"Up to and including explosions—because we all know how mischievous a wizard's magic really is. With so many little wizards in Hogwarts, the stray magic you lot give off can manifest something like Peeves. So if we actually made you work in factories, it'd only be reasonable that you'd trigger a small-scale terrorist attack every few days."
"After all, even the Ministry of Magic has those kinds of incidents all the time."
"Second, yes, we could build something like an automated assembly line purely through powerful magic. But I've noticed that many delicate alchemy devices or potions are extremely sensitive to ambient magic. Which means relying on raw magical power alone is also not feasible."
Kasenhis wrote both points on the blackboard.
"And now, I've found a new method—a way to free up a wizard's hands. At first, I called this method mechanical power, but that didn't sound magical enough. So I decided to call it magical transmission instead."
As he spoke, Kasen pulled out a few small gears. "All we need to do is assemble them like this… oh, and don't forget to add a few little details."
Rumble… rumble…
"What on earth just happened?" Professor McGonagall, mid-talk in the Headmaster's office, asked in utter bewilderment.
"Oh, who knows? I don't know what happened, but I do know exactly who made all that noise." Dumbledore shrugged.
Meanwhile, Kasen returned to his office after class and glanced at the translated notes that Grindelwald had already finished. He couldn't help but feel a wave of envy—just how many languages did that old man actually know?
In comparison, Kasen really couldn't compete.
That said, his so-called "talent" for languages was still a headache—basically worthless… even now, at best, he could only manage two and a half languages.
Before he could sit down to properly read through the notes on soul branches, a young wizard appeared in front of him.
"Grab a chair, Arthur… uh, your name always feels a little odd to me, since Mr. Weasley is also called Arthur." Kasen looked up.
"You can call me Morgan too, I'm not picky." Arthur shrugged.
"Arthur's fine. It's not like the two of you ever show up at the same time anyway. So, what is it?"
"Professor, that alchemical puppet you showed us in class—the one made of gears that could understand speech, didn't leak magic, and could perform precise repetitive tasks… what's it for?" Arthur asked directly.
"Automation, of course. Honestly, it doesn't even need that level of precision. That was just me showing off to you lot. In practice, you only need it to handle one or two very simple tasks." Kasen replied casually.
"What I mean is, Professor—what does the wizarding world even need such high productivity for? That's what really confuses me." Arthur asked.
"Mhm, it does have its uses. For example, the wands you all use contain something called a tracer—made from the fibers of the Deathless Tree. These fibers have a very wide magical frequency. Before they're processed, they can cause power plants miles away to malfunction for no reason. That's why they were chosen as tracers, one of the Ministry's means of monitoring you little wizards."
"And extracting those tracers is very difficult. Their magical radiation spreads too widely. Muggle machines can't handle it, and you can't directly use magic either. Because while tracer magic radiates broadly, its intensity is weak. A direct hit from another spell instantly ruins it, leaving behind nothing but ordinary wood fiber."
"So, making those things relies on people slicing the wood into strips with knives, then hammering out the fibers bit by bit. And that's exactly the kind of work magic transmission is meant for."
"It should help people move bricks, so they have the time and energy to write poetry or paint—not jump straight to playing with high-end stuff. That's useless."
After rambling on, Kasen took a sip of water to moisten his throat.
"Then, if you put it that way, wouldn't the people who make a living off producing tracer fibers lose their jobs?" Arthur asked.
"That's just how cruel it is. That's also why we have to keep improving ourselves… Besides, honestly, no one really makes a living producing those things. I've been inside Ollivander's workshop before—that's apprentice work… unpaid apprentice work." Kasen answered flatly.
"...So, if I graduate and want to build a factory... Professor, what kind should it be?" Arthur asked.
"You might not even build a factory. Maybe you'll just buy a farm and grow mangoes." Kasen said offhandedly.
"Huh?" Arthur looked puzzled.
"Oh, nothing, nothing. Your name just reminds me of another friend of mine." Kasen waved it off.
"Someone from the Weasley family?"
"No, he's also a Morgan."
"Alright then, Professor... but what about my question?"
"That depends on how well you study. For example, with Potions—if you could master Severus's techniques, you could even mass-produce Felix Felicis... probably." Kasen said, though he added a layer of caution at the end.
"Professor, why do you sound so... lacking in confidence?"
"Because I don't understand Potions. My first year at Hogwarts, your Professor Snape told me not to waste my limited energy on Potions. So obviously... I don't have much talent in that area." Kasen shrugged.
"So... Professor... does that mean I can understand it this way—learning magical transmission doesn't actually have much use?" Arthur asked.
"If everyone improves, that's collective progress, not just individual progress. It's just that no one's comparing you directly. But in truth, you are improving." Kasen subconsciously fed him a spoonful of chicken soup for the soul.
"I see... so all I can do is make sure I don't fall behind..." Arthur leaned back in his chair with a sigh.
"All I can say is, you're already better than most people." Kasen stood up and encouraged him.
"Mm-hmm... wait, why did I just say mm-hmm?"
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