The word "actor" typically refers to soone performing a role. But in the world of Uma Musu, this term has a rather unique aning.
In the Uma Musu ga, before the actual race begins, the system assesses your Uma Musu's attributes and skills compared to her opponents and predicts the outco.
Sotis, your Uma Musu might have overwhelming stats, the perfect skill set, and the system even declares her a "top favorite." In other words, it's a situation where defeat is basically inconceivable.
Then you get "Perfect Condition," "Most Popular," and… "18th Place."
Translated into human terms:
She had the highest popularity, the best pre-race condition, and practically everyone believed she'd win.
And then, she finishes dead last.
An Uma Musu like that is called an "actor," and the absolute cream of the crop among actors earns the title "Oscar Winner."
Agnes Tachyon was exactly that kind of Uma Musu.
It might sound impossible—Agnes Tachyon had only just joined Kitahara Sota's team, hadn't even competed yet, hadn't had a chance to sabotage him. So how could he possibly tell she was an actor?
The answer lay in the details.
"I admit, your data on paper is outstanding. Honestly, saying you're rely among the top-tier is being modest. You definitely have the ability to compete with, or even surpass, the other elite Uma Musu."
"But that's only your paper stats."
"I can tell you've maintained your body well, even without official races. You've been training consistently and have probably taught yourself quite a bit about trainer thods. Given your understanding of your body, you must have developed a specialized training plan, which seems to be working quite well."
"But—you've relied too heavily on surface-level data and overlooked many other crucial factors."
Kitahara Sota sighed helplessly after finishing his explanation.
Agnes Tachyon's strength was unquestionable. As a mad scientist type, her learning ability was top-notch, and creating her own training plans posed no problem. In terms of theory alone, she might even surpass experienced trainers.
But that was theory.
For trainers, practical experience was far more important than textbook knowledge. Not just slightly more important—far more important.
Because every Uma Musu was unique.
Family background, personality, eating habits, instincts, even small daily quirks—each contributed to significant differences. Textbook theories offered general guidelines that fit most cases, but there were always exceptions. That was when experience beca critical.
Agnes Tachyon was overly reliant on theoretical knowledge, which ended up becoming chains restricting her.
Her visible stats were excellent, her running showed no issues, and she was particularly impressive in mid-distance races. Skills based on intelligence, such as race tactics and timing, were certainly solid. On paper, her strength was formidable.
But Kitahara Sota was absolutely certain: the mont she stepped onto the track against peers, she'd lose so badly even her mother wouldn't recognize her.
Because she had too many hidden issues.
The most dangerous of all was her physical condition.
Although she exercised regularly and showed no visible problems during routine tests, the toll of irregular sleep schedules and unhealthy eating habits from spending prolonged periods in the lab had silently accumulated within her body.
None of this damage was visible on the outside yet. But once she began racing at her absolute limits, these hidden issues would beco ticking bombs. Any single one could explode, instantly sinking her.
And that was only her most severe issue. Besides that, there were nurous smaller problems—not critical individually, not visible on the surface, but absurdly nurous.
As an analogy, Agnes Tachyon might have 100 points of strength, but she carried over a hundred minor debuffs, each with around a 1% chance of activating.
One debuff activating would limit her maximum performance to about 80 points; two would doom her entirely.
Though her stats were impressive and other aspects excellent, truly unleashing her full potential required miraculous luck—sothing nearly impossible in reality.
This was why Kitahara called her an actor.
Initially, Agnes Tachyon had been smiling as Kitahara spoke. But as he elaborated further, her smile gradually faded, her head slowly lowering, lost in thought.
"In summary, these are the 174 issues I've currently identified. Although all Uma Musu have so problems, you're the first I've ever seen with this many."
Kitahara sighed inwardly. After wandering all these years and seeing countless Uma Musu, he'd thought nothing could surprise him anymore. Yet Agnes Tachyon had truly broadened his horizons.
He hadn't spotted her issues earlier partly because she'd not officially joined him then, so he hadn't scrutinized her seriously. Another reason was that Agnes Tachyon herself had handled the most obvious problems due to her high theoretical knowledge.
The remaining subtle issues were incredibly difficult to detect. Even seasoned trainers might only realize them after races, baffled at how good an "actor" she was.
After a long silence, Agnes Tachyon lifted her head and seriously asked:
"Is there a way to fix this?"
"There is, but it'll be troubleso and requires a huge amount of ti and energy," Kitahara sighed. "Also, don't count on solving this with potions. From my analysis, many of your problems ca from excessive potion use. What seed convenient at the ti has left lasting hidden dangers."
It might not seem severe; after all, these were minor issues that could be managed over ti.
The problem was precisely that—Agnes Tachyon didn't have much ti left.
Unlike Special Week or Oguri Cap, she wasn't early in her "debut" period. In fact, she was already well into it, relatively late compared to other Uma Musu.
Uma Musu races had career-length limitations—not just to protect rookies, but also to preserve the dignity of past champions.
Three years marked the pri "debut period." Afterward began the decline.
Although gradual, in races where every second counted, even slight deterioration could cost victory.
Year one was about adapting under a trainer's guidance.
Year two was about gaining experience, starting minor races, and slowly stepping into Grade races (G1, G2, G3).
Year three was peak physical condition, where legends were born, participating in intense and nurous high-level races.
Year four, after the pri period, was considered decline, yet many legends reached new heights by relying more on technical skill and less on raw power. Races beca a refined balance of strength and technique, often surpassing third-year performances.
But by year five, deterioration beca stark, both physically and ntally.
Uma Musu who once tasted glory would suffer seeing their abilities fade. Talent, victories, and hope gradually slipped away, no matter how hard they struggled.
Yet, even when everything else faded, trainers remained.
Now you know why Tracen trainers have such notoriously high turnover rates, right?
Applying this back to Agnes Tachyon, the seriousness beca clear. Her pri was nearly over, yet she'd just chosen a trainer. Racing now was feasible, but taking the ti to solve all her issues would push her past optimal racing age.
She could race and resolve issues simultaneously, but losing races repeatedly would severely damage her ntality—far worse than her existing problems.
Agnes Tachyon knew all this very well from theory alone.
After prolonged silence, she suddenly chuckled softly, her usual smile returning to her face.
"No need to worry. My primary job is research anyway. Racing is just for funding. At worst, I'll just lose my first year. I don't really mind—"
Thwack!
Kitahara lightly tapped her head with his clipboard, interrupting her.
"If you truly didn't care, you wouldn't have chosen to debut at this ti."
He withdrew his clipboard, not bothering to glance at her again, sighing wearily.
"In short, it's troubleso, but I'll help find a solution since I've agreed to beco your trainer."
"However, I have one condition. From now on, you must listen to everything I say—not just during training, but even what you eat and wear in daily life."
Agnes Tachyon froze briefly, her smile faltering for an instant before returning, now tinged with an odd hint of aning.
"Ara... You an I have to obey everything you say? Guinea Pig-kun, you wouldn't be plotting sothing inappropriate, would you?"
Bonk!
The clipboard landed harder this ti. Agnes Tachyon watched it co but didn't block or dodge, simply smiling as it struck her.
"Stop causing trouble," Kitahara said, rolling his eyes.
He turned away, looking toward Special Week, who was staggering around with a confused expression.
"I've still got plenty to handle."
Agnes Tachyon blinked innocently. "Do you need my help, Guinea Pig-kun?"
He gave her a pointed glare.
"Not causing trouble is the best help you can give right now."
User Comments
0 comments from readers