Happy times are always fleeting.
After everyone spent a few carefree days going wild, exploring that private beach and food street from end to end, Kuroha finally pulled out the summer training camp schedule sheet that could make your legs go weak just from a single glance.
However, that schedule sheet wasn't for everyone.
After all, the roster for this year's summer training camp was, frankly, complicated.
Inari One, Obey Your Master, Sakura Chiyono O, Maruzensky, and Super Creek (who had specifically come along this time).
These five legendary Umamusume had all already retired, and were basically in full "coasting" mode.
Their job was simply to act as sparring partners when needed, or to pass on experience and guidance to the younger generation.
As for the active group—Fujimasa March and Ardan.
Their physical conditioning had already reached its peak, with dozens of gold skills to their names. They were maxed-out builds with nothing left to "raise."
So all they needed to do was maintain competitive form. Their training load was relatively light.
The only ones Kuroha circled onto the "hell list" were three.
Teio, who had just debuted and urgently needed to grow.
McQueen, right in the middle of her Classic Year.
And… Oguri Cap, who was about to shoulder the heavy responsibility of an overseas campaign.
…
Training Grounds, noon.
The sunlight was dazzling to the point of being harsh—"seven-six-zero"—and the air was filled with the blended scent of grass and sea breeze.
"Thud thud thud—!"
Heavy yet rapid footsteps echoed across the empty track.
A gray-haired figure was running tirelessly over the turf, a faint aura shimmering around her—subtle, but carrying the pressure of a crowned king.
Under the sunshade on the side of the track, Kuroha held a tablet, eyes locked on the figure on the course as he spoke.
Beside him, Nase Fumino was scribbling furiously in her notebook, while Super Creek stood with her hands folded over one another before her chest, watching ahead with a gentle, focused gaze.
"…That is the fundamental difference in force feedback between 'turf' and 'dirt,'" Kuroha said in a low voice. "Only when you've grasped those tiny distinctions at the level of muscle memory can an Umamusume unleash her full power without being limited by the surface, without being shackled by an unfamiliar track type."
"Otherwise, if you run into a heavy track or an ultra-heavy track that's out of human control, anyone who can't adapt won't even be able to bring out sixty percent of her strength."
He stopped there, giving them time to digest.
Nase Fumino was the one he'd picked as his "worker."
In the future, when he returned to Central Tracen Academy to handle internal team matters, she would have to carry the load alone and take charge of Oguri Cap's overseas expedition training. Naturally, she needed to learn properly.
So today, Kuroha took the knowledge behind the two adaptation-type skills, "Turf Adaptation" and "Dirt Adaptation," and, using Oguri Cap's training state as the vehicle, broke it down into pieces and force-fed it into her.
As for Super Creek, she was simply sitting in as a listener…
After a brief silence, Nase Fumino rubbed her slightly swollen temples and let out a long sigh, but her gaze became more focused than ever.
"…Now I finally understand why I could never beat you before."
This depth of understanding toward the track was absurd—like he'd studied every inch of it down into his bones.
Her former self, and even those so-called veteran trainers in the Central circuit, simply couldn't compare to Kuroha in the slightest.
Behind her, Super Creek frowned thoughtfully as well.
Ever since retiring, her sharpness of thought was nowhere near her peak.
That sensation—like her thinking would occasionally get "blocked"—was something she still hadn't fully gotten used to, even now.
But she could still feel that enormous gap.
So that's how it is…
Is this why Chasing Light's Umamusume are so terrifying?
Just their fundamentals were already ahead of the entire Central circuit.
"Losing doesn't feel unjust," Super Creek thought to herself. Her eyes held not the slightest trace of frustration or dejection—instead, they burned with an unfamiliar light.
She was already retired. What was past was past.
What mattered was that she could learn something real now—something tangible.
Watching the two sink into contemplation, Kuroha turned his head. A faint gleam surfaced in his eyes as he looked back to Oguri Cap on the track.
For Oguri Cap, Kuroha had already completed "Turf Adaptation" and "Dirt Adaptation" in full long before the vacation.
She still couldn't match the level of seasoned Chasing Light Umamusume like Fujimasa March or Ardan, for now.
But at least, in a track environment like this—so similar to the Central circuit—it would no longer affect her at all.
That meant the next step could begin.
The glow of Body and Breath Perception faded from Kuroha's eyes as he fell into thought.
In the next two months, he didn't plan to rush into teaching her the use of various gold skills.
Instead, he would refine Oguri Cap's fundamentals.
Starting with turf and dirt adaptation.
Then moving on to short, mile, medium, and long distance adaptation training, as well as the cultivation of pace-control tactics and race sense.
He would make sure that, over these two months, Oguri Cap truly became worthy of the title "Chasing Light Umamusume"!
Of course, if he wanted Oguri Cap to be reborn in just two short months, conventional methods wouldn't cut it.
He had to use "technology and brutality."
For example—an ultra-abnormal training volume.
For example—paired with that special technique that had once returned Super Creek to her peak: Panacea Massage.
…
Night, in the dorm.
Under soft lighting, the gray-haired girl—fed and satisfied—was now sprawled defenselessly on the bed.
Maybe the daytime training had genuinely squeezed her dry, or maybe dinner had simply been too delicious.
Either way, Oguri Cap had gone completely limp like a slime, cheek pressed into the pillow, those gray-white ears drooping low.
"Oguri, how have you been feeling lately?" Kuroha sat at the bedside, his warm palm resting on the girl's smooth, supple, rounded thigh.
His fingers moved with practiced ease, searching for muscle knots, pressing until the contours rose in arcs that felt almost strangely precise.
His palm followed the meridians slowly, guiding the medicine's effects as it seeped in.
"Mmm… nnh… it feels really good…" The girl let out a soft, sticky little hum, her lips and tongue carrying nothing but pure enjoyment.
When it came to massage like this, she and March reacted in completely different ways.
March was the type who felt great but was too embarrassed to say it.
She'd hidden under the blanket and whimpered for months, only fully getting used to it after things progressed further with Kuroha, and after more than two additional months passed—pure, shy, and sweet.
But Oguri Cap…
She was like a bigger, dozier, more straightforward cat.
The first few times, she might have been a little shy, but once she confirmed that "this is good for the body" and "it feels good," she accepted it openly—and even cooperated proactively.
If you had to compare… she was basically a slightly more airheaded Teio.
"I'm not talking about that kind of 'good,'" Kuroha said, helplessly amused. His pressure increased a little. "I mean, today's training—did it feel tough?"
Compared to last month, today's workload was the result of Kuroha experimentally increasing it by 1.3 times.
If his judgment and planning were correct…
Then over these two months of summer training camp, he planned to gradually raise the load to more than double.
All to accelerate Oguri Cap's transformation.
A plan this insane—if it were any other trainer, even the very best in Central Tracen Academy or the world—no one would dare act so recklessly.
Because for ordinary Umamusume, that kind of ramp-up not only greatly increased the risk of injury…
Over time, it would also overdraft the body, drastically shortening the length of the athlete's peak.
But Kuroha was different.
After long-term research, after elevating the techniques of "Massage" and "Panacea" again and again and again…
He could already solve those side effects and hidden risks perfectly.
After all, how could ordinary people be compared to someone running cheats?
With so many "advantages" stacked on himself, plus years of accumulation…
Kuroha was already a completely different person from the version of himself who had just graduated and joined with a "sign-in system."
If he still arranged schedules as conservatively as other trainers did, he felt he might as well smash his head into a wall and die.
"Training intensity…?" Hearing him get serious, Oguri Cap forced one eye open.
Her gaze—usually a bit spacey—was unusually clear and gentle right now.
"Not tough."
"I can feel it… my body is getting stronger, little by little…"
She paused, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a shallow smile of contentment.
"Compared to before, I can run as much as I want now. I have the strength to answer you, Trainer, and to answer everyone's expectations… that's really wonderful…"
"So no matter how hard the training is, as long as it's what you ask for, it isn't tough."
"Is that so?" Warmth rose in Kuroha's chest. He shook his head with a soft laugh—if she had that resolve, then he could be even less merciful.
"Then I won't hold back in the training ahead. Are you mentally prepared, Oguri?"
Oguri Cap turned her head slightly, eyes unwavering.
"Please push me as hard as you like, Trainer!"
"Good. That's the spirit," Kuroha said, nodding in satisfaction.
But in the next instant, it seemed his hand pressed onto a particularly sensitive acupoint.
Suddenly, the gray-haired girl who had been brimming with vigor just a second ago had her voice cut off as if her throat had been pinched.
Her whole body jerked stiff like she'd been shocked, and a blush spread at visible speed from her pale neck, climbing straight to the roots of those long gray-white ears.
"Eeek—!!!"
Her trembly cry rang through the entire room.
"Nngh…!" Oguri Cap instantly buried her face into the pillow, her body trembling uncontrollably. Those ears were so red they looked ready to drip blood, pinned tight to her hair.
"Ah…" Watching the girl shiver beneath him, the corners of Kuroha's mouth curved in amusement.
He'd thought she was a naturally airheaded, fearless foodie war-god, but every now and then, he could still see this adorable side of her.
"Ahem. Hang in there, Oguri. I'm going to use more force now," Kuroha said, suppressing his laughter as he placed his hand back down.
"Mmm…"
Outside the window, the moonlight was perfect.
And Oguri Cap's journey of transformation had only just begun.
(End of Chapter)
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