The next day.
Ten thousand ters above the ground, a private jet cut steadily through a sea of clouds.
Inside the cabin, the luxurious décor looked especially serene under soft lighting.
Kuroha sat alone in a wide leather recliner, a glass of champagne in his hand. He stared out the window at the rolling clouds below.
"So this is… what it feels like to be the Chairwoman day to day?"
Feeling that almost arbitrary freedom, Kuroha let a faint smile show.
"Being able to fly wherever you want, whenever you want, with every detail handled perfectly… yeah. This is pretty damn nice."
He couldn't help reflecting on what the captain had told him when he boarded—this aircraft would be on standby for him the entire ti, and it had top-level route priority.
It was hard not to feel sothing.
Without even noticing, "113"—the young trainer who used to worry about venues and budgets back at Kasamatsu Tracen Academy—
had climbed to a place like this.
"Co to think of it…" Kuroha took a sip of champagne, then muttered with a strange look on his face.
"At this point, I could probably say it right in front of that Board guy too—'Cheers, cheers,' 'Chasing Light trainers have unlimited power'—couldn't I?"
Thinking of that "Emperor" who always wore an imposing expression, yet occasionally got knocked down a peg around him, Kuroha couldn't help laughing.
…
A few hours later.
The plane landed smoothly on the tarmac at Hong Kong International Airport.
The cabin door opened. The mont Kuroha descended the steps, several security personnel in black suits moved in quickly to et him.
They escorted him into a black sedan that had clearly been waiting for a while.
It wasn't as over-the-top as Akikawa Yayoi's style, but it still gave Kuroha the surreal feeling of having wandered into so imperial entourage by mistake.
The motorcade left the airport and rged into the city's busy traffic.
And the instant Kuroha was gone—
Countless paparazzi and reporters who'd been lying in wait sprang into action. At the sa ti, informants from every major team relayed the news back to their respective camps.
After all, Chasing Light wasn't so unknown little overseas squad anymore.
Since Oguri Cap's two consecutive G1 wins in Europe, the na still wasn't exactly household-famous—but to the Uma Musu and teams competing here, it was already thunder in the ears.
Very quickly, one bombshell ssage detonated across Hong Kong's racing circles.
Chasing Light's head trainer—Kuroha—was back.
The man who'd personally forged that miraculous overseas back-to-back G1 run was finally taking command in Hong Kong, overseeing the last phase of preparations for that "ash-gray monster."
…
Hong Kong's training grounds.
The afternoon sun was lazy.
In the rest area, Super Creek sat on a bench with a book in her hands—sothing about childcare…
No, that one had already been put away. Right now, she was absorbed in Uma Musu Nutrition, reading with obvious interest.
On the recliner beside her, Oguri Cap lay sprawled with absolutely zero dignity. Her long ears drooped softly, and she looked like she was battling so kind of delicious food in her dreams.
They'd just finished lunch and were resting, eyes closed, conserving energy.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A set of footsteps ca from the entrance.
Oguri Cap, still half-asleep, had those drooping ears twitch like radar.
The next second—
Whoosh!
She snapped her head up. The hazy look in her eyes vanished instantly, replaced by pure clarity as she locked onto the entrance.
"Yo. Long ti no see, everyone."
With that warm greeting, Kuroha stepped into view.
He wore a simple trench coat, an elegant paper bag in hand, and that familiar, reassuring smile on his face.
"Trainer—!!"
Oguri Cap let out a delighted shout and launched forward like a cannonball.
Right as she lunged, Kuroha smiled, pulled a small, unknown object from the bag, and flicked it up casually.
"Oguri, catch."
"?"
Oguri Cap's eyes imdiately tracked the tiny thing as it drew a clean arc through the air.
So instinct made her open her mouth.
Crunch.
The mont it hit her tongue, the faint sweetness of carrot filled her mouth.
It was one of Kuroha's special carrot cookies—
the sa little treat he'd often used to reward her ever since she joined the team, whenever she trained earnestly.
"Mmh! So good!"
Oguri Cap's eyes curved into blissful crescents as she cupped her cheeks with both hands.
Any intimidation she usually carried as a top-tier Uma Musu was gone without a trace, leaving only pure, dopey satisfaction.
"Looks like you're in good spirits." Kuroha walked up to them, taking in Creek's gentle smile—and then Berno Light and Fumino, who'd co over the mont they realized he'd returned.
"Welco back, Trainer Kuroha!" Super Creek greeted him brightly.
Berno Light nodded quickly too. "Mr. Kuroha, you're back!"
The closer it got to the Hong Kong Mile, the more panicked she'd felt.
Even with Fumino here, this was an international G1. She'd been terrified Oguri Cap might not be able to win—she truly had no confidence.
But the mont she saw Kuroha back, the stone in her chest dropped away.
In front of this trainer—this man who brought miracles—victory was absolute.
"You finally decided to show up?"
Fumino stood there with her arms crossed, snapping at him with a scowl. "You dumped here for a whole month. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm your assistant trainer!"
"Uh… that might not be wrong, actually~"
Kuroha's face pulled into an oddly amused smile.
Given the position and authority he held at Central Tracen Academy—second only to Akikawa Yayoi—making Fumino, who'd only joined Central less than two years ago and wasn't even a veteran trainer yet, into his assistant trainer…
was probably not all that difficult.
"What do you an?" Fumino shot him a confused look.
"…Nothing." In the end, Kuroha didn't say it out loud.
He glanced at Oguri Cap, who was still completely focused on her cookie, then swept his gaze across everyone present. His tone gradually sharpened into sothing serious.
"You all worked hard."
"And now…"
He unfastened his trench coat, hung it on the nearby rack, and rolled up his sleeves.
"Let's finish this expedition—together—and put the most perfect final stroke on it."
(End of Chapter)
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