Agnes Tachyon had caused trouble again.
Wait. Why did I say “again”?
Kitahara Sota stroked his chin, lost briefly in thought, then decisively sold out Agnes Tachyon without hesitation.
After politely thanking him, Hayakawa Tazuna asked if Agnes Tachyon could have the day off, and Kitahara immediately agreed.
He wasn’t sure what Tachyon would endure today, but recalling her recent concoction—“Pleasure Inhibitor + Sensitivity Amplifier”—he concluded that whatever happened to her, she deserved it.
In fact, it wasn’t only Tazuna who’d been annoyed lately. Over the past few days, multiple trainers had tagged Kitahara in their chat group, begging him to rein in Agnes Tachyon.
They weren’t demanding much. Leaving the pleasure inhibitor on the market was fine.
But couldn’t she at least remove that sensitivity amplifier? If not, trainers would be dropping left and right!
Kitahara sympathized deeply but admitted he couldn’t help. He himself had been Tachyon’s first victim. All he could offer were prayers.
And indeed, over the following days, trainers started disappearing one by one.
Cases of basin fractures at Tracen Hospital surged dramatically, and trainer sightings on campus sharply declined.
Terrifying?
Absolutely.
But even scarier was Agnes Tachyon swiftly launching a follow-up potion to speed up the healing of pelvic injuries.
Despite its exorbitant price and rather questionable “side effects,” it sold out instantly. Tachyon profited handsomely from both ends.
The only downside, perhaps, was the poor, overworked Hayakawa-san, who, already swamped managing transfer students, now had to deal with trainers vanishing or fracturing pelvises. Her fury radiated menacingly whenever she walked around campus.
After shamelessly betraying Tachyon, Kitahara rose as usual, washing up, eating breakfast, then starting his day.
As for Nice Nature—though her treatment had left her with a faint trace of Kitahara’s scent, she’d spent the night alongside Eclipse. Since Eclipse’s aura closely resembled Kitahara’s, it wouldn’t raise suspicion.
Kitahara had also briefly explained Nature’s situation to the team beforehand, carefully omitting certain sensitive details. He simply said he was investigating solutions for her condition and that she might temporarily stay at his place for observation and therapy.
Although the others had given him odd looks, considering his usual eccentric logic, they weren’t overly concerned he’d have ulterior motives.
However, while the others understood, there was one person whose intentions were painfully clear to almost everyone—except perhaps Kitahara himself.
Since her arrival, Nice Nature’s feelings had become blindingly obvious—not least to Grass Wonder, who silently observed her proactive moves.
And Nature had never hidden her intentions. On the contrary, she’d become boldly forward.
Having suffered once from her indecisiveness in the past, this time she wouldn’t retreat no matter what.
And she’d chosen a perfect moment to intervene.
If she’d shown up weeks earlier—when Agnes Tachyon and Tokai Teio were fiercely competing for Kitahara’s attention—she’d likely have been torn apart by their combined forces.
But currently, Tokai Teio was busy training, repeatedly chanting in her head: “I don’t have any improper feelings toward Trainer-san,” and “Once I win the undefeated Triple Crown, I’ll immediately become Trainer-san’s Tantou!”
Agnes Tachyon, meanwhile, thanks to her recent potion mishap, couldn’t even properly speak to Kitahara, let alone fight for his attention.
As for Oguri Cap and Special Week…
Oguri would ignore such matters as long as there was food. And Special Week, after brief consideration, found no reason to oppose, ultimately nodding in silent approval.
Moreover, unlike previously, Nature herself had performed remarkably the morning after her first treatment.
Rather than hiding in embarrassment as she’d done before, she’d gathered her courage, forced down her shyness, and approached Kitahara proactively.
Still, Kitahara didn’t get too optimistic.
After all, last time, Nature had initially seemed fine, yet gradually withdrew into herself as treatment progressed.
And now the treatment had just begun.
Given her current condition, physical maturity, and the intensity required in later treatments, the possibility she might withdraw again was significant.
With these thoughts, Kitahara headed toward the training grounds.
After a casual greeting, everyone—aside from the absent Tachyon—began their training as Kitahara took out his phone, planning to idle until the break when he’d speak with Grass Wonder about improving her running style.
But shortly after training began, he noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye.
Specifically, Agnes Digital seemed distinctly off.
She looked terribly down.
Her steps were sluggish, movements stiff, clearly distracted, and a visible confusion clouded her face.
If this had been any other Uma Musume, Kitahara might not have worried so much.
After all, everyone had their down days. Even Tokai Teio had once arrived late, cranky from a roommate dragging her into an overnight gaming session.
But Digital was different.
For Agnes Digital, the training grounds—packed with Uma Musume—were her sacred paradise. Normally, when training began, her excitement bordered on obsession.
From their first meeting until now, including info gleaned from Tachyon, Digital had always been cheerful—except for a few instances when she’d lost online arguments and sulked briefly while secretly clinging to fellow Uma Musume memorabilia.
Moreover, she’d recently secured a spectacular G1 victory, her finishing sprint video still trending online. By all logic, she should be ecstatic now, yet…
“Did something happen? You seem down.”
Though he disliked meddling, Kitahara couldn’t help worrying, deciding to approach her during a break and sit quietly beside her.
Digital stayed silent a while, her limp tail sprawled lifelessly behind her, eyes dimmed.
“Nothing really, Kitahara-senpai. I’m not facing any particular difficulties. I just…don’t feel good.”
“…I see.”
Kitahara simply nodded, not pressing further, quietly sitting by her side.
A long silence followed.
Then, a soft voice, filled with uncertainty, broke through:
“Kitahara-senpai…am I…unnecessary?”
He raised an eyebrow, not directly contradicting her, instead asking gently:
“Why would you say that?”
Digital hesitated before continuing softly:
“I always claim to love Uma Musume deeply, yet I’m constantly causing trouble for everyone.”
“I have a few skills, yes, and I’ve helped people—but what I offer, others can easily surpass. My so-called help isn’t necessary at all. They’d manage just fine without me…but I keep patting myself on the back.”
“Even that race…I joined it intending to cheer for my senpai. But in the end, I overshadowed them, stealing their last moment in the spotlight.”
“If not for me, those senpai would have had a perfect farewell, and everyone else could’ve enjoyed—”
“Agnes Digital.”
Kitahara abruptly interrupted her.
“…Yes, Kitahara-senpai?”
He turned to face her directly, firmly grasping her shoulders, eyes serious:
“Answer me honestly. After we parted yesterday, did Agnes Tachyon make you drink something strange?”
“…No.”
Digital hesitated slightly, then added quickly:
“I agreed to test a potion for her. If that worried you, I’m really sorry—”
“No, you’re not the one who should apologize.”
Kitahara rose, decisively pulling Digital to her feet, then turned toward Eclipse:
“Let’s go. We’re finding Tachyon.”
…
When Kitahara, accompanied by Eclipse and Digital, arrived at Tachyon’s lab, Tachyon was already being harshly disciplined by Tazuna.
Seeing Kitahara, Tachyon’s eyes lit up, pleading loudly for help. Tazuna’s face showed slight embarrassment, momentarily pausing her punishment.
But just as Tazuna was about to apologize, Kitahara spoke coldly:
“Hayakawa-san, please continue, and don’t hold back.”
Tachyon froze.
Then, a second later, her screams echoed even louder than before.
…
One hour later.
Sore and miserable, Tachyon grimaced painfully in her chair, finally clarifying Digital’s condition.
“I originally intended to create a stronger version of the pleasure inhibitor—one that blocked physical sensations while maintaining consciousness. But I made an error… It ended up blocking positive emotions instead.”
“Right now, anything Digital does that would normally yield positive feedback is blocked, leaving only negative feelings. Without positive reinforcement, she feels even worse…”
Tachyon’s voice grew weaker as she recognized the seriousness. Without any positive feedback, Digital risked serious mental harm, potentially leading to permanent psychological damage—even suicidal thoughts.
“Is there an antidote?” Kitahara asked sharply.
“…No,” Tachyon whispered guiltily. “But it has a time limit. She drank it all in one go, so…”
“How long?”
“…No more than a week.”
Kitahara fell silent momentarily, turning toward Tazuna, who immediately understood.
As Tazuna approached, Tachyon’s terrified screams resumed, louder than ever.
Still punishing Tachyon, Tazuna glanced at Kitahara.
“What’s your next step, Trainer Kitahara? Digital’s current condition could be problematic. If you need help, I can talk to the Chairwoman—”
“No need. You’re busy enough, and besides…”
Kitahara sighed deeply, glancing at Digital, eyes filled with confusion, and recalling certain familiar faces.
“Thanks to a few troublesome ‘little ancestors,’ I’m experienced dealing with situations like this. Leave it to me.”
Speaking of which, those little troublemakers seemed to be somewhere at Tracen now, though none had approached him yet.
Had they forgotten him?
He wasn’t sure, but honestly, that might be for the best.
Drawing on past experiences, Kitahara gently approached Digital, placed both hands firmly on her shoulders, gazed into her eyes, and spoke firmly:
“Listen, Digital. If you truly don’t want to trouble me, then from now on, you’ll obey me completely. Whatever I say, you do. No questions asked. Understood?”
Startled by his seriousness, Digital stammered hesitantly, “But, Kitahara-senpai, I—”
“I said no questions. Understand?”
She bit her lip, silence heavy, before finally nodding softly:
“Yes, Kitahara-senpai.”
Kitahara nodded, satisfied.
Indeed, an artificial troublemaker is easier to handle than those natural-born ones.
Moments later, he gently added:
“Good. Now tell me everything that’s making you unhappy, every single detail. If you’re uncomfortable here, we’ll move somewhere private. I promise no one else will ever know.”
Digital’s eyes widened, trembling softly, speechless.
Kitahara continued earnestly:
“Listen carefully, Digital. You’re important to me. Far from being a bother, the only thing I’m truly afraid of is losing you.”
“So please, trust me. Tell me everything and let me handle it.”
A quiet, trembling voice whispered back.
“Yes, Kitahara-senpai.”
—
This is a fan translation of 人在特雷森，专职摆烂 by 多功能复读机 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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