The moment Platinum's face was exposed to the air, the entire bar froze.
"Hey, hey—Masashi, isn't that the one…?" The drummer nudged the guitarist's arm. "The one from Hanshin Racecourse today…"
After a brief, heavy silence, whispers began to ripple through the room. Platinum was far more recognizable than she'd imagined—especially here, so close to Hanshin. Someone had actually recognized her.
"No way… If I remember right, all the Uma Musume running their debut races are still in elementary division, right? What's she doing here?"
"Didn't she skip the Winner's Stage because she wasn't feeling well?"
"Think I could snap a photo? She's actually real…"
"Maybe give it a shot later?"
The patrons murmured in hushed tones.
Masashi, the guitarist the drummer had called out to, blinked in surprise. He gave Platinum a quick once-over, then shrank back, his hand retreating like a startled crab.
It wasn't just that she was pretty—she was stunning, no question—but hitting on a middle schooler?
That was just plain scummy.
He'd assumed she might be a high schooler at worst, but the face staring back at him was unmistakably that of a girl no older than fourteen, still soft with youth.
And this wasn't some runaway teen you might stumble across downtown.
This was the very Uma Musume who'd just run her debut race and was now trending online as the new champion. Messing with her would bring more trouble than he could handle.
But just because the would-be flirt wanted to back off didn't mean the girl wanted the encounter to end.
"Is that really all you wanted?" Platinum fixed the two musicians with a cold, unblinking stare. "Just to look at my face?"
"Or…" She tilted her head slightly, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Don't you want to see a little more?"
Before either could react, she hooked two fingers into the zipper at her throat and slowly, deliberately, began to pull it down.
As the metal teeth parted, the elegant curve of her swan-like neck, the delicate hollow of her collarbones, and the smooth, pale skin beneath emerged into the dim bar light.
This was the body of a fourteen-year-old girl—firmly in the golden bloom of youth, that fleeting window when everything about a person still brims with possibility.
That very uncertainty, that raw potential, was the sweetest spice of adolescence.
Not everyone might be drawn to girls this age—but even the most indifferent would find it hard not to be captivated by the cotton-candy softness of such a sight. And these two? They were utterly transfixed.
Whether stunned by her boldness or lured by the tantalizing glimpse, their eyes were glued to her like moths to a flame.
"Hey, kid—don't do that," the bartender said sharply, brows knotted as she tried to cut in.
But she was too late.
Platinum yanked the zipper all the way down and flung her heavy windbreaker straight into their faces.
Masashi's world went dark the instant the jacket smothered him.
Before he could even process what happened, a crushing blow slammed into his chest—like a fastball dead-center, or maybe a bullet tearing through his ribs.
Pain exploded outward from his sternum, racing up into his skull, flooding his nerves with white-hot signals until his mind went blank and his limbs refused to obey.
He hit the floor hard, skidding across the polished marble like a fish just dragged from the sea, gasping and helpless. Only then did his hearing and touch begin to return.
"Masashi! Hey, Masashi—are you okay?!"
Platinum lowered her right leg, which she'd just snapped back into place.
Beneath the jacket, she'd been fully dressed in a neat shirt—but the high kick had briefly revealed the slender curve of her waist, delicate enough to fit within a single hand.
Not many people could take a horse's kick and walk it off. You weren't exactly dealing with Trainer here.
"You wanted to look?" Platinum sneered, her expression twisted with disgust. "Then maybe check your own reflection first and ask if you're worth it."
"My mood right now," she continued, voice low and icy, "is absolutely terrible."
She stepped forward a few paces and yanked the windbreaker off Masashi's crumpled form.
He lay curled on the floor, clutching his chest as his stomach clenched violently, dinner and bile surging up his throat.
"So," Platinum said sweetly, standing over the two of them with a smile as pure and innocent as fresh snow, "thank you."
"Thank you for being my punching bags. I know I'm taking it out on you unfairly—but honestly, does it really matter if I take it out on a couple of trash humans like you?"
People tended to think of Uma Musume as innocent sprites—delicate, pure creatures who needed protection. But they always forgot one crucial fact.
Entire city blocks had special running lanes just for Uma Musume.
At full sprint, they could outpace cars in urban traffic. And to move that fast—to generate that kind of power—their bodies were built far beyond ordinary human limits.
Unfortunately for these two, Platinum wasn't some naive little angel.
In fact, she'd just finished lashing out at several fellow racers with cruel words before striding brazenly out of the racetrack—a thoroughly rotten piece of work, through and through.
So using that overwhelming strength? It didn't bother her in the slightest.
"You little—how dare you lay hands on us!" The drummer shot to his feet, eyes bloodshot, and snatched a glass bottle off the counter, swinging it at Platinum with a roar.
At this point, he didn't care what she was online—he just wanted to tear that smug face to shreds.
But Platinum caught his wrist mid-swing. A light squeeze was all it took; his face contorted in agony, convinced his bones were about to snap.
With a casual twist, she forced him to his knees, his shoulder pinned behind his back. Her free hand plucked the bottle from his grip and dangled it teasingly in front of his eyes.
"Let's get one thing straight," she said coolly. "I'm no saint—but this? This is on you."
"Next time you whistle at a girl, remember today."
She flipped the bottle upside down and smashed it hard against the bar. The neck shattered cleanly, and the liquor gushed out in a clear, glistening stream.
"Ever watched TV? You don't kill someone with a full bottle—only an empty one."
"You—let go of me, you little—!"
"Shh." She closed one eye, stuck out her tongue, and aimed the jagged edge playfully at his temple like she was lining up a shot. "Don't make me angrier. When I'm annoyed, I tend to hit harder."
Just then, the bell above the door jingled.
The newcomer didn't flinch at the scene inside. Instead, she walked straight to the stool nearest Platinum and sat down without hesitation.
"Looks like I arrived just in time," a woman's voice murmured beside her.
Symboli Rudolf turned and poured herself a glass of lemon water, taking a quiet sip as if nothing unusual had happened.
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.