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

I’d come to pick up my school uniform, but I hadn’t realized what I was truly walking into until I got there.

The first thing that caught my eye was the enormous witch hat—its tall, pointed peak pierced the air, and its wide brim was so massive that when you dropped it on your head, it cast a shadow big enough to swallow you whole.

Rows upon rows of those hats were stacked neatly on shelves, varying in size and shade—from deep, inky blacks to soft twilight grays. Apparently, we got to choose our own, which was both thrilling and a little overwhelming.

A senior girl managing the line handed me a form and a pen. “Fill this out,” she said, “and turn it in to get your uniform processed.”

I glanced down at the paper—four sections, each neatly divided. But I froze at the very first section.

Not because I couldn’t read it—but because I couldn’t decide.

The first choice was about wands.

There were options: short wand, long wand, or a custom job. A blank space followed for notes—apparently, you could request specific details, as long as they weren’t too outrageous.

“Something wrong? Need help?” Bai Yu’s voice came from behind me, warm and curious.

“Yeah… kinda,” I admitted, tapping the first section with my pen. “Any wand recommendations?”

“Your wand will be with you for a long time,” she said, leaning in slightly. ”So it’s worth giving it some serious thought. I’d go with a short wand. Long ones are huge—taller than most people—and a pain to lug around. Plus, unless you’ve got some fancy storage gear, they’re tricky to stash without scuffing them up.”

I nodded. She had a point. I could already picture myself tripping over a staff the size of a broomstick.

“What about the custom option?” I asked, eyeing that blank space.

“Those are for people who double up on weapons training,” she explained. “They’re wands in name, but really they’re more like blades or spears—cold steel jazzed up with alchemical tricks. Swords, axes, you name it, they can make it. What, you thinking of rocking a fancy saber or something?”

She grinned, then leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “I know you boys love swinging swords around. It’s a cool pick if you’re into that.”

I coughed, feeling my face heat up. Okay, yeah, the idea did sound badass. Who wouldn’t want to stroll around with a sleek, custom blade-wand combo?

But then reality hit—I’d barely swung a stick without looking like a total goof. The few “cool” moves I’d taught myself were just for show, not for real.

“Nah,” I said, waving it off. “Let’s keep it simple. Short wand it is, like you suggested.”

“Fair enough,” Bai Yu said with a shrug. “Oh, and don’t skip the notes section. I’ll dictate, you write. If you leave it blank, you’ll just get the basic model—and trust me, when they’re handing out free upgrades, you’ve got to take them.”

“Free upgrades?” My eyes lit up. “I’m in. Let’s fleece them!”

She laughed, and I raised my pen, ready to jot everything down.

“Start with this,” she said, her tone turning more serious. “For the core, request high-quality mana-conductive material—note in parentheses that lower-grade is acceptable, but it must be mana-conductive. For the body, ask for a single piece of mithril-gradient wood, carved whole—add in parentheses that substitutes are okay if they’re out of mithril, but absolutely no glued-together junk…”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down!” I scribbled frantically, trying to keep up.

Bai Yu clearly knew her stuff—she rattled off specs like she’d built wands herself. I had to admit, it was pretty impressive.

“Sorry, got a little carried away,” Bai Yu said, catching her breath. “Next up—the wand core. Your mental affinity’s pretty broad, so… eh, let’s go with a neutral crystal inlay. Keep it simple. Oh, and for the body, make sure they finish it using the coupled inlay technique—fine metal wire threading. The wire should be…”

I scribbled until my hand cramped, filling the notes section to the brim and spilling over the edges of the box.

My eyes drifted to the fine print at the bottom of the form—requests granted within reason—and I frowned. Were these within reason?

I glanced at Bai Yu, hesitant. “Uh, Bai Yu? This is a lot. You really think the school’s gonna approve all this?”

She grinned, completely unfazed. “They give you space to ask—it’s your right to use it. Worst case, they ignore it, and you end up with the same basic wand as everyone else. Best case, they say yes, and you’ve scored big. Either way, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

She winked. “Trust me—I’ve been working the system for years.”

“Huh. Yeah, I can believe that.” I nodded, fully convinced.

“Plus,” she added, “everything I listed ties together. If they greenlight even part of it, the rest has to match for balance. A wand’s no good if the materials clash—too much quality drop-off, and the whole thing’s prone to cracking. You’re in good hands.”

“Alright, then—you’re the boss!” I said, handing over my trust without a second thought.

“Great! Next up are the witch hat and cloak. Not much to customize there—just some basic body measurements.” She grabbed a soft measuring tape from a nearby table and stepped toward me, a playful glint in her eye. “Let me take care of it!”

I smirked, stretching my arms wide. She was acting a little different—more chipper, maybe?—but it didn’t faze me. “Go for it!”

She measured me up quickly, jotting down numbers as she went. I got a rough sense of my stats from it, though, honestly, they weren’t anything to brag about.

“Don’t sweat it,” Bai Yu said softly, leaning in close enough that her breath tickled my ear. “For guys, the witchification process messes with your build way more than it does for girls. You might be scrawny now, but give it time—you’ll fill out. If the hat or cloak stops fitting later, they’ll adjust them here.”

“Got it,” I mumbled, taking some comfort in that.

Form in hand, I moved on to the next section.

Wand? Check. Hat and cloak? Done. Last up was… a badge? Or maybe a pin? Either way, it was a chest piece, something to clip on your front. The form listed a few design options.

“Bai Yu, what’s the deal with this badge? How do I pick?”

“It’s got a spell baked into it,” she explained. “Think of it as a starter kit for newbies. Once you figure out how to channel your magic into it, you can fire off the spell almost instantly. Don’t get your hopes up for big damage, though—it’s basic stuff.”

“And picking one?”

“Style’s up to your taste. As for the spell, same deal—your broad affinity means you’re not locked into anything specific. Pick whatever feels right. They’ll all work about the same for you.”

“Oh. Great.” I sighed. So much for options. My generic affinity really left me with zero edge here.

I skimmed through the designs—nothing flashy, just a few simple patterns—and ticked one at random.

The spell options were just as straightforward: fireball, water surge, wind blast, or earth spike. Four classic moves, like something out of a video game tutorial.

I went with fireball. If I was stuck with the basics, I might as well choose the one that sounded like it packed the biggest punch. Who didn’t love a good blaze, right?

Translator’s note: OK guys, from now on, we’ll release chapters on each Monday, Tuesday, and Friday. Three chapters per week. I know that doesn’t sound much, but we’ll adjust it as more readers join. Also, we’ll release about 12 patreon chapters in April. Thank you for your support.