"Gone?"
Seattle Slew barked at the staff in front of her.
"You're telling me a Japanese horse girl that conspicuous just evaporated into thin air?"
"Apologies, Vice President… We've been searching as hard as we can, but we can't find contestant Red Eyes anywhere…"
These were the staff responsible for the post-race winner's stage. Once the debut race ended, they went to bring the winning horse girl to the winner's stage—but when they reached Red Eyes' dressing room, the only thing left inside was a discarded No. 7 tracksuit.
As for Red Eyes…
They turned the entire venue upside down, and she was nowhere to be found.
After hearing the account, Seattle Slew's brows knit slightly.
Why skip the winner's stage?
…Could that girl not dance?
For a horse girl, the winner's stage was a prime opportunity to gain a large number of fans. Normally, no one would refuse the chance to become more famous.
That was exactly why Seattle Slew found it so puzzling.
That girl Red Eyes had stolen the spotlight throughout the race—then turned around and bolted the moment the winner's stage came up.
So what did she actually want—fame, or no fame?
The contradiction tightened Seattle Slew's frown.
Either way, they had to find her first.
"Keep searching. Go look again!"
"Yes, Vice President!"
—
Japan, Central Tracen dormitory.
Still in her Red Eyes form, Fujimura Hui was washing up in the bathroom.
After thoroughly venting on California Speed, he had slipped into a shadowy corner and used his space-time waypoint to return.
As for the winner's stage—Hui had no intention of getting up there and performing.
There were two reasons.
First: a subtle, awkward sense of embarrassment.
Second: he had other plans.
The winner's stage's main purpose was to promote the race winner and, by doing so, secure a sufficient fanbase.
But for Hui, that "benefit" was the least important part.
His goal was to forge a truly epic-tier existence on the track.
So he had set Red Eyes a clear target: in every race, win by a blowout margin.
With the system's support, it wasn't impossible.
A horse girl who crushed her opponents by a massive margin every single time—on the American circuit, no less.
A Japanese horse girl sweeping the American tracks like a scythe through wheat—by itself, that could qualify as "epic."
At least, that was Hui's thinking.
If she ran enough races—and the races were prestigious enough—then fans would naturally accumulate with every win.
In that case, the winner's stage barely mattered.
If absolute dominance on the track can earn me fans, why waste time "doing appearances" on a stage?
No need.
To prepare for the winner's stage, Hui would have to carve out time to practice singing and dancing. For someone whose time was already scarce, that was simply making a bad situation worse.
To hell with the winner's stage. Whoever wants it can have it—he wasn't going.
And the time saved?
Even getting a few extra minutes of sleep in the dorm was a profit.
Of course, Hui had no idea how much turmoil his decision had caused on the American side.
—
"Out of nowhere! Thirteen lengths in a debut race—who exactly is Red Eyes?!"
"Arrogant to the extreme! Wins, then skips the winner's stage—unfit to be a horse girl!"
"Mysteriously missing! Reportedly, no one even saw her leave the venue!"
Sensational reports flooded American streets.
And at that very moment, in the office of America's Central Tracen Academy, those headline-laden pages lay spread across Secretariat's desk.
"Mmm-hmm… she really did stir up quite a commotion," Secretariat said with a hint of admiration.
"She went too far," Seattle Slew replied, lips curling slightly as she scanned the coverage.
A foreign horse girl.
Wins her debut by thirteen lengths.
Skips the winner's stage.
Then vanishes without a trace.
Rumor had it that before disappearing, she had also verbally demolished one of the runners from the same race—so badly that the girl's will had shattered, and she still hadn't come out of her dorm.
With a style this high-profile, attention was inevitable.
"A-Sen. Did you find the information I asked for?" Secretariat asked.
"Yeah. It's on your left."
"Hm?"
Secretariat turned, pinched two thin sheets between her fingers, blinked—and complained:
"I knew you wouldn't slack off, but… are you serious? Red Eyes' file is only two pages?"
"Can't be helped." Seattle Slew sighed. "All I could find was the registration info from race entry. I couldn't even locate her incoming flight ticket…"
Seattle Slew had checked everything—ships, planes, trains.
There was no record of how Red Eyes entered the country.
She was like someone who had simply appeared inside the borders out of thin air—no trail, no trace.
"I see…"
Secretariat studied the two flimsy pages, the few lines of sparse information about "Red Eyes" reflecting in her amber eyes as a thoughtful glint passed through.
Then her hand paused.
She pointed to a line on the paper.
"Who is this trainer—Fujimura Hui? What's his background?"
"His file is here."
Seattle Slew handed over a second set of documents.
Compared to Red Eyes' two-page "profile," the file on Fujimura Hui was clearly thicker.
"A Japanese trainer…"
Secretariat read through it carefully.
If they couldn't find Red Eyes, then they would start with her trainer.
"A-Sen. Can you contact this trainer?"
"No problem. He left an email address when he registered for the race."
"Good. Contact him first. Pull some intel."
"Understood, President."
Seattle Slew nodded to show she had it, then stepped out to initiate contact with Fujimura Hui.
Inside the room, Secretariat set the file down and tapped a finger lightly against her cheek.
"Fujimura Hui… Red Eyes…"
Her instincts were telling her those two names were connected.
Was it simply the relationship between a trainer and his assigned horse girl?
No.
It was deeper than that…
A radical decision like debuting in America didn't feel like something a Japanese horse girl would decide on her own.
Behind it, there had to be someone with a voracious, ambitious appetite.
"…Is that someone you?"
Secretariat's long, slender finger came down on Fujimura Hui's photo in the file.
....
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