Slacking Professionally at Tracen [211]

Be a little more intimate.

Before Kitahara fully grasped what that meant, Sirius’s hand reached out, heading straight for his—about to clasp his palm, and then—

Smack.

Just as Sirius’s fingers brushed Kitahara’s, another hand flashed in from the side and firmly seized her wrist.

“…Sirius, what exactly are you doing?”

Rudolf had turned her head at some point. One hand gripped Sirius’s wrist, and a strange note had slipped into her normally composed expression.

“Didn’t I just say it?”

Staring down at the hand restraining her, Sirius Symboli clicked her tongue softly. She struggled briefly but couldn’t break free, so she spoke again.

“I’m not like you. You might be fine enduring that dull, fake politeness, but I can’t.”

“Instead of repeating the same tedious formalities over and over, it’s better if this guy and I act a little closer to make them give up outright. At least then I won’t have to waste so much breath.”

After hearing her, Rudolf frowned slightly.

“Sirius. I know you’re unhappy, but we’re here representing the Symboli family. Everyone around us is from influential houses. You need to watch your image…”

“It’s just a handshake. What does that have to do with image?”

Sirius didn’t retreat. Instead, she flicked her eyes toward several spots around them.

“If you don’t believe me, look for yourself.”

“Over there, there, and even there—forget ‘intimate,’ some people are openly hugging and making out, and nobody’s saying a thing.”

“And I’m hardly being excessive. It’s just a handshake to get them off my back. I don’t see the problem.”

“So, what do you say, ‘Emperor’?”

To be fair, Rudolf didn’t disagree with Sirius’s logic.

Honestly, Rudolf herself had it even worse than Sirius—thanks to her own popularity, she was dealing with even more visitors and invitations.

She didn’t show it outwardly, but Rudolf had long been fed up herself, burying her irritation for the sake of her “Emperor” image.

After Sirius’s words, Rudolf even felt tempted—wondering if she might try something similar herself.

But that wasn’t the real issue.

The real issue was that in Rudolf’s understanding, Sirius Symboli might be brash and impulsive most of the time, but she typically had a clear sense of boundaries.

Sirius’s reasoning sounded perfectly logical. Yet from what Rudolf knew of her, even in a worse situation, Sirius wouldn’t resolve it this way.

If anything, she was likelier to just storm off.

But right now, Sirius wasn’t even genuinely angry—she was merely irritated—yet she hadn’t hesitated to act…

Rudolf couldn’t say exactly what Sirius was thinking, but one thing was certain:

Sirius’s attitude toward Kitahara was becoming… abnormal.

This is bad. If this continues, things could get messy. Maybe I should find a chance to talk it out clearly with her…

And while Rudolf was considering this, Sirius was staring at the hand gripping her wrist without any sign of releasing, her own gaze shifting slightly.

So something really is off with this woman…

Sirius had explained herself clearly. If Rudolf truly had nothing to hide—even if it were Tokai Teio who liked Kitahara—

Then after Sirius stated her intentions, Rudolf shouldn’t have cared what she did.

Yet, despite Sirius having explained herself, and despite it being nothing more than a handshake, Rudolf was resisting this strongly.

So what did that imply? Sirius could only think of one answer.

So she really does have feelings for Kitahara…

Simultaneously, the same thought surfaced in both their minds. They lifted their heads, meeting eyes in silence for a brief moment.

While locked like that, Kitahara—who had been stuck awkwardly between them—cleared his throat.

“Um… you two. If there’s something to discuss, maybe do it privately? Don’t keep grabbing each other. There are a lot of eyes on us…”

Only then did Rudolf and Sirius snap back to reality. Noticing the growing audience, they exchanged one final look before releasing their hands simultaneously.

Even though Sirius’s move hadn’t succeeded, it served as a warning to everyone else.

On the surface, no one reacted, but privately, everyone began doing mental calculations. For various reasons, they started searching for a “reasonable” way to approach Kitahara.

But no one expected that while they were still plotting, Kitahara himself would take the initiative.

“How about we chat?”

Kitahara spoke slowly.

If given a choice, Kitahara preferred not to act too intimately with the people around him.

Based on his observations—and overheard conversations—it was clear the focus of this gathering was on the five Umamusume seated beside him.

Now they were all at his side. Kitahara knew full well he was simply an innocent passerby dragged in as a shield.

Yet, in everyone else’s eyes, what he was doing probably looked like someone snatching the whole cake during a party and leaving the platter behind, saying, “Feel free to split that.”

If, on top of an act that already drew resentment, he deliberately smacked his lips afterward… forget others—Kitahara himself would find it excessive.

But the problem was, he had no choice.

Everyone knew Rudolf was popular. Sirius had plenty of admirers, too. The other three were also the “stars” of this gathering—none had it easy.

Yet one thing people seemed to overlook: Kitahara was the shield all five of them had pushed forward. He was shouldering the combined pressure from everyone involved.

In other words, he was actually under the greatest stress of all.

And on top of that, he’d been constantly checking his phone, afraid he might miss a message—because he hadn’t forgotten: aside from being everyone else’s shield, he also had two matchmaking meetings of his own to deal with.

Thus, for everyone’s sake, and for himself, after Sirius made her move, Kitahara finally considered proactively acting “a little closer.” After rejecting physical contact, he chose conversation.

If they looked engaged, maybe it would discourage others from intruding, right?

That was his thinking.

The others had considered other methods too, but with the limitations of the setting, none seemed practical. After a brief silence, they all nodded and agreed to Kitahara’s suggestion.

“But what do we talk about?” Mejiro Ardan raised the question. “If the topic’s too general, won’t people use it as an excuse to butt in…?”

“Let’s talk about training and life at Tracen,” Rudolf decided. “Even if someone joins us, as long as we don’t stray from the subject, it shouldn’t be a problem…”

And so, after a short discussion, they began chatting about training and Tracen-related topics, slowly easing the tension.

What they didn’t know was that, at the same moment, several elderly figures in an exclusive room on the hotel’s top floor were whispering around a screen.

At the center of the screen was Kitahara’s table.

“Kitahara Sota… That name sounds somewhat familiar…”

“Which family is he representing? I don’t remember him being on the list…”

“Tch, impressive. The kid stole the spotlight all by himself. Looks like all your precious girls have fallen into his hands…”

“Speed, what do you think?”

With those words, all eyes turned toward one figure in the room.

“Wait and see.”

Symboli Speed responded calmly, her gaze fixed on the center of the screen, her expression unreadable in shadow.

The others seemed accustomed to such answers, and instead of arguing, simply returned their focus to the screen, chatting quietly among themselves.

“You know… doesn’t Speed seem oddly cheerful today?”

“Yeah, it’s strange. Given what happened back then, she’s usually in a terrible mood whenever she comes here. But today—forget terrible—she almost seems gentler than usual…”

“Come on, seriously? You think that old woman has anything to do with being ‘gentle’?”

“Shh, lower your voice. If she hears you, you’ll get smacked again…”

“…No way. We’re all grown and proper family heads now. She can’t still act like when we were young…”

“Someone said that last year, and then…”

“And then there was no ‘then.’”

Listening to their whispers, Symboli Speed remained expressionless.

Ordinarily, because of certain past events, her mood would indeed be poor. Hearing them talk like this, even if she didn’t explode immediately, she’d at least issue a warning.

But today, for certain reasons, she was in a better mood. Ignoring their idle talk, she merely kept her eyes on the screen, lightly tapping her index finger on the table.

Still calling them “precious,” are they…?

These useless old fools clearly hadn’t realized it yet.

What the most precious treasure in this entire building truly was…

—

T/N: speed is winning rn

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!