Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet—
Far away in Oceania.
Australia, western Sydney, at Rosehill Gardens Racecourse.
The crowd was roaring loud enough to shake the sky.
Even though it was spring in the Northern Hemisphere, down here in the Southern Hemisphere it was crisp, clear autumn weather.
Today, a highly anticipated G1 major race was being held here.
A massive cheer surged through the entire venue like a tsunami.
"Final spurt!!!"
The commentator bellowed in heavily accented English, "They've entered the home straight!!"
"Boom—!!!"
On the track, two figures tore through the air like lightning, terrifying streams of light coiling around them as they left every other Uma Musume far behind.
It was speed that felt like it belonged to another dimension.
"Real Sensation is coming up! She's still accelerating!"
"But ahead of her, the Number 4 is driving for the line—That silver-white brilliance!?"
"Can she catch her? Only 100 meters left, and the gap won't close!! That despairing late kick!!"
"Crowd—!!!"
In the near-mad frenzy of the spectators, the two figures—one in front, one behind—charged through the finish with the force of wind and thunder.
"First place! No suspense at all! It's Folkqueen!!!"
"Second place is Real Sensation! So close—only one length short in the end. She still couldn't overcome the Queen's majesty."
…
Past the finish line.
"Hah… hhaa…"
A hooded Uma Musume with a distinctive short black braid was bent over, hands on her knees, gulping air.
Sweat dripped down her cheeks. With half-lidded, feral-looking eyes, she glared hard into the distance.
There, a silver-haired girl with heterochromia stood quietly, head tilted up toward the sky, her gaze soft and faraway.
"Damn it…"
Real Sensation lowered her head unwillingly, grinding out a growl through clenched teeth.
"Again—just barely!"
Just then, the light in front of her dimmed.
She looked up to find Folkqueen standing before her.
She was a girl with breathtaking beauty.
Her long silver hair fell like a waterfall, the ends naturally curling in an endearing way. Fluffy silver horse ears topped her head, and a striking black-and-red ribbon was tied to her left ear.
Most eye-catching of all were her mismatched eyes—her left eye a dazzling gold, her right eye a deep crimson.
A charming beauty mark adorned her left eye as well.
Now, those gold-and-red eyes looked down at Real Sensation from slightly different angles, radiating a presence sharp enough to steal one's breath.
"Can you still move?" Folkqueen asked softly, her voice cool.
But Real Sensation already knew exactly what kind of person this was, and didn't bother responding to the attitude at all.
She clicked her tongue, forced herself upright, and snapped back irritably.
"Queen, when are you gonna let me have one?!"
Folkqueen's brow lifted. The ice-cold expression on her face suddenly cracked into a smile, and that untouchable aura collapsed in an instant.
"Let you?" She crossed her arms and drawled lazily. "Your late kick is basically on par with mine. But the moment I sprint just a little harder, I'll pull away."
"And after all these races, the result is always the same…"
She tapped her own head without mercy and finished the stab.
"That's an IQ issue, not a strength issue, isn't it?"
"Oof—!"
Real Sensation felt like she'd taken an arrow straight to the chest. Her face immediately turned dark.
"Alright, alright! Stop poking at it!" She waved it off, refusing to stay on this tragic topic, then seemed to remember something and asked with curiosity.
"By the way—heard you still want to run that thing this year… the Japan Cup?"
Japan Cup.
The moment the name came up, Folkqueen's faint smile vanished.
A cold glint flashed through her mismatched eyes, sharper than anything she'd shown on the track.
She lowered her chin slightly, gaze turning north, voice dropping.
"Yeah. I'm planning to."
Real Sensation scratched her head at how serious she looked.
"You're going too, huh… Then I kinda want to try it as well."
"I heard the entry slots for that international G1 are pretty funny. Some Uma Musume can sign up even if they've never won a single domestic G1, and the prize money's huge."
"…"
Folkqueen stared at her for a long moment, speechless.
Was this idiot implying she had bad taste—like she'd picked a low-bar competition?
But then she shook her head, sighed like it wasn't worth arguing, and let it go.
Unlike many of the other Oceania Uma Musume, her hometown of New Zealand held an almost obsessive fixation on the Japan Cup.
Just like how Central was desperate to win the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
In Folkqueen's view, losing was simple: you lost because you'd lost too many times already.
Granted… she was thinking the same thing herself.
"And besides…"
The silver-haired girl with heterochromia took a deep breath. Her gaze seemed to pierce across ten thousand miles of sea, fixing heavily on the nation in the East.
There was a figure there—an immovable mountain she had to climb over.
"Obey Your Master…"
"This year, I will defeat you."
Just you wait for me.
She whispered it in her heart, fingers tightening into a fist.
"I got it wrong."
Suddenly, Real Sensation spoke up, cutting through Folkqueen's thoughts.
With one hand on her hip, the scruffy girl tilted her head, rummaged through her memory for a moment, then said.
"Isn't it that Japan Cup back-to-back champion from last year… what was her name, the 'Master' or something?"
"I think… she already retired in early March, right?"
"Besides her, I don't even know if Central Tracen Academy still has any other monsters. If not, doesn't that mean the Japan Cup is basically just you and me again? That's fine, right…?"
Real Sensation scratched her head.
"..."
The wind suddenly stopped.
Folkqueen's cold, elegant face—burning with revenge only a moment ago—froze solid.
One second.
Two seconds.
She slowly turned her head. Her gold-and-red eyes looked blankly at Real Sensation, mouth opening a little wider, and she made a sound so vivid it was practically a picture.
"Hah—?!!!!"
(End of Chapter)
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