The wind died down.
The silver hair that had been fluttering in the breeze fell limply, framing a face drenched in sweat. The girl's chest heaved with ragged, painful breaths, each gasp a desperate struggle for air. Her legs, which had just been pounding against the dirt track, gave out. She collapsed, creating a small dark patch on the ground where her sweat and tears mingled with the dust.
Hyuuga Sakikawa approached, his hands in his pockets, his face a mask of indifference. He stopped a few feet away from her and looked down, his shadow falling over her.
She was so exhausted she couldn't even register his presence, her mind still lost in the haze of the run.
A flat, emotionless voice cut through the air.
"You keep running like that, and in three months, your legs will be completely shot. I've already booked you a bed in the orthopedics department."
The silver-haired girl flinched and slowly lifted her head.
She stared at him, her violet eyes, now bloodshot, blazing with a sudden fire. Before her stood a man. He was tall and thin, with a bored, lifeless expression on his face that made you wonder if he'd just lost a million dollars. His dark, listless eyes looked down at her as if she were a stone on the side of the road.
"What did you say?!" she gasped, her voice hoarse and broken.
He just stood there, his hands still in his pockets. "That clumsy running style of yours is supposedly the ultimate, most extreme technique," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "But all I see is a joke."
His words hit her like a physical blow. The fire in her eyes flickered.
"It's nothing but a cheap imitation," he continued, his voice calm and steady. "Anyone can flail their limbs around like that. But without the core strength to back it up, it's just a pathetic charade."
The girl's bravado crumbled. All the strength left her body.
Sakikawa's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her, then he tilted his head.
"So?"
That one word, delivered so casually, shattered her last defense.
All of her forced bravado, her stubborn pride, and the desperate act she put on—it all vanished in the face of his calm, piercing question.
As if on cue, Sakikawa pulled a document and a pen from his pocket and held them out.
It was a trainer's contract.
"Think you got a raw deal?" he asked. "With your method, even getting into the Twinkle Series is a long shot. Sign this, and I'll take you to the real race."
He saw the girl's shoulders tremble, her hands shaking as she stared at the contract. It was an impossibly heavy piece of paper.
But did she have another choice?
Her vision blurred with unshed tears. She looked at the contract, her mind a mess. Finally, she took the pen.
Her hand was trembling, her face pale. With a conscious effort, she gripped the pen, pressed the nib to the paper, and, stroke by stroke, wrote out her name.
The characters were neat and elegant, but each one seemed to carry a heavy burden.
Yorozuya Eiyuu.
Hero of the Masses. Sakikawa thought to himself. What kind of parents would give their kid a name like that? Still, the name carried the weight of expectation, a tragic drama that suited a perfect experimental subject...
The moment the last character was written, a wave of data flowed silently through Sakikawa's mind.
[Task 'Embark on the Journey' complete.]
[Penalty 'Irreversible Pelvic Osteoporosis' has been removed.]
[Reward Distribution: 'Eleven Dragons' tech module unlocked.]
Sakikawa let out a long, slow breath.
His pelvis was safe. He was safe.
He looked down at the paper, then back at the girl. "From today on, I'm your trainer," he said, snatching the contract from her hands. "Forget everything you were doing before. Starting tomorrow, your training plan is up to me."
Yorozuya Eiyuu's eyes widened, but she remained silent.
"Alright, that's it. Dismissed," Sakikawa said, waving his hand dismissively. "Go home, shower, and get some sleep. I don't want to see dark circles under your eyes tomorrow. I have a special gift for you."
He turned and walked away without another glance, leaving her to drag her exhausted body off the track.
Yorozuya Eiyuu was left alone, a solitary figure clutching her copy of the contract in the fading light, her shadow swallowed by the coming dusk.
As Sakikawa walked away, he spoke to the voice in his head.
"System, what the hell is 'Eleven Dragons'?"
[Eleven Dragons is the general term for the biological technology gene optimization sequence. It forcibly elevates all of a horse girl's latent potential to its theoretical limit through genetic editing.]
Sakikawa's footsteps faltered for a second.
A genuine, unsettling smile finally spread across his deadpan face, the corners of his mouth twisting into a strange arc.
"Genetic... editing?"
The next day.
"...Ah!"
A sharp cry escaped Yorozuya Eiyuu's lips as a jolt of pain shot through her waist.
"You can scream too? How touching," Sakikawa said without looking up. He was kneeling, his fingers pressing deep into the muscles of her lower back. This was the legendary "Hyuuga Style Finishing Move."
He applied pressure with his thumb, centering on her core and tracing the muscle chains down her back and legs. Her entire body was a roadmap of strain. He could pinpoint the fifteen degrees of misalignment in her posture, the result of a weak core trying to compensate for explosive power.
"Let me be clear," he said, his voice cold. "Your consciousness is telling you to run, but your body is screaming in pain. It's a needle-like agony."
A single tear rolled down her cheek. It was true.
"You're not running," he stated flatly. "You're breaking your own bones, bit by bit, for fun."
These words, though she couldn't fully comprehend them, resonated with the chronic pain that had become her constant companion. This was the first time she had a name for it.
"Now, listen carefully," Sakikawa's icy voice continued. "Oguri Cap's stride frequency can exceed 240 steps per minute at its peak. Yours is a mess. Your rhythm shifts between 215 and 225 steps per minute. Do you think that slight acceleration matters? Every change in rhythm is just putting more strain on your ankles and knees."
He pressed down again, and she winced. "You're not even a bad copy," he concluded. "You're just a paper tiger."
Finally, Sakikawa delivered the final verdict, his voice quiet but sharp enough to pierce her soul.
"You're aiming to be the vanguard."
And with that, the world went silent.
The wind stopped. Her heart stopped. She couldn't move.
Shock. Grievance. Shame. All the emotions she had suppressed came rushing to the surface. His every word was a brutal truth she had been running from.
Why is my training so hard? Why does my body keep getting hurt? Why is my dream so far away?
It was because... all this time, she had been running for herself, clinging to a dream that was hers and hers alone.
The light in her eyes dimmed.
She felt his hand on her leg. But now, it was warm.
-------
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