To put it bluntly, the training camp was a resounding success. After a period of relentless, full-contact sparring with Sunday Silence, Stay Gold had climbed to an even higher plateau of performance.
"Suzuka!!"
"What a kick...! But I won't let you!"
They were in the middle of a mock race. Even though Silence Suzuka was showing the fruits of Maruzensky's tutelage—proving that she and her teammates had leveled up significantly—Stay Gold was still managing to hunt her down. In the final stretch, he unleashed a terrifying burst of late-stage speed, eating away at the distance between them.
Even for a two-person mock race, the gap had been over ten lengths. Yet, Stay Gold hadn't flinched. He didn't rush his move or mistime his strike; he waited for the perfect moment to launch his assault.
"Stay Gold is so fast!"
"Suzuka's cornering was supposed to be flawless... How is he putting this much pressure on her? For real?!"
"Just a little further! Hang in there, Suzuka!"
"The view from the front... is mine to keep!" Suzuka cried, her voice strained with effort.
"Your win belongs to me, dammit!" Stay Gold roared back.
The two blurred past the finish line in a fierce heat. Rampage, who had been timing the run, glanced down at the tablet in his hand to confirm the winner.
"1800m turf mock race: Silence Suzuka vs. Stay Gold. The winner—by a margin of 0.14 seconds—is Stay Gold!"
"Hell yeah! Suck on that!"
"I... I lost..." Suzuka panted, leaning over her knees.
Mock races had become a staple at Team Pleiades. They were designed to remind the girls that while they were teammates, they were also rivals within the Twinkle Series. Usually, Rampage pitted an entire generation against each other; this time, it had been a targeted one-on-one.
"You've gotten a hell of a lot faster, Stego," Rampage noted. "Where'd that usual hair-trigger temper of yours go?"
"Hah?"
Stay Gold's greatest weakness was his temperament; despite his immense talent, he was prone to taking the bait whenever an opponent provoked him. Of course, the sheer power he unleashed when pushed was also his greatest strength... but now, he simply shot Rampage a smug, knowing look.
"Getting worked up over every little thing is a drag. You only need to go 'all-out' for the final stretch. Unlike you, old man, I'm actually smart."
"Ho? Listen to you talk."
Rampage knew Stay Gold was mocking the "full-throttle from start to finish" style he'd used during the Legend Race. He couldn't even be mad; looking back, Rampage had to admit he'd been a bit of an idiot himself.
"It's all to beat that piece of crap," Stay Gold muttered. "If I let him get under my skin every time, there'd be no end to it."
"Ah... I see how it is."
Throughout the camp, Stay Gold had been in a constant state of friction with Sunday Silence. It wasn't an exaggeration to say his entire regimen had been 'Sunday-centric.' Apparently, their constant bickering had carried over into their runs. Through that friction, Stay Gold had realized how idiotic it was to let someone else dictate his rhythm. As a result, he'd mastered the art of maintaining his own pace without deviation, saving his explosive energy for a total release at the very end.
"It was honestly a little eerie," Suzuka added. "It felt like Stay was just... ignoring me. He didn't say a word while we were running."
"Why would I waste the energy?" Stay Gold grunted.
By constantly competing against an overwhelmingly superior opponent, he had been forced to think—really think—about what it took to win. He really is an American legend, Rampage thought, acknowledging Sunday Silence's influence.
"Still... for Stay Gold to win..." Maya whispered. "It looked like a dead heat to me. How did you know the exact time difference, Rampage-san?"
"This."
Rampage pointed to a section of Stay Gold's jersey. Before the girl could ask why, he reached out and plucked something from the seam. He held it out on his palm: a tiny, white, chip-like object.
"I thought that felt a bit bulky. What the hell is it?" Stay Gold asked.
"An RFID chip. With this, I can track your position within a few centimeters. It gives me real-time data on your speed and acceleration."
"You planted a bug in my jersey!?"
"Not just yours. I put them in everyone's."
"WHAAAAT!?"
The girls immediately began patting down their clothes, finding the chips hidden discreetly where the fabric doubled at the seams—places where you'd never notice them during a normal run.
"I made sure they wouldn't interfere with your movement. There's no point in collecting data if the tech makes you run like a robot," Rampage explained.
"How... how are you this prepared? This is like some sci-fi stuff..."
"It's not sci-fi; it's the pinnacle of modern sports tech. Every player in American pro football wears these."
"Oh! I've heard of those!" El Condor Pasa chirped.
"Me too, de-su!"
"Are you serious...?" Stay Gold muttered, stunned.
Rampage had utilized his extensive American connections, asking Minamisaka to act as a middleman to introduce him to a reliable supplier. Naturally, he'd tested the tech on his own body before giving it to the girls.
"In this sport, we have to be even more sensitive to numbers than they are in football. If you don't use the high-tech tools available to you, you're just losing. High-tech that isn't used is just low-tech by another name. For the record, I've already cleared this with the Chairwoman. She wants the more accurate data."
There was a certain charm to a handheld stopwatch, but human error was inevitable. It was better to leave the precision to the machines and reap the rewards of the data. The beauty of the system wasn't just the timing; by calculating acceleration curves, Rampage could offer much more granular coaching. Combined with the infrared sensors at the finish line, timing errors were now a thing of the past.
"...This looks like it cost a disgusting amount of money," Stay Gold noted warily.
"I provided the data I used to calibrate the system in exchange for the hardware. You kids don't need to worry about the bill."
"I knew it! Rampage-san really is a Global Champion!"
"The kind of Horse Girl I want to be is definitely someone like Rampage-san!"
"I won't let you have that title," Suzuka said firmly.
"Wait, what?! Suzuka-san, your reflexes are too fast!"
Regardless of the cost, Team Pleiades was evolving at an incredible rate. The only remaining question was Rampage's own experience as a trainer... but that was a work in progress.
"Alright, everyone. Show me what this camp did for you. Especially you, Mayaya—your next race is coming up. Get your head in the game. I'm expecting to earn my 'G1 Trainer' title soon."
"Roger that! Tama-san taught me a ton, so I'm gonna show everyone what Maya can do!"
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