In the end, Gotham Song realized she had severely underestimated Flightline's determination—the kind of resolve that made bleeding seem trivial.
What kind of mindset did a horse girl need to say such things?
Truthfully, Gotham Song thought the only time she herself could have uttered words like that was very, very long ago—long before she'd even run the Arc.
At that time, she'd been selfish and powerful, deliberately empty of everything except raw ability. Back then, disconnected from anyone and anything, it was natural for the Uma Musume called Twilight Song to run at the cost of her own life.
Because, at that moment, life itself had been her most precious yet worthless asset.
But now, exactly as Flightline had said, Gotham Song no longer had that same burning courage or resolve—
Even when she'd unleashed her full power at the Japan Cup, motivated by her sister's determination, it had only been a matter of holding nothing back, fully committing to the race. That intensity was far too different from the mentality she'd once carried at the Arc, where she'd sprinted ahead even at the risk of death.
And now, by comparison, just how resolute was Flightline?
When Mejiro McQueen had wanted to race Flightline to defend her sister's honor, Gotham Song herself stepped up instead. Even though Flightline's body was still wrapped in bandages, her answer was firm and unquestionable. She led Gotham Song straight from the hospital onto the sandy track of the New York Aqueduct Racetrack.
Dirt racing, or sand-track racing, wasn't exactly popular in the Japanese circuit. Horses like Sunday Silence and Secretariat were especially strong in dirt racing, whereas Sunday Silence hadn't shown extraordinary strength on turf during her lifetime.
As for Gotham Song herself, she had no achievements in this area whatsoever—of course, if you only considered the name "Gotham Song." But Twilight Song? Twilight Song had spectacularly shone on dirt, after all.
The American Triple Crown itself was entirely on dirt, with notoriously short breaks between each race.
"Are you really okay with this? I don't remember you ever racing on dirt. Listen, even legendary Uma Musume don't have to accept sudden challenges in unfamiliar fields, right?"
Flightline's tone carried hints of disdain and doubt—or rather, she wasn't annoyed with Gotham Song herself, but rather detested the idea of challenging something one wasn't specialized in, purely to prove a point.
But Gotham Song wasn't shaken by Flightline's attitude at all. Instead, she just looked seriously at the towering figure next to her—
Alright, with a height difference of around fifty centimeters, Gotham Song felt like she was gazing upward like a sunflower toward the sun.
But, after all, who was the true, dazzling sun here? Flightline-san, let me properly teach you what real strength and dominance looks like for a legendary Uma Musume.
"Finished talking, Flightline-san? If you're starting to get scared, you can always just admit defeat right now and stop wasting my time."
Gotham Song's tone was cold. She hadn't even changed into proper sportswear; she maintained the casual outfit she'd arrived in—hot pants and a cropped jacket exposing both her legs and midriff.
At most, she'd merely changed into a pair of navy-blue running shoes.
This kind of posture practically had "disrespect" written all over it—an outfit inconvenient in every possible sense for dirt racing. After all, it wasn't even the protective racing outfit (决胜服) designed for Uma Musume, just ordinary casual clothing.
But could this attitude really be called arrogance?
Gotham Song briefly wanted to deny it, but immediately after, she grinned openly.
And why not?
She was a legend whose star shone brightly. From every perspective, there was simply no reason to take a filly like Flightline—who hadn't even debuted, yet routinely ended up hospitalized due to recklessness—seriously, right?
She absolutely couldn't appear overly cautious. After all, she wasn't close with Flightline, and if a legend like herself were to be intimidated into treating Flightline seriously, wouldn't that itself count as admitting defeat?
"You're saying I'll admit defeat? Haha."
"Hahahaha! Admit defeat? Me, Flightline, admit defeat?"
This was so funny, it was impossible to stop laughing… Gotham Song! You sure have the nerve to talk!
As she stepped onto the starting line of the dirt track and heard Gotham Song's undisguised provocation, Flightline couldn't suppress the flames of anger burning inside her chest.
She had no intention of controlling that anger in the first place—!
"I don't think I'm gonna lose. But you, short little Gotham Song-san—when you get crushed into the dirt later, don't start crying, alright?"
"Oh? Then I'll look forward to seeing who exactly might be the one crying."
Gotham Song, thoroughly entertained, glanced over at Flightline beside her, watching as the taller girl lowered herself into a focused starting position.
Flightline was actually quite attractive when she quieted down—or rather, her whole body radiated a kind of wild beauty.
Before leaving her hospital room, Flightline had changed into casual sportswear, completely different from Gotham Song's casual look:
Instead of hot pants, Flightline wore shorts that similarly exposed her long, fair thighs, paired with a fitted athletic top.
Matched with her excessively long, dark hair, this outfit didn't look thin or fragile at all—indeed, the word "fragile" couldn't remotely apply here. After all, this was a two-meter-tall titan.
In any case, Flightline clearly couldn't accept defeat—no, she absolutely wouldn't even consider the possibility of defeat.
"1800 meters, training race rules, dirt, just the two of us. Finish line at the marker near the grandstand. No more questions, right, Gotham Song…?"
"Of course not. Though, 1800 meters—so this is your typical daily training distance nowadays?"
Flightline nodded, not saying another word. Her attention fully returned to the track, while Mejiro McQueen, standing off to the side, feeling thoroughly out of place, silently blinked before picking up a stopwatch to fulfill her role as the impartial observer.
Why do I feel like I'm completely unnecessary here? Strange.
"Red… red… green!"
As Mejiro McQueen's familiar voice replaced the sound of starting gates, Gotham Song's perfectly trained muscle memory activated before the final syllable even fell, shooting ahead and immediately gaining half a length over Flightline.
Flightline naturally wasn't willing to yield, quickly surging forward until the two-meter-tall giantess nearly caught up—
With identical stride frequency, Flightline's stride length was practically twice that of Gotham Song's!
Yet this initial advantage vanished almost instantly.
Even as Flightline rapidly erased Gotham Song's starting advantage, Gotham Song responded immediately upon sensing Flightline's attack.
If her advantage disappeared at equal stride frequencies, wasn't the solution simple?
Just move faster—accelerate even more. Just faster, faster, so impossibly fast that Flightline could only gaze upward helplessly. At that speed, she couldn't possibly be caught.
Ah, you disobedient filly. Even if a tall girl like you pretends to be strong, once we step onto the track…
I'll absolutely humiliate you.
This is punishment for your overconfidence. I'll strike you down with the whip of total defeat!
Thus, without warning—and just as Flightline confidently smiled, certain she'd accelerate past Gotham Song in the next instant—
Indeed, someone accelerated in that instant. But the one who exploded forward, completely beyond Flightline's expectations, was Gotham Song herself!
Under the shocked gaze of the towering girl behind her, Gotham Song—who might very well have been racing on dirt for the first time—ran without the slightest trace of discomfort. Her steps were swift and powerful, her entire body glittered brilliantly, her strength and confidence not even slightly challenged.
Impossible. Even on dirt, she can display this level of strength without trouble?!
Flightline's heart filled with shock. From the start, she'd never liked the Uma Musume called Gotham Song, precisely because many people firmly believed Gotham Song was the reincarnation of Twilight Song—
—The purest runner Flightline had ever known, the silver streak who'd chased absolute speed and nothing else.
Ridiculous. Gotham Song's nothing but a pale imitation, devoid of true passion, determination, and pure obsession. That's all!
Flightline sped up again, refusing defeat. Faster, faster—no matter what it took, she had to defeat Gotham Song, whose impure running mocked everything Twilight Song represented.
Yet no matter how fiercely she ran, Flightline couldn't close even a centimeter of the distance between them.
And as she desperately chased Gotham Song's shadow, a bitter realization hit her:
Gotham Song had controlled their gap effortlessly all along.
No! No matter what, I will never accept this!
If someone like you, with such a diluted spirit, could be called Twilight Song reborn—then what meaning remained in her burning herself away at the Arc?
Gotham Song, you're unworthy of Twilight Song's legacy.
You're nothing but an arrogant devil—careless, uncommitted.
No matter what it takes, I'll destroy you!