The Dubai World Cup Meeting, crowned by the Dubai World Cup—Rampage's race—closes with a flourish. All events are G1 or G2, hosted in a lavish hotel dwarfing even the Mejiro mansion in opulence.
"Dubai's unreal. Rich man's paradise, spot-on," Rampage muses.
A tax haven, Dubai's wealth fuels extravagance. The hotel boasts a turf-and-dirt course for Uma Musume, standard for a race invite but surreal to Rampage.
A strange feeling stirs—one she's felt since landing. Loneliness. Japan's her only racing ground, steeped in familiar culture, people, wind. Here, it's absent. Surrounded by foreign Uma Musume, her heart wavers. She lights a cigar.
"Lonely? Bit late for that. Lone, isolated, supreme—fine by me. I've lived that life. I'm tough. Plus, I'm not alone anymore," she declares, exhaling.
Reaffirmed, she spots Uma Musume on the course. "Fast," she notes, eyes sharpening. They're swift, with a strength unlike Diana or Saber. Those two could compete globally, but these racers prove the world's depth.
"Sitting still ain't my style," she mutters, dousing her cigar.
Grabbing her Shinzan iron gear, she tells Sue-chan, "Gonna run. Down at the course."
"Don't overdo it. I'll tell Eric," Sue-chan replies.
In the elevator, Rampage itches to race the world, like at the Japan Cup. Am I this belligerent? she wonders. No matter—she craves the run. At the course, eyes lock onto her.
"Well, damn, I'm famous," she smirks.
As a renowned streamer and Uma Musume, Rampage draws stares from event staff and racers.
"Japan's Tyrant, huh?" a voice says.
Rampage shrugs. Her name—meaning "to rampage"—and champion status make it inevitable. Turning, she sees a cool, blonde Uma Musume.
"Guess I'm called that. You are?" Rampage asks.
"Arc-en-ciel, from America," she replies.
The name rings a bell from Unbridled's talk—a versatile, heroic Uma Musume like Rampage, but taciturn, hard to read. Arc-en-ciel extends a hand.
"I won't lose," she says.
"Same here. Didn't come to lose," Rampage retorts, shaking her hand.
Her words are sparse but fiery, a quiet hot-blood. Rampage feels a spark of kinship when someone tackles her from behind.
"Hi, Japanese Tyrant!" a voice chirps.
"My nickname's Tyrant now? Gotta redo my coat," Rampage groans.
"What's that?" the voice laughs—in Japanese.
Turning, Rampage sees an Uma Musume with shark-fin hair, green-streaked black locks, and a shark-jaw necklace.
"Wanted to meet you! I'm Vanish Out—call me Bunny!" she beams.
"Rabbit, shark, or Uma Musume? Pick one," Rampage quips.
"Agreed," Arc-en-ciel adds.
"Bunny's a nickname, shark's a hobby. I watch your streams!" Bunny says.
A fan—maybe the "Shark" superchatter? Beside her, another Uma Musume glares sharply.
"Mejiro Rampage. I'm here to beat you," she declares.
"I'll win. That's my answer," Rampage fires back.
"We'll settle it on the track. I'm Hyperion, the one to beat you," she says, storming to the course.
Bunny waves, following. Friends or just Bunny being clingy? Both seem formidable.
"World's full of characters. Time to show 'em me," Rampage says.
Skipping Shinzan iron, she sprints. Let them think what they want—Rampage is already hyped for the race.
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