What Kitahara had to take care of was, in fact, somewhat related to what Tōra had mentioned in that video.
The two races that Oguri Cap, Inari One, and Tamamo Cross each took part in had been reported in the central newspapers today.
This wasn't surprising. The performances of Oguri Cap and Inari One in the Shiwasu Special Cup had elevated the entire race to a level comparable to a graded stakes race — even surpassing a typical graded stakes — a result that practically defied common sense.
Local horse girls are weaker than central ones — this is not only "common knowledge," but reality.
The reality is this: among all the horse girls longing to enter Central, only about 1% manage to successfully make it into Central Tracen each year. Every other local horse girl tries every possible way to reach Central.
But of those, fewer than one in a thousand succeed.
And among those rare lucky few, far too many find themselves unable to endure the intensity of Central's training and races, ultimately returning to the local circuits from which they came.
Even those who do remain in Central aren't guaranteed to become famous.
Since the founding of the Japanese URA Association up to the present, the only horse girl to successfully climb from a local track to Central and leave her name in the history of the Twinkle Series was Haiseko — with a record of 22 starts, 13 wins, 4 seconds. She'd entered Central off a flawless local record of 6 wins from 6 starts — and from there, made a name for herself.
[I don't know who this is. Couldn't find any information. However someone like Oguri Cap is Seabiscuit, Red Rum and Archer.]
With that in mind, whether it was Oguri Cap's 11-for-11 record or Inari One's 7-for-7, both had already surpassed their senior Heisec's resume on paper. For Central to not notice them would've been abnormal.
As for Tamamo Cross, the reason she was reported was much simpler:
"From 5 Straight Losses to a 6-Length Victory!! The White Lightning! Thunder Descends!"
Chuunibyou flair seems to be Japan's natural-born talent — Tamamo Cross's headline was flashy, and so were Oguri Cap's and Inari One's:
"The Clash of Two Monsters! The Kasamatsu Beast vs. Ōi's Ultimate Weapon!"
"A Threat to Central Horse Girls?!"
"11 for 11! The Irresistible Gray Cinderella?!"
"Seven Wins Unbroken — How Will She Rise Again?!"
Thanks to these articles, phone calls, text messages, and letters began pouring into Kasamatsu Academy — every single one addressed to "Jō Kitahara," and sent either by the "URA Association" or the "Central Tracen Academy Board."
Symboli Rudolf, the student council president, didn't show up this time — didn't even send a message. Those short notes already made it clear: Central Tracen Academy would dispatch two teams — one to Kasamatsu, one to Ōi — to comprehensively evaluate Oguri Cap and Inari One's situations and discuss their transfer.
Unlike a month or two ago, Kitahara no longer worried about such matters.
The second round of Central's qualification exam was just a month away. All he had to do was wait, pass, and then openly take Oguri Cap and Super Creek to Central.
The Central inspection teams wouldn't arrive for several more days. All Kitahara needed to do now was cooperate with Kasamatsu Academy to complete a few required procedures.
What he was truly busy with was his business — or more precisely, the business of his team.
Same café, same Oguri Cap in tow, same meeting with Tomomi Konan.
"…Sorry, Konan-nee, but Oguri insisted on coming…"
Pointing to Oguri Cap beside him — currently devouring a tableful of desserts — Kitahara gave a helpless smile.
"She said she remembered how good this shop's desserts were, so…"
Tomomi Konan was more than ten years older than Kitahara, but no woman likes being called "old," so once they'd established a partnership, Kitahara had simply begun addressing her as "Konan-nee."
"Being able to eat is a good thing. I've always hoped my Light could eat like this."
She smiled briefly, then quickly moved to business, pulling several documents from the briefcase she had brought.
"This one here is about the 'Oguri Cap Digestive Tablets' that Ms. Kyoko Miyamura introduced us to. The partner company is 'Rakushō Pharmaceuticals.' Honestly, if it hadn't been for Mr. Miyamura and Ms. Miyamura's introduction, I wouldn't have dared to imagine ever working with a company of this scale."
Rakushō Pharmaceuticals wasn't the absolute top of the pharmaceutical world, but it was still a company worth hundreds of billions of yen — ranking within Japan's top fifty.
By contrast, Tomomi Konan's sporting goods store plus factory was barely worth a few million yen — with a touch of recognition in Nagoya at best, and even then, very much at the bottom. Outside Kasamatsu, only industry people would even recognize the name. For a small business like hers, treating Rakushō Pharmaceuticals like a massive, awe-inspiring entity was perfectly normal.
Kitahara, however, felt nothing in particular. The racetrack he used to manage wasn't large, but some of its club shareholders had extremely powerful family backgrounds.
Thanks to him and his friends being young and active in university, during grad school he had met quite a few "Nth-generation wealthy heirs" — or, in other words, the descendants of large financial groups. When they later ran the racetrack, those university friends, whether out of friendship, profit, or simple curiosity, invested in club form.
This, too, was a quirk of Japan — financial conglomerates, big or small, are deeply rooted; you can trace many back to the Edo period, even earlier. While his club's young backers weren't from the very top echelon, they generally hovered in the upper-middle layers — gathered together, their influence was nothing to scoff at. At the very least, it guaranteed that neither the club nor the racetrack would be targeted by major hostile forces.
Thanks to this experience, Kitahara adapted easily to working with big companies.
"'Digestive Tablets' likely aren't part of Rakushō Pharmaceuticals' core industry chain. If I remember correctly, their main products are targeted cancer therapies — especially cardiovascular-related."
Recalling details about Rakushō, Kitahara thought aloud.
"More than 60% of cardiovascular anti-cancer drugs on the market are their products. I imagine they treat these tablets as a mere side item — something they could hand off to anyone to handle."
"What they value isn't me, nor even Oguri Cap, but Uncle Koku — a highly respected senior in the medical field."
After a pause, he added,
"At the very least, right now, it's not me they value."
The admiration in Tomomi Konan's eyes was almost overflowing.
This young man before her had already surprised her too many times — even, one could say, shocked her.
First was Belno Light.
She knew perfectly well: her child was not an exceptional horse girl. Both she and her husband were human — meaning Belno Light was a filly-type horse girl.
By modern Japanese common sense, a filly whose parents are both human is, by no means, naturally as gifted as a colt whose mother is a horse girl.
Yet under Kitahara's guidance, Belno Light not only debuted with two straight wins, but even managed, by sheer luck, to pass the Central Tracen research exam in first place.
Though Kitahara repeatedly explained that it was purely Belno Light's own talent, this mother still preferred to believe it had all been thanks to Kitahara.
What shocked her even more, naturally, was Kitahara's talent in business.
She and her husband had practically built their current sporting goods store from nothing. She had once been proud of that accomplishment. But the plan Kitahara presented earlier had made it clear: whether in growth strategy, business vision, or any other aspect, this young man could be called nothing less than a genius.
She had casually applied just a few of the cases from that bundle of proposals he had given her last time — slotting them into her own business — and it had directly increased recent sales by over 50%. If further refined, she was certain the benefits would rise far beyond that.
Both stunned and thrilled, this time she wasn't just here to confirm a few partnerships with Kitahara — she also had longer-term ambitions in mind.
(End of Chapter)