Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters Chapter 20: Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters [20]

From the puzzled looks exchanged by the Satono sisters, Yasui Makoto knew they didn't quite understand his aning.

Smiling lightly without further explanation, he raised his binoculars again, intently focusing on his black-haired Uma Musu.

Front-running, stalking, mid-pack, and chasing—these four main strategies defined every race.

A front-runner would seize the lead imdiately and set the pace throughout.

Stalkers positioned themselves close behind leaders, relying on opponents to dictate rhythm before overtaking late.

Mid-pack runners settled further back, preserving stamina by drafting behind others before making their move on the final corner.

Chasers started near the rear, accelerating earlier than most, sotis beginning their sprint as early as the third corner, or even the mid-stage if particularly strong.

Beyond these, finer variations existed—such as bold front-runners, flexible stalkers, adaptive mid-pack runners, and aggressive chasers. Each had to be tailored to the Uma Musu's capabilities and race specifics.

Most trainers would broadly settle on an optimal style by their trainee's debut. Yasui, likewise, had identified Kitasan Black's best-suited styles:

Bold front-runner or front-runner.

Next was a flexible stalker, smoothly shifting between front-running and stalking as needed.

This conclusion drew not only from his studies and reflections but also from the lessons passed down from his father.

The sa logic applied to tactical planning.

Since a debut race involved less pressure, it was the ideal mont to explore potential. Training alone couldn't replace the experience gained from real competition; such insights were invaluable.

Future races would hold more weight, leaving fewer opportunities to experint.

Furthermore, Yasui's father had taught him an essential psychological technique:

Uma Musu were fiercely competitive. In early races, they instinctively rushed forward. Yet, no competitor could remain forever in first place; tactical setbacks were inevitable.

Without experience, a newcor easily panicked when unexpectedly overtaken.

Therefore, positioning slightly behind in early career races offered valuable exposure to this pressure, gradually building ntal resilience.

Only veteran trainers understood this subtlety—Yasui's father himself had learned it from a senior.

Naturally, risks existed.

Starting further back increased the chance of being blocked intentionally or inadvertently during overtakes.

Inexperienced rookies often faltered in such critical monts, unable to accelerate and break through.

But Yasui held no such worries.

If he dared to use the debut race as practice for Kitasan, he naturally had absolute confidence.

This black-haired girl of his was a classic late-bloor type.

Her difficulty controlling her imnse strength was the very reason she hesitated to run at full power. Her body, still developing, subconsciously protected itself by avoiding maximum exertion.

Most trainers, facing this situation, would avoid pushing her fully.

Yasui, however, had devised a more refined approach:

Starting the sprint earlier, spreading her power and explosive force over a greater distance.

This thod avoided physical stress from sudden maximal output, steadily accelerating over a longer stretch—thus reducing the risk of being blocked.

This tactic was typically used only by seasoned trainers and experienced Uma Musu. It required many prerequisites, but Kitasan Black had already grasped the most critical one—

Rhythm.

Through a month of dedicated training, this black-haired girl had honed an innate sense of rhythm into her running style, composing a silent lody with every step:

Prelude, verse, refrain, interlude, crescendo, coda.

Of course, at her current level, the piece wasn't yet perfectly perford.

But for this debut stage, it was enough.

Reflecting on this comprehensive strategy, Yasui kept his gaze firmly locked through the binoculars. The mont he saw the sign marking the third corner flash by—and Kitasan Black subtly lower her posture in practiced familiarity—he felt the corner of his lips lift slightly.

Interlude over—it's ti for the crescendo.

Let everyone see clearly now, Kita-chan.

Show them what an extraordinary Uma Musu you really are.

As the race neared its climax, the comntator's voice rose in pitch and excitent:

"Only 500 ters to go! Mikki Joy has taken the lead!"

"As expected of the crowd favorite!"

"Cosmo Hyena, unfortunately, lost ground midway and fell behind slightly—still close though, trailing Mikki Joy by just half a length!"

"Eden runs right alongside her, both desperately chasing Mikki Joy!"

"These three are clearly ahead of the pack—the next competitor trails by at least three lengths!"

"Only 400 ters left—it seems victory will co down to these three!"

A single "length" was race terminology specifically referencing the Three Goddesses statue's arm span—approximately 2.5 ters. A half-length, thus, was just over a ter. The second and third runners remained closely positioned, seemingly within reach of overtaking with one strong push.

Yet the distance from fourth onward felt vast.

Those seven-plus ters appeared an insurmountable gulf, all but eliminating chances for trailing runners.

Spectators burst into the loudest cheers yet, and the comntator shouted excitedly:

"They've reached the final straight directly before the stands! Still, the leading three are battling fiercely, while behind—"

Suddenly, the announcer paused, then erupted into incredulous excitent:

"Kitasan Black!"

"Kitasan Black is charging forward!"

"Just 300 ters to go—but—but!"

"Kitasan Black is catching up rapidly!"

"200 ters!"

"She overtakes Cosmo Hyena and Eden!"

"She's now closing in on Mikki Joy—"

"And passes Mikki Joy!"

"Kitasan Black is now in front!"

"She's completed the turnaround!"

"Currently leading—Kitasan Black!"

"Can Mikki Joy reclaim the lead?!"

"100 ters left!"

"Mikki Joy is desperately accelerating—desperately trying to regain her position!"

"But—!"

"Kitasan Black is still holding strong!"

"Mikki Joy's pace seems to falter!"

"But Kitasan Black continues sprinting!"

"After 1700 ters, she's still accelerating!"

"50 ters left!"

"Finish line!"

"One-and-a-half lengths ahead!"

"From behind to first place!"

"A spectacular coback!"

"Winning her debut race by a full length-and-a-half!"

"Magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!"

"A truly thrilling reversal!"

"Let's congratulate Kitasan Black!"

For a brief instant, upon realizing Kitasan Black's surge forward, the audience's cheers faltered slightly—not due to lack of excitent, but from sheer astonishnt.

Then, exploding into even louder cheers, the stadium erupted in frenzied applause.

Yet, soon afterward, the cheers briefly dipped again, replaced by bursts of friendly laughter ringing warmly through Tokyo Racecourse.

Because after crossing the finish line and continuing her enthusiastic sprint nearly a hundred ters further, the victorious black-haired girl spectacularly tripped, tumbling to the ground in an exuberant faceplant.