I finally finished cleaning the whole villa. Took forever.
I was sweaty and exhausted.
The Cleaning Charm was no joke—it didn’t vaporize dirt, just peeled it off. You still had to deal with the ss. The villa looked clean, but after a full sweep, the dust pile was no small thing.
I needed a shower.
No ti like the present. Back in my room, I sorted through my clothes—stuff Bai Yu had picked out for . Thoughtful choices.
It was late afternoon, heading into evening. No way I was going out. Too risky with reconstruction happening nearby. Plus, that big hole in the sky wasn’t fixed yet.
Dinner, though? That was a problem. Work usually covered food, but I forgot to grab bread from the shop. The villa had nothing edible.
Takeout, maybe?
The academy had delivery—I’d seen busy seniors dropping off orders at the bakery.
But would my old phone’s apps work here?
Witch School was cut off from the outside world, especially for freshn. The admission letter was a one-way ticket. No signal on my old phone.
We got academy-issued phones, but could they run regular apps?
Probably not.
The phone’s apps were all tied to the academy system. The app store had so stuff, but the descriptions said they wouldn’t work on campus.
Even the info was locked down? Must be the Do.
But wasn’t the Do busted?
I opened a video app I’d just downloaded. It was laggy, but it worked.
So, the Do’s breach let outside info through?
No way the academy would ss up like that.
If info leaked, it’d be everywhere. Deleting posts wouldn’t cut it.
Before enrolling, I had no clue Witch School took guys. You could dig that up if you tried, but the part about guys turning into girls here? Total secret. That kind of bombshell would blow up online.
Guys dreaming of being girls would lose it—no surgery needed, no side effects, no periods, no pregnancy. For so, that’s a win.
After ssing around, I got the academy’s delivery app installed. Ti to splurge on takeout. Oh, and transfer my asly funds to the new phone.
I grabbed my old phone from the corner. Dead battery.
Great. Was there even a charger in this villa?
I poked around my bedroom, but no luck. No charger in this huge villa? Seriously?
Did everything here run on mana?
Talk about bleak. Maybe Little Work Slave knew sothing—it was the butler, after all.
“Little Work Slave, is there a charging spot in the villa?” I called out.
The bot, docked at its charging pile, whirred to life. “Yes. The Witch School runs on mana, but for newbies’ sake, there are charging ports.”
“Where?” I kept it short.
“I have one. Mana converts to electricity, adjustable to your needs.”
“On you?”
I squinted at Little Work Slave, finally spotting a hidden socket. Who knew?
I grabbed my old phone’s charger from my room and plugged it in right there.
This beat-up phone had been with forever. The new one was shiny, sure, but this one held mories I couldn’t ditch.
“Guess it’s ti to clear out those old diaries,” I muttered. “Say goodbye to the past.”
The phone had my old journals—raw, heavy stuff tucked between the lines. I’d written them to dull the pain, not dwell on it.
Even in this new life, my childhood still hit hard. What did that say?
I wasn’t strong enough inside.
After a bit, the phone had just enough power to turn on.
That familiar startup chi rang out, but it’d take a minute to boot. Old model, slow as heck.
I was patient.
When it finally woke up, notifications flooded the lock screen, making it stutter.
I caught glimpses of familiar nas.
I froze, not wanting to unlock it.
My contact list was short. Barely any classmates. Let’s just say I wasn’t Mr. Popular.
I could guess who was blowing up my phone.
How long had I been gone? Days? Weeks? I’d spent a chunk of ti at Bai Yu’s place.
They knew I was there, but never reached out. Now that I’d vanished, they were spamming ?
Did they check with the Security Bureau? Doubt they could—the Bureau probably didn’t touch the School of Transcendence.
Regular folks couldn’t access a transcendence student’s info, so they likely had no clue I was at Witch School.
I opened the phone and pulled up the chats.
Private ssages, family group—texts from my dad, mom, even my little brother.
Since when did they care this much?
I scrolled through my contacts, landing on hers. My girlfriend—or ex-girlfriend, I guess. Her chat sat silent in the list.
A tiny part of wondered what I’d do if she ssaged . That’d be a headache. How do you keep up a relationship that’s already dead?
Did we even have a real thing? I could barely rember. Back then, I just wanted to try it out, see what campus romance was like.
And here we are.
Her grades were about the sa as mine. So how’d she skyrocket to the top?
No clue.
Was it when we zoned out in class together? Or when we were off doing other stuff? Maybe she was just a genius—acing tests without even trying.
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