‘Forced to stop being human.’

When Jiang Cha landed perfectly from a flawless rhythmic gymnastics move—without even bending her knees to cushion the impact—those words popped into her head.

But, well, it wasn’t so bad.

This feeling of being able to do anything.

“Could you give me a quick explanation of what’s going on, senior...?”

Jiang Cha had already learned quite a bit from Sinan and Helen’s brief conversation.

First, according to what she knew, “junior” was what an upperclasswoman at a school called a younger girl. So she could infer that this place was probably some kind of school.

If it was a school, then although she still couldn’t let her guard down completely, these two people she’d met so far were probably teaching assistants or something similar, with a duty to guide new students.

‘If it’s useful, then squeeze every last bit of value out of it.’

Jiang Cha didn’t think there was anything wrong with that thought. She turned to Sinan with a sweet, adorable smile and asked in a gentle voice.

From the way the woman named Helen had acted, Jiang Cha could tell she was probably good-looking. So naturally, she ought to make use of that. It seemed to be an instinct built into her body, and it was useful, so Jiang Cha had no intention of deleting it from her subconscious.

“Ah... It’s a bit complicated to explain. To save time, let’s talk while we walk.”

Sinan’s fair cheeks flushed a little. Looking somewhat bashful, she turned and lifted the security door whose lock she’d kicked in. A dainty little footprint remained in the middle of the other side.

‘What kind of freakishly strong girl is she...?’

Jiang Cha glanced at the footprint, then lowered her eyes and pretended she hadn’t seen it.

“Anyway, first of all, welcome to Aislen Witch Academy, Jiang Cha.”

Sinan walked out on her own. Jiang Cha hurried after her, giving a slight nod, a warm and humble smile still on her lips.

Sinan wasn’t looking at her, but in a world this surreal, who knew whether the senior in front of her had eyes in the back of her head? It was worth paying attention to even a small detail like this.

—Jiang Cha herself could gather information from every direction, with 360-degree coverage.

“I don’t know anything about your background either, so don’t ask me about that. You can ask your instructor later, or look it up in the academy’s archives yourself.”

“I’m Qu Sinan. I’m from Hua Country, and I’m a fifth-year senior.”

Qu Sinan’s explanation was all over the place. She clearly wasn’t used to guiding new students, and just said whatever came to mind.

But that wasn’t a problem for Jiang Cha, whose ability to organize information had become exceptionally strong since she woke up. She easily sorted out and analyzed the useful details, storing them in the memory loft she’d just built.

The Witch Academy was founded on May 21, 1978, by Meilin, the first Grand Witch, and had continued to grow ever since.

Its goal was to train combat Witch squads capable of handling calamities, as well as to provide shelter for Witches.

Jiang Cha was curious about what exactly the term “calamity” meant, but Qu Sinan hadn’t explained it in detail, so she didn’t rush to ask. She simply tucked the question away in the back of her mind. According to her senior, they’d be learning about it in class anyway.

“I’m taking you to the academy’s testing facility. They can get a basic reading of your innate magic there, and measure your magic capacity too, so they can decide which class to put you in.”

Qu Sinan spoke slowly as they walked down a corridor made entirely of transparent glass.

“Innate magic? Can Witches only learn one kind of magic?”

Jiang Cha asked curiously.

“Not at all. Witches can learn all kinds of magic, but most of it is meant to support their innate magic. For example, my innate magic is a type that strengthens my body, so I learn some long-range attack spells, along with various kinds of support magic.”

Qu Sinan shook her head.

“Innate magic uses mana far more efficiently than ordinary magic. According to the Research Department, its mana efficiency ranges from eighty to ninety-eight percent. Ordinary magic can only reach fifty percent at most. At the upper end, that’s almost twice the efficiency.”

Mana efficiency. Jiang Cha silently made a note of the term.

There was no need to say more about how important innate magic was. The fact that it was so much more efficient than ordinary magic was reason enough.

Even a complete amateur like Jiang Cha could figure that out.

“All right, let’s get you tested first.”

Qu Sinan pushed open an old-fashioned door etched with intricate patterns and glowing faintly blue, then walked straight through.

Jiang Cha hurried after her. A weightless, disorienting sensation swept over her as she entered an environment completely unlike reality. Her brain’s information-gathering ability instantly went into overdrive, nearly knocking her unconscious.

Luckily, the transfer lasted less than a second. Before Jiang Cha could gather much information, that strange space spat her out. Her head spun for a moment, then quickly cleared.

“Looks like you have pretty good spatial adaptability, junior. At least we don’t have to worry about you getting transfer sickness.”

Qu Sinan, meanwhile, seemed completely unaffected. She smiled as she spoke.

“It doesn’t feel all that great.”

Jiang Cha shook her head. After getting rid of the last bit of dizzy nausea, she finally had time to look around this so-called testing research institute.

Huh!?

“Senior, can I ask what year it is?”

Jiang Cha paused for a moment, then asked with a helpless sigh.

“May 30, 2121.”

Qu Sinan looked at Jiang Cha strangely, but then remembered that her junior had lost her memory, and immediately understood.

“...”

Jiang Cha’s common sense told her that “yesterday” should have been May 29, 2021.

‘Looks like I’ll have to question how reliable this common sense of mine is.’

She put aside the fact that she’d just leapt a full hundred years through time. She had no way to find the answer right now, and thinking about it would only waste time.

Instead, she turned her attention back to this thoroughly sci-fi “magic research institute.”

Yes, “magic research institute.” What a magical-realist name. By Jiang Cha’s common sense, it was practically a violation of the materialist worldview—an insult on the level of using it as toilet paper.

But after experiencing the wonders of magic for herself, Jiang Cha no longer found it strange.

After all, “material” in materialism referred to objective reality. If magic existed in reality, then it naturally fell within the bounds of materialism.

The institute wasn’t exactly cyberpunk, and there were none of the potion cauldrons or magic circles she associated with Witches, either. Instead, it was filled with silver-white machines that glowed blue, along with precise test tubes and measuring cups.

A young woman in a white lab coat was busy nearby, boiling slices of green plants in a beaker. They gave off a blue magical aura.

‘Those must be magical plants?’

“Molin! You’re slacking off and drinking tea again!”

“Oh~! My darling Sinan, I swear I’m not slacking off. It’s lunch break right now, you know. Lunch break.”

‘Fair enough~’

Jiang Cha had already tossed the “common sense” file into the trash in her memory loft.