**Chapter 25: Resistance Queen**
"So, her mom must be Taniguchi Kotone, right?" Kitano said, piecing together the lineage in his head.
He traced it further back to White Rice Time, a big-name stallion brought over from America. Interestingly, the mare's side didn't tie back to Sunday Silence, which was rare.
"You nailed it!" Kimura said with a grin, clearly impressed. "Didn't peg you for knowing bloodlines so well, Kitano."
"It's not like I studied it," Kitano said, shaking his head modestly. "Just something I picked up."
He turned his attention to the Kurige mare grazing nearby. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. Her muscles flowed smoothly from her hindquarters to her back, with no awkward dips. Her legs were well-proportioned, hooves narrow and pointed, and her frame was on the smaller side but balanced. Even without his Detector tool, Kitano could tell she was built for speed.
"She's made for turf, isn't she?" he asked.
"Spot on," Kimura said, nodding. He pointed at the mare. "Her dad, London Tower, was a champ in turf sprints. With the explosive power from her mom's side, this one's got a shot at following in his hoofprints."
"That's all about how you pair them up, right? The bloodlines?" Kitano asked, curiosity sparking.
Kimura thought for a moment. "Pretty much. It's about finding a good match. Like pairing a smaller stallion with a bigger mare, or one with strong hooves but a stiff frame with another that's flexible but fragile. You hope they pass on the best of both."
"But couldn't they also inherit the worst of both?" Kitano asked, frowning slightly.
Kimura's face turned serious for a moment. "That's the gamble of horse racing. Always has been." Then he broke into a laugh, clapping Kitano's shoulder. "Sounds deep, right? It took me ages to come up with that one!"
He gestured toward a dark bay horse by the fence. "Come on, let's check out this one."
Kimura introduced the horse. "Her dad's Four Wheel Drive from America, and her mom's side goes back to Affirmed from Canada. The Gold Digger line's a beast on dirt tracks."
Kitano crouched to inspect the horse's hooves. They were thicker than average, with wide, round soles—perfect for dirt racing. Her build was sturdy, her hindquarters packed with muscle that made her look stronger than your typical two-year-old mare. With a bloodline like that, she seemed like a sure bet for dirt races.
"This one would turn heads at the auction, wouldn't she?" Kitano said, standing up. He couldn't imagine a horse this promising being offered in a private sale.
Kimura held out a carrot stick, coaxing the dark bay closer. "Come here, Resistance Queen."
The horse's eyes locked on the carrot, and she took a step forward. That's when Kitano noticed it.
"Stringhalt," he said softly.
Her right hind leg lifted too high, an unnatural twitch with each step.
Kimura gave a wry smile. "Yeah, she's got a limp."
Stringhalt, Kitano knew, was a neurological issue that caused exaggerated leg movements. For a racehorse, it was a death sentence for a competitive career. The condition put extra strain on her front legs—15 to 20% more than a healthy horse—making injuries like shin splints three times more likely.
It also messed with her stride, wasted energy, and slowed her starts. Worst of all, there was no real cure. Even the fancy new neural stimulators being tested at Johns Hopkins could only manage the symptoms, not fix them.
"Have you thought about making her a broodmare?" Kitano asked, glancing at the limping horse.
Kimura sighed. "Her bloodline's been a tough sell in Japan. Four Wheel Drive's not exactly a hot pick for breeding these days—barely fifty foals this year."
He admitted he'd considered retiring her early. When the ranch's vet, Mr. Shibata, first diagnosed her, he held out hope, saying, "She might still run." But as the Resistance Queen's physique grew stronger, her limp became a bigger obstacle. Even the ranch staff, who adored her, couldn't help but look at her with cautious pity.
"But she's not registered for racing yet, is she?" Kitano asked. Most foals didn't get names at the ranch unless they were close to race registration.
Kimura shook his head. "Not yet. Resistance Queen's just what we call her around here."
"I see," Kitano said, his voice trailing off as he thought it over.
Kimura's eyes lit up with a spark of hope. "If you're interested, I could let her go for 120 million yen. Down from 150."
The price was a steal—barely the breeding fee, with no markup for her potential. But Kitano didn't answer right away. He looked at the dark bay horse again.
[Miss Pro2023 / Resistance Queen (Unnamed)]
[Mare, 2 years old]
[Dark Bay]
He didn't pull out the Detector. Something about her tugged at him, and he needed to think it through.
"Mr. Kimura, can I take some time to decide?" he asked.
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