Entering Mejiro Manor felt exactly like coming home.
Well, phrased that way, it certainly sounded strange—but when Gotham Song stepped into the unchanged great hall of Mejiro Manor, she couldn’t help but feel deeply nostalgic.
She hadn’t stayed here long, yet somehow, whenever she thought of a place she could call “home,” Mejiro Manor was always the first to come to mind.
It was, after all, where her ties to this world began—the very first place she’d settled and slept after arriving here.
Even if, currently, this particular “home” wasn’t exactly safe.
Yet, seeing familiar faces sitting around the dining table stirred unexpected warmth in Gotham Song’s heart.
Mejiro McQueen left an empty seat next to her, while Gotham Song naturally took the guest seat.
The cuisine at Mejiro Manor was indeed luxurious—but what was commendable was its moderation. Even with Gotham Song visiting as a guest, they’d prepared only slightly more than usual.
Of course, while the Manor’s decor was European, complete with scheduled afternoon tea, the main meals remained authentically Japanese—
Setting aside Mejiro Manor’s status as a prestigious Japanese family, would anyone actually choose traditional British cuisine just because they lived like aristocrats?
Surely not.
After dinner came lightly sweetened desserts, another familiar tradition. Usually, the Mejiro sisters would linger here afterward, chatting casually and enjoying family time.
Honestly, Gotham Song found this experience novel.
In her past life, she’d spent the first half fleeing Mejiro Manor, the middle part abroad, and the latter half unable to relax and enjoy such gentle warmth.
Now, with no pressing worries, Gotham Song ate her dessert happily—
After all, whose fault was it that these cakes tasted so good? Besides, she wasn’t on any weight-control plan. Even in her previous identity, she’d always been advised to gain more weight.
Thus, under Mejiro McQueen’s detached yet curious gaze, Gotham Song devoured her dessert with genuine pleasure—eating roughly three or four times the amount McQueen had.
This made Mejiro McQueen quietly shake her head, finally easing her persistent stare.
Although Ruka-nee enjoyed sweets, she wouldn’t eat that much. Definitely not. I guess she really does only look alike.
For some reason, McQueen felt unexpectedly relieved. Without another word, she quietly stood up and stepped directly behind Gotham Song.
“Um… Is there something you need, McQueen-san?”
“Yes. Follow me.”
Gotham Song glanced nervously toward Mejiro Bright, who subtly shook her head.
Bright’s original plan had been to discreetly create opportunities for the two girls—McQueen had become so cold lately that even Bright couldn’t figure out how to help directly. But this wasn’t “creating an opportunity,” this was the opportunity suddenly crashing into Gotham Song head-on!
Seeing Gotham Song’s pleading glance, Mejiro Bright simply smiled reassuringly, waving gently as if saying:
You can do it—I believe in you.
Believe in me, my foot!
But knowing resistance would only cause suspicion, Gotham Song obediently stood, pushed in her chair, and followed McQueen outside.
What’s the worst that can happen? At most…
Sunday Silence, help me!
[So, when there’s trouble, it’s “Sunday Silence,” but otherwise, it’s “old ghost,” huh? Oh, Gotham Song…]
Cough.
Fortunately, McQueen didn’t lead her to her room—nor toward the staircase to the underground chambers.
Yes, Mejiro Manor really had an actual dungeon below. The castle itself was genuinely historic.
As in, ancient European castle historic.
And yes, castles like these typically had genuine underground chambers.
Gotham Song had seen those chambers once, and once had been more than enough.
Thankfully, they instead stepped outside, following a stone path onto the soft, familiar grass.
After all, this was training ground turf. Even in a high-speed, injury-prone country like Japan, the grass at Mejiro Manor was carefully maintained to provide adequate cushioning. Otherwise, even the strongest runners would inevitably break down.
Gotham Song gently tested the familiar ground under her feet, lightly bouncing a couple of times in nostalgic delight—completely under Mejiro McQueen’s silent scrutiny.
The “Black Heiress” said nothing, merely watching.
“So, why did you call me out here, McQueen-san?”
To her surprise, Gotham Song felt strangely calm, especially after confirming they weren’t heading toward the dungeon. She proactively broke the silence, hoping to ease whatever tension lingered. But…
McQueen had apparently inherited the spirit of a certain stoic Sword Princess—conversation was either a swift stab or a decisive kill shot, leaving zero openings.
“You…really resemble someone dear to me. At least, at certain moments.”
“Ah…oh, is that so…?”
Wait, why was this girl suddenly confessing something so personal to a stranger?
Suddenly, an absurd scenario flashed through Gotham Song’s mind:
Ruka-nee, I finally found you. Please never leave me again.
Let’s stay together forever.
Wait, that’s actually terrifying—!
Yet considering McQueen’s—or rather, the entire Manor’s—current state, such words wouldn’t have surprised Gotham Song at all. In fact, aside from Palmer-nee, any of them might blurt something that intense.
Ah, Palmer-nee, you’re truly a warm sun among clouds.
“However, I think I was mistaken,” McQueen continued, abruptly delivering the final blow. “You only resemble her at certain times. Or rather, you just look eerily identical. That’s probably why I’m confused.”
As Sunday Silence burst into mocking laughter in Gotham Song’s ear, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
So, to summarize the current situation clearly—
I’ve been deemed merely a lookalike of myself by someone I deeply care about?
Well, it was good that her true identity wasn’t exposed, ensuring her safety, but somehow, the irony of it made her feel strangely conflicted.
Yet McQueen continued relentlessly:
“So, was it Bright-nee who asked you to approach me?”
Her gaze sharpened intensely, like a dagger piercing soft cheese. Luckily, Gotham Song’s mental defenses were remarkably strong.
“Well…Bright-san did propose that, but I declined.”
Sorry, Bright-san—but for the greater good, you’ll have to take one for the team.
Gotham Song certainly wasn’t holding a grudge over Bright’s earlier nonchalant encouragement—definitely not.
“I don’t enjoy being someone else’s replacement under any circumstances—and neither do you, McQueen-san.”
It was obvious Gotham Song had become close with many from Mejiro Manor. Yet unlike the novels she’d read before reincarnating, the Mejiro sisters—particularly Ardan—had shown a clear distinction.
In their eyes, she was undoubtedly Gotham Song. They firmly believed the person standing here was not their lost sister.
From Ramonu to Bright to McQueen, not a single person had ever demonstrated a dangerous desire to treat her as a substitute.
Guess we’re truly family in every sense—even in rejecting substitutes.
McQueen quietly nodded, satisfied by Gotham Song’s reply, allowing her to continue.
“So, I rejected Bright-san’s proposal, but I had another suggestion.”
“What was it?”
“Not to appear as someone dear to you, but simply as myself, doing whatever I could to help.”
Was this manipulation? Gotham Song didn’t think so.
People didn’t always form relationships naturally. If something sped up closeness, why avoid it? She’d clearly stated she wasn’t Twilight Song—just Gotham Song.
She had come here as a completely new person, offering everything she had.
“Ruka-nee would have agreed instantly,” McQueen suddenly murmured softly, eyes shadowed. “She would have helped us move forward first and only then clarified she wasn’t who we thought she was.”
Wait, what? I’d do that? Hey, what kind of image do you guys have of me—?!
Gotham Song nearly choked, especially as Sunday Silence began another exaggerated pantomime inside her vision—
I’m Gotham’s protector, but Silence? I’m seriously gonna stick a red nose on you someday.
Lost in thought, Gotham Song barely noticed McQueen lowering into a runner’s crouch.
She stepped back nervously, startled by McQueen’s intense gaze.
“W-what?”
“You want to help me as Gotham Song, right? Then you’d better be strong enough.”
“Wait, what does that—?”
“Hah, you’re too slow. Run a lap with me.”
“Oh. Could’ve said that sooner—!”
Giving up on understanding McQueen’s current mindset, Gotham Song prepared herself. Yet somehow, she had the odd feeling that if she looked flustered, the normally aloof horse girl would secretly enjoy it.
It sounded absurd—but her intuition had rarely been wrong. Still, was someone as gentle as Mejiro McQueen really turning sadistic? Beneath it all, she still felt deeply caring, or why bother sharing her true thoughts at all?
“Gotham.”
“Hm?”
“This might sound strange, but…” McQueen stared seriously. “Beware of Ramonu-nee.”
Without another word, McQueen launched into a sudden sprint.
Beware of Ramonu-nee…? Right, although she’s absent right now, I should indeed be wary—wait, did McQueen just start without me?!
Belatedly, Gotham Song dashed after her, certain she’d soon hear:
You’re nothing like her—she would never have hesitated.
With perfect comedic timing, the boomerang labeled “Twilight Song” flew from Paris over the Pacific, smacking Gotham Song squarely in the forehead.
Dammit, Tamamo. Even now, the Grim Reaper still haunts me.
The entire afternoon ended with them chasing each other around the training grounds.
According to “Clown Silence,” Gotham Song’s acting improved slightly, hiding her true strength adequately.
As evening fell, Gotham Song planned to leave Mejiro Manor. Staying overnight felt far too uncomfortable, especially when she learned her guest room was directly beside the Mejiro sisters’ rooms.
Yet curiously, only Palmer earnestly insisted she stay. Even McQueen, who’d just raced her, stayed quiet.
Seeing Gotham Song preparing to depart, Ardan volunteered to escort her home, quietly anxious at the thought of Gotham returning alone by train at night.
After polite farewells, Gotham Song felt Ardan’s gentle grip as they descended the Manor steps.
But just as they stepped down, headlights suddenly flared before them, a car screeching to a stop.
Three people emerged: A pale-faced Symboli Rudolf, a serene Maruzensky supporting Rudolf—and a third figure, previously grim, who instantly sprang to life upon noticing Gotham Song.
At that exact moment, McQueen’s words echoed in Gotham’s ears again:
Beware of Ramonu-nee?
Oh no.
—
T/N: QUICK RUN!!! WHO CARES ABOUT SHOWING YOUR TRUE SPEED
(also i promise uhhh, 25 chaps on monday teehee)
This is a fan translation of 只能活一年了才更要成为传奇赛马娘! by 大渚教 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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