Otaku Witch

At night, Dorothy was packing her luggage in her own room.

If this were her past life, it would have been a painfully physical task, but now, it has to be said, magic is truly a wonderful civilization.

The lazy witch just lay languidly on her soft bed thinking about things, while in the room, two autonomous Mage's Hands were diligently packing items she would need for her trip, and finally stuffed them into the open carry-on leather suitcase, which had also been cast with the Space Extension Spell.

This type of storage suitcase had multiple folding layers inside and, after being expanded in space, each layer had its own independent sections, such as a dedicated Magic Potion layer, a library layer, a clothing and hats area, an equipment chamber, a sundries zone, and so on, practically a mini warehouse.

If you were to upgrade the suitcase further, enchant it with a living creature storage technique and add a living area, this thing could actually be used as a mobile home, which would be very convenient when adventuring in the wilderness without shelter, as one could simply live inside this box.

Therefore, this item is quite popular in the Witch World, considered an essential tool that everyone should have.

Dorothy's suitcase was a birthday gift from her father a few years ago, made by a well-known Alchemist Master in a limited edition, definitely high-grade goods—it could store living creatures, and the internal storage space was quite vast, with a total of thirteen expanded layers that could be arranged to the customer's liking.

Even the appearance of the suitcase, aside from its initial form as a carry-on luggage, offered dozens of different skins to choose from, such as backpacks, shoulder bags, briefcases, handbags, etc., well-suited for different occasions and outfits, making it the dream carry-all every little witch yearned for in their dreams.

Of course, such a wonderful creation also had a matching price—despite her father's status as a High-order Mage with a hefty salary in Sea Moon City, and even by the standards of witches, considered a middle-class income, this suitcase still drained almost a year and a half's worth of his total earnings. He even got a severe scolding from his stepmother because of it.

Even Dorothy, who did not like to go out and had no real need for a suitcase, was thrilled to receive this gift, as she could use the box as her secret base.

No boy could resist the temptation of a secret base of their very own, not even if he was a boy no longer.

Now, the space inside the suitcase had already been arranged by Dorothy, with the top layer serving as a mobile living area. Below it, in order, were a library, an alchemy room, a Magic Potion chamber, an equipment vault, a training area, a breeding zone, a garden, and the last five layers were various storage areas.

If one were to stand in front of this open carry-on looking in, it would almost seem like observing an exquisitely detailed, scaled-down children's toy house—small but complete, where you could see various pieces of furniture, equipment, collectibles, and even within the breeding area, observe rare and exotic creatures living in a miniature ecosystem; in the garden, view a miniature garden filled with all sorts of exotic flowers and trees.

Even though Dorothy had owned this Magic Box for many years, whenever she witnessed such a scene, apart from pride for the World in Hand she had worked hard to create, she felt admiration and longing for the formidable power of the Peak Witches.

Such an item, that might be hailed as a paradise within a jar, or World in Hand in other worlds, was merely seen as a plaything easily acquired for a bit of money in the world of witches.

The artistry of witches, truly breathtaking.

No wonder many of the original inhabitants of worlds conquered by witches worship them like deities—what difference is there between such powerful witches and the gods of legends, in the eyes of those lesser Races?

Yet the thought that this magical carry-on was a gift from her father immediately made Dorothy's expression turn complicated—even though she couldn't physically feel that sort of pain anymore.

The daytime fiasco was not yet over, and faced with her outrageous heritage, Dorothy found it hard to make a decision in the moment and needed some time to be quiet.

Her parents hadn't forced her to make a choice right then and there; the domineering Dragon Witch had politely stood up to leave, mentioning she would visit again tomorrow, giving Dorothy the night to calm down and make her decision.

But how should she choose? It's not that easy to decide.

She had thought her mother was the heartless one, abandoning her husband and child, so she had always harbored resentment towards her mother, but now that the misunderstanding was cleared up and she realized it was her father who had been the culpable one, Dorothy still couldn't bring herself to hate him.

After all, there were more than ten years of affection there—how could she suddenly just hate him? Aside from hiding the truth about her mother, Adam had been a qualified, even nearly perfect father in other respects, fulfilling the fantasies Dorothy, who had been an orphan in her past life, harbored about the father figure, and their relationship had always been good.

Besides, as someone who had once been human, Dorothy could somewhat understand her father's thinking—what human parents would want their child to become a heartless invader, a warmonger?

In this respect, Dorothy's thoughts were quite aligned with her father's; her reluctance to become an Armed Witch was influenced by her mother but mainly because she disliked killing. In her past life, she was just an ordinary homebody, not some retired elite soldier—she had never even killed a chicken, so it was impossible for her to suddenly become decisive and ruthless.

The fierceness of witches, however, was etched into their very genes. As a race of warriors that had been waging wars for hundreds of thousands of years, their combative nature and acceptance of killing and destruction were imprinted in the genes of witches.

Dorothy, who had inherited Witch's Blood, was occasionally startled by her own witch instinct—like how she could now dissect experimental creatures without batting an eyelid, not only unrepulsed by the gore but gradually excited by the smell of blood, and then there was her enthusiasm for combat. Despite her inner reluctance to become an Armed Witch, she would rush over at the mention of a duel, eager to spectate.

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It might just be as father said: the nature of witches is such, and not to mention, she had inherited the blood of the Dragon Witch, a breed among the most belligerent in the Witch World.

Dorothy lay on her bed and stretched her hand towards the ceiling, quietly observing her seemingly delicate and fair hand before exerting a slight force.

In the next moment, layers of illusory scale armor materialized on her smooth, pale arm like a natural vambrace. Those slender and exquisite fingers, seemingly perfect for playing the piano, instantly morphed into five sharp and lethal dragon claws, the tips gleaming with a chilling, icy light.

She seemed to have been born for slaughter and conquest—such was her innate Talent.

Looking at these fierce and terrifying natural weapons, Dorothy fell into deep thought.

In the past, out of resentment towards her mother, she had always deliberately ignored this aspect of her Talent. But what about the future? Now that the misunderstanding had been resolved, it seemed she had no more reason to continue squandering her Talent.

"Meow?"

By the troubled witch's side, a kitten that had not long been born opened its eyes. It looked at its master with some confusion. Sensing her master's distress through their soul bond, the kitten compassionately crawled onto her chest and then licked her face.

"Hehe, Buster, that tickles. Stop it," Dorothy said.

With her face tickled by the kitten's barbed tongue, Dorothy dispelled the anomaly on her hand. She picked up the tiny kitten and lifted it high.

"Buster, what do you think I should choose?"

"Meow?"

The kitten, still of low understanding, tilted its head and looked at its master with a dumbfounded expression.

"Tsk, you really are a little good-for-nothing, aren't you?"

As Dorothy scratched the kitten's chin and it purred contentedly, her worries dissipated considerably.

Cats truly were creatures that brought joy.

"Come in, don't just stand at the door like a statue. You've been standing there for half an hour, Alice."

Holding the kitten, Dorothy sat up straight on the bed and called out to the door.

Only then did the door open, and a little witch with a cautious look appeared at the doorway. She caught sight of the Mage's Hand busy packing things into a suitcase and instantly burst into tears.

"Sister, don't leave. I can't bear to be without you," the little witch threw herself into Dorothy's arms. The impact jostled the little kitten already nestled in her master's embrace, but luckily, her master's soft cushioning saved the kitten's life.

"Meow..."

After a yelp, the kitten struggled to get free.

However, the ruthless little witch obviously couldn't care less about the weak, pitiful, and helpless kitten. She just clung to her sister tightly, as if letting go would make her disappear.

In response, Dorothy was somewhat helpless; she reached out and stroked her sister's head, tangling her soft golden hair into a bird's nest.

"What are you thinking? What do you mean I'm leaving? This is just preparation for enrolling in the school tomorrow," Dorothy said.

She had nearly made her choice in her heart.

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