Chapter 163: Is My Reincarnation Cheat Glitched? You Mean It’s Weak?

Two days have passed since I finished the interview at Longchamp Racecourse right after entering the country.

A lot happened during those two days.

Ayumu-san didn’t exactly scold me, but I did receive a gentle lecture.

"Don’t you think you went a little overboard? Could you at least keep it under ten minutes?"

"The atmosphere afterward was intense, and the reaction online has been huge."

"Personally, I was very happy… but things like that are better saved for when we’re alone… okay?"

That night, right before bed, I finally calmed down. Then, still riding the emotional high, I clutched my pillow and kicked my legs in mortified embarrassment over what I had done.

On a whim, I even tried ego-searching and discovered an overwhelming number of people claiming to have suffered “brain destruction,” which left me with… complicated feelings.

…You know, “brain destruction” is funny—or infuriating—when you’re just a spectator. But when you’re the one it’s supposedly happening to? It feels strangely awkward.

If I had actually been someone’s girlfriend or wife and then been stolen away, I might think, Ah… I’m sorry.

But I don’t know these people’s faces or names. At most, I can assume they’re my fans.

So when they say, “She was taken from us,” my only reaction is… I was never theirs to begin with.

I love my fans dearly—but that love is “like,” not “romantic love.” It’s affection, not devotion. I don’t mind if someone directs romantic feelings at me, but as an idol, as an athlete, and as a young maiden, I can’t reciprocate them. Even if they feel betrayed… I’m sorry I can’t meet those expectations, but there’s nothing I can do.

Ah. Maybe this is how the heroine in BSS or WSS stories feels.

“I like you, but not in that way.” It’s less “Sorry I betrayed you,” and more “I’m sorry I couldn’t return your feelings and ended up hurting you.”

Wow. I suddenly understand. I’ve gained a piece of knowledge that will absolutely never be useful in my life.

…And this is the first profound realization I have after coming to France? What does that say about me as a racing Uma Musume?

I really do fail to hit the mark at the most important moments.

Anyway, after a few days, excitement and heightened emotions fade—whether good or bad.

Embarrassment, awkwardness, the thrill of being in a foreign country… all those temporary emotions gradually settled, and I slowly began to regain my composure.

"Will, I made curry today, just like you requested."

"Yay, curry! I love Willm curry!"

"It might not pair perfectly, but here’s the promised miso soup—and ham salad, too. Oh, and pick a dressing from these."

"Yaaay, Japanese-style dressing! Zero France vibes! Zero! Zero!"

Okay, that was a lie. I’m not calm at all.

I mean, come on!

Living together with the person you like for three whole months!

He cooks incredibly delicious meals! He cleans perfectly! When I come home tired, he’s there waiting for me—my super-perfect partner!!

And if I ask nicely, he’ll even lie down beside me until I fall asleep (strictly until I fall asleep)!!!

How am I supposed to stay calm in this situation?! That’s impossible!!

You there, laughing at me! Could you stay composed in this environment?!

Oh, you could? Amazing. Please become my master.

I may have the mind of someone who went all the way through university in my previous life, but this body is still that of a middle schooler. Apparently, the mind gets dragged around by the body more than I thought, because my mentality has completely regressed to middle school level. Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing.

And even in my previous life—and in my early childhood this time—I wasn’t exactly… stable. So I’m extremely weak against genuine kindness and warmth.

In short, I am ridiculously weak against Ayumu-san, who showers me with infinite love (directed at me as a racing Uma Musume). I am very, very weak.

If we’re living together like this, getting excited is unavoidable.

---

That said, while I’m still floating on cloud nine, it’s true that I’m gradually getting used to life in France.

Ayumu-san watched me happily shovel curry into my mouth and smiled.

"...All right. It’s about time."

"Mmhmm?"

"Starting tomorrow, how about we try running on the turf here?"

Horino Ayumu is an extremely cautious trainer.

He taps on a stone bridge, taps it again, taps it again—and eventually smashes it apart, muttering, “Ah, so the durability wasn’t sufficient after all,” before deciding to build a reinforced concrete bridge instead. That’s the kind of slightly troublesome but oddly charming person he is.

Even after arriving in France, that attitude hasn’t changed.

“First, we adjust your body to the environment and the time difference,” he insisted, forbidding me from running on turf.

I thought, Isn’t running itself fine? I can just pace myself.

He looked at me completely serious and said, "If you run on turf, you’ll have too much fun and won’t stop."

As expected of my trainer. He knows me too well.

But at last, I seem to have earned his approval. I’ve finally been granted permission to run on turf.

In other words… full training and self-practice unlocked!!

All right! I’m going to run so much!!!

"Thirty minutes of self-training today to prepare for tomorrow. I’ve already sent the permitted running area to your app."

"Yes, sir…"

---

Racing Uma Musume competitions are globally popular content.

Actually, “popular” is putting it lightly.

It’s probably fair to say they are the single most beloved form of entertainment in the world.

In my previous life, I don’t think there was any single piece of content this overwhelmingly dominant. It’s hard to describe, but imagine combining professional soccer, baseball, and the entire idol industry in Japan—and not even dividing the result. Something like that.

Tens of thousands watch our races live in real time.

But hundreds of thousands—millions—watch later via video. Add in our idol performances, and our fanbase easily reaches into the tens of millions.

In my previous world, very few people had zero exposure to global sporting events like the Olympics or professional baseball.

In this world, it’s the same with Uma Musume. The minority are those who don’t watch us.

That’s natural here—but carrying memories from my previous life, I know how extraordinary that is.

Our races pierce through personal preferences and tastes and resonate directly with people’s hearts.

As an athlete, it’s deeply gratifying.

And as a result, if someone like Hoshino Willm performs as explosively as I have, there’s practically no one in Japan who doesn’t know her name or face.

Apparently, my name is fairly well known even in America, where dirt tracks dominate—or so Ayumu-san says.

Of course, in Japan, Nature, Teio, McQueen-senpai, and the Dream Trophy seniors following behind me are also hugely popular.

Nature has been appearing more on radio and video streams lately, and she’s pulling numbers several times higher than professional talkers. Even as someone who used to be an otaku, watching her win by sheer name recognition over seasoned pros gives me complicated feelings.

Anyway.

The point is, racing Uma Musume competitions are a massive global phenomenon.

And naturally, at that scale, there are proper specialized training facilities for competitors.

France apparently has quite a few facilities for Dream Trophy League graduates and overseas Uma Musume like me who can’t use local Tracen facilities.

Ayumu-san rented one fairly close to our love nest (love nest!).

Our main event is the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe at Longchamp.

Before that, the Prix Foy at the same course might as well be considered a main event too.

European racecourses—Longchamp in particular—are apparently very different from those in Japan.

I entered during the interview, but I haven’t actually run there yet, so I can’t say for certain. Still, from the course maps Ayumu-san showed me, the track layout, railings, display boards—all of it differs significantly from Japan.

And among those differences, the biggest obstacle facing Japanese Uma Musume is…

The turf. And the racing style that comes with it.

"Turf used in races can be divided into two types: noshiba and yoshiba."

In the car heading toward the rental turf facility, Ayumu-san uses the spare time for a mini-lecture.

I like these moments.

Unlike school classes that teach distant knowledge I may never use, Ayumu-san teaches practical, indispensable information. It naturally sparks my interest—and with the Ayumu-san bonus, the fun triples.

"There was something about that in class! I don’t really remember it, though."

"For reference, the Central Japan Tracen curriculum covers this in the autumn of first year."

"...Isn’t remembering the names impressive enough?"

"Very impressive. 150 points."

"Hehe."

Joking aside—

"So, noshiba and yoshiba?"

"Noshina—put simply—is the turf you ran on in Japan."

"I see. Which means yoshiba is…"

"Yes. The turf used here."

According to him, European yoshiba has several characteristics.

Compared to noshiba, it grows longer and is softer, with denser underground stems.

Noshina forms thick, interwoven underground stems, while yoshiba consists of many thin stems layered together.

Because of this, it drains water less efficiently and tends to deteriorate more easily in poor conditions.

It also has weaker rebound compared to noshiba and requires more power to run on.

As a result, times tend to be slower.

…In other words, it’s harder to run fast and demands more power.

Got it!

"Doesn’t sound like you’ve fully grasped it… Well, you’re about to experience it firsthand anyway.

Next, the difference in race style between Japan and the West. Because the turf is different, races in Japan and races in Europe differ quite significantly."

"Well, that makes perfect sense. Different battlefield, different tactics. Like the difference between turf and dirt in Japan."

"Exactly. I appreciate how quick you are.

Generally speaking, turf acts as a cushion and is easier to run on, whereas dirt requires significantly more power. That’s why power-focused Uma Musume tend to excel there. The baseline power required for races increases, and so does the explosive acceleration needed to gain speed instantly.

And this trait—being ‘hard to run fast on’—also applies to European turf. Because of that, in recent years, there’s even been talk that dirt-oriented Uma Musume might have a better chance at winning the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe than turf specialists."

"Well, a turf Uma Musume is winning this year, so that theory’s probably about to lose credibility."

"Your statements are way too bold… I agree, though."

Honestly, is there any world where Ayumu-san and I lose?

He said this year’s field is relatively modest.

I mean, if a monster on Teio’s level shows up, that could make things interesting, but…

"By the way, slightly off topic—what happened to that girl? The one who supposedly started paying attention to me?"

The Uma Musume we’d heard about before leaving Japan. The one who might suddenly surge upward.

I realized I hadn’t heard any updates lately.

"…………"

"Why that ominous silence?"

Ayumu-san’s quiet hesitation confused me. As he turned slightly during a curve, I caught a glimpse of his profile.

He looked just as perplexed as I felt.

"...Honestly, I don’t know."

"You don’t know? You?"

"There are things even I can’t predict. Especially when it comes to strong racing Uma Musume."

Still looking ahead at the road, hands steady on the wheel, he spoke thoughtfully.

"I reviewed her past data. From Junior Class through early Classic Class, her stats weren’t particularly high.

And yet, at debut, her ability was extraordinarily elevated. Frankly, on par with you at enrollment—at a level ordinary Uma Musume couldn’t hope to beat.

The growth was far too abrupt. I suspect the cause was you, but…"

"Me?"

Back then… that would have been January or February, right?

All I remember is happily flirting with Ayumu-san, catastrophically losing the New Year’s lottery, and being made to greet President Rudolf.

I don’t recall interacting with any overseas Uma Musume.

"Racing Uma Musume can experience explosive growth when they become conscious of a powerful rival.

Teio at last year’s Derby is a perfect example. After suffering a crushing defeat to you in the Satsuki Sho, she didn’t rely on elaborate tactics—she simply chased you down head-on.

Physical distance doesn’t matter. What matters is ‘awareness.’ It’s easier to fixate on someone nearby, but in this era, being inspired by someone far away isn’t unusual.

So once again, your achievements awakened another Uma Musume."

"Wow… so other Uma Musume just get stronger on their own without me doing anything? That’s amazing!"

"Scary berserker…"

He muttered that with mild alarm.

How rude. You’re the one who taught me what true heat feels like and turned me into this berserker.

When I puffed my cheeks in protest, he cleared his throat.

"Ahem. …Anyway, as for her actual potential, it’s honestly unknown how far she’ll go from here.

Before, you were a distant presence she couldn’t even feel. Now, you’re within reach.

We don’t know how much that awareness will push her."

"Heh. Sounds like it’ll be a fun match. Don’t tell me… I might lose?"

"I’ll win."

"Please don’t phrase it like that. It sounds like you’re raising a flag."

"Eh? Why?"

Just a feeling.

"...Right, we’ve drifted off topic. Back to race styles.

Japanese noshiba produces higher speeds and is often called ‘high-speed racing.’ The base pace is fast, so the relative increase during the final spurt tends to be smaller.

European yoshiba, on the other hand, doesn’t allow sustained high speeds. That’s why explosive acceleration in the final stretch becomes terrifying. The battles in the early and middle stages also tend to be fiercer."

"I see… So for Japanese Uma Musume who aren’t used to intense jostling, front-running or stalking might be pretty tough? And they’d also be at a disadvantage in a final acceleration duel."

"C'est exact. Precisely. That’s why, a few years ago, El Condor Pasa adopted such a dramatic front-running strategy."

Ahh, that makes sense.

Running styles like stalker or closer depend heavily on positioning within the pack. But if you match the base pace of a European field, you’ll likely lose the late-stage acceleration battle.

"So in that sense, front-running—or maybe deep-closing—would be effective? …Though as a closer, you’d still struggle in a pure final-spurt showdown. The baseline acceleration at the end is probably different from Japan’s.

Wouldn’t pure front-running—ignoring the pack and setting your own optimal pace—be best?"

"Close," Ayumu-san replied.

"That used to be the mainstream thinking. But after reflecting on El Condor Pasa’s attempt, European teams began countering it. They’d mark the leader with a rabbit to force her to overexert.

As a result, nowadays people even say you simply can’t win the Arc by front-running."

"Rabbit… that’s—"

"A teammate deliberately increases the pace to disrupt a rival and set up a stronger stablemate to win. It’s a common Western tactic. And this time, someone will likely try to make you overexert yourself too."

"Hmm. I doubt that tactic would be well received in Japan. Even if it does increase win probability."

People would call it unfair. They’d say it’s cruel to the rabbit.

Personally, if the Uma Musume herself accepts the role, I think it’s fine.

If she decides, “I don’t need to win. As long as we win,” then that’s a legitimate strategy—and a formidable one.

For outsiders who aren’t even competing to interfere? That feels misplaced.

But from a fan’s perspective, I understand why it’s unpopular. After all, I used to be an otaku.

In cases like this, public sentiment usually prioritizes the fan viewpoint over the athlete’s. In Japan, rabbit tactics probably won’t become mainstream anytime soon.

As I was thinking that, Ayumu-san let out a small chuckle.

"Well, it wouldn’t work on you anyway."

"Obviously. No offense, but if someone’s playing rabbit, that means they’re not a top-tier threat capable of beating me themselves. I’m not the type to panic just because someone like that tries to provoke me."

Watching girls like Bourbon-chan makes it clear that Uma Musume still retain instincts from their equine past lives.

No matter who the opponent is, their mere presence can ignite instinct and cause them to overheat.

That seems to be the norm—unless you’re an absurd genius like Teio.

But me?

Maybe because my previous life’s soul is mixed in or something, I just don’t have that weakness.

Not even a little.

I don’t lose control just because someone strong happens to be standing there.

Even if that rival were someone with deep history like Nature or Teio, it wouldn’t change things.

Well… I might get irritated by provocation and overheat a little.

Nature, especially, is good at stirring up emotions. If she tried to make me lose control strategically, it’s entirely possible she could pull it off.

Still, the mere fact that I don’t have that instinctive tendency to overheat is apparently an exceptional advantage for an Uma Musume.

"A runaway specialist with a unique trait that renders rabbit tactics ineffective, unaffected by the pack, and capable of reliably securing a favorable position.

In that sense, you might be the most advantaged Japanese Uma Musume in the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe."

That was Ayumu-san’s conclusion. But then he added:

"However, that advantage is only relative to other Japanese Uma Musume. If you don’t adapt to European turf, victory will remain out of reach.

Which is why we’ll address that first and foremost. I’ll permit you to use ‘that.’"

---

We arrived at the facility Ayumu-san had rented.

This time, not as an idol Uma Musume—but as a racing Uma Musume—I stepped onto the turf.

The very first thing I noticed was exactly what he’d described: the feel of the grass was completely different from Japan’s.

"Soft… no, heavy?"

It felt like my feet were sinking slightly. Unstable. Strange.

I wouldn’t call it an entirely different species of grass—but the sensation was distinct enough that describing it as a completely different battlefield felt accurate.

"Hmm…"

"Think you can handle it, Will?"

"...Honestly, I can’t say for sure. So I’ll use ‘that’ right away."

"Good. Go ahead."

"Yes!"

With his permission, I started running.

One step. Two. Three.

Carefully accelerating to avoid any accidents—

On the fourth step, I activated it.

My greatest power.

"Anime Reincarnation."

It’s probably one of my reincarnation perks.

Put simply, it massively boosts my cognitive processing while I’m running.

Duration: roughly thirty seconds. Once used, it can’t be activated again for several hours.

That’s the rough outline of what is likely my reincarnation bonus.

The moment it activates, my perception of time slows dramatically.

Human time perception isn’t absolute—it’s relative and subjective. When you’re bored, time drags. When you’re having fun, it flies.

In my case, the slowdown isn’t just mental—it’s almost physical.

It’s a drastic increase in processing speed relative to incoming information.

Information that would normally take one full second to process gets handled in one-hundredth of a second, leaving surplus cognitive capacity to analyze, calculate, and strategize.

The closest comparison—dark as it is—would be a near-death “life flashing before your eyes” phenomenon.

There’s a theory that when facing mortal danger, the brain rapidly reviews one’s life to search for survival strategies. To facilitate that, perception slows.

My "Anime Reincarnation" functions similarly. As my thought speed increases, time appears to slow in inverse proportion.

With every step, I can analyze the turf’s structure, adjust my foot placement, monitor imaginary competitors, and calculate stamina expenditure—all simultaneously.

Even now, before planting my fifth step, I’ve already analyzed the turf and drafted a running model—while still having room to think like this.

Cheats are terrifying.

Anyway.

As my fifth step meets the ground, I advance the plan.

Everything Ayumu-san taught me in the car—the differences between noshiba and yoshiba.

He was right. The turf here feels like it swallows my feet slightly.

It demands power. It reminds me somewhat of dirt training sessions.

Maybe dirt specialists really could perform better here.

Still, adaptation is required.

If the ground sinks and rebound is weak, that means I must drive harder into it.

And greater force means greater stamina consumption.

The Arc is 2400 meters.

But factoring in the elevated power demands, converting it into Japanese conditions…

The stamina cost would be closer to 2800 or even 2900 meters.

Right—Japan and the world classify race distances differently.

In Japan, middle distance spans 1800 to 2499 meters.

Globally, middle distance is around 1900 to 2100 meters.

Which makes the 2400-meter Arc categorized as Long.

At first, that classification felt odd.

But on this turf?

Yes. 2400 meters is undeniably long distance. A stayer’s domain.

Which means—

It’s my territory.

Correct angle.

Correct force application.

Correct leg drive.

If you step properly, the turf responds.

And all required parameters have already been calculated.

"...Hah!!"

Fifth step.

I surge forward, accelerating instantly to my own mid-race pace.

There’s risk in pushing speed on unfamiliar turf—falls, twisted ankles—

But not while "Anime Reincarnation" is active.

As long as my mind is operating at full capacity, danger can be anticipated and avoided. Exhibit A: past near-miss incidents during self-training with Rice-chan.

On the sixth step, I correct minor deviations detected on the fifth.

Seventh. Eighth.

With each stride, my form sharpens.

By the time the thirty seconds expire—

I’m not quite at my Japanese standard.

But I’m presentable.

Not bad, if I say so myself.

If I keep this up daily… I probably won’t embarrass myself in the Prix Foy.

After a five-minute trial run, I jog back to Ayumu-san.

He’s staring back and forth between me and his tablet, brows furrowed.

"In this short time, estimated aptitude from G to E…? And during increased cognitive state, B? What is that… what…?"

…

Did I do something again?