The mont Nishiguchi Ei ntioned the na "Digital-tan," Kitahara knew exactly who the stalker was.
Agnes Digital.
A na just as infamous at Tracen as Agnes Tachyon—and one he'd briefly considered recruiting himself.
But unlike Tachyon, Digital's fa wasn't due to mad science.
Quite the opposite. Digital had virtually no scientific prowess to speak of. Instead, her boundless enthusiasm focused entirely on a subject completely unrelated to science:
Her passionate love for Uma Musu.
Other girls ca to Tracen Academy to improve their abilities, dreaming of victory. But Digital enrolled solely to get up-close and personal with as many Uma Musu as possible.
It wasn't exactly unhealthy—just pure, heartfelt adoration. Unfortunately, she often took her devotion a little too far.
Taking candid photos was nothing. Her most notorious mont ca when she openly advertised online, using her real na, offering to buy other Uma Musu's discarded clothes for her collection. This stunt had instantly branded her Tracen's resident pervert.
Yet despite her reputation, Digital maintained surprisingly high popularity within the academy.
Her reason was simple: restraint. Yes, her actions were undeniably creepy, but she always carefully avoided causing trouble or discomfort to anyone other than herself. Even her secret photos never crossed boundaries—any sensitive pictures stayed hidden, then vanished completely once she'd enjoyed them.
Moreover, Digital managed several prominent Uma Musu fan groups. If any Uma Musu ever faced financial or personal difficulties, they could count on her unconditional support. She never demanded repaynt.
Since arriving at Tracen, Digital volunteered for every single campus event that didn't conflict with her schedule, from guiding new students to organizing graduation activities. Her helpfulness had reached an impressive portion of Tracen's student body.
In short: she was a pervert—but a shafully kind-hearted one.
Or simply put:
A good-hearted pervert.
But don't let her eccentricities fool you—her abilities as an Uma Musu were astonishingly formidable.
Even among the talented elites at Tracen, Digital was considered a prodigy. Not just any prodigy, either: she was an exceptionally rare all-rounder. Apart from being weaker in short- and long-distance races, she excelled effortlessly across turf and dirt courses alike.
Her talent wasn't limited to racing. She had impressive skills as an artist, cook, fanfiction author, fashion designer—even in grooming and caretaking of Uma Musu. Although not as specialized as Tracen's experts, she easily reached impressive proficiency in everything she tried.
Her reason for racing was absurdly straightforward as well.
While other racers pursued victory, Digital ran solely to indulge her Uma Musu obsessions up-close. She'd even tried convincing organizers to let her carry support signs during races, pulling them out whenever she fell behind to cheer on her rivals.
Yet her victories proved even more outrageous.
When Digital seriously raced, it usually ant she was short on money for more Uma Musu morabilia. Thus, she'd fiercely compete for the prize money—then use those winnings to buy the fan rchandise of the very rivals she'd just defeated.
If possible, she'd even ask those rivals to autograph the items she bought, blissfully taking them ho to her ever-growing collection.
Naturally, races featuring Agnes Digital had bizarre atmospheres. Winners found it impossible to truly celebrate, while losers endured indescribably complicated emotions.
And one final important detail: Agnes Digital and Agnes Tachyon were roommates.
However, since Tachyon practically lived in her lab, their shared dorm had beco Digital's personal shrine, overflowing with Uma Musu-related paraphernalia. The two barely interacted.
Then again, Kitahara couldn't help but wonder if Tachyon's obsessive lab occupancy was precisely because Digital was her roommate…
He dismissed the thought quickly, however—such details weren't worth dwelling on.
Having confird the photos had co from Tracen's resident harmless pervert and had nothing to do with the Black Forest organization, Kitahara set aside any further worries about the matter.
After chatting casually with the other trainers for a while, catching up on recent amusing incidents around Tracen, the busy day gradually ca to an end beneath the rising moon.
...
Sunday morning.
As usual, Kitahara woke early, glanced at the clock, burrowed imdiately back under the covers—and, as usual, was soon jolted awake again by knocking at the door.
Throwing on his freshly dried clothes, he yawned sleepily as he opened the door—then imdiately froze.
Because the visitor wasn't Eclipse.
Or rather, it wasn't only Eclipse.
Standing in a neat row before him were Eclipse, Tokai Teio, Special Week, Oguri Cap, Agnes Tachyon, and Grass Wonder—every single Uma Musu currently under his care. Each wore a different expression, so even carrying bags.
"What…exactly are you all doing here?" Kitahara asked blankly, his gaze swiftly turning suspicious.
"Don't even think about dragging into training. I'm a staunch anti-workaholic, and a holiday is absolutely sacred. If you want to train, do it yourselves—leave out of it."
Of course, the girls hadn't co to drag him to training. Instead, they'd coordinated this visit among themselves earlier that morning.
Though they'd arrived together, each had her own distinct reason for being there.
Special Week had ntioned Kitahara to her mother in the countryside, who promptly mailed her so hotown specialties, asking her daughter to deliver them to Kitahara as a belated thank-you.
Grass Wonder naturally followed along with Special Week, and Oguri Cap joined imdiately upon hearing there'd be food involved.
Eclipse didn't need a reason; Agnes Tachyon, anwhile, planned to test out her latest experintal potion on Kitahara.
As for Tokai Teio, she still couldn't quite believe Kitahara had developed six entirely new running styles for two different Uma Musu so quickly. She'd personally co to confirm it.
Honestly, Kitahara didn't want to let any of them inside.
He even briefly entertained the idea of slamming the door shut in their faces, imdiately crawling back into bed, and letting them wait outside—teaching them firsthand why a corporate slave's holiday was sacred and inviolable.
But, of course, that was rely a fleeting fantasy.
If he dared follow through, his dorm door would probably be smashed to bits monts later, and he'd learn firsthand why humans couldn't resist Uma Musu.
With a resigned sigh, Kitahara stepped aside to allow them inside.
In truth, although inviting girls into a male trainer's dorm sounded questionable, at Tracen, this was perfectly acceptable.
Despite being labeled "dorms," trainer housing at Tracen was essentially an apartnt-style arrangent, comprising a private bedroom and a spacious office area—more like offices with attached living quarters.
This layout existed partly for trainers' convenience, accommodating their frequent overti—but also due to certain "incidents" from several years earlier.
Apparently, in the past, trainer dormitories and offices at Tracen were separate buildings, resembling a typical campus setup.
But over ti, trainers increasingly reported missing belongings: whenever they left for their offices, their dorms would get burglarized; whenever they returned ho, their offices would beco targets.
Initially, the Chairwoman had dismissed these complaints as minor nuisances—especially compared to trainers suffering broken pelvises or mysterious basent confinent.
Until trainers themselves began going missing.
Shortly after that, dormitories and offices rged into their current layout, complete with enhanced soundproofing.
Don't ask why, Kitahara neither knew nor wanted to know.
Despite this unsettling history, Kitahara wasn't particularly worried he'd suffer a similar fate.
The reason?
Simply put: he'd diligently maintained appropriate distance with all his assigned Uma Musu.
According to his earlier assessnt, the only genuine threat was Agnes Tachyon, currently holding unknown experintal potions and clearly plotting how to force him to drink them.
The others were harmless: Tokai Teio had purely monetary interests; Oguri Cap cared only for food; Special Week was a lovable fool; Grass Wonder had eyes exclusively for Special Week. And as for Eclipse…
Eclipse was unavoidable. Considering their unique circumstances, he'd long since resigned himself to fate.
In short, he was perfectly secure, in no danger whatsoever of following his unfortunate predecessors.
Feeling much lighter now, Kitahara pulled out so snacks he'd purchased earlier, placing them neatly on the coffee table. Facing the gathered Uma Musu, he spoke sternly:
"I need to finish developing running styles for Special Week and Oguri Cap. Those of you without urgent matters, just sit quietly here and entertain yourselves. For non-urgent issues, wait until I'm done. And absolutely no disruptions, understood?"
"Yes, Trainer-san!" they answered in perfect unison.
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