"What…?!"
Seattle Slew's eyes widened slightly, her face filled with disbelief.
Their elite entrant had been cast aside—effortlessly?
Beside her, Secretariat's lips curled upward. Then, in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, she murmured:
"Found you."
—
"Impossible! How could I lose to some measly Japanese horse girl?! No way—this can't be happening!!"
Running in second, California Speed forced herself to accelerate like her life depended on it, driving her body to the limit—wringing out every last shred of stamina just to squeeze out a little more speed.
But it was useless.
Even after pushing herself that hard, the distance between her and Red Eyes didn't shrink by even a fraction.
If anything, it kept widening…
In that moment, California Speed understood.
From the very beginning of this race, she had been on the weak side.
She and Red Eyes weren't even competing on the same level.
"Damn it—AAAAAAAH!!"
Ignoring the wail behind her, the jet-black figure at the front kept accelerating as if she intended to break out of the track itself.
"Red Eyes has left everyone behind! One length—two lengths… the gap is still growing!"
"She's still accelerating! She's still accelerating!"
Without realizing it, the only sounds left in the venue were the commentator's feverish roar and the pounding footfalls of horse girls striking the dirt.
The spectators who had booed earlier now had their mouths forcibly shut by Red Eyes' performance.
Even the stupidest people fall silent when reality hits them in the face.
The runner they supported looked utterly powerless in front of Red Eyes.
This foreign horse girl was like a bandit, ramming the barrel of a spear into their throats—daring them to say one more word, as though the next motion would be pulling a fatal trigger.
Was this really the American circuit?
Where the hell did we end up?
Under everyone's gaze, the horse girl named Red Eyes was already bearing down on the finish.
On this dirt track, there was no one who could contend with her.
"Across the line—!!"
"The winner is—Red Eyes, the overseas entrant!"
As the commentator screamed himself hoarse, the victor's name rang through the entire stadium.
Only then did the crowd seem to recover from the shock—hands moving on instinct as applause began to ripple out.
In the Americas, might-makes-right was the fundamental law.
And at this moment, Red Eyes was unquestionably the absolute strong one in this race.
She deserved their applause.
"Hey—did anyone count it? How many lengths was that?!"
"The gap was too big… you can't even estimate it!"
"That's a massive margin, no question!"
"My god… and this is only a debut race."
"Damn it—are Japanese horse girls all monsters?!"
People stared at the black figure standing tall at the finish, those distinctive red eyes burning an image into memory that wouldn't fade.
"Thirteen lengths! Thirteen lengths!"
"Red Eyes has opened a gap of nearly thirteen lengths over the second-place finisher, California Speed!"
Even the announced figure left the crowd speechless.
Thirteen lengths…
An unquestionable blowout.
Their "excellent" runners looked like fish in a pond waiting to be blasted—utterly unable to fight back.
"See? I told you so, A-Sen~"
Secretariat said smugly to the horse girl at her side.
"I told you coming to watch a debut race was absolutely the right call. Otherwise we'd have missed a real show."
"…Yeah."
For once, Seattle Slew didn't refute her.
She watched the horse girl standing at the center of the track and gave a slow nod.
That kind of strength was far beyond ordinary.
"I didn't think Japan had a monster like that…"
"Heh. Who cares where she's from originally?" Secretariat grinned. "She debuted on our turf—so she's ours now."
"President… you mean—?"
Secretariat's smile deepened.
After discovering a seedling like this, how could she possibly let her go back to Japan?
Stay in the American circuit—obediently.
"A-Sen. Go collect everything—every scrap of information about her. We can't let talent like this slip through our hands."
"Yes, President."
Seattle Slew jogged off at once, leaving Secretariat alone at the rail, staring dreamily at the horse girl standing at the center of the track.
Like finding iron shoes after searching everywhere—and getting them without effort.
I was just worrying about nobody being able to take over my job…
And then this perfect candidate drops right into my lap.
My retirement plan is saved!
"Guh-heh-heh…"
At the edge of the track, the king of the American circuit let out a laugh that sounded disturbingly like an infatuated creep.
—
"Hah…"
After crossing the line, Red Eyes let out a long breath.
Eleven hundred meters was comfortably within her range, but running on dirt still took more effort.
Her dirt aptitude was only B, so it didn't feel nearly as light as turf.
Even so, she had still produced an outrageous result.
Thirteen lengths—Hui, as a trainer, knew exactly what that meant.
You only get a margin like that when the two sides' strength isn't even on the same plane.
In front of that kind of gap, any talk of tactics was laughable.
"Yeah… raising the stats to 400 beforehand was the right call."
If he hadn't pushed them that high, he still would've won—but the visual impact would never have been this overwhelming.
Her goal now was to forge a horse girl worthy of being called epic.
A normal win was far too ordinary.
Because an "epic," a "legend," is measured by the scale of the opponent's failure.
With that thought, Fujimura Hui swept his gaze behind him.
The other racers had finished as well, bent over, hands braced on their legs as they gasped for breath.
When they felt his eyes on them, their bodies visibly flinched.
One by one, they turned their gazes away, trembling—afraid to meet his stare.
Am I really that scary?
He muttered to himself, standing there.
And just as he sank into thought, a voice snapped him out of it.
"Why—?! Why can you run that fast?!"
California Speed, eyes red, screamed at him until her throat went raw.
In that race, she had tasted what true despair felt like—
That sensation of never being able to catch up, no matter what she did—like poison that seeped into the marrow and stabbed straight into her heart.
"…You're asking that?"
The black-haired, red-eyed girl wore an openly irritated expression.
"Shut your mouth."
"You're so damn noisy. Do you really need a reason beyond keepsake truths like 'I'm much stronger than you'?"
"If you can't even understand something at that level, then don't come out here and embarrass yourself."
"This isn't a playground."
"Loser."
....
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