Thunderous applause exploded in the stands, and many spectators who had come for Vodka couldn't help but shout Frankel's name.
In fierce races, the outcome is usually decided by a tiny margin.
A neck.
Half a length.
If the gap stretches to two or three lengths, it already means the winner has crushed the field, not by just a little.
If it reaches four or five lengths, that's a completely different class of racehorse girl altogether.
On the other side, Daiwa Scarlet still hadn't recovered her composure.
"S-so strong…!!"
"This world really is full of geniuses! Frankel… what a Frankel."
All this time, she had seen Vodka as her rival and El Condor Pasa as her idol.
Yet now, her archenemy had been casually cut down by a girl named Frankel, so dashing it made your breath catch.
And it wasn't just any win: despite a slow break and the disadvantage of starting from the far outside as a front-runner, Frankel had won by a staggering five lengths.
Just what kind of monster was that?
"She's practically as monstrous as Condor-senpai!!"
As the young, voluptuous red-haired twin-tailed girl gasped, her chest heaving with shock, the petite Tokai Teio standing not far away also had her eyes full of awe.
"A monster like that… President never mentioned her at all."
"Japan's birthed a new monster. She's definitely going to be thrilled!"
In the stands, aside from ordinary spectators and other racehorse girls, there were others present as well.
For example, racehorse-girl reporters chasing after a big scoop.
Right now they were all staring wide-eyed, dumbstruck, as that wine-red–haired girl, divine and imposing, swept the race and won by a full five lengths.
These racehorse-girl journalists were convinced they had just witnessed the most shocking debut race in years, bar none.
"I-I didn't see wrong, did I? That really was a full five lengths!!"
"She's got the bearing of those legendary kings from Europe and America!"
"Who in the world is she? Somebody, give me a rapid-fire info dump already!"
"She's incredible. The one she beat by five lengths was Vodka, you know."
Some reporters were frantically snapping photos of Frankel's dashing back.
They had all basically written their articles in advance before the race. The headline they'd prepared was something like: "Supernova Vodka Stuns in Brilliant Debut!"
Now those drafts were being torn to shreds. Faces alight with excitement, they kept pressing their shutters at the figure standing at the finish line.
"No question about it, she's going to be a star racehorse girl in the future. Her very first article is going to be worth a fortune!"
Even the spectators who had come specifically to see Vodka win, despite not witnessing their supernova blaze past the line first…
None of them felt disappointed. On the contrary, their hearts were filled with shock and delight.
Among this generation of newcomers, a red-hot prodigy had been born.
…
On the track, once the girls behind had crossed the finish line one after another…
Compared to the disappointment and gloom of those who had failed and would not debut today, the one who had crossed the line first, Frankel, was by far the calmest of them all.
In her heart, she was quietly, calmly reviewing what came next.
(With this, my debut's in the bag.)
(The racehorse girls' love for running really is the real deal.)
(Next time… I can try some different running styles.)
Having experienced running as a front-runner, Frankel didn't believe she had to be locked into that tactic.
In her eyes:
Losing would definitely feel awful, so as long as she could win, anything was fine. There was no need to confine herself to a single style, no need to use just one way to run.
While Frankel was still mulling over the race, Vodka not far away was bent over, breathing hard with both hands on her knees.
How could this be?!
Not only had she lost, she had lost… by that much.
Five lengths. A full five lengths.
Her archenemy Daiwa Scarlet was right there in the stands watching. She had personally watched Vodka lose by five lengths. That was a super-level black mark in her history.
Vodka had always wanted to "win while looking cool." She had never imagined she would one day be casually cut down by another super dark horse.
And the winning figure… Frankel's winning figure was clearly way cooler than hers.
Overwhelming shame filled Vodka's heart.
But she understood that she had been outclassed, plain and simple.
For a front-runner, the outermost gate was an absolute disadvantage, yet Frankel had still won big. Their strength was on completely different tiers.
(Next time…)
The genius girl Vodka bit down on her lip, eyes full of disbelief as she forced her trembling body to walk over.
(Next time I'll definitely get my revenge. I'll win those five lengths back from Frankel!)
Vodka's desire to win was famous throughout Tracen Academy. There was no way she could accept defeat that easily.
Especially not a defeat by a full five lengths. This wasn't some narrow loss by half a length.
She turned her head, letting her gaze slide over to Frankel's strikingly handsome, exquisitely beautiful face, etching it firmly into her mind.
"You won beautifully, Frankel."
For once, Vodka displayed a kind of etiquette she never showed Daiwa Scarlet, and offered a congratulatory greeting to the victor.
Even though she had run countless practice races against Daiwa Scarlet and lost more than once, she had never managed to show anything close to a gentle, elegant attitude.
Yet in front of Frankel, not only was she thoroughly convinced, she also didn't want Frankel to think she was a sore loser. She didn't want to leave a bad impression.
Why was that…?
Still, that unyielding fighting spirit pushed Vodka to speak her declaration of revenge right after her polite bow.
"I'll catch up to you! I swear I'll pay you back those five lengths!"
Frankel gave a small nod at Vodka's words and answered her.
"You're not bad. You ran pretty cool. I enjoyed this race a lot."
That was sincere praise from Frankel.
Huh?
She had already made Frankel think she was… kind of cool?
Made her enjoy the race?
In an instant, a blush bloomed across Vodka's cheeks, she herself unsure whether it was from excitement or embarrassment.
"But…"
The next moment, Frankel turned away. Her wine-red hair fluttered wildly like a cloak, leaving Vodka with yet another image to carve into her heart.
"Anyone who loses to me is never someone I consider a rival. I'll give you time to chase after me… until I'm so far ahead you can't even see my back."
With that line, Vodka was completely stunned on the spot.
Her heartbeat, which should have slowed with the end of the race, suddenly sped up all over again.
That declaration was cooler and more overwhelming than anything she had ever imagined saying herself.
Vodka clenched her fists, her breathing heavy and drawn-out. Yet more than thoughts of revenge, she found her gaze being drawn again and again to Frankel's back.
Only when she saw Frankel about to leave the track did Vodka snap out of it and hurriedly call out to her.
"Frankel, you're going the wrong way. The winner's stage is that way."
Frankel's steps froze mid-stride.
The wine-red–haired girl who had been so composed, so unruffled even in victory, suddenly stiffened at those words.
Huh?
?!!
The girl who had seemed so overbearingly majestic just moments ago now looked completely dumbfounded, unable to maintain her earlier cool at all.
"…"
"Hold on, there's a winner's stage too?!"
After all, before she transformed she had been a slacking trainer, AFK every day, doing essentially nothing.
As a trainer, why would she have ever practiced performance songs?
The winner's stage was an honor that belonged solely to champion racehorse girls.
Her apricot eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
N/T: Hi everyone, I'm Zuru, an inexperienced translator and non-native English speaker, so if you notice any mistakes in the text, please let me know in the comments so I can fix them. By the way, I have a Patreon. There isn't much there yet, but it would really help me if you could consider joining.