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

Walking outside, I felt the weight of my bottled-up emotions start to lift.

I’d been stuck in my own head, but that was unavoidable—emotions pile up, and no one can fully suppress them. I’d been holding onto things too tightly.

Time to embrace my new life and savor this rare downtime before the semester starts.

The street shops didn’t have anything jaw-dropping yet, but the variety gave me a thrill of choice.

Laughing at my own lack of worldliness, I decided to pick a place at random for a surprise.

I’d count to the eighth shop, keeping my eyes down to build anticipation.

It wasn’t exactly mealtime, but the aroma of food filled the air. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel·fiɾe·net

“Sixth shop… oh, that braised pork knuckle smells amazing. Too bad, not meant to be… Seventh shop… a buffet? In a transcendence world? Aren’t they afraid someone with a weird ability will eat them out of business? Next one—ooh!”

I rubbed my hands, excited for what the eighth shop might hold.

Money was tight, but today was worth splurging for.

“Huh?”

I stopped. The path led to an alley, a sharp contrast to the main street.

There were stalls inside. I hesitated—stick to the main road or check it out?

Good food often hid in quiet alleys. Not sure if that held true here, but I was curious. I had time.

I glanced at the eighth shop—a noodle place. The steamed buns looked tempting, but I wasn’t feeling it for dinner.

So, I turned toward the alley, chasing cheap, hidden gems.

Inside, I found stalls run by women old enough to be my grandma.

Could students’ families live here?

That was my first thought.

“Oh? A freshman?” one said, her face lighting up with a smile that made me shy.

I hadn’t planned to eat here yet, but their warmth pulled me in.

How’d she know I was a freshman? My clothes didn’t scream newbie.

“Haha, your mana core’s still restless—classic freshman sign,” she said, reading my mind. “Come, chat with us. I’m treating you to something tasty for free.”

“Alright… thanks, ma’am,” I replied.

I couldn’t resist the free food and stepped forward. It was just chatting with them, anyway. They must be bored here, right?

“No ‘ma’am’ stuff—we’re young at heart. Call us seniors,” one old lady interjected, smiling despite her mock annoyance at my word choice.

“Seniors?” I blinked, stunned. They were seniors?

The revelation hit me like a bolt. I wouldn’t have guessed, but it made sense. Tang Yihan had mentioned graduated students could stay in the academy.

These ladies stayed here into old age? Wild.

“Don’t mind her. Ma’am’s fine,” another said, chuckling. “But yeah, we’re your seniors—by who-knows-how-many years.”

“Ma’am it is,” I said, sticking with it. Calling them seniors felt too weird.

They didn’t mind and dove into chatting about the outside world. They hadn’t left the academy in ages, just stayed put.

During the talk, I learned they could’ve used spells to freeze their looks, but chose not to. Without becoming transcendence witches, their lifespans were longer than normal but still finite. Aging kept going.

They didn’t bother maintaining youthful appearances. Their mindset had aged with their bodies—this was who they were meant to be.

Even the one who’d pushed for “senior” didn’t argue.

Maybe she was a spunky, proud type in her youth? Hard to imagine.

They’d saved enough to live comfortably until the end. The snacks they sold were unique to their hometowns.

They’d been dormmates, they said. None graduated as transcendence witches—just trainees who barely finished. They’d even started a food club back in the day, but it fizzled out. Now, running these little stalls was their way of passing the time.

My hands were stuffed with snacks they eagerly handed over. If I hadn’t been firm, they’d have piled on more.

I insisted on paying. First meeting, sure, we bonded over chat, but I wasn’t that close. They refused money for the first item, but I paid for the rest. Dirt cheap, like they were selling at cost. I felt a bit guilty.

Looking back, it hit me hard.

They were once trainees, like me. Anyone who didn’t become a transcendence witch was just a trainee.

I recalled Bai Yu’s words: during witchification, we lose the ability to have children. These older women had no kids to care for them.

In their youth, they could’ve had sweet romances, lifelong partners. But after bonding with a mana core, that seemed to slip away.

Thinking about it, Witch School was kind of terrifying, too. Especially for guys. Witchification warped your mind, forced changes on your body. The academy built a mini-society of witches, pushing guys to watch themselves morph into something that matched their new orientation.

You either accepted it or broke free—those were the only paths. Visionary academies probably had plenty of seniors with twisted personalities.

But the seniors I’d met were gentle. So far, Witch School has left a good impression.

Translator’s note: I’m not having children so that was basically the life I’ve been dreaming of. Most of my besties have decided not to have kids, actually. Someday when we’re all retired, maybe we’ll find a place and start a small business to pass time, too. What about you guys?