"Tracen Academy, huh..."
Kitahara Sota looked up at the vast campus before him—large enough to rival a small city—then glanced down at the trainer ID badge hanging crookedly around his neck. He let out a sigh.
"In the end, I still couldn't avoid this."
Tracen Academy, officially the Japan Uma Musu Training Center Gakuen, was operated by the Uma Musu Racing Association (URA) and considered Japan's most elite institution for training Uma Musu.
Trainers were instructors employed by Tracen, responsible specifically for guiding and nurturing Uma Musu—essentially private tutors.
High salary, excellent benefits, free als and lodging, respectable social status, and surrounded by beautiful girls—it sounded like a perfect job.
At least, that's how outsiders saw it.
But for those in the know...
"Do you guys have any idea how strong active Uma Musu are?"
"Even the most ordinary Uma Musu, after undergoing proper training, possess physical capabilities at least three tis that of a regular human. As for professionally trained racers, any one of them could easily overpower an adult male without breaking a sweat."
"And because they spend most of their lives focused on competition, their competitive spirit and assertiveness far surpass normal humans. Especially during their adolescence, when they're even more impulsive and emotionally sensitive."
"Do you understand what this ans?"
"It ans the mont you beco too close and develop feelings you shouldn't, your life's countdown has already begun."
"It's not like they'll deliberately harm you. But given their extraordinary physical strength, even a harmless joke can seriously injure you."
"And if you dare reject their 'good intentions' or upset them in any way, they might resort to extre asures."
"Scratches, bites, stalking, confinent, basents, shattered pelvises..."
"Every year, countless trainers end up hospitalized because of the Uma Musu under their care. Even fatalities aren't unheard of."
"To outsiders, our job might seem glamorous and safe, but the reality is that trainer injuries rival even front-line police officers. Trainer turnover rate ranks highest among all professions."
"Maintain proper distance—not just with your assigned Uma Musu, but with every Uma Musu. Never, ever develop inappropriate feelings. That's my only advice to you."
During a trainer orientation lecture, an experienced veteran trainer had given this solemn warning to the newcors.
At the ti, the trainees had laughed it off. After all, public perception held Uma Musu as blessed beings chosen by the Three Goddesses. How could they possibly behave in such ways?
Even if they did, surely those were isolated cases and couldn't represent Uma Musu as a whole.
But Kitahara Sota knew the veteran trainer was telling the truth.
As soone who'd transmigrated into this world over a decade ago, and due to certain circumstances had interacted frequently with Uma Musu, he understood them very well.
Possessing both superhuman strength and immature minds, Uma Musu were essentially ferocious beasts living within modern civilization.
And because their intelligence matched humans', they were often more terrifying than wild animals.
Tracen Academy headquarters was a gathering place for elite Uma Musu.
In other words, the Uma Musu here were far more powerful—and far more terrifying—than any elsewhere.
In his previous life, he'd been an avid player of the Uma Musu mobile ga, always digging through obscure fanfiction and leaving comnts like "Not twisted enough" or "Boring, show rivers of blood!"
But when it beca his own reality, he'd chickened out imdiately.
He was still young, after all. He didn't want to end up locked in soone's basent or have his pelvis shattered.
If possible, forget Tracen HQ—he didn't even want to interact with any Uma Musu at all.
But unfortunately, he had no choice.
The original owner of this body had lost his parents, leaving him in poverty—if not penniless, then at least destitute.
He'd tried other jobs, but the oppressive JP corporate culture was unbearable, and wages were so low they barely covered living expenses.
After nurous failures, he ultimately grit his teeth and applied at Tracen HQ.
Great risks brought great rewards, after all. Trainers here had outrageously high base salaries, and he figured that if he simply kept his head down, idling away and avoiding trouble until his contract ended, he could walk away with plenty of cash. He doubted anything could go wrong if he kept himself invisible.
Moreover, he'd prepared in advance by arranging for an Uma Musu he knew to transfer into the academy, intending for her to beco his "tantou"—the designated Uma Musu under his care.
Though she was eccentric and completely unknown in the ga's canon—likely just an average, background character who wouldn't win him any races or prize money—that didn't matter, since he never intended to win anyway.
Most importantly, he knew her thoroughly and could guarantee she was safe.
And that was good enough.
Imagining his beautiful future of idleness ahead, Kitahara Sota took a deep breath, pasted on a smile, and stepped through the gates of Tracen Academy, which seed to him like the gaping maw of a bottomless abyss.
...
Once inside Tracen, a harmonious scene unfolded before him.
Clean, wide streets, neatly trimd lawns, and Uma Musu strolling leisurely, chatting cheerfully—an atmosphere overflowing with youth and happiness.
Plenty of trainers were around, too, all looking perfectly normal, no missing limbs, so chatting comfortably with their assigned Uma Musu about their upcoming training schedules.
"What a pleasant environnt..."
Though he knew the academy wasn't actually as peaceful as it seed, Kitahara Sota couldn't help but feel a faint doubt about his prior assumptions.
Sure, the rumors weren't false, but this was still a proper academy—the face of the entire Uma Musu world. Perhaps it wasn't quite as sinister and dangerous as he'd—
"N-no... stop... not here..."
"Please, I have a fiancée..."
Passing by an abandoned warehouse, Kitahara Sota vaguely heard sothing disturbing, quickening his pace as his expression turned complicated.
Well, never mind. Seems like it's the sa everywhere.
After wandering around briefly and familiarizing himself with the campus, he headed to a shaded area in the southwest corner, where he'd agreed to et her.
Since it wasn't ti yet, Kitahara Sota found a comfortable spot, lay down in the shade, took out his phone, and prepared to kill so ti watching videos.
A mont later, footsteps approached.
Without even looking up, Kitahara Sota spoke casually.
"Eclipse, what do you think of this school?"
"It's not bad."
A slightly cold, feminine voice answered, stopping in front of him, sounding a bit puzzled.
"But the Uma Musu here seem a little too enthusiastic. It's making uncomfortable."
"You'll get used to it soon enough. Everyone here is really friendly," chid another lively voice.
Surprised at this unfamiliar voice, Kitahara Sota finally looked up.
He'd heard only one set of footsteps, which was why he'd spoken so casually. He hadn't expected soone else to be here.
Or rather, another Uma Musu.
Brown hair playfully highlighted with a distinctive streak of white, vivid blue eyes radiating energy, and an infectiously cheerful expression—her overflowing vitality was nearly tangible.
She's adorable.
That was the reaction of almost everyone who first t her.
But not Kitahara Sota.
The mont he saw her face, his heart skipped a beat.
As if intentionally ignoring his reaction, the Uma Musu nad Eclipse coughed lightly, then introduced the newcor.
"She's a friend I just made."
"Tokai Teio."
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