Tamamo Cross took the bun and bit into it with gusto.
"What is this? It's bursting with flavors and smells amazing～!"
Her expression was pure bliss—like she'd ascended to heaven. The other Uma Musume in the classroom began licking their lips, eyes locked on the bun.
But alas, they couldn't just walk up and grab one.
Oguri Cap had the entire classroom's breakfast monopoly.
After class, Tamamo Cross spun around in her seat.
"Oguri, give me Peach Wave's contact info!"
"Sure, here."
This time, she wasn't going to miss out. The cafeteria had already informed other colleges, and by then, the daylilies were cold.
Tamamo Cross finally understood: Peach Waves wasn't just a chef—she was a force.
That afternoon, after training, Peach Waves waved goodbye to Suzuka and returned to her dorm to strategize.
"I've got a training match with Suzuka tomorrow. I need a solid plan."
"Chasing from behind won't work. First, it's too recognizable. Second, Suzuka's escape style is fast—I might catch up too easily."
She opened the prize carousel and began spinning while thinking.
"Maybe I'll follow her pace and look for a chance to overtake."
Suddenly, a burst of light flashed. An icon shaped like a book appeared.
"Huh… Jet 3-stage?"
[Technique: Jet Three-Stage]
Gather energy into your legs and release three bursts of acceleration in rapid succession.
As Peach Waves read the description, the skill transformed into a glowing light and entered her body.
The training method for the skill downloaded into her mind.
"Perfect. I'll start practicing tomorrow."
The technique focused on short bursts—three accelerations within three meters. But it demanded immense endurance and power. In conversion matches, speed, intelligence, and willpower needed to be B-rank, while endurance and strength had to be S-rank.
"I know how to train for this."
She closed the carousel and opened her backpack. Inside was a bottle of high-grade strength training potion.
She smiled.
"This is the key."
Meanwhile, in her dorm, Silent Suzuka sat at her desk, tutoring herself. Across from her was an empty bed.
"For tomorrow's match… Peach Waves, I won't let you take the lead."
Her voice was soft but resolute. Yet her mind kept drifting to Peach Waves' graceful figure.
Why does she keep appearing in my thoughts?
Suzuka shook her head.
"I've been training and studying too much. I need sleep."
Next afternoon.
Peach Waves arrived at the Rigil team's training grounds and spotted Okino lounging in a recliner, watching a play.
Nearby, Gold Ship was playing chess with Vodka, while Scarlet observed.
"Mr. Okino."
Her arrival caught the attention of all three Uma Musume.
"Huh? Peach Waves? What's up?"
"I need help with a training project. You're free and idle—come help."
Okino blinked, then stood up.
"Sure. I've always wanted to see how you train."
Gold Ship immediately claimed the recliner.
"Finally, a comfy chair. No way I'm giving this up."
Scarlet and Vodka followed Okino, curious.
Under a massive iron pillar, Peach Waves strapped three elastic bands to herself and tied the other ends to the pillar.
"Each band has different elasticity. Mr. Okino, hold the stopwatch. One minute per band.
Start with the shortest. After one minute, release it. Then the middle one. Then the longest."
Okino nodded, quickly grasping the setup. It was a strength drill—but why three bands?
Scarlet and Vodka watched with wide eyes.
They'd been waiting for Okino to give them a training plan. So far, nothing. Chess with Gold Ship had gotten boring.
Now, they were about to witness the infamous training maniac in action.
Okino started the timer.
Peng!
A loud snap echoed as Peach Waves launched forward, the first band stretching taut.
Her restrained sprint stunned the onlookers.
"Scary, huh?" Okino said, watching the stopwatch.
"Her power is insane. That band looks ready to snap.." Scarlet murmured.
"No way. These are custom bands—they won't break. Vodka retorted.
"Calm down, you two," Okino sighed.
At the one-minute mark, he released the first band.
Whoosh!
The second band stretched instantly.
"You two want to try this later?" Okino grinned.
"Okay!"
"I'm in!"
"Warm up first. We'll set up your session."
As they jogged off, Okino turned back to Peach Waves.
She was panting now, sweat dripping—but she didn't slow down.
At the second minute, Okino released the final band.
Peach Waves surged forward with everything she had.
"What do I do when time's up?"
"Record your 200-meter time."
"Got it. I'm ready."
At the third minute, Okino released the last band.
The blue-and-white blur shot forward like an arrow.
She crossed the marked line. Okino hit the stopwatch.
"15.99 seconds."
He stared at the result.
This wasn't a race sprint. It was a post-exhaustion sprint—after three minutes of full-power resistance.
Compared to race times, this was phenomenal.
Peach Waves walked back, drenched and exhausted.
"How was it?"
"15.99. Want to keep going?"
"Yeah… but let me rest first."
She bent over, hands on knees, calculating her energy candy plan.
One before the match. Two more for six sets—three sets per round.