Is It Weird for a Guy to Apply to a Witch School?

Bai Yu’s phone was undeniably cool, but I wasn’t shameless enough to ask to mess around with it. For one, it probably had her personal stuff on it. For another, I hadn’t even tapped into transcendence yet—could I even make it work?

Still, I just had to hold out a little longer. We were almost at the academy, and if Bai Yu was right, they’d hook me up with my own phone soon enough. I’d take her word for it and roll with that.

“Almost there, Yuehan,” Bai Yu said suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Get your admission letter out and hold onto it.”

“Huh? Oh, sure.” I fumbled a bit, not totally getting why, but I did as she said and pulled the letter from my bag. “What’s this for, exactly?”

“We’re about to pass through the Dome,” she replied, keeping it short and sweet. “If you’re not a Witch School student, you need that letter in hand to get through the barrier.”

“Uh…” My brain stalled for a solid few seconds before it clicked. Ignoring the parts I didn’t quite grasp, she was basically saying this letter was my ticket into Witch School. Some kind of fancy screening trick, I guess?

Bai Yu didn’t seem in the mood to elaborate, so I let it drop. Instead, I glanced down at the letter in my hands.

Back when I got it, I’d barely skimmed it before Bai Yu dragged me onto the train. Now that I was actually reading it, there it was in black and white: “Entry to Witch School requires the student to personally hold their admission letter. Without an academy escort, proceed to the designated station for further instructions…”

And on it went, a whole chunk of text about how to get in. Geez. If Bai Yu hadn’t been here, I’d have been wandering around lost for who-knows-how-long.

My eyes drifted across the train cabin to the other two. Deng Xiaonan was over there, casually stuffing an admission letter into that knocked-out kid’s hand—like she’d had it ready to go all along.

“Witch School does this every year,” Bai Yu said with a little smirk, catching my stare. “We draft admission letters for genius kids from other academies. If they didn’t pick us—or flat-out don’t want to come—those letters get tossed into the ‘snatching toolkit.’ No big deal.”

So that’s how Witch School rolls?

“And the other schools do it too,” she added before I could even catch my breath. Then, with a sly grin, she tacked on, “Of course, they all copied us. Shameless, right?”

Shameless? Talk about a double standard! Who’s the real shameless one here?

I didn’t even have the energy to call her out. My image of Witch School was already crumbling—it was starting to feel less like a prestigious academy and more like some sketchy operation.

But whatever. I wasn’t here for the vibes. I wanted transcendence, plain and simple. Where I got it didn’t matter.

I just hoped the place wasn’t some cutthroat survival-of-the-fittest jungle. I’m not built for that. Scheming? Outsmarting people? My brain’s too straightforward—and too short-circuited—for any of that.

All I wanted was a chill spot where a slacker like me could coast by.

I took a few deep breaths to steady myself and glanced out the window.

In the distance, a sprawling, high-tech city shimmered into view. Whatever this “Dome” thing Bai Yu kept mentioning was, I’d find out soon enough.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I flicked on my Psi-vision.

Back in the day, that trick used to be nothing but a curse. I couldn’t control it—couldn’t shut it off—and it wrecked my life.

The stuff I saw didn’t line up with anything I knew, smashing my worldview to bits and chewing through what little sanity I had left.

It took time, but I eventually figured it out. Learned how to toggle it off, how to filter out the chaotic, nonsensical flood of info when it was on.

Now, with Psi-vision active, the world looked like it had a weird Instagram filter slapped over it.

Not the usual deal where sunlight bounces off stuff and hits my eyes. No, this was different—like everything was screaming its existence at me in abstract bursts of data, and my brain was just the unlucky receiver drowning in it all.

Distance, matter, energy—they weren’t shapes or colors anymore; they were concepts, slamming into my head in a way I had to wrestle into sense.

It’s the kind of thing you don’t just get used to overnight. You’ve got to cross-check it against what your regular eyes see, piece by piece.

Imagine a blind guy who’s never seen a thing his whole life suddenly getting sight. Everything’s a shock, frying his nerves, forcing him to rebuild how he understands the world from scratch. That’s what Psi-vision felt like at first.

Lucky for me, I’m transmigrator, or whatever you call someone who’s jumped worlds. If I’d been born here, I’d probably have spent my life locked up in a psych ward, babbling about stuff no one else could see.

Without a “normal” view to compare it to, I’d never have sorted out what’s the surface world and what’s the inner one.

Right now, with Psi-vision cranked up, the city ahead started warping into something I couldn’t wrap my head around.

The usual outlines of buildings got buried under layers of raw, messy info—way beyond what I’d call “normal.” But I didn’t care about the skyscrapers. My eyes locked onto something else: a massive, translucent dome, like a giant bowl flipped upside down, pulsing with energy.

And our train was barreling straight for it.

I braced myself—we were gonna crash! But then I noticed something off. The city under that dome… it felt doubled, like two versions of it were stacked on top of each other. The weird overlap yanked my attention hard.

Is this the Dome Bai Yu kept talking about? The one over Magicaeopolis? And if so… is Witch School inside it? Like, in a whole different space?

The thought hit me like a truck, but before I could process it, the train slammed into the Dome.

That shimmering wall swallowed us up, inch by inch. In the blink of an eye, it washed over me.

I flinched, my body tensing on instinct, but nothing happened—no impact, no pain. Just a shiver racing down my spine and goosebumps prickling my skin, proof I hadn’t imagined it.

I glanced at the admission letter in my hand. For a split second, it felt like something from it had wrapped around me, cocooning me as we passed through.

Then—wham—the train screeched to a halt, and my forehead smashed into the seat in front of me. Ouch.

“We’re here,” Bai Yu said, calm as ever. She stood up, ready to roll, like this was just another Tuesday.

Deng Xiaonan, meanwhile, was still fussing over her sleeping genius, making sure he’d get to the academy in one piece. Her problem, not mine.

I stumbled off the train, rubbing my head, and froze. The “train” I’d been riding? It wasn’t even a train anymore.

The front engine was gone—just POOF, vanished. All that was left was our car, and even that looked different from what I’d climbed into earlier.

“Okay, look,” Bai Yu said, catching my baffled stare. “Witch School and Magicaeopolis aren’t technically in the same space. You really think a single train’s gonna straddle two dimensions? Even overlapping ones? Nope.”

Her explanation was short and sweet, pulling me out of my spiral before I could overthink it. Fair enough—I wasn’t about to argue with interdimensional logistics.

I shook it off, grabbed my suitcase, and hustled to catch up with Bai Yu. Time to check in at the platform and figure out what came next.

Translator’s note: The way he described how the inner world shocked ML… It was fascinating. The author was much better at writing than most people on Chinese novel platforms, and I mean, all platforms.