The three of them hurried out of the dressing room. Tokai Teio still had a mountain of questions, but she remembered her trainer and the others were waiting—she didn't want them worrying—so she exchanged quick goodbyes with Maruzensky and Eternal Meteor, then ran off to find Spica.
That left Maruzensky and Eternal Meteor to go handle the paperwork: prize payout procedures, and the contracts for official merchandise.
No Bank Card?!
"Little Meteor… you don't have a bank card?!"
Maruzensky stared at her like she'd just discovered a caveman wandering into the city.
In Japan, outside of cash, everything is basically card-based. No bank account means you can't function.
"Yeah, I don't." Eternal Meteor shrugged. "Can I just go make one now?"
She didn't think it was a big deal. No card is no card—why act so shocked? She could apply for one anytime.
Besides…
This chair was incredible.
Eternal Meteor fully "gave up," melting into the meeting-room chair like a slime. Every so often she even lazily swung her legs.
Maruzensky rubbed her head, frowning.
"This is… going to be tricky."
"Huh? Why?"
Eternal Meteor was still in full relaxation mode—until she heard the next part.
Maruzensky explained: if they couldn't register payout information right now, the prize money would be delayed. With the time needed for later registration, she might not receive the money until next month.
Eternal Meteor snapped upright like a cartoon character who'd been kicked.
"W-what do we do?! What do we do—what do we do?!"
She began circling the chair in panic, muttering in a loop.
Maruzensky almost burst out laughing, but before she could—
Eternal Meteor slapped her own forehead, dug into her pocket, and pulled out a bank card, thrusting it toward Maruzensky.
"Maruzensky—can I use someone else's card?"
Maruzensky took it automatically.
"Sure. Lots of horse girls choose to send prize money back home anyway."
She was about to step out and process what she could without Eternal Meteor present—
and then her eyes flicked over the back of the card.
She froze, lifted it closer, and blinked hard like her vision was failing.
But the name on the signature line didn't change.
Symboli Rudolf.
Maruzensky slowly turned her head and looked back at Eternal Meteor—who had already flopped back into the chair, eyes closed, radiating comfort like she'd found nirvana.
Maruzensky opened her mouth.
She wanted to ask what the heck their relationship actually was.
But something in her brain screamed don't touch that landmine, so she shut her mouth and went back to work.
"Wake up and sign here."
"Wake up, Little Meteor. Sign here."
Someone was calling her.
Eternal Meteor grumbled, twisted once, and tried to go back to sleep—
and then someone started kneading her ears.
That did it.
She opened her eyes with an openly irritated expression, ready to see which idiot was ruining her dream—
…and met Rudolf's gaze, looking down at her, while Maruzensky stood nearby struggling not to laugh.
The vibe was basically:
Congrats, you've become a proper girl now. Finally awake?
Eternal Meteor's hand shot down toward her crotch in reflex—
Oh right. She's a horse girl now.
Never mind.
After that little panic reboot, her brain finally became functional. She looked between the two of them, confused.
"What'd you wake me up for?"
Rudolf gestured.
"Here. Sign these."
Maruzensky placed a stack of contracts and a pen in front of her.
There were three documents:
one about the race prize money
and two nearly identical merchandise-related contracts
Eternal Meteor stared at the two similar ones, a giant question mark practically hovering over her head.
Rudolf explained carefully:
"Because you were so eye-catching in the race, a company that specializes in making Uma Musume goods wants to rush out official merchandise for you. You can choose to have Tracen Academy act as your agent. They'll take 15% of total revenue, and you won't have to handle anything afterward."
Eternal Meteor immediately interrupted, face full of please don't make me think.
"President—just tell me which one you recommend."
Rudolf answered instantly.
"Let Tracen handle it."
"Then that one."
Eternal Meteor compared the documents, found the Tracen-agent contract, and—with a dramatic flourish—signed her name.
A name she'd apparently practiced secretly late at night.
Then she smiled, utterly shameless:
"No need to explain so much. Just tell me which one to sign. You wouldn't screw me over, President—I trust you."
Rudolf corrected her, serious and firm:
"That's different. You have the right to know every option."
The Real Question: Which Team?
Then Rudolf asked the next big thing:
"Have you decided which team you're joining?"
Eternal Meteor dragged the word out like she was trying to dodge an exam.
"Ehhh… do I have to join one?"
"Yes." Rudolf didn't soften at all. "You need a trainer to enter the upcoming races. If you don't have a preference, you could consider Rigil. With your ability, there shouldn't be a problem."
Eternal Meteor stroked her chin, thinking.
Then she stood up—wearing the exact same expression she'd had when she decided to run her debut race—and looked Rudolf straight in the eyes.
"I want to be my own trainer!"
And with that, the room's temperature dropped about five degrees—right before the inevitable storm.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 50)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 70)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 50)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 54)
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