When El Condor Pasa mentioned Almond Eye, it was not only the Umamusume on the course who took notice. The spectators in the stands noticed her as well, and soon they began asking about her and offering their own comments.
In one corner of the stands, a group of lower-year Umamusume had gathered together, their eyes sparkling as they discussed her.
One small Umamusume asked, curiosity written all over her face, "Almond Eye? Which one is she? The senior praised her so much just now that I didn't even catch who they meant."
Beside her, a companion with a high ponytail craned her neck as far as she could to look while explaining, "She's the one running in the middle, around... seventh or eighth, I think."
"Oh, oh, she's in eighth now. That's her."
"I saw her physical test results this morning, and they were really good. I didn't expect her to be this outstanding in a race too."
The small Umamusume suddenly understood, her eyes full of admiration. "Wow, she's amazing. I want to be like her someday too."
Not far away, several upper-year Umamusume were discussing her as well.
A senior wearing a hat pushed up the brim, her gaze appraising. "This Almond Eye really does have something. She was a little slow out of the gate, but she adjusted very quickly. Being able to find her rhythm this fast in a race like this shows real potential."
The senior beside her, dressed in a refined tracksuit, nodded slightly and added, "And according to El Condor Pasa-senpai, she also knows how to observe the situation and choose her position. That kind of sharpness on the course isn't something an ordinary newcomer has."
In the front row of the spectator stands, several people who looked like trainers were also exchanging opinions.
A slightly plump trainer rubbed his chin and said to the colleague beside him, "This Almond Eye really has potential. Judging from her current performance, her pacing and positioning are both good. Most importantly, her head is clear, and she knows how to make use of her strengths without exposing her weaknesses on the course."
Another trainer with a sturdy build kept his eyes fixed on Almond Eye, his gaze full of appreciation. "Exactly. Her sense of rhythm is good too. If she receives systematic training, her future will be limitless."
Similar comments and praise could be heard around Kitasan Black and Yasui Makoto as well. Kitasan Black was very happy for Almond Eye, but Makoto quickly furrowed his brows, feeling somewhat helpless.
He knew very well that as an Umamusume, El Condor Pasa was outstanding. One could even say that throughout all of racing history, there were not many who surpassed her.
But as a commentator, she... like Grass Wonder, had indeed only come in as a guest, and was not especially professional.
Because the Twinkle Series carried an idol-like element, race commentary needed to stir up the atmosphere of the entire venue, and it would not deliberately avoid the participating runners.
Even so, commentary would absolutely not deliberately emphasize how outstanding one participant was, or how poorly another was performing. The same went for analysis, so live commentary and analytical remarks were generally neutral and unbiased.
After all, no matter how focused they were, some evaluations would inevitably reach the participants' ears. If the commentary showed a clear preference, it would inevitably affect their performance.
Just like now. That praise just now had certainly been well-intentioned, but it would definitely make the other examinees take notice of Almond Eye, consciously or unconsciously putting pressure on her and targeting her.
And he had already spotted that happening within the field.
Several participants who had originally been near Almond Eye now had something unusual in their eyes. They began gradually moving closer to her, their steps carrying a certain probing pressure.
But after that helplessness, he also felt a faint sense of anticipation.
This kind of attention, pressure, and targeting would absolutely not be a good thing for most Umamusume. It would interfere with their planned tactics and limit their performance on the spot.
But Almond Eye just so happened to be an Umamusume with a strong competitive spirit.
For someone like her, the thing she feared was not being targeted at all. A race like that would lack enjoyment and lower her fighting spirit instead.
On the contrary, the more someone targeted her...
The more fired up she got.
Yasui Makoto's anticipation was by no means baseless. It came from his observation and understanding of Almond Eye.
He knew very well that when it came to speed and final spurt ability, Almond Eye had displayed remarkable talent, faintly surpassing even her senior, Kitasan Black.
When Almond Eye sprinted at full strength during a partner run, every stride carried powerful explosiveness, and in a short time, she could even greatly shorten the distance between herself and Kitasan Black.
However, in terms of stamina, compared to the experienced Kitasan Black, Almond Eye was indeed somewhat inferior.
The longer a partner run or other training went on, the more obvious her stamina consumption became. Her breathing would gradually grow hurried, and the steadiness of her steps would also be affected to a certain extent.
Many times, even before the training had reached half of Kitasan Black's usual workload, Almond Eye already looked somewhat tired.
But Almond Eye's perseverance could more than make up for that.
No matter how exhausted she was, as long as Yasui Makoto did not say training was over, she would grit her teeth and keep going, never giving up.
And that perseverance came from her drive to never stop until she reached her goal.
Precisely because of that, Makoto firmly believed that the current situation on the course, in which Almond Eye was being targeted, might look like layers of pressure, but in truth, it would become powerful fuel driving her forward.
To Almond Eye, the pressure her opponents were applying, whether intentional or unintentional, was nothing more than a source of motivation that pushed her to break through herself and create a miracle.
He could almost already foresee Almond Eye shining even more brightly under the stimulus of this external force, writing a brilliant chapter of her own on the course.
On the track, Almond Eye was like a keen cheetah, gradually becoming alert to every change around her as she raced forward.
She sharply picked up on the strange behavior of the opponents around her.
In her perception, the runners who had originally been scattered across the course were now like a pack of wolves that had caught the scent of prey, gradually closing in around her, their steps carrying a clear sense of probing and pressure.
Sensing this, she turned her head slightly. Her gaze instantly sharpened like a burning torch, as if two beams of light could pierce through the air, examining each of the approaching figures one by one and sweeping quickly across their expressions and eyes.
Some eyes flashed with jealousy. Some carried traces of resentment and stubbornness. Those complex emotions were like clear signals, making her even more certain that she had become the one everyone had a target on.
In that split second, an irrepressible excitement surged violently from the depths of Almond Eye's heart like a rising tide.
That excitement seemed to have a life of its own, rapidly spreading through her entire body.
Everywhere it reached, every cell was activated, every nerve set alight.
Her breathing turned rapid and powerful. Each inhale seemed as if it would draw all the surrounding air into her lungs, and each exhale carried a faint, low growl.
At the same time, her heart pounded fiercely in her chest. That powerful rhythm seemed as though it would break through the confines of her ribs, sending out urgent, forceful thumps like the roar of war drums, playing an impassioned prelude to the counterattack she was about to begin.
Perfect timing!
With that low roar in her heart, the corners of her mouth lifted at some point, and her steps suddenly accelerated.
Like a rocket that had been ignited, Almond Eye sprinted forward with all her strength.
The rhythm that had originally been as steady as flowing clouds and running water instantly switched into a tight tempo like a violent storm.
Her shoe plates struck the turf fiercely, kicking up sprays of fine grass clippings, as if carving vivid marks of her headlong charge into the earth.
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