Under a gloomy afternoon sky, Tokyo Racecourse—already worn from a full day of racing—prepared for its final and highest-level event. But just as the moment arrived, the heavens opened up in a torrential downpour. The track, already churned to a mess by the earlier races, deteriorated even further under the deluge. Conditions that had been poor became outright treacherous.
Up in the spectator stands, Symboli Rudolf glanced at the sky and frowned.
"I didn't expect the rain to arrive this early. The morning forecast said it wouldn't hit until tonight."
"But this makes the race far more interesting, don't you think?"
Maruzensky wore the expression of someone settling in to watch a show.
Without this downpour, she wouldn't have doubted for a second that Kitasan Black would shatter the course record yet again.
But this rain had arrived at the perfect moment. A race that should have been a foregone conclusion now held entirely new possibilities.
In Maruzensky's view, this rain would become the greatest obstacle standing between Kitasan Black and continued dominance.
It might trouble Kitasan Black even more than any of the other competitors would.
"Oh? You think that girl won't be able to adapt to these conditions?"
Symboli Rudolf wasn't so sure. Based on her observations, she didn't consider Kitasan Black a pure speed-type racer. Kitasan Black seemed more like a stamina specialist—and a powerful one at that.
"I just think conditions like these are rough on front-runners like us, that's all."
Maruzensky could see Kitasan Black's uniqueness as well.
But she simply couldn't believe a track this bad would have zero effect on a front-runner's speed.
If it were up to Maruzensky to choose, she'd never run on a track like this.
Front-runners already burned through more stamina than other running styles. Compared to stalkers and closers, there was almost no opportunity to catch your breath during a race—you had to maintain peak intensity at the head of the pack the entire time.
The sensation was exhilarating, certainly. But also exhausting.
And with Maruzensky's own stamina not being her strong suit, a track in this condition would be a real challenge.
Kitasan Black's situation might be different, of course.
But even so, the environmental impact was undeniable.
Unless Kitasan Black changed her usual approach, she'd face more problems in this race than anyone else on the field.
Even Maruzensky herself, if she were racing today, probably couldn't perform at full capacity under these conditions.
Unless she could enter a state of Flow.
In Flow, every uma musume could perform at one hundred percent—and environmental interference ceased to matter.
But in some ways, Flow was even harder to achieve than ZONE.
It wasn't that entering Flow caused total focus. It was the other way around.
It was because an uma musume could achieve complete focus on the race that she could enter that extraordinary state.
And that created a paradox.
Conventional wisdom said you needed Flow to reach a state of total concentration, right?
But the prerequisite for Flow was that the uma musume first reached total concentration through her own willpower.
So how, exactly, were they supposed to enter Flow?
Because of this mechanism, no uma musume in the world could truly claim to have mastered the power completely. Some could enter Flow in every race, sure—but that was almost always because they'd never encountered a worthy opponent. The moment they faced someone evenly matched, the resulting mental disturbance would knock them right out of the state.
This rain would undoubtedly affect the competitors' mental states.
Combined with the heavy track, any uma musume who managed to enter Flow under these conditions had to be someone who thought of absolutely nothing except victory. Did Kitasan Black fit that profile?
Maruzensky didn't think so.
"Given the stamina that girl has shown in previous races, I think she'll be fine."
Symboli Rudolf, on the other hand, had full confidence in Kitasan Black's ability.
Maruzensky didn't argue further.
After all, when she thought back to Kitasan Black's absurd performances in those earlier races…
Her confidence wavered.
Could the common sense she relied on even apply to a little monster like Kitasan Black?
...
The commentator's voice boomed through the speakers.
"The time has come once again—the annual premier event!"
"GI, 2400 meters, Tokyo Turf Course—the world-class competition: the Japan Cup!"
"What an exciting prospect! Looking at this year's lineup, every competitor is exceptional. And of course, the nation's current favorite, Kitasan Black, has entered as well!" the host added.
"Absolutely! This might be the strongest Japan Cup we've seen in years!"
The commentator then turned directly to the camera. "Thank you so much to everyone watching this live broadcast! As you can see, a sudden downpour has hit the venue, but even so, nothing can dampen the enthusiasm of the fans here today! Everyone is looking forward to this race!"
"Now then, let's take a look at today's sixteen competitors! Though I'm sure many of these names need no introduction—without a doubt, every racer who's made it here is a battle-tested champion!"
One by one, the competitors entered the venue to the commentator's introductions, making their way toward the starting gate.
The rain was coming down hard. The track conditions were abysmal.
Up in the stands, sheltering under an overhang, Okino muttered, "I didn't expect conditions this bad—a genuine heavy track. But for Gold Ship's running aptitude, these conditions should actually give her an advantage over the others. I just hope that idiot doesn't do anything reckless."
Gold Ship might hate running in conditions like these, but she possessed extraordinary adaptability to heavy tracks.
That was the thing—despite all her complaints about bad weather and poor footing, she truly did have the talent for it.
Still, as Gold Ship's trainer, Okino couldn't feel at ease about this race.
Setting aside whether the conditions would affect Gold Ship's mood, the competition alone was overwhelming.
The field was stacked with powerhouses.
Orfevre, Gentildonna, Kiwami, Sweep Tosho… and those were just the ones who'd come gunning for a certain someone.
Then there was that certain someone herself—the strongest racer on the field.
The overseas entries were no pushovers either.
Last year's Arc de Triomphe third-place finisher. A prodigy who'd claimed two GI wins during her Classic year…
Gold Ship's ability, measured against this crowd, was frankly unremarkable.
...
The Japan Cup.
It was one of the three races in the Autumn Triple Crown, but in many ways it could be called Japan's most prestigious race. First place carried a staggering prize of 500,000,000 yen—the highest purse of any GI in the country.
Internationally, the Japan Cup ranked just behind the Arc de Triomphe as one of the world's premier racing events.
Make no mistake: this was an incredibly high-stakes race.
A victory here meant more rating points and prize money than a typical GI—potentially double.
For any domestic racer, winning the Japan Cup earned the title of Grand General, even if their prior record had been mediocre. People naturally thought of Special Week when they heard "Grand General," but it wasn't an exclusive title—it belonged to every domestic uma musume who'd conquered the Japan Cup.
And that didn't diminish the title's prestige in the slightest.
After all, this race featured not only the nation's very best, but international challengers as well.
Claiming victory in a field like this was exponentially harder than in any other event.
Prize money, as a rule, was commensurate with the difficulty of the race.
At least, that's how it should have worked.
...
As Kitasan Black entered the venue, she sized up the so-called overseas competitors.
None of them have even awakened ZONE?
There wasn't a single monster-class racer among them.
The prize money for this race was enormous, sure, but for uma musume at that level, apparently even the Japan Cup wasn't worth the trip.
For a variety of reasons, fewer and fewer overseas racers bothered to challenge this event nowadays.
Kitasan Black could understand why.
It was common knowledge that the world's top-tier racing events leaned heavily toward dirt tracks. Even the turf courses abroad were closer to dirt conditions than what you'd find in Japan.
But Japan's turf was something else entirely—a product unique to this country, completely divorced from international track standards.
So any overseas racer who came without doing her homework would quickly discover that Japanese turf was nothing like what she was used to. And adapting to a foreign track in the span of a single race? That wasn't something most people could pull off.
True geniuses and monsters might manage it.
But from their perspective, why bother?
Look far enough, and you'd realize that Japan's uma musume racing scene was an anomaly—almost insular. Other countries' racers often got the impression that Japanese uma musume were playing a completely different game.
And the most absurd part? Even when Japanese racers used their home advantage to fend off international challengers at the Japan Cup, their own results overseas were consistently poor.
That made sense, too. Japanese uma musume almost never possessed dual adaptability for both turf and dirt.
The major international races were either on dirt or near-dirt turf, with only a handful of courses that resembled Japanese turf. The Japanese racers who'd performed well overseas were invariably the rare ones with that dual adaptability.
Add in the fact that Japan had produced its share of geniuses and monsters in recent years…
Why would anyone fly over just to get beaten?
Even a monster of equal caliber would suffer significantly under the double debuff of poor adaptability and unfamiliar conditions.
ZONE's power would diminish. Flow would be outright unachievable.
No sane person would sign up for a guaranteed loss.
That was why the current overseas entries were mostly young racers—fresh out of their Classic year or just finishing it.
They were here to gain experience, nothing more.
Kitasan Black had hoped to see some genuine international powerhouses, but it seemed even Venus Paques wasn't interested in showing up in this world. How boring. Might as well wrap this race up quickly.
Besides, she hated this weather.
She'd just gotten her racing outfit clean—and now it was going to get filthy all over again!
...
"Fan favorite number one, Kitasan Black, shows absolutely no sign of tension! Is this the composure of the strongest?"
Standing before the starting gate, Orfevre heard the commentator's words. Her fist clenched involuntarily, swinging toward the innocent gate.
But just before her punch connected, Gentildonna appeared in front of her and caught her fist.
"Orfevre, do you want to get disqualified for a rules violation before the race even starts?!"
"…"
Orfevre silently withdrew her hand.
She wanted to say, like she always used to, that she didn't care about winning or losing. But right now, she couldn't bring herself to say it.
Before, she hadn't cared about results because she knew she was the strongest.
She'd lost races simply because she'd gotten bored—not because she'd actually been beaten.
But this time was different. She couldn't afford not to care.
Because now, she wanted to win.
Gentildonna was genuinely surprised to see Orfevre walk into the gate without a word of protest.
She really has changed.
So competitive. How adorable.
And if I win today, Orfevre—will you redirect that frustration toward me?
The thought excited her.
Off to the side, Kiwami watched Gentildonna's confident smile with a hint of pity in her eyes.
Donna, you haven't figured out the situation at all, have you?
She knew Donna had always been supremely self-assured, but she hadn't expected her to still be smiling right before racing that monster.
...
Get 20+ chapters ahead on - P.a.t.r.e.o.n "RoseWhisky"