Slacking Professionally at Tracen [213]

After that, with new allies joining in, Kitahara’s situation improved significantly.

Since everyone was from Tracen’s main campus—Trainers and Umamusume alike—the conversation naturally gravitated toward Tracen and Umamusume-related topics.

This lively yet specialized conversation created an invisible barrier, making it hard for outsiders to intrude, greatly reducing everyone’s social burden—especially Kitahara’s.

Of course, this was still a social event. Not everyone had ulterior motives; most were there simply for networking, introductions, and building connections.

So, as the conversations flowed, Kitahara deliberately steered discussions toward topics like races, training, or related industries.

This allowed attendees from Umamusume families to contribute naturally.

Those who genuinely engaged in the discussions typically didn’t have hidden agendas. Meanwhile, those who did found themselves constrained, either joining the serious conversations or quietly backing off.

Stable.

Initially, Kitahara had only devised this strategy to lighten his own workload.

But after putting it into practice, he realized something unexpected: there were quite a few attendees who could genuinely engage him on professional topics.

Some were even more knowledgeable than current Tracen Trainers, offering insights he’d never considered before.

Thinking about it, this was only logical.

As previously mentioned, many retired Tracen Trainers chose positions with influential Umamusume families after retirement—and the more skilled they were, the more valued they became.

Without the responsibility of managing a Tantou, they had more time for theoretical studies.

Umamusume families, with their ample resources, naturally provided deeper academic foundations over time than average outside Trainers.

While this theoretical expertise couldn’t match the seasoned Trainers with decades of experience at Tracen’s main campus, it still outclassed most active Trainers, especially in academic discussions.

In fact, academic exchanges between Trainers had always been a quiet but fixed component of this early-year gathering.

It just rarely drew attention, overshadowed by matchmaking and recruitment, often happening quietly in corners with few participants.

But today’s “technical exchange” suddenly became quite prominent.

With the event’s “main cast” already gathered, Kitahara’s group naturally attracted attention.

When he drew in other active Trainers from Tracen, those interested in professional exchange, who cared little about matchmaking drama, turned their gaze toward them as well.

Initially, it was manageable.

But as their discussions continued, some seasoned Trainers started sensing something unusual.

That young man named Kitahara… he actually knew his stuff.

To casual observers, Kitahara’s words might have seemed ordinary—similar to the lectures veteran Trainers often gave.

But those truly knowledgeable veteran Trainers grew increasingly serious the more they listened.

Especially as the discussion heated up. With no interruptions, Kitahara got caught up in the momentum, gradually revealing genuine expertise.

And to be fair, it wasn’t entirely Kitahara’s fault.

Kitahara never minded sharing his training insights—a well-known fact at Tracen’s main campus.

The issue was: although Kitahara himself was open, his team’s atmosphere was… intimidating.

When his team was small, other Trainers could still chat with him occasionally. But as his team grew larger…

Forget casual chats—even running into him around campus became a situation most Trainers actively avoided.

Now, Kitahara had willingly initiated a conversation, with no intimidating Umamusume nearby.

Seeing Kitahara engage openly, even the Trainers who’d failed to escape began speaking more freely, fueling Kitahara’s enthusiasm further.

Then, as time passed, even observers who’d kept their distance couldn’t hold back, eventually joining the discussion.

Other onlookers—seeing veteran Trainers and renowned retired Umamusume gathering around—also gravitated toward the group out of curiosity.

Amidst all this, Kitahara—deeply absorbed in conversation—failed to notice the growing crowd around him.

He sensed it was getting noisier but didn’t pay it much mind, continuing to speak and unwittingly becoming the center of attention.

The original “main cast,” however, soon noticed something amiss—especially when they saw how many people had gathered around Kitahara—and tried to subtly warn him.

They didn’t resent Kitahara for drawing attention. In fact, they’d prefer it if he drew all attention away from them entirely.

But the issue was that while they didn’t want attention themselves, they knew Kitahara disliked being in the spotlight. For unclear reasons, he seemed especially resistant to dealing with Umamusume families.

Clearly, Kitahara had gotten carried away and hadn’t noticed the developing situation, while they remained alert.

For some of them, yes, Kitahara’s attention-grabbing validated their good taste.

But too much exposure could also bring unwanted competition. In fact, shortly after the discussion began, several Umamusume had already tried approaching Kitahara, only to be quietly blocked.

Still, despite their awareness and attempts to rein him in, they were constrained by circumstances.

By the time they realized the situation had gone off the rails, Kitahara was already deeply immersed.

Ultimately, they couldn’t bring him back. They could only watch helplessly as the crowd continued to grow and excitement surged.

“Look on the bright side,” Sirius shrugged lightly. “At least nobody’s bothering us now, right?”

“…That’s all we can do.” Rudolf sighed softly, watching Kitahara in the distance, still unaware of the commotion he’d caused.

Then, as if remembering something, she picked up her purse, took out her phone, and began scrolling carefully.

“That’s strange…”

Rudolf murmured under her breath, catching Sirius’s attention.

“What? Something happen?”

“No. Nothing happened… Or rather, that’s exactly what’s strange…” Rudolf frowned. “You remember, don’t you? That old woman said I’d be doing a blind date today. But up until now, she hasn’t sent a single message…”

“Maybe she plans to call you tonight? There’s still the evening ball.”

“I doubt it. Given that old woman’s personality, she wouldn’t give me this much room to breathe…” Rudolf closed her phone, thinking carefully. She felt a faint unease but couldn’t pinpoint its source. “Sirius—no messages on your end either?”

At Rudolf’s question, Sirius checked her phone.

The same situation as Rudolf’s: plenty of New Year greetings but no word about matchmaking details.

“Nothing here either…”

Sirius found it odd, but unlike Rudolf, she didn’t seem bothered.

“Is today National Forgetfulness Day or something? Why did all these old ladies suddenly lose track of their plans…? But if they forgot, even better. I wasn’t looking forward to matchmaking anyway.”

Forgotten…?

It did seem the simplest explanation, yet Rudolf still felt uneasy.

Had she overlooked something important?

Staring thoughtfully at her reflection on her phone screen, Rudolf drifted into quiet contemplation.

—

T/N: heuheuehu made an oopsie

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