Over the next few days, Shuta An began to notice Berno Light's unusual behavior.
"I feel like she's watching me quite often," he muttered to himself. "If this were before, she'd definitely have gone to find Oguri Cap."
The Young man did not realize that Berno Light's vigilance stemmed from an inexplicable sense of crisis after discovering him searching for information about Gold City. Yet, such concerns would soon become irrelevant.
To Berno Light's relief, she eventually noticed that her Trainer had not looked at any magazines featuring Gold City since that day.
"Could Oguri have been right after all?" she whispered to herself while sitting beside Shuta An, who was focused on researching the newly debuting French Uma Musume for the coming year. "It seems I was just being overly sensitive."
Deciding to let matters return to normal, Berno Light resolved to stop constantly observing her Trainer.
Throughout the week, Shuta An dedicated his daytime hours to compiling a list of potential opponents for the upcoming French Derby. At night, when he entered the Dream World, he would either accept riding commissions at Kasamatsu or remain at the Kasamatsu Training Center to continue monitoring Oguri Cap's progress.
Then came the weekend. On Saturday morning, Shuta An took Oguri Cap to the hospital once more for a comprehensive physical examination. That afternoon, he spent his time idling in his office.
That night, upon falling asleep, he found himself not at Kasamatsu, but within the inner passageways of Kyoto Racecourse.
"Oh, right—I'm supposed to ride in four races here today," Shuta An murmured as realization dawned. "The fifth, sixth, seventh, and eleventh races."
As a jockey, he had already received detailed information about the day's races the previous evening. Sagami Masayuki's close friend, Trainer Yano Susumu from the Mihono Training Center, had also provided him with clear instructions.
"For the first three races, Shuta-kun can use his own judgment," Yano had said casually. "Those three Uma Musume are just average, nothing special. But for the final race, I want Shuta-kun to be more aggressive with positioning than Honda-kun was before—no more passive chase-down tactics."
Shuta An had readily agreed. After all, since he had yet to meet any of the horses he was to ride that day, strictly following the Trainer's directions was the most appropriate course of action.
It was drizzling that morning at Kyoto Racecourse, and the turf had become slightly heavy due to the rain.
"This is my first time riding here," Shuta An said to himself as he sat firmly atop Dyna Creole, his mount for the fifth race. He brushed away the raindrops clinging to his eye shield.
The gazes of his fellow jockeys were familiar—filled with disdain, curiosity, scrutiny, and doubt—just as they had been when he first appeared at Kasamatsu Racecourse. But Shuta An was no longer the uncertain novice he had once been. Now, he sat astride Dyna Creole with calm confidence, steady as a mountain.
"This horse has no problem with the gate," he recalled from her notes, "but she's always forced to trail behind due to her slow acceleration. And this race—this 1000-meter dirt maiden—is her last chance to remain in Central. If she loses, she'll be expelled."
As for where she would end up after that, Shuta An could easily guess.
"So, thankfully, this is the Dream World, not reality," he murmured. He disliked witnessing moments when even the hope of life was taken away due to lack of talent.
"And fortunately, you met me," he added, pressing his legs against Dyna Creole's sides. "Let's fight together for your chance to live."
Those words were not spoken lightly.
When the gate opened, Shuta An steadied himself with his strong core and immediately drove the filly forward with a powerful push of his right arm, all while gripping his whip in his left hand. Under the mocking gazes of other jockeys, he began to lash Dyna Creole's flank relentlessly.
The race was short—only 1000 meters. The slightly heavy track made it faster than a standard, and once Shuta An realized that Dyna Creole's sluggish acceleration stemmed more from laziness than limitation, he resolved to whip her mercilessly throughout the race.
The sharp, rhythmic cracks of the whip drew the attention of other jockeys.
Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Trainer Yano Susumu watched intently with Dyna Creole's owner. This race would determine the horse's entire future.
"I haven't seen this jockey before," the owner remarked, astonished. "After Ueno fell ill, where did you find him, Trainer Yano? He's actually managing to make Dyna Creole run seriously?"
"He's the rising star from Kasamatsu that newspapers have been comparing to Yutaka Take," Yano replied with a smile. "It seems his reputation is not exaggerated."
"A local jockey, huh..." The owner sighed with mild regret. "It's a pity he hasn't joined Central. He'd make a fine addition."
Yano's smile deepened. "Since he accepted my four commissions, I'd say he's already thinking about making the transition."
The owner raised his eyebrows, intrigued, and turned his eyes back to the race.
On the track, Shuta An gave everything he had. Each time Dyna Creole showed signs of slacking, he immediately responded with a whip—and between strikes, he used push-riding to keep her momentum while easing her fatigue.
Alternating whip and push with perfect timing, Shuta An managed to have Dyna Creole lead from start to finish. For this chronically lazy filly, the extra seconds at the front meant the world.
"Dyna Creole crosses the finish line first! The local rising star's Central debut remains flawless! Even as the least favored, he finishes first!" The Kyoto Racecourse commentator shouted in astonishment.
The spectators were stunned. The sight of a jockey maintaining such fierce, unrelenting energy—whipping and push-riding throughout—was something they rarely saw in Central racing.
"That's... a bit rough, isn't it?" murmured a tall, youthful jockey in the waiting room. His face still held a boyish air as he frowned slightly. "That might work for short distances, but will he ride like that in longer races?"
His concern, however, found no place in the conversation between Yano Susumu and Dyna Creole's owner.
"Excellent, excellent," the owner said with a beaming smile. "Shuta An... I'll remember that name."
"Our Shadai Farm is preparing to establish its own one-mouth club. If he ever transfers to Central, I'll make sure we recruit him as our main jockey."
Shuta An also won the next two races. His fierce whipping on the final stretch made the Japan Racing Association (JRA) executives frown.
"This kind of riding will definitely harm the horse," one of them said. "What if it causes psychological trauma?"
"Europe and America are already setting limits on how many times a jockey can use the whip. I think we should do the same," another manager added.
"Indeed, it's time we followed suit," others nodded in agreement.
Shuta An's wild riding style—and the remarkable results it brought—worried the JRA. They feared that if left unchecked, other jockeys might imitate him. After all, the JRA's academy did not teach this kind of brute-force technique. They would not allow their trainees to become riders who relied purely on power.
So while Shuta An was still celebrating his third victory and taking photos with the horse's owner, he had no idea that his signature move—the windmill whip—was already being marked for restriction.
At that moment, in the waiting room, he was still lost in thought about what Dyna Creole's owner had told him after the first race:
"Compared to the local scene, Central is much broader. If you ever plan to transfer there, Shuta-kun, our Yoshida Family will entrust our horses to you as much as possible."
Shuta An had heard something similar in the real world—
"Some Uma Musume families in Europe recruit Trainers solely for their own bloodlines. They even pass them down through generations…" His eyes lowered. "Still, with Mr. Yoshida's offer, I won't have to worry about commissions if I move to Central someday."
Across the room, the young jockey who had complained about Shuta An's windmill whip was staring at his back. He hadn't had any rides in the last three races, so he'd stayed behind, silently watching.
"But in the eleventh race—the main event—I'll finally get to face him." The young jockey clenched his fists. "I'll show him that rough riding can't win a major race!"
Shuta An sneezed. Rubbing his nose, he muttered, "Could Oguri Cap be talking about me?"
When the time for the eleventh race came, a steady drizzle still fell over Kyoto Racecourse. Before leaving the waiting room, Shuta An carefully wiped the rain off the plastic visor of his helmet with a towel.
"I'll need a hot bath when I get home tonight," he murmured, stepping out.
Just as he was about to exit, another jockey in colorful silks brushed past him, leaving behind only one line:
"Remember the name of the one who'll defeat you—Yutaka Take!"
Shuta An raised an eyebrow. Of course, he knew that name.
"The 'Central super rookie' who debuted the same year as me, huh…" He squinted at Yutaka Take's back. "I don't know why he's so hostile toward me—but whatever. I'm here to win."
When Shuta An saw Gold City in the parade ring, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly. "The horses here really are connected to the Uma Musume in the real world, huh?"
Just as Oguri Cap in the Dream World was a big eater like her real counterpart, Gold City—beloved for her beauty—was equally dazzling here.
After mounting with the staff's help, Shuta An adjusted his seat and focus.
"Kyoto's 2200 meters… with rain like this, someone will definitely try to control the pace," he thought. "Gold City likes to stay near the front and then surge, so I'll have to take a forward position—and not get caught behind the leaders."
Meanwhile, Yutaka Take met his own partner, Leo Tenzan. His plan was to use a slow-escape tactic—taking the lead early and controlling the tempo all the way to the finish.
As the gates opened, Yutaka Take, starting from the far outside in gate 12, immediately urged Leo Tenzan forward to seize the lead. From gate 6, Shuta An quietly settled Gold City in mid-pack.
"He's taking a more aggressive position than usual," the live commentator noted. "Gold City, the only G1 winner in the field, is already closer to the front than in her past runs."
Yutaka Take, of course, couldn't hear any of that. Passing the 1000-meter mark, his instincts told him he'd set a slow pace—around 63 seconds for the first kilometre. Glancing back on the turn, he smiled faintly. "No one's chasing. Looks like this one's mine."
But because he looked right, he didn't see Shuta An and Gold City drifting left—taking the outside and quietly building momentum.
Before the final 398-meter stretch, Shuta An leaned forward, urging Gold City's neck. She began to accelerate.
Entering the straight in fourth place, Shuta An gave a sharp right-hand whip, shifting Gold City slightly to the left—clearing her path completely.
Yutaka Take began whipping, just as he was taught in the academy: one whip, a few pushes, another whip.
On the other side, Shuta An didn't use his windmill whip—not because he couldn't, but because he didn't need to.
Gold City lived up to her reputation. Once given the right path, she unleashed her signature late burst.
"Gold City is charging! Can Leo Tenzan hold on? Only 100 meters left! Yutaka Take is still pushing! Can he escape?!"
Yutaka Take heard the commentator faintly through the rain. He turned his head left—and saw that same local jockey from earlier, coming up fast beside him.
Eyes widening, he pushed harder. "He saw through my pace trap?!"
A trackside reporter captured the perfect shot as the two raced neck and neck through the rain.
"The first duel of two prodigies," he thought, already imagining the headline.
The next second, Shuta An and Gold City tore through the curtain of rain, surging past Yutaka Take and Leo Tenzan.
"I'll take the victory of the Kyoto Shimbun Hai!" Shuta An shouted.
Turning his head to the right, even through the rain, Yutaka Take could clearly see that bright, fearless smile—the kind that seemed to part the clouds themselves.