The commentary continued:
"No. 5, Oguri Cap, had a bad start! She's trailing the main pack!"
"Let's check the positions! Leading is still No. 3, the Southern Female Horse! No. 6, Fuji Road Dancer, remains in second! The most popular horse girl, No. 1, Fujimasa March, is still in third!"
"How's this possible?! Could the race maintain these positions all the way to the end?!"
At this moment, a voice of objection rose from Kitahara's side.
"Even though this announcer is good at stirring excitement," said Shibasaki, his own Uma Musume in third place didn't worry him at all. He smiled calmly, "Races change in an instant. Early positions don't mean much."
"With Fujimasa March's ability, she'll find an opportunity soon… no, she's already running in the opportunity."
Although worried about Oguri Cap's bad start, Kitahara remained calm.
Because for Oguri Cap, making up for a bad start and ultimately winning was completely normal—both in reality and in the game.
In the game, Kitahara had seen Oguri Cap mess up starts many times, then overtake to win. Experiencing the stress and relief so often had strengthened his trainer's heart.
And he knew Shibasaki was right: early positions didn't matter at all.
"Yes, you're right," Kitahara agreed. "In short-distance races like this, high speed generates strong centrifugal force. With many competitors, collisions are easy during turns."
"To avoid that, it's best to maintain some distance while running—not being dragged by the crowd. But keeping a clear mind during such intense competition really tests a horse girl's ability."
Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and his tone changed.
"Huh? She's in the front, but keeping a distance from others? Fujimasa March truly lives up to her reputation—a horse girl with excellent racing instinct."
Kitahara only praised Fujimasa March and didn't mention Shibasaki.
After many years working together, he knew his colleague's skills weren't exceptional. Fujimasa March running so well was mostly due to her own ability, not Shibasaki's training.
In his view, Shibasaki could at most manage routine training. Teaching detailed race tactics would be asking too much.
It wasn't that Kitahara underestimated his colleagues; most local trainers simply weren't that competent. If he hadn't brought his memories and techniques from another world, organizing all the details in advance, the results would have been similar.
Shibasaki admitted:
"You noticed, huh? Yes, for a genius like Fujimasa March, a trainer like me can only do so much." He was self-aware.
Then, he was surprised:
"Eh? Oguri Cap is also maintaining distance? Did you tell her?"
Kitahara had also noticed: at the back of the pack, Oguri Cap wasn't rushing to catch up. She was running right beside the second-to-last horse girl.
Good. Just as planned—keeping distance, following an opponent to adjust to the sand track. Next, she would move up to the front, training to adapt to the pressure of chasing.
Without responding to Shibasaki, Kitahara kept his eyes on the silvery-gray figure at the back.
As if responding to his thoughts, Oguri Cap visibly increased her speed, overtaking the second-to-last horse, then passing two more to reach the middle-front of the pack.
Exactly the pre-race arranged "leading" position.
At the same time, the broadcast noted the change:
"The situation is shifting! The last-positioned Oguri Cap has overtaken three horse girls at once! She's now in the front pack! Was the earlier leading just her strategy?"
"Ah! The race is about to enter the fourth turn! All horse girls are accelerating!"
"Checking positions again!"
"First is still the Southern Female Horse… ah! She seems out of energy! She's slowing down!"
"Fujimasa March is making her move! After the fourth turn, the most popular horse girl, Fujimasa March, finally starts her sprint!"
"She overtakes two horse girls in a row! Takes first place!"
"Now Fujimasa March is leading!"
"Only 300 meters left! Can Fujimasa March maintain the lead till the end?!"
The 800-meter race was short. With the horse girls' average speed, it would take less than a minute to finish. In no time, the first and middle stages ended, leaving the final 300 meters.
The most exciting part often comes after the fourth turn—the final stretch!
For Kitahara, Shinsen Kōki, Kawamura Hina, and even the spectators and announcers, tension and excitement spiked simultaneously.
The commentator's voice intensified:
"Ohhh?! No. 5, Oguri Cap, is making her move! She sprints from the leading position into the front pack! Overtaking consecutively, now in second place!"
"First-place Fujimasa March is still sprinting! Their speeds are almost identical!"
"The situation is clear! Fujimasa March is running away! Oguri Cap is chasing!"
"It's a one-on-one battle now!"
"Both are grey horses! Is this destined rivalry?!"
Influenced by the commentator's excitement, the stands erupted.
"Ohhh! Can Kasamatsu produce racehorses of this level? I didn't even buy tickets today!" said one of the few spectators.
"What—?! Impossible?!" exclaimed Norn Ace and the other horse girls.
"Oguri Cap is that strong?!" said Kawamura Hina and Yan Genichi, trainers unfamiliar with her.
"Run, March! Run!" shouted Shibasaki.
Even Kitahara, usually restrained, and Shinsen Kōki, previously too tense to cheer, now couldn't hold back:
"Well done! Oguri Cap! Go!"
"Gooo! Oguri!"
…
…This is it—the real racetrack! So happy, running with all your heart, carefree…
Even though her bad start concerned me a bit, everything else—ankle training, mid-pack strategy, adaptive exercises, pre-race drills—was working perfectly…
I've moved into second place, and now first… nothing could go wrong!
…
It's you. I knew it. If anyone on this track is my rival, it's you. This is a one-on-one duel…
But I've said it—I won't lose. My daily efforts are for victory after victory. I used to win, and this time is no exception!
I will defeat you. The one who earns the right to the Tokai Derby in the end will be me!
…
"200 meters to the finish straight! Fujimasa March and Oguri Cap are still head-to-head! They're almost side by side! Oguri Cap is just half a horse length behind!"
"Can she catch up?!"
"Ah! It seems impossible! Both are giving their all, but Oguri Cap can't close that half-length gap!"
…
"Sorry, Kitahara, I'm afraid this is the worst scenario Oguri Cap could face…"
Feeling as if victory was assured, Shibasaki relaxed and murmured to Kitahara: "I didn't expect Oguri Cap to be this strong, holding on so tight."
"But now the race has reached the point where all tactics are irrelevant. It's pure strength. Their abilities are almost equal, and March is leading, so Oguri Cap's chance to overtake is…"
"Zero…"
Muttering regretfully, Shibasaki glanced at Kitahara.
Suddenly, Kitahara froze.
He realized he had entered a strange state.
"…200 meters, 200 meters… go, go… 200 meters, 200 meters… go, go…"
Shibasaki saw his colleague staring blankly at the track, repeating strange words like a man possessed.
"Kitahara, what are you saying…" Shibasaki began to ask, but the sudden loud broadcast interrupted him.