Yasui Makoto had only muttered an offhand complaint, but the gloomy-looking Manhattan Cafe quietly replied:
"You're right, Yasui-san. She's always been like this. She hasn't changed even after retirent… no, rather, since retirent, her condition has only worsened."
Hearing Manhattan Cafe describe her friend's crazed behavior as a "condition," Yasui let out a small laugh.
Though, co to think of it, Tachyon's earlier sudden frenzy was pretty startling—maybe she really did need a stronger dose of sothing.
"But there's no need to worry; she'll calm down soon enough…"
Taking a sip of her coffee, Manhattan Cafe narrowed her golden eyes, sweeping them across the track:
"It's a sudden change nobody expected. The other runners haven't even processed it yet, so…"
"The pace of the race from here on will probably settle down considerably…"
Yasui Makoto was slightly startled, imdiately regaining his focus and staring intently at the track.
Just as Manhattan Cafe had said, the Uma Musu lineup had indeed "settled down."
But not in terms of speed.
Like a fierce black wind, at the very front, Kitasan Black was still racing alone.
Her short black hair and long ponytail whipped wildly in the wind, pulled into two black banners, snapping sharply with each movent.
Her figure was light yet powerfully graceful, and through her fierce rhythm, you could faintly see every muscle ripple smoothly across her body.
Each step landed firm and powerful, her alternating feet leaving lingering afterimages on the track, creating the subtle illusion of rging seamlessly with the ground.
Right now, she was racing through the initial straight, directly in front of the audience stands. The booming sounds of her hooves pounded briefly into the air before quickly vanishing.
Only after her ca her persistent pursuers.
It was the pack of fourteen behind her that had truly "settled."
Even in their brief passing in front of the stands, one could see the closest few Uma Musu had tense and serious expressions, foreheads covered in fine beads of sweat, eyes filled with stubbornness and unwillingness.
Yet at the sa ti, a subtle hesitance could be felt radiating from them.
Nakayama Racecourse's 2200-ter track had a relatively long straight after the gate—400 ters to the first corner, and even counting just to the curve, it was more than 300 ters.
With the speed the runners had right now, passing this 300-odd ters would take roughly eighteen seconds, maybe nineteen seconds at most.
Seeing the pack already halfway toward the first curve, with no one making a move behind Kitasan Black, it could only an these Uma Musu were still hesitating.
This hesitation ant opportunity for Kitasan Black.
"As expected, it's settled down," Yasui Makoto quickly judged, nodding in satisfaction. "If no one tries closing in by the corner, Kita-chan's advantage will be solidified."
Beside him, Manhattan Cafe nodded slowly as well.
"A great escape… It really is rare. It's only natural to hesitate."
Quietly sharing her view, she stared thoughtfully at Kitasan Black's figure as she entered the curve, carefully observing the girl's angle of lean, stride length, arm movents, and breathing rhythm, before murmuring curiously:
"Sohow, Kitasan Black's running style… feels oddly familiar?"
"So you noticed it too…?" Abruptly, Agnes Tachyon—who'd seed half-crazed a mont ago—suddenly chid in.
She had returned to normal now, just as Manhattan Cafe had predicted. Like her friend, she rubbed her chin, eyes narrowed sharply as she gazed at Kitasan Black.
"Yes, I feel like I've seen it before from soone… Who was it again…"
Manhattan Cafe furrowed her brows, rapidly muttering under her breath:
"Ines Fujin-senpai? No, her starts weren't quite this explosive…
"Mihono Bourbon-senpai… her pace wasn't as steady as this either.
"Smart Falcon… no, she mainly raced dirt…
"So…"
"No need to keep guessing, I'll just give you the answer," Agnes Tachyon swiftly interrupted. "Silence Suzuka-senpai."
"I asked Daiwa previously. During training camp, Silence Suzuka-senpai gave Kitasan-san a lot of guidance, along with Rice Shower-senpai."
"Ah, so it's Suzuka-senpai…" Manhattan Cafe's eyes flashed with understanding, though she soon frowned again. "It is similar, but…"
"But it's not exactly the sa." Again, Tachyon cut in, eyes gleaming with renewed frenzy, though now tempered with thoughtfulness. "Suzuka-senpai's style is a hyper-speed big escape. Kitasan Black isn't quite at that level of speed yet."
"To gain such a huge lead—aside from the explosive burst out of the gate—none of her opponents expected this… well, actually, nobody expected her to attempt a big escape at all."
"If we really must pinpoint whose running style this resembles more, I think…"
She paused briefly, not bothering to build suspense, her voice taking on an increasingly feverish intensity:
"Sakura Bakushin O-senpai."
"It resembles her."
"It resembles her far too much."
"Her speed hasn't reached its maximum yet, but this astonishing strength… it's exactly like Sakura Bakushin O-senpai!"
Her voice rose higher, excitent crackling:
"Speed, stamina, power… setting aside everything else, these are the absolute basics. Our true limit is when speed, stamina, and power all reach their peak simultaneously!"
"I've always known Kitasan Black's power was extraordinarily strong, and her stamina exceptionally high. All she lacked was speed—just speed!"
"All she needed was to push that speed to its absolute limit by any ans possible!"
"I didn't think that little brat could manage it. But to think, to think…"
"Kukuku… this truly was… completely beyond expectation! Kukuku!"
Suddenly throwing her arms upward, the excessively long sleeves theatrically traced arcs through the air. Tachyon began laughing strangely again, drawing curious glances from people nearby. Midway through her exaggerated gesture, she froze.
After a short pause:
"…Ahem, the weather's quite hot, Yasui-kun. You must be thirsty. I have so black tea here—would you like a sip?"
In an oddly similar movent, her sleeves flipped, and a drink magically appeared in her hand.
Holding the beverage with an innocent smile, Tachyon gazed sweetly at Yasui.
…So you definitely put so mory-wiping drug into that tea, right?
And that "little brat" you ntioned just now was definitely referring to , wasn't it?
After hearing that, do you honestly think I'd drink it?
Even though he'd turned his focus entirely back to the race, Yasui Makoto found himself unable to ignore Tachyon's absurd remarks. He shot the Uma Musu a grumpy glare.
But suspicious tea or being called a little brat wasn't actually what bothered him.
What genuinely grabbed his attention was Tachyon's earlier analysis.
Indeed, speed wasn't Kitasan Black's forte. Even after multiple official races since her debut, it still wasn't.
You could compare strengths vertically against senpais, but the critical point in the Twinkle Series was horizontal comparison among peers.
Within her generation, several Uma Musu could surpass Kitasan Black's speed, and among senior horses, even more.
But in terms of power and stamina, it was the exact opposite.
Whether comparing against her peers or against senpais, Kitasan Black's power and stamina could unquestionably be considered top-tier.
From the very beginning of coaching Kitasan Black, Yasui Makoto had clearly understood his current strategy:
Do everything possible to stretch Kitasan Black's strengths even further, while compensating as much as possible for her supposed weakness of "slow speed."
Day after day of training, race after race, this strategy hadn't yet reached perfection.
But even though it hadn't fully matured, right now, at this very mont, Kitasan Black had reached the absolute limit among every competitor in this race.
Perhaps this was precisely the reason behind Agnes Tachyon's earlier—and current—madness.
---
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