New York.
A black-haired horse-girl was walking down the street, eyes fixed on her phone as she followed the route on the screen.
Her hair—dark as spilled ink—fell loosely down her back. With a delicate, refined face and those distinctive red eyes, she drew plenty of attention from passersby.
She was no one else but Hui Fujimura, who had used the spatial waypoint to arrive in the United States.
Right now, he was following navigation to a nearby racing association.
His goal for coming to America was simple: to finalize the registration for Scarlet Eyes' debut race.
Since he'd already decided to debut in the U.S., then naturally, the debut race had to be done here.
"Still annoying that I have to register for the debut race in person… What a hassle."
Hui looked at the unfamiliar streets ahead and let out a quiet sigh.
Fortunately, debuting in America wasn't especially strict. You only needed proof of trainer credentials, a security deposit, and then the horse-girl had to pass a medical exam—after that, registration was complete.
For Hui, the process was fairly straightforward. He had his trainer certification with him. Even though the nationality was different, he'd looked into it and confirmed his license should still be valid for registration.
As for the deposit… he'd saved up plenty of coins in his little stash. He could afford it.
The two steps most likely to cause problems weren't an issue for him, and the final medical exam was even less of a concern.
So registering for a debut race in America shouldn't be difficult.
"The real problem is language…"
Hui's English wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either—usable, at best. On top of that, he had the stereotypical Japanese-accented pronunciation, which made locals think he sounded especially strange.
As he walked toward the association, he could already picture himself trying to talk to staff with dead, unblinking eyes.
Yeah. That would be hell.
Before long, he arrived at the local racing association.
From the outside it looked like an ordinary office building, but the constant flow of horse-girls and trainers coming and going at the entrance made it clear how busy it was.
The moment Hui pushed open the door, he felt it—strong stares.
Horse-girls passing by and trainers alike shot hostile looks at this East Asian-faced outsider.
Pretty unwelcoming.
Hui ignored the attention, went to a service window, and began speaking with the staff member in halting, clumsy English.
"I want to enter a debut race."
"Certainly. Please provide the required documents for verification."
Hui obediently handed over his trainer license. Maybe it was his imagination, but the staff member's brow twitched when they saw it.
"Are you sure you want to debut in this district?"
They asked the question again, and Hui's answer didn't change.
"Yes."
"…Then please pay the security deposit as well."
Just as Hui was about to pay with his credit card, an unfriendly voice came from beside him.
"Tch, tch, tch. Anything and everything thinks it can come squeeze into our circuit now."
Hui turned toward the grating sound and saw a horse-girl standing next to him—tall, heavily built, thick with muscle, wearing a smile that was anything but friendly.
"…?"
What was her problem?
She looked like she was here to pick a fight, but Hui couldn't tell what she actually wanted. He asked in unpolished English.
"Excuse me. Do you need something?"
"Heh. That accent—Japanese, right? Don't tell me you're trying to register and race here. Give it up. Go back to Japan. This isn't a playground for kids."
Her attitude was pure provocation, and Hui's brow creased.
Horse-girls were generally kind by nature, but clearly, different places produced different temperaments. The horse-girls here weren't nearly as friendly as the ones in Japan.
Hui chose to ignore her and continued the registration process.
"I've paid. Is there anything else?"
For Hui, dealing with someone like this was a waste of time. The sooner he finished registering, the sooner he could go back and sleep.
"Just fill in the participating horse-girl's name here…"
The staff member handed him a form and pointed to a blank field.
Hui picked up the pen, ready to write—when the horse-girl beside him, furious at being ignored, slapped the pen out of his hand.
It clattered away.
"What kind of trash circuit horse-girl thinks she can come mix with us? Get back to your country!"
Racism, American-style—apparently, it was a mandatory experience.
This horse-girl was clearly the type that looked down on the Japanese circuit.
And judging by how brazen she was, this wasn't the first time she'd come here to bully someone. She'd probably done it plenty before.
Unfortunately for her, this time she'd run into the wrong person.
Hui Fujimura did not have a gentle temperament.
To her, the black-haired horse-girl from Japan suddenly radiated a pressure out of nowhere.
It was suffocating—like invisible hands clamping around her throat. In those deep crimson eyes, a blade-like sharpness flashed, as if they could slit her open in the next breath.
"You're taking yourself a little too seriously."
Hui stood and met her gaze.
By size alone, he looked a head shorter than she did—yet for some reason, everyone watching felt the foreign horse-girl was the one holding the upper hand.
"W-What's your problem?! Am I wrong?! Japan is one of the most garbage circuits—!"
The pressure coming off Hui was so intense her voice trembled, but she forced herself to keep talking, trying to save face by hurling insults.
"What Japan's circuit is like isn't for a nobody like you to run your mouth about."
Hui stepped forward, grabbed her by the collar, and yanked her in.
Despite her larger frame, she stumbled forward two steps from the pull.
"I want to see what you've actually got, running that mouth in here. Come on—tell me your name."
The black-haired, red-eyed girl looked like a lion holding back fury—his face calm, but the rage under it barely contained.
And under his stare, the other horse-girl spoke her real name as if bewitched.
"C-Cal… California Accelerator…"
"If you've got the guts, sign up for a race with me, you worthless piece of trash."
With one shove, Hui sent California Accelerator sprawling to the floor. He looked down at her coldly.
Then he picked up the pen from the ground, wrote a name on the form, and strode out, leaving the staff member flustered and at a loss over the sudden chaos.
The staff member lifted the form and slowly read the name written there—
"Red Eyes?"
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