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

“Yup,” the senior said, nodding. “Right now, your brain power’s too weak to mess with magic, let alone hand a mana core to someone else. Plus, you’ve only got one to work with.”

“So, how do I get good at moving magic around?” I asked.

I wasn’t letting it go—kept digging for more. She said my mental energy was the holdup, I guess that meant I just needed to grind harder at meditating or something like that.

“No rush,” she said, brushing me off. “Once classes start, your teacher’s got you covered in the first lesson. Figuring out how to tap into magic? That’s, like, Trainee 101—the bare basics.”

She didn’t spill the details, just passed the buck to some prof I hadn’t met yet.

“Okay… but can I get a preview of what they’ll teach?” I asked, leaning in, still fishing for scraps.

“Duh, meditation,” she said, like it was a no-brainer. “What’s better than that for leveling up your mental game?”

I kept prodding, and she didn’t skip a beat—though she paused, like something clicked, and started explaining again.

“Oh, wait, hang on—I should clear this up. The meditation I’m talking about? Not that basic ‘theoretical’ stuff you’re used to. First class, your teacher’s gonna hit you with the witch-special: a meditation trick that turns your messy mental energy into solid threads. That’s when you can start playing with magic.”

I nodded, kinda getting it, kinda not. So, once school kicked off, I’d unlock this new meditation upgrade. Sounded manageable. I mean, I was pretty solid at the theoretical subjects before I was a trainee—how tough could the witchy version be?

“Thanks for breaking it down,” I smiled at her.

“No biggie. Anything else?” Her tone shifted a bit, like my question marathon was starting to wear on her.

I took the hint—keep going, and I might annoy her. It was early, she was stuck registering newbies, not running a personal FAQ session.

“Nope, that’s it—thanks again!” I shot her a quick grin, then bailed before I pushed my luck too far.

Didn’t go far, though—just parked myself in a quiet corner nearby.

That talk had dropped some major info. Like the Witch School app—loaded with stuff I’d need to figure out solo.

And magic? Tied to this new meditation deal.

Oh, and if I heard right, mana cores could be passed around?

So, the first core newbies get—like mine—come from a senior handing it over. I’d checked mine with Psi-vision before, and it’s this tiny powerhouse, full of magic that seems to refill slowly and steadily.

If I can trade them…

Wait—did that mean some rich jerk could stockpile a bunch of mana cores? In my head, more cores meant more magic, and magic was the fuel for transcendence power. Wasn’t that whole scene just a show of who had got the biggest pile?

It was like a mana bar in a game—the bigger it is, the more spells you could toss out, the stronger you got.

But how do they measure strength in the transcendence world? Just counting cores? Nah… probably not that straightforward, right? Too simple.

I shook off the crazy ideas. Daydreaming wasn’t gonna solve anything—real answers would come in class, most likely.

Teachers had to hit the basics sometimes.

For now, I needed to worry about my bank account. If I didn’t snag a decent gig soon, I’d be eating dirt.

Even something easy would work—flexible hours, pay per shift. I was at Witch School to crack transcendence, not to hustle a side job just to eat.

Gotta keep my head in the game.

Of course, making cash right now was a big deal too. I wondered if the academy’s got some kind of broke-student fund? Didn’t I hear something about guys getting a stipend when they enroll?

Eh, I’d figure it out later.

I flipped open the Witch School app and started messing around, digging into the details.

The senior had mentioned class assignments and schedules, but when I checked, it was all grayed out—labeled “unassigned.”

Made sense, though. School hasn’t started yet. They probably didn’t even know how many newbies’d roll in—especially with all the “kidnapped” ones thrown in.

They couldn’t just skip logging the kidnapped kids into the roster and sorting them into classes... right?

Seeing no updates there, I switched tracks and jumped into the task system. What kind of gigs were floating around in this thing?

The app broke everything into sections, and the “official” academy tasks popped up first. I figured the top one would be that volunteer gig guiding newbies—nope, it was kidnapping. A “grab THIS kid” mission!

It was pinned right at the top, the only one with that VIP status. Tons of people had already accepted it, but it wasn’t marked done yet. Who’s such a hotshot they’d get this kind of attention?

I tapped it open. The target? Some newbie named “Tan Han.”

From the bits of info I had, she was a total genius—the nation’s top scorer, the only one to nail the entrance exam with a perfect score. A perfect score! Even with my fuzzy take on test rankings, I knew that was insane—like, once-every-100-years insane.

No wonder her name sounded familiar, even if I’d never met her. The last perfect score was forever ago. Of course, Witch School would put out an APB to snag her.

No point fantasizing—this job’s way above my pay grade. I’m a freshman too—how am I supposed to “recruit” her?

Back to the hustle. I needed a steady part-time job—ideally something near my dorm or the main teaching area. Convenience is everything.

After scrolling for what felt like forever, I spotted “Newbie District” in a listing. Wait—my dorm’s in that area, right?

That’s basically next door!

I clicked it. A bakery job—hiring apprentice clerks. It’d been posted a while, but hardly anyone had jumped on it. Maybe they forgot to pull it down?

Whatever. Worth a try. I’d call and check it out. Worst case, I’d get some practice talking to random people.

Plus, learning to bake? That’d be awesome—I could cook stuff up in the dorm kitchen. I’d only seen it once, but letting that big villa’s setup go to waste felt wrong.

No time to waste. I punched in the number, heart beating a little faster as it rang.

“Hello? Hi—are you calling about the job?”

The voice picked up the second it connected—sharp and to the point. Sounded like this line was just for applicants.

“Yeah, uh, are you still—”

“Still hiring,” they cut in. “If you’re interested, swing by the spot I’ve got listed for an interview.”

“Cool… thanks so much!” I said, keeping it nice.

“No trouble. Bye.”

Click. They hung up quick—super quick. I stared at my phone. This was for real, right?

The senior had said I could report scams and even get paid if anything shady went down. That boosted my confidence.

What’s the risk in giving it a shot? Not like I’d lose an arm over it.

Translator’s note: Yeah! Yuehan got a job!