Chapter 178: If Makoto Were an Umamusume
When Agnes Tachyon looked his way, Makoto couldn't help feeling vaguely uncomfortable all over.
He had never been good at dealing with Umamusume whose personalities were especially unconventional, much less when he couldn't tell what she was actually planning to do.
That said, what happened next was completely unexpected.
Makoto had assumed that once Agnes Tachyon came back, she would start saying something bizarre—talk about dissections, human experiments, or the like.
Instead, just like the middle-aged doctor, she calmly and professionally explained Kitasan Black's current condition and offered several medical recommendations.
While this surprised Makoto, his attention was soon unconsciously drawn to the data and advice themselves.
Maximum oxygen uptake power, blood lactate threshold, fast-twitch muscle fiber ratio, muscle stiffness, reaction time, body fat percentage—
Judging from the full set of indicators, Kitasan Black's overall condition was excellent. Most of her values were above average, fully in line with the state expected of a Classic-year G1-level Umamusume.
The recommendation based on this was simple: maintain the current training regimen.
Beyond that, however, Agnes Tachyon deliberately singled out one particular metric.
"An average rate of 26, huh… Looks like my earlier hypothesis was correct."
She set the medical report down and looked at Makoto with clear interest.
"You really did realize what Kitasan Black was lacking."
"We've known each other long enough, so I'll just be straightforward."
"Could you make a copy of Kitasan Black's training log and give it to me?"
Makoto had been reading Kitasan Black's report when he suddenly froze. He looked at Agnes Tachyon with a strange expression.
"…So from the very beginning, this is what you were aiming for?"
"Well… not entirely."
A half-smile appeared on Agnes Tachyon's face, but her gaze gradually grew serious.
"You should be well aware of what the standard of '26' represents, shouldn't you?"
After hesitating for a moment and thinking it over, Makoto nodded. Even though he still couldn't quite grasp Agnes Tachyon's purpose, he understood what she was referring to.
The number she mentioned was Kitasan Black's current average heart rate.
For ordinary people, the average heart rate is roughly 60 to 100 beats per minute. Umamusume, however, have much stronger cardiac muscles, so they only need about half that frequency to supply even greater energy throughout the body.
More specifically, an Umamusume's average heart rate is usually around 30 to 40.
Among athletes, there exists a phenomenon known as the "athlete's heart," and Umamusume is no exception.
The most obvious hallmark of an Umamusume's athletic heart is an even lower heart rate.
A lower heart rate means the heart needs fewer beats to meet the body's functional demands—and also that, when necessary, it can deliver far more powerful energy output.
Makoto had known this theory even before becoming a trainer, and after signing a contract with Kitasan Black, he had confirmed these parameters at the earliest opportunity.
Kitasan Black had a very strong foundation and excellent physical constitution.
However, some key benchmarks had not yet reached the level required to fully bring out that foundation and physique—heart rate being one of them.
Because of this, even if she wanted to increase her speed in training or on the race track, she simply couldn't do so from an energy-supply standpoint alone.
After confirming this, Makoto had deliberately arranged training intensities close to the upper limit. This was his approach to maximizing improvements in cardiac and other functions while minimizing the risk of injury.
The problem was that behind this line of thinking lay a whole set of concrete arrangements—and from what Agnes Tachyon was saying, it sounded as though she had noticed he possessed this capability from the very beginning.
So… how had she discovered it?
As he sat there quietly, his mind full of questions, Agnes Tachyon suddenly flashed over from behind the desk. She planted both hands on the back of the chair behind Makoto and stared straight at him.
Her crimson eyes were wide open, blazing with intensity. That gaze seemed intent on seeing straight through him, probing into the depths of his very soul.
"I don't know how you've trained yourself," she said. "But if you were an Umamusume—"
The opening words were relatively calm, but then a tremor crept into her voice, quickly swelling into something sharp and fervent.
"—you would absolutely become one of the greatest of all time!"
The sleeves of her white coat flared wildly as she flung her arms outward, several thin notebooks with curled edges tumbling out from inside.
Before they could hit the floor, the suddenly frenzied Umamusume snatched them up and began flipping through them with a loud rustle.
"Cardiopulmonary function! Internal circulation! Muscular strength!"
"Perfect! Absolutely perfect! The results from your physical exam the last time you came to the hospital—every single metric was perfect!"
"I've never seen such a flawless human body structure!"
Then her tone abruptly shifted, filling with deep regret and a faint, trembling resentment.
"But… what a pity. It's such a pity that you aren't an Umamusume…"
"If you were, then where exactly does the feasible limit sleeping within our legs lie? Just how far could we really run?"
"What kind of mysterious scenery is hidden beyond that point—the ultimate boundary within possibility, and the breathtaking landscape that lies beyond even that…"
Her eyes gradually grew unfocused, as though she had fallen into a dreamlike fantasy.
Immersed in that illusion, the expression on her face grew increasingly unhinged, as if the entire world had narrowed down to nothing but her mad pursuit of speed and limits.
Her fingertips trembled slightly, yet her fingers clutched tightly at the frayed notebooks. Her other hand reached upward toward the space above her head, as if trying to grasp some distant, unattainable dream.
Suddenly—like being jolted awake by an icy wind—the madness vanished from Agnes Tachyon's face without a trace, replaced by a suffocating stiffness.
She froze there for a long while, as though time itself had stopped.
Then, as if to shatter the oppressive atmosphere, she abruptly bared her teeth in a somewhat feral grin.
She pulled a piece of gummy candy from her pocket and mechanically stuffed it into her mouth, chewing slowly.
That chewing motion looked like an attempt to calm the turbulent emotions inside her.
After a few bites, she slowly raised her head and looked at the stunned Makoto.
She grinned again and blinked, a faint residue of fervor still lingering in her eyes.
"Sorry. I probably scared you, Yasui-kun. And…"
She nodded toward the equally startled middle-aged doctor, then turned her gaze back to Makoto.
"Back to the same question as before—if possible, the training logs… what do you say?"
Still seated stiffly in the chair, Makoto stared at Agnes Tachyon, whose emotions had swung like a roller coaster before his eyes.
Her frenzied figure from just moments ago still seemed to flicker before him, her impassioned words echoing in his ears. It left him deeply shaken.
And yet, beneath that shock, a sense of understanding and sympathy rose unbidden in his heart.
He, too, had pursued speed and limits with the same kind of madness.
If not for that, he wouldn't have ended up in this world.
Perhaps it was precisely because of that shared pursuit and those similar regrets that the Umamusume before him harbored such a bone-deep, inescapable unwillingness to let go—becoming so obsessive in her exploration of unknown limits.
Or perhaps, she had simply always been this obsessive.
"I understand…"
After a moment of inner turmoil, carrying that understanding for Agnes Tachyon, Makoto took a deep breath and spoke slowly.
"I can make a copy of Kita's training logs, along with some of my own personal insights, and give them to you."
"But you have to promise that they'll only be used for your personal research. Without my permission, you must not disclose them to any third party."
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