she stepped out, smiling as they asked about the day’s work.

“Doing great! Dantalion’s story sessions are steadily gaining traction—starting to feel like a fairy tale witch, aren’t you?” they teased with laughter.

Initially, no one expected Dantalion’s story sessions to become so popular with children since the establishment’s main patrons were adults.

Perhaps it was because the adults, wanting to have conversations or conduct business, felt uneasy leaving their children unattended elsewhere. So, they let the kids listen to stories in Dantalion’s fairy tale-themed library.

Although initially an unintentional move, the storytelling sessions had such a positive effect that parents began deliberately bringing their children to listen.

“How should I put it? Adults have their own share of troubles—many they can’t openly express—so they seek occasional relaxation or some form of solace and guidance.”

For children, the fairy tales might simply be fun and entertaining stories, but adults often sensed the deeper meanings and comfort hidden behind the narratives. Each group appreciated a different kind of beauty in the tales.

“Also, Dantalion’s little promotional activities are quite clever,” one of the maids remarked playfully.

To attract regular attendees, Hestia had prepared a set of illustrated postcards resembling pages from picture books. After each storytelling session, she would handwrite a blessing and sign the cards before gifting them to the audience.

Each card featured a unique illustration and story. Today’s card depicted a white dragon soaring through the azure sky with a young boy on its back. Below it, in elegant black script, were the words:

“May you, like the white dragon, break free from your chains and fly into the true sky.”

If anyone collected all 12 cards, Hestia would reward them with a picture book.

This initiative earned her a small but loyal group of followers. While the numbers weren’t large, the atmosphere was peaceful and free from the noise and complexity of the outside world.

After chatting with the maids, Hestia headed to the nearby Decarabia White Feather Chapel. Peeking inside, she saw that all the guests had left and then stepped in.

Inside the circular enclosure, some birds preened their feathers, others chirped, and a few perched before Decarabia, pecking at the food in her palm.

“Ow~” Decarabia set the bird feed on a small white table, perhaps because her hand had started to itch or ache, letting the birds enjoy it freely.

“Is that Dantalion I hear?” Recognizing the familiar footsteps, Decarabia looked up to see Hestia enter.

The two knelt before the table. From Hestia’s sleeve, the little white-scaled snake slithered out and coiled itself on the table, curiously observing the birds as they pecked at their meal.

“Don’t attack them, okay~?” Hestia gently held the snake, brushing her finger over its head to admonish the mischievous creature.

Perhaps understanding her words, the snake backed off a little but continued to watch the birds with curiosity from a safe distance.

“It’s so well-behaved. It even seems to understand you,” Decarabia remarked, looking at the small snake with a mix of curiosity and envy.

Although she raised many birds, they weren’t magical creatures with heightened intelligence. They could only perform simple tasks, like lifting her hair or skirt or showing off occasionally.

“It does understand, but it can be naughty at times,” Hestia replied, her tone affectionate.

“Did you raise it in the Botis Jungle?”

“Yes, that place is full of magical venomous creatures. There’s even a giant spider there recovering from an injury right now,” Hestia noted thoughtfully.

“I’ve heard about that. People say Dantalion is the only person in the shop, aside from Botis herself, who can interact so easily with those creatures,” Decarabia said.

“In the past, some brave maids ventured into the jungle but got bitten, so no one goes in anymore.”

“Bitten?” Hestia recalled her first visit there, which had gone surprisingly smoothly. Perhaps she’d just been lucky.

“What happens after a bite? Surely they’d need treatment right away?”

“Yes, the shop keeps antidotes on hand, per the manager’s instructions to Botis. Otherwise, those creatures wouldn’t be allowed in the shop,” Decarabia explained. She then pulled out a small piece of candy and waved it in front of the snake, seemingly to catch its attention.

“Ah~!”

The snake suddenly darted forward, biting into the candy and startling Decarabia into letting go.

Fortunately, the little snake showed restraint and didn’t bite Decarabia’s fingers, otherwise, it would have faced a stern reprimand.

“Scaring others again,” Hestia said, tapping the snake’s head lightly before helping it swallow the candy.

After eating its treat, the snake grew drowsy and coiled itself on the table to rest.

“It’s actually quite beautiful,” Decarabia said, resting her chin on her arms as she admired the snake. The tree viper’s scales were strikingly ornamental. If not for its venom, it might have been a popular pet.

Since humanity entered the interstellar age, pets had diversified significantly. The heightened intelligence of magical creatures made it possible to tame previously untamable species, rendering them safe companions.

Last weekend, while shopping with Irene, Hestia had even seen a clothing store that kept jellyfish as pets.

Inside a tall blue glass tank, glowing jellyfish swam gracefully, their bioluminescence creating a mesmerizing display.

After spending time talking with Decarabia, Hestia returned to her quiet little library. She practiced the violin on her high chair, the serene music filling the air until it was time to clock out.

Since the last gathering, Hestia’s life had gradually settled into a calm and stable routine.

During the day, she completed her work. In her leisure time, she practiced the violin or occasionally chatted with her colleagues. On her days off, she reconnected with her former elementary school classmates, growing close to them again.

Thus, June slowly came to an end, and July began. The once-toxic rains began to wane, gradually becoming harmless.

Meanwhile, the northern districts started to grow lively and open again.