Chapter 438: 550

Kuroha spoke at length with Brave about her opinion of Suave.

Although Brave was only the student council vice president at French Tracen Academy, her views largely represented the position of the French racing association as a whole.

"So, it would be best to wait another two years."

Brave concluded with a smile. After hesitating briefly, however, she added, "Still, if the two of you want to do anything during that time, you'll have my full support."

She even winked playfully at Kuroha after saying that.

"..."

Several dark lines appeared across Kuroha's forehead.

He glanced toward the small group in the distance, who were still gathered together and happily plotting something. Shaking his head, he said nothing more. Instead, he picked up his empty beer can and tossed it into the trash.

The following day.

Naturally, the scheme Suave had concocted with Godolphin Barb and the others had failed.

Last night had been Teio's Triple Crown victory party, after all.

Moreover, once the party ended, McQueen dragged Suave into her room and locked the door behind them.

The reckless conspiracy fell apart before it could even begin.

Tokyo.

At Chasing Light's training grounds, which were currently undergoing maintenance, two beautiful figures walked side by side across the turf.

"Come on, McQueen! Why did you do that? I felt like I had a really good chance last night!"

The tanned girl clutched her head in despair.

McQueen shook her head and sighed helplessly. "Even if I hadn't stopped you, don't you think your lack of ability might still have been a problem?"

Suave froze. "But didn't Ardan and the others say I had a chance?"

"You might have a chance in another week, but Teio was never going to let you have one these past few days."

McQueen gave her a sidelong look.

"Didn't you notice that everyone except Teio was driven out last night?"

Suave gradually pieced everything together. She struck one fist against her palm in realization.

"I understand! Whoever wins a race gets to go in alone!"

After saying that, hesitation appeared on her face.

"McQueen, the rules at Chasing Light are so strange..."

Still, it was not entirely incomprehensible.

After all, as far as Suave knew, every retired horse girl at Chasing Light had already married that trainer.

There was nothing unusual about a husband and his wives having a little fun together.

"I'm so jealous!"

Suave raised her head and sighed dramatically.

McQueen was rendered speechless.

"I brought you here to help you adjust to the tracks of the Far East, not to gossip with me. Take this seriously."

"Hm?"

Suave blinked, then casually waved her hand.

"None of that matters. I can't beat you anyway."

Before McQueen could furrow her brow in anger, Suave stomped hard against the firm turf beneath her feet.

"Besides, if Generous had been a horse girl from the Far East, she probably could have beaten me on a track like this."

The difference was far more shocking than she had expected.

Suave had read plenty of negative comments online from European racers who had traveled to compete in the Far East.

However, only after stepping onto the track herself could she truly comprehend how jarring that difference was.

"How is this any different from running on concrete?"

Suave directed that profound question at McQueen.

McQueen froze, then uncertainly pressed her foot against the ground.

"That's an exaggeration... It should be a little softer than concrete, shouldn't it?"

Suave bounced twice before patting the ground with her hand, producing several dull thumps.

"You're right. It's just a tiny bit softer."

"Now I finally understand why so many European seniors failed miserably when they came here. The entire sensation underfoot is wrong. Running feels awkward from head to toe. You'd have to thank your lucky stars if you could perform at even eighty percent of your normal ability."

Compared with Europe's soft, damp turf, the tracks of the Far East were far harder.

The feedback beneath her feet was completely different, forcing her to readjust even the rhythm with which she applied power.

On top of that, she needed to protect herself from injury.

These tracks were simply too fast.

If a European racer used her usual running style on one of these high-speed tracks without exercising restraint or making the necessary adjustments, she could easily fishtail or tangle her legs.

At worst, she might suffer a fracture in her foot and be forced into immediate retirement.

"I don't know how the other European horse girls handle it."

McQueen folded her arms and continued softly.

"I was worried you might have problems, so I deliberately brought you here early to help you adjust. We couldn't wait until the official training sessions began and then have you frantically searching for the right feeling."

McQueen had been born and raised in the Far East. These high-speed tracks were naturally her home turf.

Competing on grass like this would only increase her advantage.

"Although I still don't think it'll make much difference... Fine, fine. I understand!"

Suave grumbled with a gloomy expression, but when McQueen looked at her again, she quickly nodded.

She rotated her ankles and sighed.

"Let's hurry up and start, then. The sooner I adjust, the sooner I can go have fun with Trainer Rainstorm."

...

Time passed in the blink of an eye.

Tokyo Racecourse.

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHH!"

"McQueen!"

"Invincible!"

"Aurora of the Heavens!"

"Supreme Commander! Strongest! Absolutely unstoppable!"

Deafening cheers surged into the racecourse like a roaring tide.

The results displayed clearly across the enormous screen bore witness to the outcome of this international G1 race.

First Place: McQueen!

Second Place: Suave Dancer, four lengths behind!

Third Place: Golden Pheasant, four and a half lengths behind!

At the finish line, the purple-haired figure in white remained standing perfectly straight.

Hum...

As the race ended, the world surrounding her abruptly dissolved into streams of dazzling light.

All that remained were the horrified, disbelieving faces of the horse girls behind her, many of whom had collapsed to their knees and were gasping for breath.

"...I told you... it wouldn't... hah... make any difference..."

Drenched in sweat, Suave braced her hands against her knees and struggled to catch her breath as she complained.

Only after acknowledging the spectators' support did McQueen turn back and extend a hand to her.

"Why do you seem so much weaker than you were last month?"

Although Suave's pressure had once again forced McQueen to activate her [World], she had never needed to use her full strength.

It felt as though she had only exerted eighty or ninety percent of her power before her rival from the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe collapsed.

"What else did you expect?"

Suave immediately rolled her eyes.

"I already told you I couldn't perform properly here."

Although she had spent the past month urgently adjusting to the high-speed tracks of the Far East, she was inevitably still below her best.

McQueen, meanwhile, had returned to her home turf, where her engine could operate at one hundred and twenty percent.

With one side weakened and the other strengthened, the difference between them had become painfully obvious.

This race had been the exclusive stage of the girl in white standing before her.

Suave had barely managed to serve as her supporting dancer.

Aside from Suave, the only competitor who could even marginally keep pace with them was Golden Pheasant, the representative from the United States.

Like Generous, she had perfected the second stage of [Domain] and barely opened a narrow crack in the gateway to [World].

That was the only reason she had been qualified to follow behind the two fully realized [Worlds].

Unlike the other competitors, she had not fallen three enormous gaps behind without even understanding what had happened.

Suave pulled her arm away from McQueen and steadied herself.

She raised her head and glanced at the enormous screen.

The words "four lengths" were still flashing there.

After only one look, she turned away and gestured toward the stands with both hands, directing McQueen's attention toward them.

The grandstands on every side had already transformed into a surging ocean of purple and white.

Support flags and glow sticks waved together.

A wind arose from nowhere, gathering the voices of thousands into a crashing wave.

The cheers of hundreds of thousands converged into a raging tide. Together with the wind, they made even the turf beneath their feet tremble faintly.

"Whew..."

Suave wiped the sweat from her forehead and suddenly smiled.

"That race Central holds around New Year's next month, I think I'll come watch it."

She frowned in thought, then tapped her fist against her palm.

"The Arima Kinen, right?"

McQueen turned toward her and nodded gently.

"Yes, the Arima Kinen."

"Once the Arima Kinen is over..."

Suave shifted her gaze from the stands back to McQueen's face and smiled teasingly.

"Would that make you the greatest horse girl in Central's history?"

"..."

McQueen glanced at her.

The question was so direct that almost anyone else would have modestly brushed it aside.

McQueen did not.

It was not arrogance. She simply possessed a clear and accurate understanding of her own accomplishments.

An undefeated Triple Crown.

Thirteen consecutive victories throughout her career.

Twelve G1 crowns.

On top of that, she carried the prestige of a Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe champion.

She had long since surpassed Rudolf, the Emperor of her era, and ascended to the pinnacle of Central.

"Perhaps."

McQueen spoke softly.

A moment later, however, the image of a lively, petite figure suddenly appeared in her mind.

She smiled at Suave.

"But who can say what the future holds? Someone might break my records as early as next year. After all, the title of strongest is never set in stone."

"How could that be possible?"

Suave shook her head.

A world-class horse girl who had entered [World] might appear once across ten generations if they were fortunate.

The fact that both Suave and McQueen had emerged within the same generation was already a miracle among miracles.

How could another one possibly appear in the very next generation?

That would put three [Worlds] on the same stage...

At that thought, Suave abruptly shuddered.

Wait a minute!

Teio, the horse girl who won the Kikuka Sho at the beginning of the month, seemed to have vaguely entered [World] too.

Suave fell silent for a moment, then shook her head and pushed the thought aside.

She smiled at McQueen.

"Then I'll look forward to it. I'll wait to see the moment you stand alone at the summit of your country!"

The cheers continued thundering in their ears.

McQueen remained silent for a moment before slowly closing her eyes.

The wind swept through her purple hair and gently lifted the hem of her white outfit.

When she opened her eyes again, her purple gaze held nothing but a fearsome, razor-sharp determination.

"Yes!"