It was the precise moment a tremor ran through the entire world. The Breeders' Cup Classic—the United States' definitive battle for dirt supremacy. To call this specific running the "World's Greatest Dirt Decider" would be no exaggeration. For America, the home of dirt racing, national prestige was on the line. Yet, the one who conquered it—the one who claimed dominion over the land of liberty—was the Tyrant of Japan, fresh from conquering the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe: Mejiro Rampage.
She was the undefeated horse girl who had just become the first Japanese winner of the Arc, hammering out a world record despite the worst track conditions in the race's history. And now, she had arrived in America.
To intercept such a monster, the US had fielded its finest members. However, there were other Japanese horse girls who had crossed the ocean to forge themselves in these fires: Lady Saber and Amazing Dyna. They had come to America with a singular purpose: to defeat Rampage. Having already secured G1 victories during their excursion, they too entered the BC Classic with determination.
Despite the lingering unease in the air, the race was run, and the one who seized the crown was—
"The Breeders' Cup Classic! The battle to decide the world's strongest has been utterly dominated by the Japanese Tyrant!! MEJIRO RAMPAAAAGE!!! Following her conquest of the Arc, she has now seized the title of Dirt Champion! And in second place—what is this?! It's a dead heat between Lady Saber and Amazing Dyna!! Armed Links takes fourth, and A.P. Indy finishes in fifth!"
The Tyrant, Mejiro Rampage.
Second place: a tie between Lady Saber and Amazing Dyna.
Fourth place: New Zealand's Armed Links.
And the highest-placing American horse girl was A.P. Indy, languishing in fifth.
It was a result no one had predicted. It was, undeniably, the moment of total defeat for the American dirt racing world. The home of the sport had lost to horse girls from Japan—a country where dirt racing was supposed to be a secondary concern. It was an unbelievable phenomenon, but faced with the reality, there was nothing to do but admit complete defeat and swallow the humiliation.
Why did they have to admit it? Well...
"Congratulations, Rampage!! Let me offer you my blessings! Clearing my schedule was well worth the trouble!"
"Ah, well, thanks I gu—... Oi, give it a rest already! Mr. President, you're way too free-spirited!"
"Hahaha!! No one can beat me when it comes to footwork and getting the job done fast!"
"Please direct that energy toward your official duties!!"
Incredibly, the President of the United States was watching the race privately with his family. He had been doing whatever he pleased, pestering his own son and daughter for autographs, until a heartbroken fan shouted out from the crowd.
"Mr. President, how can you be laughing?! Our horse girls lost! We were completely defeated!!"
The fan screamed that they couldn't understand how he could celebrate a foreign victory rather than mourn their own country's loss. To this, the President responded with majestic poise:
"There are no absolutes in competition. There are only winners and losers, decided by the rules. She committed no foul; she competed openly and seized victory with her own hands. How could I do anything but praise that? Furthermore, we should be delighted! We have become challengers once more. Now it is our turn to reclaim the summit with our own hands. Isn't that right, everyone? Do you not wish to aim for the stars shining far above your heads? Do you not want to stand there and raise your own voice in victory? I know I do! That is why we must accept this momentary defeat with sincerity. And next time—let me celebrate your victory!!"
The one who understood the weight of this result best, and the one most frustrated by it, was the President himself. But because he understood that defeat is not solely a negative thing, he accepted it immediately. He asked the crowd then and there: Don't you want to challenge that record? Don't you want to stand where she stands?
His speech, designed to stimulate the heart and stoke the fires of competitive spirit, sent a wave of excitement through A.P. Indy and the other defeated racers. They swore an oath: next time, they would win. They would bring glory back to America.
...
"He wrapped that up pretty nicely, but I still think it's a problem for a world leader to be this light on his feet. What are your thoughts on that?"
"Given our long history, I think it's fine to have at least one President like this," a bystander noted.
"Practically speaking, his approval rating is over 80%, so..."
"HAHAHA... Now then, Mejiro Rampage. Or perhaps I should call you the Supreme King who has unified the world?"
"Please stick to 'Tyrant.' If you call me 'Supreme King' [Haoh], I feel like someone from the future is going to yell at me."
"I don't quite understand, but very well. There is someone I insist you meet."
For the time being, it was decided they would meet during the break before the winning live performance. But who on earth did the President want her to meet? Is this going to turn into another outrageous situation? Rampage's eyes went slightly blank with resignation. Well, I've come this far. Might as well see it through to the end, she thought, half-desperate.
"I think I'll step away for this. I'll deal with the reporters," the President's aide suggested.
"In that case, I'll help you," another offered.
"If the President keeps acting like this, won't the American media have a nervous breakdown?"
"Let them. They have a tendency to go overboard anyway."
Saying this, the President and 'Sue-chan' walked off. A defining trait of this President was his constant movement; he was a 'hands-on' leader who wasn't satisfied unless he saw things with his own eyes. Because this approach often led to tangible results, his approval ratings remained astronomically high. Apparently, the only complaints from the opposition were that he "didn't act like a President."
With that chaos behind her, Rampage knocked on the door. Hearing a voice say "Enter," she stepped inside—and found two horse girls waiting.
"I've been waiting. I very much wanted to speak with you."
One was a tall horse girl with a lustrous chestnut coat and a physique so perfect it would make anyone envious. Behind her glasses, she cast a somewhat enchanting gaze.
Sitting next to her, arm draped over the back of a chair, sighing as if to say she was tired of waiting, was... a black horse girl. Her eyes and expression were sharp, radiating an aura of pure menace. You could tell just by looking at her that she had a bad attitude.
"Yo. You showed us somethin' interestin' today. To think our horse girls lost! Hah! Serves 'em right! I ain't seen something this funny in ages!"
"Hey. Choose your words a little more carefully. You understand how they feel."
"Sorry, but I don't choose my words, Chief. I am who I am. I'll tolerate 'em, but I don't understand 'em. Trash that can't accept reality."
"Good grief... My apologies for summing you here so abruptly."
"N-No, it's fine..."
Rampage had already deduced who these two were. One, because of her chestnut hair. The other, because of her dark bay coat. Even Rampage, whose knowledge of racing history was average at best, knew their names. They were horse girls who had inherited the souls of famous horses that had roared across history, carving their names deep into the annals of time.
The Second Coming of Big Red: The Great Chestnut, Secretariat.
Inheriting the nickname of the original "Big Red," Man o' War, she is the leading candidate for the strongest horse in American history, often spoken of in the same breath as her predecessor. Even on a global scale, her name appears at the very top of the "strongest ever" rankings. Many call her existence a miracle from the heavens. Famous for her unique "Isokinetic Stride," she pulled off the absurd feat of winning the Belmont Stakes by 31 lengths*, shattering the world record by over two seconds with a time of 2:24.
The Horse Who Bit at Fate: Sunday Silence.
A Great Sire whose bloodline is now so pervasive in Japanese racing that it is rarer to find a horse without it. However, his beginnings were painted in extreme hardship. He was not considered excellent in terms of pedigree, his temperament was poor, and his evaluation was low. He was forced to endure a harsh fate, including a van accident where he hovered between life and death.
Yet, in racing, he clashed with his antithesis—Easy Goer, the horse said to be Secretariat's successor—and snatched big titles. Later, he was sent to Japan for stud life. At the time, people said the ignorant Japanese had been sold a "dud horse," but his offspring ran so well they blew all those criticisms away. A famous horse who rewrote Japanese racing to the point that breeders now struggle with how to dilute his blood.
(Wait... then what the heck is Cafe's 'friend'? What, is that a legit Sunday Silence Uma-Soul?)
If Sunday Silence exists here as a horse girl, then who—or what—is Manhattan Cafe's "friend"? Cafe is a Sunday Silence offspring, and she even played the role of Sunday Silence in a drama once. So, she has the deepest connection... but maybe it's better not to think too much about it.
"What is the matter? Are you tired, after all?"
"Ah... uh, no. It's just... I was thinking that fate really is a bastard."
"You said it. Fate can go die in a ditch for all I care. Hah, looks like we might get along after all. Hmm?"
Sunday Silence nonchalantly wrapped an arm around Rampage's shoulders. Well, if told they shared similarities, Rampage supposed there were many... but the intensity of Sunday's gaze—her sheer presence—was vicious. If this was the temperament that revolutionized Japan, it made a strange sort of sense.
"U-Um, you said you had something to discuss with me..."
"Oh, just simple curiosity. I wanted to talk. To an existence like you."
"I just tagged along 'cause it looked interesting."
"R-Right..."
After that, she ended up having a casual chat with Secretariat. Rampage had braced herself for a heavy conversation, but the legend turned out to be approachable and fun to talk to. Even Sunday Silence, who threw in snarky interruptions, just seemed to have a rough temper; once Rampage imagined she was talking to a guy, it didn't bother her much. Was she getting used to this?
"My trainer thought you possessed the 'Isokinetic Stride,' and that is how this started—he brought me footage of you. But that running style is yours alone. Puff out your chest and be proud. You stood at the peak of the world with a power that is unique and original to you."
"Is that so... Thank you very much. I was glad to speak with you too, and you as well, Sunday-san."
"Yes, I enjoyed it as well."
"Oi, oi, oi. Why are you trying to wrap this up?"
"Eh?"
"I'm going to Japan next year. I'll be getting real friendly with you from now on, so you better be grateful. Also, invite me onto your stream. That's an order."
"Wha—"
It was the moment Mejiro Rampage's internal server crashed.
(Note: When Secretariat crossed the finish line, the 2nd place horse, Twice a Prince, and the others were still around the remaining 100-meter mark.)
And that brings us to Secretariat and Sunday Silence.
Yeah, I hesitated, you know? But if we base this on historical fact, they are very much alive at this time, so I felt I couldn't not include them.
It's probably like this: When a Uma-Soul enters the Uma Musume world, it splits in two. One goes to Cafe, and the other is born as a horse girl. Probably. Surely. Maybe.
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