Over an hour later.
“Aw, come on, McQueen, don’t be so impatient! I told you I’d hand it over after half an hour. I promise I won’t go back on my word!”
“You said exactly the same thing half an hour ago, Teio…” Mejiro McQueen sighed, smiling with gentle exasperation at her friend, who still clung stubbornly to the drone’s remote controller. After another wistful glance at the controller, she shook her head lightly and looked thoughtfully at the tablet on the desk.
A cable connected the tablet to the remote in Tokai Teio’s hands.
The remote itself was about the size of a brick, featuring an antenna on top, with control sticks, buttons, and indicator lights arranged at the front. Most of the back was occupied by a display screen.
On the screen were clear, high-definition aerial views: blue-tiled roofs, European-style red-brick buildings, paved avenues, shaded paths, bright classrooms, and lush training grounds…
It was a bird’s-eye view of Tracen Academy.
The tablet showed the same images. As Tokai Teio enthusiastically manipulated the controls, both screens swiftly shifted from one scene to another at remarkable speed.
“It’s amazing. Who’d have thought something so small could fly this fast?”
Mejiro McQueen marveled at the images before turning toward Yasui Makoto.
“If I’m not mistaken…the drone’s current speed is around 60 kilometers per hour?”
Without waiting for Yasui’s confirmation, Teio answered proudly—her eyes never leaving the screen—as if boasting about a beloved new toy:
“You’re right, McQueen! I set the speed to exactly 60 km/h!”
“Yasui-san mentioned it can even hit up to 72 km/h at top speed, though not even the final spurt in a G1 race reaches that speed. For training, 60 is more than enough.”
“Hehe, you’ll see when you play with it yourself!”
Mejiro McQueen sighed again, resigned but affectionate. Having known Teio for so long, she easily recognized the childish pride in her friend’s voice.
But she quickly returned her attention to the drone, intently observing the tablet’s feed.
From the moment she saw Yasui demonstrate the drone, McQueen had immediately grasped its significance.
High-quality video recordings were essential for both training and race analysis. Reviewing such footage allowed trainers and Uma Musume alike to identify countless problems and optimize future strategies.
Currently, there were mainly three filming methods: multiple cameras at racecourses, surveillance camera footage, and trainers filming by themselves—either following the Uma Musume or fixed-point filming.
Each had pros and cons:
Multiple professional cameras were excellent, but aside from publicly broadcast footage, race recordings were usually kept by the URA Association and the academy, requiring tedious applications to access.
Surveillance camera footage had wide coverage but even more difficult access, often with poor resolution.
Self-recording was common, but trainers couldn’t keep pace with Uma Musume unless another Uma Musume assisted. Otherwise, stationary shots were limited. Uma Musume running with cameras resulted in shaky, unreliable footage.
However, drone filming combined all these advantages while sidestepping every shortcoming.
According to Yasui, once the flight routes were set, using even three drones simultaneously to film continuously would produce recordings far superior to any existing method.
Thinking about this, Mejiro McQueen glanced expectantly toward Yasui Makoto.
“Yasui-san, since you already had this idea in mind, have you been filming Kitasan’s training these days? Could I perhaps see some footage?”
Tokai Teio, despite being engrossed in piloting the drone, also turned to Yasui, equally intrigued. As a similarly gifted and experienced Uma Musume, she shared her friend’s keen understanding.
Holding tightly to the remote, she still maintained her awareness as student council president.
“That’s right! You only mentioned it to me last night, but this morning, Yasui-san, did you manage to film Kitasan?”
Earlier, while Tokai Teio enjoyed flying the drone, Yasui hadn’t interrupted her. He wanted both presidents to personally experience the advantages of drone filming, ensuring the next conversation flowed smoothly.
Now, seeing both leaders broach the main topic, Yasui didn’t hide the truth:
“Not yet. The drone has a few issues still—that’s partly why I came here to speak with you two.”
“Issues?” The two presidents spoke simultaneously.
Teio hesitated briefly before handing the controller to McQueen.
“McQueen, you bring the drone back—I’ll discuss things with Yasui-san first.”
“Oh…so you finally remember me at a time like this, hmm?” Mejiro McQueen playfully grumbled, though she accepted the remote without complaint, carefully following Yasui’s earlier demonstration.
“The most noticeable issue is noise,” Yasui began, gesturing toward the tablet’s image. “You can’t hear it on the screen because of the built-in noise cancellation. But I’m sure you both heard it during takeoff—it’s honestly pretty loud. In fact, if it flies too close, you’ll constantly hear that buzzing sound. Your hearing is exceptionally sensitive; unless we resolve that, training could be disrupted.”
“There’s also the software issue. Strictly speaking, this drone is still a prototype. By a stroke of luck, I managed to acquire it—well, not exactly buy it. The inventor wanted someone to test it practically, so they provided it to me.”
“That means the camera movement, image processing, intelligent avoidance functions…all still require fine-tuning.”
“Lastly,” Yasui paused briefly, unhesitant in addressing the issue, “privacy.”
Tokai Teio paused, quickly catching on.
“True. With a device like this, you could film almost anything with ease. The academy is full of girls—not only students, but also teachers and trainers. Even a minor misunderstanding could escalate quickly.”
She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Let me think…”
Seeing her reaction, Yasui remained quiet. He had some preliminary ideas, but knowing Tokai Teio’s reputation for efficiency, perhaps she’d come up with an even better solution. He waited patiently, watching her expression carefully.
Before Tokai Teio could respond, Mejiro McQueen’s confused voice interrupted:
“Hm? Isn’t that Kita-chan? Why is she acting so strange…?”
Instantly, Yasui and Tokai Teio’s attention was drawn to the screen.
On both the tablet and remote display, they clearly saw the image Mejiro McQueen had described—a black-haired girl acting rather suspiciously.
It was currently break time. Students chatted casually in the hallways or strolled onto the sports fields, relaxing with friends.
Yet the black-haired girl in the footage wasn’t chatting or relaxing.
Instead, Kitasan Black stood furtively hidden among the bushes near the sports field, awkwardly holding two leafy branches, clearly trying—and utterly failing—to blend inconspicuously into the greenery.
—
This is a fan translation of 赛马娘：从被撞飞十米开始 by 百升飞上天 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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