Slacking Professionally at Tracen [90]

Shortly afterward, Kitahara Sota and Symboli Rudolf finally met Clover-san.

She lay on a hospital bed, and though she was already in her forties, she looked barely older than Rudolf herself. Her expression and demeanor were vibrant, giving her a youthful charm that defied her age.

Yet, that liveliness sharply contrasted with the numerous tubes and medical equipment attached to her body.

The accident more than twenty years ago had damaged more than just her legs. Her internal organs and various parts of her body had suffered extensive trauma. Without Tracen Academy’s advanced medical technology, she likely wouldn’t have survived to adulthood.

It wasn’t just the treatment either. Before Kudou Kazuya became a trainer, he had no income, and neither of their families had the means to cover such steep medical costs. It was the former Chairwoman of Tracen who, upon learning of their situation, decisively waived all expenses, saying Kudou could repay them once he started earning. That was the only reason Clover had been able to survive this long.

Another Uma Musume—one previously mentioned in Kudou’s files—was also in the room, quietly sitting at Clover’s bedside.

This Uma Musume had once attempted to forcefully pursue Kudou, his former tantō.

They had been talking softly when Kitahara and Rudolf entered, pausing to look over as the door opened.

“Huh, President Rudolf?” Clover blinked, eyes shifting curiously to Kitahara. “And Kitahara-san too? What brings you here?”

Kitahara was briefly startled at being recognized.

It made sense that she’d recognize Rudolf, the undefeated Triple Crown legend often on TV. But him…?

“You know who I am, Clover-san?”

“Yes,” Clover nodded cheerfully. “Kazuya often mentioned you. Recently he said he was very happy you’d joined as a trainer, though he regretted being too busy to reach out. Did Kazuya ask you to come here?”

“…No,” Kitahara admitted awkwardly, scratching his head. “We were visiting another hospitalized trainer and remembered Kudou-san visits here often, so we decided to drop by.”

Kitahara’s eyes moved slowly across the numerous medical devices and finally rested on Clover’s smiling face, prompting a quiet sigh in his heart.

He sat down, beginning to chat casually with Clover.

Having just read Kudou’s information, Kitahara knew plenty of anecdotes to share. He spoke comfortably, as if he’d been Kudou’s longtime friend, freely mixing in jokes and playful complaints.

Throughout their conversation, Clover often laughed and shook her head, jokingly calling Kudou a fool who always claimed she was the dumb one, when clearly he was even worse.

After chatting for a while, Kitahara tactfully mentioned that since this visit was made without Kudou’s knowledge, he hoped Clover would keep it confidential.

She quickly agreed. After all, both Rudolf and Kitahara were figures Kudou regularly praised—she was sure he wouldn’t mind something like this. Still, seeing Kitahara’s sincerity, she decided to promise him anyway.

Kitahara then subtly steered the conversation, casually asking what sorts of things Kudou mentioned to her. Mostly, Clover described stories from Kudou’s earlier days.

About an hour later, their conversation ended when medical staff arrived to perform Clover’s daily checkup. Kitahara politely took his leave.

However, once they exited the room, the smile on Kitahara’s face gradually faded, replaced by a complicated, grave expression.

Rudolf, walking beside him, was equally solemn.

“Trainer Kitahara, do you think…?”

“Kudou Kazuya is definitely hiding something,” Kitahara said firmly. “Even if he’s not connected to ‘that matter,’ there’s definitely another serious issue.”

His suspicions were clearer now.

Before arriving, Kitahara had entertained numerous possibilities about Kudou’s motivations: Blackmail involving Clover, organ transplants, or something similar.

But after hearing Clover and Kudou’s story, he realized the truth was far more complicated.

Honestly, had Kudou been a simple criminal or even just an ordinary person, Kitahara wouldn’t have thought this way.

But this was Kudou Kazuya—a man known for his unwavering willpower, extraordinary dedication to Uma Musume, and a deep sense of responsibility.

From their conversation, Kitahara could tell Kudou had genuinely taken good care of Clover after the accident. Despite her physical condition, every mention of Kudou made Clover’s eyes brighten with sincere happiness, her mind still youthful and lively.

But what about Kudou himself?

He had no wife or children, minimal contact with family. Every day, he fulfilled his duties at the academy, returned home, phoned Clover to cheer her up, and visited her weekly without fail.

Notice something wrong?

He spent his life giving outwardly, strongly resisting any kind of reciprocation.

If Kitahara hadn’t heard their past, he might have thought Kudou was simply driven by a noble ideal or some intense faith in the San Megami.

But now, he suspected Kudou was driven by something else entirely.

Guilt.

Moreover, Kitahara learned through the conversation that the Uma Musume at Clover’s bedside—the one who’d previously attempted to forcibly pursue Kudou—had repeatedly expressed willingness to accept Kudou’s relationship with Clover, even offering to care for her. Clover herself encouraged Kudou to accept her, genuinely hoping for his happiness.

Yet Kudou’s answer remained unchanged.

“I’ve already destroyed one person’s life. I can’t ruin another.”

This response deeply frustrated both women. They even formed a united front, intentionally giving him the cold shoulder whenever he visited, hoping to pressure him into changing his stance.

Yet Kudou never wavered.

More than twenty years had passed. It wasn’t even his fault, and he’d already done more than enough. Anyone would agree he’d long since paid his dues.

Yet, in his heart, Kudou remained trapped in that night, holding Clover’s battered body, never escaping from the shadow of guilt and regret.

He concealed his pain impeccably, never revealing his true emotions to outsiders. Even in Clover’s room, the only place where he let his guard down, he spoke honestly only when cornered.

That deep suppression had continued unbroken for decades.

Even when faced with another Uma Musume who fully accepted both Clover and him, a woman whom he clearly held strong feelings for after three years of partnership—still supported wholeheartedly by Clover herself—he rejected her decisively. Even physically harming himself, rather than allowing his heart’s walls to crumble.

Kitahara couldn’t believe a person who’d do that had no hidden darkness inside.

Especially now, knowing Kudou had mentioned Kitahara’s name frequently years before Kitahara even joined Tracen Academy, an unlikely theory began forming in his mind:

Perhaps Kudou wasn’t being threatened or tricked into cooperating with the Uma Musume hunters—perhaps he’d willingly joined them.

But not to profit. Instead, perhaps it was for another purpose entirely:

Traffickers and Uma Musume hunters were similar—both were monsters who preyed on the vulnerable for profit.

What if Kudou, after infiltrating this “black market,” was outwardly orchestrating hunts but secretly arranging their downfall, deliberately leading each of those criminals to predetermined judgment?

And perhaps the one meant to deliver that judgment was Kitahara himself.

If true, this would also explain why those hunters had persistently followed Kitahara everywhere. Someone behind the scenes might’ve deliberately targeted him, aiming to use him to punish those criminals.

If he extended this logic, perhaps Kudou wasn’t alone. The “black market’s” existence seemed illogical otherwise. A normal black market served as a neutral intermediary between buyer and seller, profiting off commissions. Yet all available information suggested this market directly arranged every single hunt themselves, never succeeding or profiting once.

Yet, despite constant failures, their shadow still loomed behind Black Forest. They hadn’t stopped.

Kitahara refused to believe money motivated them. If not money, something else drove them.

If he could prove Kudou’s circumstances, Kitahara would need to rethink everything he’d believed about the black market thus far.

But therein lay the problem: He needed concrete evidence.

He already had some proof—Kudou’s travel times matched eyewitness reports from young Uma Musume sightings. But Kudou could easily dismiss that evidence by claiming ignorance or manipulation.

All of this was mere conjecture without solid, definitive proof. Any of these theories could collapse in an instant.

It’s getting complicated…

Kitahara sighed, deeply frustrated.

He’d hoped this trip would clarify things, yet it had raised even more questions.

“Trainer Kitahara, have you realized something?” Rudolf asked softly.

Unlike him, Rudolf hadn’t directly dealt with Uma Musume hunters and was unaware of the black market. But strangely, looking at Kitahara’s troubled expression, she felt a sense of quiet familiarity—as if sensing the outline of his thoughts.

“Not realized,” Kitahara replied, “just guessing at this point. But it involves some private matters. I’m not keen on sharing them right now… but if you really want to know…”

“No need,” Rudolf interrupted gently. “But if you ever encounter related issues again, please don’t hesitate to ask for my help. I’ll assist however I can.”

Kitahara fell silent briefly, then spoke softly:

“…Thank you.”

“No problem.”

…

After returning to the academy, Rudolf promptly resumed her duties. Kitahara, meanwhile, headed straight to his dorm rather than the training grounds.

He organized all the information he’d gathered, including his latest theories, and forwarded them to the senior Uma Musume helping with his investigation. Although incomplete, perhaps his thoughts would offer her new insights.

Finished, he lay down wearily on the bed. A certain black rice ball promptly climbed onto his chest.

Kitahara sighed again, lightly stroking the little black bundle, pondering what to do next.

After a long silence, he relaxed into a resigned smile.

Might as well slack off.

He didn’t have much choice, after all.

The black market was extremely cautious, and Kudou’s interest in him dated back several years. Any oversight—like the small slip involving Black Forest—was already a rare stroke of luck.

So now, he had no option but to wait patiently for their next move.

And while waiting, he’d simply keep slacking off.

—

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!