“Run with all I’ve got, huh…”
Recalling the words he’d just said, her footsteps toward the gate grew steadily firmer.
Agnes Tachyon knew why Kitahara Sota had said that.
Simply because, until now, she’d never run at full strength due to her physical condition. To prevent accidents, she’d always held back.
He worried that she might be too used to running conservatively, that suddenly going full force could cause problems, maybe even an accident…
“Such an idiot, Guinea Pig-kun…”
She quietly muttered under her breath.
Just this past week, he’d personally planned her training down to every detail, adjusted her carefully, and confirmed through repeated tests that everything was perfect. Even just before the race, he’d found time amidst his busy schedule to provide her mental support…
He’d done all of that—and still said something so stupid right before the start…
Did he doubt her ability? Or did he think she didn’t trust him?
“‘Leave everything else to me,’ huh… You’re just a guinea pig; isn’t that way too arrogant…?”
With that in mind, she stepped into the gate, carefully setting herself in position.
Her thoughts gradually sharpened, distractions fading away as she stared ahead at the gate, feeling an unprecedented lightness and coordination throughout her body.
She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, feeling as though something flashed briefly by her side.
Then—
Bang.
At the instant the gate opened, she burst forward at astonishing speed, seizing the best leading position in a single stride.
Had the other Uma Musume made a mistake and reacted slowly?
Not at all.
They’d all done well, immediately stepping out when the gates opened, reacting swiftly without anyone lagging behind.
Then why had Agnes Tachyon’s start been visibly quicker?
The answer was simple.
The other Uma Musume waited until the gates fully opened and the sound reached their ears, then reacted, their brains transmitting the signal through their bodies before they actually moved.
But Agnes Tachyon had started moving the instant she saw the slightest twitch of the gate mechanism—almost dashing out just as the gate began to open.
Was that a significant difference? Perhaps not. The gates opened in a mere fraction of a second—barely half a second, even.
But in the world of Uma Musume racing, half a second was enough to change everything.
Seeing Agnes Tachyon’s near-perfect start, some knowledgeable spectators in the stands immediately took notice, whispering excitedly among themselves. A small uproar spread through the audience as they wondered if it was pure luck or some incredible technique she’d mastered.
So, how exactly had Agnes Tachyon managed such an impossibly fast reaction?
She didn’t even know herself.
Just before the gate opened, she’d felt time suddenly slow down dramatically.
Her breathing, her heartbeat, the gentle breeze…
The trembling of opponents, murmurs from spectators, even the mechanical shifting of the gate…
In that brief instant before the start, countless pieces of information poured into her mind, interweaving and calculating rapidly.
Then, at the exact moment she determined the optimal solution, her body simply moved.
After securing the inside lane, Tachyon didn’t rush to accelerate further. Instead, she steadily maintained her leading position, continuously adjusting her breathing and pacing to minimize fatigue.
Perception. Information. Collection. Calculation…
During the first straight, though Tachyon remained in first place, her performance could only be described as “good.”
But as they reached the first corner, the others sensed something was wrong.
Because Tachyon showed no signs of slowing down at all.
Not slowing down into corners wasn’t unusual—after all, anyone could accelerate briefly to maintain speed.
However, Tachyon didn’t just maintain her speed. Her steps remained light, her body merely leaning slightly inward, her posture subtly shifting.
Not every Uma Musume immediately noticed this, of course.
Most assumed she was speeding up just to secure her lead. After some hesitation, they too increased their speed, deciding to follow her.
But after exiting the corner, even these Uma Musume realized something wasn’t right.
Because after the corner—or more precisely, halfway through it—Tachyon actually sped up again.
And upon entering the next straight, she didn’t slow down; instead, she accelerated once more.
Starting a push this early?
Confused, the other Uma Musume hesitated, unsure if they should follow her—after all, the race wasn’t even a third of the way finished yet.
But what they didn’t understand was that Tachyon wasn’t accelerating at random—she was merely just starting to hit her rhythm.
She’d warmed up carefully before the race, loosening her muscles adequately. But since this was her first time ever going all-out, warm-ups alone couldn’t fully prepare her body.
However, too intense of a pre-race routine would consume too much stamina, leaving her exhausted before the race. Thus, she’d opted to adapt herself gradually on the track.
And once she adapted, the gap immediately began to widen.
The tightly packed group behind her began to disperse, distances between each runner increasing.
That wasn’t to say nobody could follow her pace.
In fact, as Tachyon adapted and further accelerated, one other Uma Musume stubbornly followed close behind her, determined to stick tight until Tachyon inevitably ran out of stamina.
But she was destined for disappointment.
Because for Tachyon, once she’d adapted, this current speed was no longer taxing—just her normal running pace.
From here on out, her speed would only increase.
Wind flowed past, blades of grass kicked up in her wake.
Her heart thumped in exhilaration, blood surging easily through her limbs.
Since becoming aware of herself, this was the first time Tachyon had ever experienced such a sensation—light, as if some heavy, invisible chains had finally fallen away from her body.
She didn’t need to hold back or worry about any issues. There was no more heaviness or awkwardness in her body.
Her thoughts were sharper than ever. Every movement was perfectly controlled, every detail perfectly clear. Each step was precisely calculated, as if time itself had slowed down.
Tachyon didn’t understand exactly what was happening, only that she’d reached an unprecedented peak condition, fully immersed in the sheer joy of running.
And meanwhile, in the trainers’ exclusive viewing area, Eclipse—who somehow snuck in unnoticed—heard familiar whispering voices at her ear.
“Impressive, huh? Activating a [Domain] after just over half a year… It looks accidental this time, but with that boy around, she’ll probably stabilize it soon.”
“I don’t sense my ‘Authority’ being triggered, so this probably isn’t a domain related to stamina or willpower.”
“Hmm? Not yours either? I don’t feel anything happening on my side either.”
“Not speed or power either? Then, ████████, perhaps your side…?”
“It’s mine. A [Domain] based on wisdom and technique.”
“Phew, I got worried it was our troublesome little sister’s authority growing strong enough to influence [Domains]. That could’ve caused serious trouble…”
“Not likely. Her growth should be very slow. Besides, we’ve restricted her to this island, cutting off nourishment from the outside, further slowing her growth.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Though, honestly, even though our dear sister might be a bit… well, dangerous, I’m actually curious about what a [Domain] based on her Authority would look like.”
“True. Now that you mention it, I’m curious too. What would a [Domain] based on ‘Love’ even look like?”
“It doesn’t sound very proper at all.”
“Isn’t that even better?”
“Indeed.”
As the three voices spoke, the situation on the track changed once again.
With just one-third of the race remaining, Tachyon—still far ahead—accelerated once again, this time significantly more than before, clearly entering her final sprint.
The Uma Musume behind her clenched their teeth, desperately pushing forward despite feeling nearly drained.
But could they catch her?
In the previous segments, aside from the single Uma Musume who’d tried desperately to cling onto her, even third place had fallen back by about six lengths.
And because those leading usually expended more energy, few had reserves left to truly accelerate or sprint.
This was particularly clear for the one still chasing Tachyon closely.
After sprinting briefly behind Tachyon, her remaining stamina was utterly exhausted. Though she managed to push onward briefly through sheer willpower, she inevitably slowed down around 200 meters before the finish line.
Meanwhile, although clearly exhausted herself, Tachyon showed no signs of slowing, even seeming eager to accelerate further.
Six lengths, seven lengths, eight lengths…
Nine, ten, eleven lengths…
Though she’d led throughout—normally consuming the most energy—it was Tachyon who exploded with the fastest pace in the final meters.
Twelve lengths.
A dominant victory.
When Tachyon crossed the finish line, extreme exhaustion surged through her.
She wobbled slowly back toward Kitahara, smiling brightly like a child bringing home a perfect test score.
“Guinea Pig-kun, I won—!”
In her excitement, she stumbled forward, nearly falling—but instead landed in a warm, familiar embrace.
“Congrats. You won.”
He smiled gently and lifted her off the ground.
A bit heavy, huh…
Feeling Tachyon’s surprising weight in his arms, Kitahara deeply understood why trainers often suffered broken pelvises.
Tachyon blushed furiously, shyly wrapping her arms around his neck, whispering softly in his ear:
“Thank you… Guinea Pig-kun.”
Closing her eyes, she drifted peacefully into sleep.
—
T/N: THE TACHYON PARTICLEEEEEEEE
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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