Slacking Professionally at Tracen [9]

For the third time today, Kitahara Sota found himself face-to-face with the little loli Chairwoman.

Morning meeting once, team application approval once, and now he’d been dragged here again.

At this point, he felt like Liu Bei making three visits to Zhuge Liang’s hut.

Because Kitahara hadn’t resisted at all, he arrived at Chairwoman Akikawa Yayoi’s office completely unharmed, obediently led by the crowd of Uma Musume and trainers who’d rushed to the scene earlier. Now, he and Yayoi stared at each other in awkward silence.

“Question!” Akikawa Yayoi snapped open her fan. “Trainer Kitahara Sota, do you have anything to say in your defense?”

Kitahara shrugged, casually pointing at the camera on the desk. “Does this look like something I could even afford?”

Yayoi blinked. She glanced over Kitahara’s obviously worn, cheap suit, then back at the high-end camera sitting on her desk, and quietly folded her fan away.

“Confirmed! Trainer Kitahara is innocent!”

Kitahara: “…?”

Wait, isn’t this plot development a bit off? Why was she convinced so easily?

According to the usual script, no matter how much he protested his innocence, the school authorities would stubbornly insist he was guilty. Yet without hard evidence, they’d reluctantly keep him on staff. His reputation would be ruined, though, ensuring no Uma Musume would willingly train under him, allowing him to pleasantly—no, rather miserably—slack off in peace.

Wasn’t it supposed to unfold like that?

Although Kitahara disliked being falsely accused—and certainly didn’t enjoy being labeled a pervert—he wouldn’t mind mildly sullying his name if it meant avoiding attention from those dangerous Uma Musume, thereby guaranteeing his lazy, carefree life. After all, he was planning to slack off anyway. Who cared about having a spotless reputation?

“Chairwoman, you sure you don’t want to double-check? I might actually be guilty, you know,” Kitahara couldn’t resist prompting.

Yayoi snapped open her fan again, replying crisply, “No need! I trust Trainer Kitahara’s character… and your financial situation.”

Kitahara stared at the tiny Chairwoman for a long moment, then desperately cast a hopeful glance toward the people who’d escorted him here.

Even if the Chairwoman trusted him implicitly, surely these eyewitnesses wouldn’t simply clear him, right? At least they should spread some nasty rumors or something?

And then…

“We sincerely apologize, Kitahara-san, we misunderstood.”

“We heard someone fleeing outside—so you must’ve scared off the actual culprit. Thank you very much for your help!”

The couple from the warehouse earnestly apologized, thoroughly extinguishing his last flicker of suspicion.

At this point, Kitahara had no more room to argue. Defeated, he recounted the incident honestly and dejectedly.

“Understood!” Yayoi nodded solemnly. “Thank you for your cooperation. Go home and rest well. If there are any further developments, I’ll inform you immediately.”

With those words, Yayoi sent Kitahara out of the office.

The group who’d escorted him earlier started apologizing profusely. Though he secretly felt a bit disappointed at the lost opportunity, he waved off their apologies, acknowledging he’d indeed looked suspicious under the circumstances.

After disentangling himself from the group, Kitahara began heading home when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Pulling it out, he found an invitation from fellow trainers for a welcome gathering at a nearby izakaya.

As an expert slacker, Kitahara knew perfectly well that maintaining a successful lazy lifestyle required at least friendly cooperation from colleagues. So this welcome party was a must.

Following his phone’s directions, he arrived to find the izakaya already lively, filled with trainers enjoying drinks. His arrival raised the energy even higher as many trainers who hadn’t met him during the day eagerly crowded around, excited to see this living urban legend with their own eyes.

Others had heard that Tokai Teio had specifically picked him as her trainer, and wanted a glimpse of what made him special.

After some enthusiastic mingling, Kitahara successfully became acquainted with his colleagues, marking his preliminary integration into Tracen’s workplace.

“Ah, you newbies better treasure this free time,” an older trainer suddenly sighed. “Once you have a tantou, peaceful days like this become a distant dream.”

“Hm? Why’s that?” a young trainer asked, puzzled. “The academy guidelines don’t demand many working hours, and we get plenty of vacation days. Shouldn’t there still be plenty of time to relax?”

“Plenty of relaxing time, heh?” the older trainers laughed bitterly.

“If academy guidelines meant anything, we wouldn’t have trainers landing in the hospital every year at Tracen.”

“Think about it. Once you have a tantou, you’ll naturally want her to win races. Winning requires extra practice and effort beyond everyone else.”

“Can you really sleep soundly knowing other trainers and their tantou are spending even their days off training harder?”

“And that’s just racing. Imagine your tantou is the clingy or insecure type—that’s even worse. Besides prepping for competitions, you’ll have to constantly manage her emotions. Believe me, ‘troublesome’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Finally, if—and I mean IF—you fail to maintain a professional distance and something actually happens between you two… well, there goes your freedom. Marriage is a man’s graveyard, and that saying didn’t come from nowhere.”

As the veterans aired their grievances, they suddenly remembered something, casting sympathetic yet gleefully amused glances toward Kitahara.

“Come to think of it, though you’re all newbies, two of you already seem to have forfeited this last bit of freedom, haven’t you?”

“Trainer Kitahara and Trainer Higashimori, wouldn’t you say so?”

Kitahara’s case was self-explanatory.

Though news of his team’s formation hadn’t spread yet, everyone already knew he’d taken on two tantou. In the eyes of veteran trainers, he was halfway into Tracen’s darkest abyss. Considering they believed Eclipse was his childhood friend, no one would be shocked if he ended up hospitalized tomorrow.

As for Trainer Higashimori—Higashimori Yosuke—he’d scored first place among this year’s newly hired trainers, achieving the rare feat of full marks on the theoretical exam.

Despite his impressive achievement, he carried none of the arrogance expected. Instead, he appeared shy, slender, and bookish with thick glasses—a picture-perfect image of a hardworking small-town honor student.

When teased by the veterans, Kitahara didn’t respond, merely slumping deeper into his chair, conveying clearly: “I’m already committed to slacking off. Nothing you say will affect me.”

But Higashimori reacted differently. After an awkward silence, he blushed and quietly protested, “Um, senpai, I’m already engaged to my girlfriend, so please refrain from jokes like that…”

“You’re engaged?” Everyone present, including Kitahara, twitched involuntarily, expressions growing complicated.

“Oh, you poor fool. Listen to me—either break up immediately or quit right now. Trainers who already have girlfriends rarely end well here at Tracen,” an older trainer warned sincerely.

But Higashimori shook his head firmly.

“It’s okay. I explained my situation to my tantou before signing. She’s a very mature girl, and I’ll make sure to keep a professional distance.”

He paused, then added earnestly, “Besides, I don’t plan on working here very long. Once I’ve earned enough money, I’ll head back home and marry her. Honestly, I might resign before my three years are even up.”

“When that happens, I’ll leave my tantou in your care.”

Kitahara, who’d been pretending to doze, couldn’t help but open his eyes, staring at Higashimori with newfound pity.

Brother, with the flag you’ve just raised, no one would be surprised if you got sacked up and thrown in the basement tomorrow morning.

Moreover…

“Trainer Higashimori,” Kitahara asked mildly, “from your tone, you sound experienced. This isn’t your first time as a trainer, is it?”

Higashimori blinked, then nodded. “I was previously a trainer at a local Tracen branch. I resigned later due to personal reasons.”

Kitahara nodded thoughtfully, then returned to slumping in his seat.

As the night deepened, the welcome gathering gradually came to an end. Generously, the veteran trainers refused to split the bill, treating everyone instead.

After bidding farewell, Kitahara left the izakaya, following navigation to his assigned dormitory.

Unlocking the door, he discovered a spacious room resembling an apartment rather than a dorm, fully furnished—even equipped with a computer.

Not bad. He’d worried he’d have to buy supplies at this hour. Tracen administration was more reliable than he’d expected.

Quickly familiarizing himself with the layout, Kitahara stripped off his clothes, took a quick shower, then sat down at his computer, pulling out his notebook.

Despite today’s many surprises, he hadn’t forgotten the training plans he’d promised Special Week and Oguri Cap.

The night stretched quietly onward.

Accompanied only by the gentle scratching of pen against paper, everything else drifted peacefully into sleep.

—

T/N: a slacker whos not a slacker hehehe

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!