No sky above, no ground below—only an endless expanse of strange, intertwining patterns in blues and purples, like flowers from the other shore. Above, a pendulum swung, emitting a clear, melodious chime, while countless jellyfish-like fish drifted lazily in the space around.
This was a mysterious, dreamlike, and fantastical realm.
And right now, a lone figure lay sprawled on the "ground," limp as a ragdoll.
The fiery passion she'd shown earlier had burned out completely. Wisps of black smoke continuously seeped from her body, swirling around her before being drawn back in, over and over again.
I'm done for…
When she'd left the racetrack, her legs had felt like they were weighed down by a thousand pounds of stone, impossible to lift. In that moment, it was as if she'd been a firecracker—all her inner fire exploding forth in an instant, leaving behind nothing but a charred, brittle husk.
Summoning every last ounce of strength, she'd dragged herself back to the competitors' lounge, all the while feeling countless eyes following her. Sunday Silence alone had spotted at least ten people watching.
And that wasn't all. The reporters had descended upon her like a pack of ravenous wolves.
Fortunately, Sunday Silence had managed to trip up the ones in front, buying a few precious seconds, allowing the girl to stumble into the safety of the lounge.
Without a second thought, she'd plunged headfirst into the mirror on the dressing table.
So this is what exhaustion feels like for a ghost?
It was nothing like being human. Her body, her senses—everything was fading, drifting further away. It didn't feel like she was controlling her body anymore, but rather clumsily maneuvering a crude, stiff-limbed puppet, struggling to haul around limbs and a torso made of solid concrete.
"You were running on pure brute force," a voice remarked.
A mirror surfaced within the blue and purple world. Sunday Silence looked down at the girl collapsed on the ground, unable to hold back the comment.
"Sorry…" the girl mumbled, not even twitching a muscle. "But it's all I could manage right now."
"Well, you certainly committed to that wild running style. It might not suit you, but…" Sunday Silence's lips curved into a smile. "It was entertaining enough."
"So… did I make enough of an impression? Do people remember me?"
"See for yourself."
Sunday Silence raised a hand. Shards of glass of varying sizes materialized around the girl—display windows from shops, fragments of signage, side mirrors from cars. Scenes from the outside world layered themselves around her.
These were the spectators leaving Tokyo Racecourse. Their voices filtered through the mirrors, carrying into this space.
'That black Uma Musume…' 'The intruder…' 'The Derby champion…' 'She left the track…' 'Vanished…'
'The black Uma Musume…' 'That black Uma Musume…'
Even though these people were strangers to one another, their conversations were strikingly similar.
They were all talking about the unnamed intruder, that black lightning bolt that seemed to devour the world's light.
"Ha…"
Listening to their words, watching the expressions on their faces, the girl began to laugh.
"Haha… Hahaha—!"
She rolled onto her back, lying flat on the featureless ground, and gazed up at the giant clock in the sky, her laughter ringing out like clear, silver bells.
Yes. This was exactly what she wanted.
Everyone was discussing her actions. Everyone was puzzling over her identity.
All eyes on me!
She spread her heavy arms wide, as if to embrace the entire world.
"A decent start," Sunday Silence agreed with a nod. She seemed to be in good spirits.
This wasn't Sunday Silence's first time on a proper racetrack. In fact, she'd been present at many races in the past, running wild and free, ahead of all the other Uma Musume.
But back then, no one's eyes had ever been able to capture her reflection.
What a pity.
Sunday Serenity couldn't help but think.
All you could see was the result, the outcome left lingering on the surface.
While everyone cheered for the victor, the ghost girl, completely unnoticed, had quietly slipped away.
On that three-thousand-meter track, she had surpassed the 'winner'—the one everyone was applauding—by a total of seventeen lengths.
That was enough.
To have a presence that could never be caught, a shadow that would haunt their dreams like a nightmare—that was enough.
So she said, yet her face wore an expression that was utterly bored and far from satisfied.
'You're also… someone who can't stand being left in the shadows.'
The voice of Narita Brian echoed in her ears once more—her breathing, her heartbeat—still lingering even after the race was over.
"You saw right through me."
"Saw what?" Sunday Serenity asked.
"No, it's nothing." Sunday Silence shook her head. She crouched down, her fingers gently tracing the girl's abdomen before sliding up to her chest.
"W-What is it?" the girl asked, twitching at the ticklish sensation on her stomach.
"Your spirit body has grown very weak."
A wisp of black smoke drifted in the air, enveloping a smooth, translucent outline—likely the shape of Sunday Silence's finger from the touch.
"This is what happens when you expend your energy without any regard for the consequences."
It was worse than being scorched by a living soul.
"When night falls, I'll take you out. For now, just rest."
She felt as if someone was gently lifting her head, placing it on a soft lap. In this secluded, mysterious world, the girl slowly closed her eyes and welcomed the first dream she'd had since becoming a ghost.
--+--
Tap, tap, tap—
In the student council room, the door swung open after a knock. 'The Empress,' Air Groove, walked in, carrying a stack of documents.
"Do we have any results yet?" Symboli Rudolf asked from her position at the desk.
"We have something," Air Groove replied. "But you probably won't be pleased with it."
Rudolf took the offered papers. Her slender fingers turned to the first page, which was headed by a report on the investigation into the 'Black Uma Musume.'
The central association had reviewed all past race records, but found no competitor that matched the description of the unknown girl.
Coupled with the fact that no camera had captured her image—making it impossible to obtain clear facial features—the investigation was severely hampered. So, even though the central committee was running itself ragged, there had been no significant progress.
Furthermore, some media outlets had already begun voicing criticisms, questioning the integrity of the [Japan Derby]. They argued that the organizers had been ill-prepared for such an important event, showing negligence—a grave error.
The viewers of the live broadcast had been the most frustrated.
They'd watched as the camera, as if smeared with dirt, pointed at empty space while the commentators rambled on with forced excitement. Outraged, viewers had flooded the central committee's complaint hotline, nearly overloading it.
It was all within expectations.
The public's trust in the URA was declining. Investors were accusing them of inadequate oversight.
Troubles never come singly. That black Uma Musume had become the spark igniting turmoil across the horse racing world.
This girl really is my natural enemy…
Rudolf sighed inwardly.
"I understand. I'll handle the remaining matters." Rudolf set the documents aside. There were other things requiring her attention.
That 'Grey Monster,' undefeated in regional races, was soon transferring to the central circuit.
Nameless black Uma Musume… At Tracen Academy, there was no shortage of powerhouses who could be called 'monsters.'
'The Shadow Roll Monster,' 'The Fugitive from Another Dimension,' 'The Conqueror of the Century's End,' 'The Heroine of Justice'…
If you insist on challenging the center, then all these formidable opponents will become your enemies.
When that time comes, will you still be able to remain as composed as you were today?
Will your 'Black Lightning' be able to surpass the 'White Lightning' that made countless people tremble in awe?
For a fleeting moment, Rudolf saw it again.
That stark white face, twisted into an arrogantly wild grin.
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.