Kitasan Black! Kitasan Black! It's here!
As the scroll on the screen slowly unfurled in a burst of colored light, Takeda Makoto leapt for joy right there on the street.
His celebration didn't last long—an irate delivery truck barreled straight toward him.
The screech of brakes felt like it pierced his eardrums; Takeda Makoto felt a blinding pain, then nothing at all.
My fully-limit-broken Kitasan Black…
His body arced through the air, and as he flew he clutched his phone, muttering goodbye to the world.
'Takeda-san, Takeda-san, wake up.'
A bespectacled man in a suit gently tapped the dozing boy slumped over a desk.
The boy mumbled, unwilling to wake.
What Mr. Takeda? My name's Wu—leave me alone, I was sleeping great!
'Takeda-san! Takeda-san!'
The taps grew firmer until the boy finally lifted his head, eyes snapping open.
Huh? Where am I?
First thing he saw was the bespectacled suit, face anxious and impatient.
Takeda Makoto gazed around in a daze—an expansive office bathed in bright light, wood-paneled walls in refined 1980s Japanese style.
A grand room his tiny rented flat could never match, yet eerily empty: every furnishing gone except the mahogany desk he'd been sleeping on.
Seeing him awake, the man yanked a thick folder from his briefcase and launched into his speech.
'Mr. Takeda Makoto, your property and furniture have been liquidated. As you are now eighteen, the ¥15.2 million your father owed the bank passes to you.'
He adjusted his glasses and continued, heedless of whether Takeda listened.
'If the debt isn't cleared within one year, the Takeda Uma Musume Club and its racetrack will be seized. Details are in this file; please review and sign the last page if everything is correct.'
Fifteen-point-two million yen—what's that in RMB?
Staring at the stack of A4 pages, his jaw dropped; too many shocks at once.
Why was he alive? Why could he understand every Japanese word this lawyer spoke? Where on earth was he?
Wait—did he just say 'Uma Musume'?
Hands trembling, Takeda lifted the report as memories flooded back like a slideshow.
A truck had really sent him to the world of Uma Musume?
Uma Musume—girls who inherit the names and souls of legendary racehorses, born with tails and ears, blessed by the three goddesses, their bodies stronger than any human's, their hearts set only on running.
In his previous life he'd fallen for an anime about them, then for a gacha game so addicting he'd walked and pulled cards until a truck delivered him here.
Great—now he could live the Uma Musume dream. Trouble was, he'd spawned ten million in debt!
But as the original owner's memories surfaced, the picture became clear.
The Takeda Family had once been a powerhouse of training and breeding, a major stable even within Central Racecourse; the Takeda Uma Musume Club was every young Horse Girl's dream team.
By his father's generation, though, poor judgment and outdated methods saw them eclipsed by upstart stables.
His father, desperate, had borrowed heavily to bet illegally on races, lost everything, been reported, and landed in prison—leaving freshly-of-age Takeda Makoto the heir to crushing debt.
Fortunately Grandfather Takeda had foresight; knowing his son was unfit, he'd quietly transferred the racetrack into Makoto's name before dying, so the boy wasn't left with nothing.
Sorting his thoughts, Makoto checked the report—professional, thorough—and signed, keeping a copy before showing the lawyer out.
Outside stretched a vast racetrack.
Sunlight flooded the lush turf, yet the century-old grounds looked desolate: no Horse Girls, no staff, though many champions had once trained here.
As he squinted across the oval, hoofbeats echoed from a distant lane before he saw their source.
'Onii-chan!'
Behind a car a small figure emerged, steadily overtaking it on foot.
Closer, he saw twin buns, perky ears, a tiny backpack—she waved furiously.
In grade-school uniform she looked fragile, yet in a flash she dashed up and hurled herself into his arms, nearly bowling him over.
'Onii-chan, I'm home!'
He stroked her round head: Takeda Kaya, his little sister, a third-grade Horse Girl at Hanshin Tracen Academy.
In this world Uma Musume aren't a separate species but the expression of a hidden gene—harmless, carried on the X chromosome and recessive, so only girls can manifest it; there are no male 'horse boys'.
Thus any family might birth an Uma Musume. Their mother was human; Kaya was a Horse Girl.
At two or three the tail and ears appear, appetite soars, and the need to run becomes irresistible.
Still a child, Kaya already showed that strength. After the house was mortgaged, the family lived on the track—far from town, but a Horse Girl could sprint home after class.
While they talked, the car she'd outrun pulled up; the window rolled down to reveal a chubby neighbor grinning.
'Hey, little Shin, I offered to drive Kaya home, but she insisted on running—she's only a grade-schooler, worries me sick.'
He spoke while eyeing the Takeda Uma Musume Club signboard.
'That hundred-year-old name weighed your father down, A-Shin. You're smart—nothing lasts forever. Quit the horses and life could be easier.'
His meaning was plain, and Makoto quickly understood.
Technically he himself wasn't in debt; the club was. His father had borrowed in its name, and as heir he could simply renounce the inheritance and walk free.
Yet raised from birth to steward the family legacy, the original Makoto would never abandon a century of honor.
So he chose to inherit the club, which meant his ranch would be mortgaged to cover the debt—but if the debt was cleared, his father's sentence would also be reduced.
In other words, if he just gave up the Takeda Uma Musume Club name, the ¥15.2 million debt would vanish.
Takeda Makoto slapped his forehead—crap, he'd signed too early. He hadn't thought of this step just now; even though he'd inherited all that knowledge, there was no way he could pay off ¥15.2 million! A hell-mode start!
The middle-aged man saw Makoto's frustration and said no more. He left a word of encouragement, turned, and walked away. Only then did Makoto react and shout his thanks.
"Uncle, thanks for bringing Kaya home!"
Makoto saw a chubby hand stick out from the driver's window and give a small wave; the little red car then disappeared at the end of the road.
He settled Takeda Kaya in the reception room next to the office—now the bedroom of the homeless Takeda Family. Kaya and her big brother each took one sofa.
Kaya dropped her schoolbag, sat on a small stool like a good girl, and started today's homework. Across from her, Makoto pulled out his phone.
He didn't know the exact year, but it looked as if he'd traveled to the past. He urgently needed to get online for information—maybe he could use it to solve the debt.
Problem was, Makoto had transmigrated to another world, not reborn. This place had things like Uma Musume and Tracen Academy; obviously betting on lotteries was useless.
It was 1985, Showa-era Japan!
Eh?
Makoto stared at the horseshoe-shaped smartphone in his hand and fell into thought… Why did 1985 Japan have such an advanced large-screen smart device? Where was his brick phone?
Still puzzled, he fired up a search engine, and after some queries quickly found the reason: this world had never had a World War! Modern international disputes were settled by Uma Musume races!
Think about it—Uma Musume with superhuman stamina and strength would definitely change the history of the cold-weapon era!
Because Horse Girls are born hating war, under their influence this world's military tech lagged behind, while civilian tech was fifty years ahead of the no-Horse-Girl world!
Oh my God—Uma Musume brought about world peace!?
Makoto now deeply realized that this world only resembled the one he'd lived in; in truth they were completely different!
Amazed, he unconsciously swiped the alien phone's desktop—and a familiar icon caught his eye.
Hmm?
The world of Uma Musume also had "Uma Musume Pretty Derby"?
With trembling finger he tapped the app whose icon was a very plump face.
"Cy-gie-mes! Ko-mo-gie-m, Uma Musume Pretty Derby!"
Familiar—way too familiar.
Back when Makoto went hard-core on the game, even his dreams at night started with this line and "Hari-gie-gie iku yo!"
Looking at the familiar interface, he tapped the Horse Girl tab, hoping for some lore so he could poach a few future stars—only to find he owned zero horses.
Where was my undefeated Triple Crown emperor? My bottomless-white-haired monster Oguri Cap? My bright-red sports-car Maruzensky?
Could the original owner never have played the game he downloaded? Then why install it?
Wait, what about the starter girls you're given? No ever-reliable Gold Ship, no giant poster-girl Yamato—something felt very off.
Was this world's Uma Musume game a castrated version?
Maybe because Horse Girls were so hot, you had to pay to pull them now?
Hold on—girls don't matter, Support Cards do!
Support Cards are the cards that help train Uma Musume; how far a girl can go depends almost entirely on card quality.
If Support Cards worked in the real Uma Musume world to help with training, this ¥10-million-plus debt would be nothing.
Makoto eagerly opened the Support Card tab.
There was one!
But only a single SSR "Eager Push" (a.k.a. Kitasan Black, the strongest Support Card in the game, bar none); the rest were gone.
Strange—just before the truck sent him off he'd pulled a Kitasan Black. Could this be the exact same card?
He went back to the home screen and searched for the Uma Musume game.
Uma Musume Online?
Uma Musume Manager?
Uma Musume League?
Uma Musume GO?
The list looked familiar yet wrong, and the original developer didn't even exist in this world!
What the—where's my Cygames?
Could it be that an app that shouldn't exist here crossed over with him?
He opened the game again, his tension now beyond words. Every transmigrator gets starter perks; maybe this game would be his life-saver.
Looking closely, this version was far more than "streamlined"—the interface was completely new.
No training, no races, no coins, zero color carrots. Besides the Support Card and Horse Girl tabs there was only a gacha option—and it could draw Support Cards only!
They trimmed it down to just Support Cards?
Makoto was baffled: what good are cards without horses? He tapped the lone Kitasan Black card.
Support Card: Eager Push (Kitasan Black)
Equipped Horse Girl: None
Rarity: SSR
Level: Lv.1 / 10
To level up: 100 carrots
Effect 1: +10% training efficiency with trainer
Effect 2: +10 initial affinity with trainer
Effect 3: Unlocked at next level
Effect 4: Unlocked at next level
Effect 5: …Holy crap—broken!
I want to pay!
Where's the recharge button?
Tap for game instructions!
What—only by entering Horse Girls in races and placing can you earn gems?
Damn it—let me pay, please!
How can a game have no pay gate? Tencent and NetEase would laugh themselves sick!
"Pfft."
Kaya couldn't hold back a giggle at her brother's gaping, teeth-grinding antics.
Makoto ruffled his little sister's head, racking his brain: which future superstars were still foals in 1985 and ripe for poaching?
Luckily he was a hard-core fan who knew horse history; after some thought he recalled the Heisei-era kings—though they were probably still babies now.
Outside, rain suddenly drummed on the windows; the formerly clear sky turned black with clouds.
Hanshin summer weather really does flip in a heartbeat.
Crack!
Flash!
The room lit up as lightning snaked across the sky.
Boom!
The bright bolt tore through the clouds, and with the rolling thunder a white silhouette flashed across Makoto's mind.
Got it!
Comforting little Kaya, who'd jumped into his arms at the thunder, Makoto felt the answer rising to the surface.