Toujou Kaisoku was no stranger to working with her hands.
The skills she’d honed from living alone in her past life hadn’t degraded just because she’d been reborn into a different body.
When she picked up the kitchen knife, it felt as natural as breathing.
She curled her fingers inward into a cat’s-claw grip, pinning the helpless little scallions in place, and her right hand came down like a flash of silver.
Tak-tak-tak-tak—the blade hammered the cutting board in rapid succession, reducing the scallions into uniformly sized pieces.
A flick of the knife swept them off the board and into a small bowl, ready for use.
“You’re really handy with that knife.
Do you cook at home a lot?” Sakura Star O’s eyes lit up.
“That’s not the kind of skill you’d expect from a sixteen-year-old.”
“Just a survival skill from living on my own.” Kaisoku played it down with practiced modesty.
After all, the extent of her culinary ambitions had been snipping scallions from a tiny flower pot to sprinkle over instant noodles.
That was how she’d built up her knife work—gradually, one garnish at a time.
It wasn’t limited to scallions, either.
Given the right ingredients, she could whip up a perfectly respectable spread of home-style dishes on the spot.
The catch was that while she had the skills to cook, she had zero patience for cleanup.
Every post-cooking triumph ended with her staring at a table full of dirty plates and bowls in existential despair.
“That’s already impressive.
Most kids can’t cook at all.” Sakura Star O praised her with a warm smile.
“All right, go sit down.
Tachyon and the others should be coming down soon.”
Kaisoku nodded.
Sure enough, she’d barely returned to her seat when Gold Ship came thundering down the stairs with an irritated-looking umamusume in a white lab coat.
Behind them trailed two more residents who, while lacking the lab coat’s immediate visual impact, each had their own distinctive presence.
The one who caught Kaisoku’s eye was the umamusume draped in black from head to toe.
Her first thought was—damn, what I wouldn’t give for that volume of hair.
Then she remembered she was a sixteen-year-old girl in the bloom of youth and probably didn’t need to worry about that yet.
“Oh my, oh my—sukiyaki, is it?
I do prefer the convenience of konbini oden, but sukiyaki with raw egg is always the top-tier choice.
Has something good happened, Star O?” The chestnut-haired umamusume in the lab coat surveyed the spread with the air of a food critic.
“I can understand choosing a menu based on one’s mood—I do the same, after all.
But interrupting a critical stage of my experiment is quite vexing.
Especially when you send Gold Ship, of all people, who has absolutely no appreciation for the importance of scientific work.
That was a miscalculation on your part, Star O.”
“So what you’re saying, Tachyon, is that your totally unnecessary experiment wasn’t going anywhere, you were frustrated, and you decided to use Gold Ship as an excuse to take it out on someone.
Is that about right?” Sakura Star O said, still smiling serenely.
“That won’t do, Tachyon.
Even experiments can’t interfere with dinner.
So forgive Gold Ship, won’t you?
I’m sure she’ll reflect on her behavior.”
“Washing your hands of it in three sentences flat…
classic Star O.” Agnes Tachyon nodded.
“Right, so what’s the occasion for this feast?”
“We’re welcoming our new resident, of course.
I told you this morning, Tachyon, remember?” Sakura Star O replied.
“You always forget the simplest things but can retain the most complex data sets.
Quite remarkable, really.”
“Ha ha ha—well, the brain’s storage capacity should be reserved for what’s truly important.” Agnes Tachyon laughed, then turned her gaze on Kaisoku.
“Ah, so this little rabbit of a girl is our newcomer?
How should I put this…
I sense no wildness in her.”
“…Wildness?” Kaisoku fell into genuine contemplation over Tachyon’s assessment.
Did lacking wildness mean she lacked aggression?
She didn’t get to think about it long before Agnes Tachyon closed the distance and leaned in to scrutinize her face, muttering under her breath.
“Just as I thought—even more exceptional than I imagined.
The ability, the talent, and this timid personality on top of it all…
did I just hit the jackpot?”
“…Um…
Tachyon-san?” Every alarm in Kaisoku’s head blazed crimson.
Something told her that if this woman set her sights on you, you were in for a world of hurt.
The last time she’d felt this particular brand of dread was watching a certain internet personality cheerfully wish his audience good health during a livestream.
“Yes!
I have high hopes for you!
Young lady—how would you like to devote yourself to the advancement of umamusume science?” Agnes Tachyon extended a hand toward Kaisoku, wearing the exact expression of a pyramid-scheme recruiter trying to lure in an unsuspecting mark.
Even without the frantic warning looks Star O was shooting her way, there was absolutely zero chance Kaisoku would fall for this.
“I’m sorry, but I’m just an ordinary umamusume with no particular interest in scientific endeavors.
Besides, I’m in the humanities.” Kaisoku declined with crisp formality.
Tachyon opened her mouth to press further, but the dark-haired umamusume behind her tapped her shoulder just in time, cutting the recruitment pitch short.
“I actually think I come across as quite friendly, you know,” Agnes Tachyon grumbled at the umamusume who’d stopped her. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
“And I really do need test subjects.
It’s not like anything serious would happen—”
“Your selection criteria are absurdly high to begin with,” the voluminous-haired girl pointed out with cool rationality.
“And if your lab keeps exploding, nobody in this house will get any peace.
Maybe dial it back a little.”
“Ah, right.
Let me introduce her properly,” Sakura Star O seized the moment.
“The umamusume capable of reining in Agnes Tachyon goes by Manhattan Cafe.
She’s your senior, and a very talented racer in her own right.”
So that was Agnes Tachyon and Manhattan Cafe accounted for.
Which meant the last one—the umamusume staring at Kaisoku with literal sparkles in her eyes—had to be Agnes Digital.
The aura this girl’s giving off is every bit as intense as Tachyon’s and Manhattan Cafe’s.
Definitely another weirdo.
Kaisoku made her internal assessment.
But politeness demanded she at least try, so she raised her hand and gave a timid little wave.
“Nnngh—supreme bliss—” The umamusume called Agnes Digital was struck as if by a bullet.
Her entire body began to tremble, and between gasps of incoherent rapture, she toppled backward.
“Agnes Digital has gloriously ascended to heaven!”
“…Huh?!” Kaisoku thought the girl was having a heart attack or some other acute medical episode and rushed forward to help, but Orfevre caught her arm.
“Don’t.
You’ll only make it worse.
She’s just so happy she fainted.
She’s been collecting intel on you ever since before you moved in—she’s your number-one superfan.
Getting a personal greeting from you was probably too much happiness for her system to handle.”
“Wait, I have a fan?
And fainting over a wave is a bit…”
“That’s just how Agnes Digital is.
More than being an umamusume herself, she became one so she could observe umamusume up close.
In terms of sheer obsession with umamusume, she’s world-class.
And right now, you’re her latest favorite.
Think of it like meeting your most beloved idol in person.”
“…I see.” Kaisoku nodded, not entirely sure she did see.
She watched Gold Ship scoop the blissfully ascended Agnes Digital off the floor and deposit her in a chair to await resurrection.
The scene was, frankly, surreal—but some instinct told Kaisoku this sort of thing was going to become routine, so she forcibly shattered her worldview and reassembled it from scratch.
Agnes Tachyon.
Manhattan Cafe.
Agnes Digital.
Not a single resident of Umamusume Manor was normal.
Did Rudolf seriously dump me into some kind of problem-umamusume containment facility?
I didn’t even insult her to her face!
Six or seven times in my head, sure, but still—this is so petty.
At least Orfevre, her only ally, was a normal person.
If even Orfevre turned out to be a weirdo, Kaisoku was packing her bags.
She sighed inwardly.
Dinner passed quickly—nominally a welcome party for Kaisoku, but Agnes Tachyon and Manhattan Cafe were both clearly distracted, paying her little mind.
Afterward, Kaisoku used the excuse of unpacking and setting up her bed to dodge Gold Ship’s mystery-bean challenge, and finally—finally—made it back to her room.
Looking around the small single, she felt, for the first time, like she was actually becoming independent.
In her past life, she’d have cracked open at least two cans of beer to celebrate.
Sadly, she was still underage in this body, so alcohol was out.
But surely a non-alcoholic pineapple beer didn’t count?
With that thought, she crept out of her room and down to the deserted kitchen.
She opened the fridge.
It was packed—ham sausages, canned meat, cola, Dr Pepper.
The double-door refrigerator had practically everything.
There was even expensive fruit, including a box of strawberries that made Kaisoku’s eyes go wide.
She’d considered buying strawberries before, only to be scared off by the price.
Narita Brian had said everything in the fridge was fair game, but Kaisoku guiltily pulled her hand back.
She couldn’t bring herself to eat something that pricey on someone else’s dime.
She grabbed a single can of pineapple beer and closed the fridge.
—Thump.
“Hm?” Kaisoku caught the sound of something hitting the wooden floor.
Her ears perked up instinctively.
She raised her eyes toward the pitch-black corridor stretching into darkness.
The gloom was unsettling, but there were seven umamusume living in this house.
Even a burglar would regret breaking in here—or rather, the burglar should be the scared one.
Not because she couldn’t handle a burglar, but because the survival instincts of a woman who’d once lived alone kicked in automatically.
She steadied her breathing, told herself it was probably just one of the other residents, and called out.
“Who’s there?”
Silence.
No answer from the dark end of the corridor—but now there was a vague silhouette that hadn’t been there before.
Kaisoku swallowed.
She studied the shape, and in the faint glow of a streetlight filtering through the window, she made out what looked like Manhattan Cafe.
Relief washed over her.
“Oh, it’s you, Manhattan Cafe-senpai.
Don’t scare me like that…
and why did you change into all white?”
Manhattan Cafe stared at Kaisoku.
A strange smile curled at the corner of her mouth.
Those golden eyes held no light—hollow, empty, reflecting Kaisoku’s form like mirrors.
She drifted forward as if floating, drawing closer.
A jolt of alarm.
Kaisoku looked down.
She was almost certain she couldn’t see a shadow beneath Manhattan Cafe’s feet.
“…Oh hell—it’s actually a ghost!” Kaisoku nearly screamed.
Bad enough that this house was full of weirdos—now it was haunted too?!
All she had was a can of pineapple beer.
Not exactly a weapon.
But before the scream could fully escape, it died in her throat.
Not because of the ghost.
Because another figure had appeared behind her.
“I thought so.
You can see them too.” The one who’d materialized at her back was also Manhattan Cafe.
But compared to the drifting thing in front of her, this version radiated living warmth, and Kaisoku’s panic eased slightly.
“Senpai…
does that mean…?”
“It’s just an ordinary vengeful spirit.”
“…There is nothing ‘ordinary’ about a vengeful spirit, senpai.”
Manhattan Cafe’s nonchalance made Kaisoku forget to be scared, and she defaulted to her tsukkomi reflex.
“So what do we do?”
“Nothing.” Manhattan Cafe shook her head.
“You can see them, that’s all.
And these friends mean no harm.”
“No harm?!
That thing was coming right at me!” Kaisoku wasn’t buying it.
How could she?
That scene would’ve been right at home in a horror movie.
Claiming these spirits were harmless was pure fantasy.
“You said I can see them too—does that mean only we can?”
“Mm.
Tachyon can’t, for example.” Manhattan Cafe stepped forward and murmured something Kaisoku couldn’t catch.
The figure—identical to Manhattan Cafe in every detail—dissolved into nothing.
“I told her not to scare you.
Really, these spirits are harmless.”
“…Manhattan Cafe-senpai, what exactly are you?” Kaisoku swallowed hard.
“And shouldn’t we be calling an exorcist or something?!”
“I’ve been able to see these things since I was little.
Most of them are actually quite friendly.” Manhattan Cafe’s tone was perfectly even.
“They were here before any of us moved in.
If anything, they’re the original residents.
Driving them out would be rude.
Besides, they don’t bother us.
Sometimes they even help out.”
“…If…
if that’s really the case, then I guess I can deal with it.” Kaisoku was still uneasy, but she managed to steady herself.
“Senpai, you’re absolutely sure these spirits won’t do anything to us?”
“I promise they won’t.” Manhattan Cafe nodded.
“The ones that would have actually caused trouble—I already drove those out.”
Standing in that corridor too long had left Kaisoku feeling a chill creep over her skin.
And now that she knew Umamusume Manor was genuinely haunted, she couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched from every corner.
Her resolve to get out of this place at the earliest opportunity deepened considerably.
Manhattan Cafe-senpai really is something else…