Talent. What a topic one could never avoid.
And clearly, the Uma Musume standing beside Gotham Song felt the same helplessness about it. She too had no better answer to give.
Because that was simply how things were. No one—no matter who—could offer a better response. Once you realized that truth clearly, what else could you do besides hope that more Uma Musume might be blessed with talent?
In the end, the two of them tacitly shifted the conversation away from that subject, moving instead toward something else.
And, of course, between two racing Uma Musume, what was the most likely topic to follow?
"So, you… how did you meet that silly child, Flightline?"
"Flightline, huh? So that's her name? Hmm… I suppose you could call it a coincidence."
Gotham Song didn't intend to ask why such a thing had happened. Not because she doubted her own team member—but precisely because she didn't. That fool Flightline was absolutely the type to cause trouble only passively, through sheer chance, and never with any clear reason behind it.
So yes, getting a few details from someone who at least looked more logical, more grounded, was quite necessary.
Gotham Song was genuinely curious—how had Flightline ended up meeting this Uma Musume, and what exactly had unfolded afterward?
And so, from the other's calm retelling, Gotham Song learned the whole story.
It was, unexpectedly, a simple and rather impulsive little tale—nothing at all like she'd imagined.
"Actually, I'm staying in America right now because… I still have a few things to take care of. I originally had some friends here with me, but they happened to have something important to do yesterday. I wasn't interested, so I stayed behind alone.
"And since I had nothing else to do, I didn't want to sit at home idle. I thought, it's been so long since I've really run—why not feel the wind on my face again? So I went out to find a quiet path, one with few people, and jogged for a bit."
Her voice was soft, her tone gentle. There wasn't a shred of aggression in her manner.
In fact, everything about her felt calm and composed. It was, in its own way, almost soothing to listen to.
"And then, should I call it luck or misfortune? There weren't many people around—but among those few, while I was jogging, someone suddenly came up from behind, ran up alongside me, clearly wanting to compete…"
"Flightline," Gotham Song murmured, her expression saying I knew it.
Of course it was her. She'd already guessed it. That husky-brained idiot of hers must've seen someone jogging down a road she usually had all to herself and immediately felt provoked, unable to resist the urge to challenge them—eager for a headlong, exhilarating race.
But that was an asphalt road! For any racing Uma Musume, even with running shoes on, you had to be careful not to overdo it on that kind of surface!
This disobedient fool… looks like when there's time later, I'll have to teach her properly what a racing Uma Musume can and cannot do.
I just hope Flightline learns to grit her teeth and accept it… heh.
"Though really, nothing unpleasant happened," the woman continued lightly. "She's a young Uma Musume, after all. I had no reason to hold it against her. But, as a racer myself—if someone challenged you so directly, Miss Song, wouldn't you also find it impossible to resist?"
"Of course."
So, the senior Uma Musume had simply decided to teach Flightline a lesson, hadn't she?
The two of them ran, chasing one another down that paved road, until finally, one of them chose to stop.
"But really," she said, smiling faintly, "ending it there felt far too anticlimactic. So I told her—'Tomorrow. Tomorrow at Aqueduct Racetrack. Let's have a proper match and settle this once and for all.'
"And she said, 'I don't care who you are! If that's all you've got, I don't think I'll lose. I'll make you taste defeat!'"
"Flightline said that? Did you teach her to talk like that, Miss Song?"
P-probably not…
Gotham Song's mouth twitched, and as she looked at the radiant smile of the Uma Musume beside her, she instantly understood—
This one was definitely doing it on purpose.
She'd provoked Flightline deliberately, just to lead her straight into a trap!
As expected… when a kind, gentle-looking Uma Musume decided to use a little cunning, she was far more terrifying than any other type.
"Of course not," Gotham Song replied. "I'm not that scary…"
At least, she wouldn't actually teach such lines to her trainees—though she'd admit, sometimes she did think that way herself.
Her response was firm. Well—probably mostly firm. In any case, to escape this awkward moment, she quickly changed the subject.
"Ah—come to think of it, you haven't told me your name yet, have you?"
And that question wasn't entirely a deflection. Gotham Song truly was curious.
She didn't know why, but even though it was their first meeting, this Uma Musume gave her an overwhelming sense of familiarity. Her looks were reminiscent of Secretariat; her demeanor reminded her of several others; and—was that a trace of Sunday Silence in there too?
It was so absurd it made her head spin.
Could it be—another ghost Uma Musume?
But to her surprise, Gotham Song's question didn't get a direct answer.
"My name? Hmm… I'd love to tell you now, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait just a little longer. Ah, Flightline's here. Miss Song, could I ask you to stay seated right here and watch? I'll show you—my strength."
Clearly, this mysterious Uma Musume intended to keep her identity secret a little longer. She didn't even give Gotham Song a chance to press her before striding out toward the track, standing at the starting line to await Flightline's arrival.
A showdown was clearly about to begin.
But even before it started, Gotham Song could already foresee the outcome… Did she even need to think about it?
Flightline—absolutely had no chance of winning.
Under Gotham Song's watchful gaze, Flightline gave everything she had—no, she surpassed everything she had. It was an all-out effort, a desperate surge beyond her own limits.
And yet, the Uma Musume running beside her remained perfectly composed. She didn't even feel a sliver of pressure. On the contrary, from every angle, she utterly overwhelmed Flightline—trampling her at every step despite Flightline's maximum output.
Was this supposed to be a friendly race?
Yes—and no.
Yes, because it had begun as a mutually agreed duel.
No, because once they started running, there was no trace of a "match" left. It had turned into pure, one-sided domination.
This was a massacre—an outright, unilateral slaughter by that unknown Uma Musume.
Gotham Song could hardly bear to watch.
It was too brutal.
Too merciless.
Finally, Gotham Song looked away. She didn't want to witness what was happening on the track anymore. But once Flightline vanished from her sight, she suddenly understood something clearly:
Even now, Flightline was still running her heart out. If she, as the Trainer, gave up first—wouldn't that be utterly wrong?
So, despite the brutal scene unfolding before her eyes, Gotham Song forced herself to look back at the track. She watched Flightline's every step with absolute clarity, refusing to miss even a single moment. She engraved it all into her eyes…!
The race between the two Uma Musume had become incredibly fierce—so fierce that even the Uma Musume training in the distance abandoned their own practice, gathering around the stands to watch. Their trainers, standing beside them, made sure to seize this teaching moment clearly:
Watch closely, kids. If you wish to become racing Uma Musume capable of standing on your own, this is your goal.
This—is your goal.
Flightline was still being thoroughly beaten, yet Gotham Song felt strangely proud for her.
Flightline, you've grown enough to become someone else's target now, haven't you?
She hadn't noticed before, but perhaps now was the time to seriously plan out Flightline's next classic-year path?
I'll think it over carefully when I get home…!
However, reality didn't pause just because her thoughts shifted. On the track, something was changing between the two Uma Musume still racing at the limits of their endurance.
Gotham Song saw clearly: Flightline had already exceeded her stamina's absolute limit. The silly girl had reached her breaking point.
This isn't good. What if something happened to her?
Realizing this, Gotham Song jumped down from the stands, kicked off her inconvenient heels, and carefully felt the sand beneath her bare feet. She waited patiently for the two runners to approach her position, preparing to run alongside them—ready for any emergency that might happen.
But just as they neared the perfect spot, Gotham Song clearly met the gaze of the black-haired Uma Musume.
In those eyes, she saw a definite message:
Don't worry. Nothing will happen. Leave it to me.
Leave it to you… Gotham Song fell into deep hesitation. She deeply regretted not wearing running shoes when she left home today. But even if she wanted to run barefoot on this rough dirt track, she couldn't possibly manage it. She'd probably end up bedridden again—just like last time. And besides…
The other Uma Musume clearly knew something was about to happen. That was exactly why she'd reacted that way.
All Gotham Song could do was trust her.
But even so, Gotham Song still stood waiting anxiously at the edge of the track, clutching her discarded heels, preparing for the inevitable incident she somehow knew would come.
Knowing something will happen, yet being powerless to prevent it… What a truly bizarre feeling.
She closed her eyes. The sharp, prickly feeling of the sand beneath her feet irritated her tender skin, yet her attention was entirely elsewhere—fixed tightly on the struggling Uma Musume in the distance, waiting patiently until…
Until one lap after another, Flightline—far past her breaking point—staggered and finally collapsed in a heap of exhaustion and sweat, nearly at the end of her second lap.
The moment Gotham Song saw Flightline go down, just as she prepared to accelerate forward, the other Uma Musume was already there, gently catching Flightline before she hit the ground. Slowly, she helped Flightline back up, signaling to Gotham Song as they carefully made their way over.
"She's passed out. Such a stubborn child. This must definitely be something she learned from you."
Clearly, this challenged Uma Musume hadn't had an easy time either. Flightline's endurance wasn't actually poor; it was just slightly lacking compared to absolute monsters like Gentildonna. And thanks to Gotham Song's relentless training, Flightline's skills and pacing had long since grown refined.
"You surprised me. I thought this would be easy. Now it seems—I really did underestimate her."
Flightline isn't weak. Gotham Song repeated this firmly in her heart. I need to emphasize it again: Flightline isn't weak. Especially today—Flightline had displayed unparalleled strength during this run.
"You really did underestimate her, you know. Not only Flightline—but perhaps something else too."
"Is that so? Honestly, I didn't expect you'd go to such lengths for your trainee. This is a dirt track, after all. Even I wouldn't dare step onto it barefoot."
Even you wouldn't? Isn't that arrogance a bit too blatant?
"Yes, even you. Which means I'm clearly stronger. Isn't that obvious enough? Now let's return to our original topic."
"Can you finally tell me your name?"
'Clearly stronger'… you really dare to say that. But then again, if this Uma Musume was truly who Gotham Song suspected her to be, perhaps she genuinely had the right to speak so boldly. Ah, she'd already seen through her, hadn't she?
"My name… If you're asking that question, haven't you already guessed it yourself? Or…"
"Do you still need me to say it clearly?"
Gotham Song remained silent, her dazzling eyes fixed sharply on the Uma Musume before her.
Inside those brilliant blue eyes was unmistakable hostility—and a desire to crush everything before her.
The Uma Musume facing her sighed faintly. Truly, no matter the era, a tyrant always lay hidden deep in their hearts, ready to return to this world at the first opportunity—ready to devour anything displeasing.
Interesting. Perhaps in terms of raw strength, Gotham Song was indeed superior now, but…
Wasn't it even more exciting to destroy a self-proclaimed, stronger tyrant?
Now, it seemed, the roles had reversed. She was the challenger this time.
"Fine, then. My name…"
"Is simply Fighter."
The one who destroys the strong, who slays tyrants—
Man o' War!
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