Half a month later.
At the Hong Kong training grounds, two New Zealand Uma Musume had, for no particular reason, started appearing more and more often.
After all, everyone was active in the same general area.
With the number of chance encounters piling up, Folkqueen and Ellerslie Pride—two top-tier New Zealand powerhouses—naturally became "familiar faces" to Kuroha's side.
Because there was no direct conflict in their racing schedules, and because both Folkqueen and Ellerslie were pure, bona fide overseas elite contenders, Kuroha considered the practical angle as well.
His own Uma Musume also needed high-level overseas sparring partners in their day-to-day training.
So Kuroha generously invited the sisters to use this private training ground together.
After a brief phase of tsundere reluctance and hesitation, Folkqueen ultimately accepted the offer for the sake of preparing for the Japan Cup.
And with that, the summer training camp grew even busier and more fulfilling.
…
That day, the temporary trainers' office.
Sea wind stirred the curtains. Kuroha and Nase Fumino sat by the coffee table, a small mountain of documents stacked in front of them.
With Teio, McQueen, and Oguri Cap's training now steadily on track, the two trainers finally had enough bandwidth to start planning a longer-term strategy.
"Hm… there aren't any particularly suitable high-grade races in Hong Kong this September for Oguri Cap," Fumino said.
She held the latest race calendar in one hand, propping her smooth chin with the other, slipping into thought.
Kuroha nodded, lightly tapping the tabletop with a finger.
"Agreed. That period is basically all Grade 3 races. The Grade 2 races that are actually worth talking about don't show up until after late October."
By now, three quarters of the summer training camp had already passed.
For Oguri Cap's next overseas expedition plan, they could no longer afford to keep things at the "rough idea" stage like before.
They needed a concrete itinerary.
"Fumino, what do you think?" Kuroha asked, setting his materials aside and turning to her.
When Fumino blinked in surprise, he smiled and waved a hand casually.
"Say whatever. I just want to hear your thinking."
"…Schedule planning?" Fumino murmured.
She considered for a moment, then shook the race calendar in her hand, analyzing in a rigorous tone.
"I think we should still take it step by step."
"Oguri Cap is very strong, but it's still her first time traveling abroad."
"It'd be best to start with a local Grade 3 in September to get used to the rhythm, then gradually challenge higher levels."
"As for the final objective…"
Fumino paused, then said softly, "The newly established international G1 in December—the Hong Kong Mile Championship."
As she spoke, a glint flashed in her eyes.
"This is an international Grade 1 that was founded only this year. If Oguri Cap can win it, she'll be the inaugural champion. The prestige is enormous."
But as she kept talking, she noticed Kuroha staring at her with a rather odd expression.
"…Why are you looking at me like that?" Fumino shot him an irritated glance. "What, you have a different idea?"
Kuroha laughed and shook his head.
"No, no. I'm just a little surprised. I thought, with your personality, you'd recommend the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe right away like other Central trainers."
As far as Kuroha knew, the trainers at Central Tracen had an abnormal obsession with "the Arc."
Their level of fervor was not the least bit inferior to New Zealanders' longing for the Japan Cup.
He hadn't expected Fumino not to mention it at all.
"How could I?" Fumino rolled her eyes hard, crossing her arms and snorting.
"The Arc starts in early October. How long has Oguri Cap even had to adapt to overseas turf?"
"And if you factor in Europe's environment, travel fatigue, and time-zone adjustment, there's nowhere near enough time."
"Maybe a G2 could still be forced through if you gamble on it. But a world-class slaughterhouse at the absolute highest level? How is that even remotely possible?"
After venting a few lines of displeasure, Fumino abruptly changed tack, her purple eyes fixing on Kuroha.
"Hmph. Don't just question me. What's your idea, Head Trainer?"
"My idea?" Kuroha repeated, the corner of his mouth lifting.
He reached out, took the Hong Kong race calendar from Fumino's hand, and spread it together with several of his own documents across the coffee table.
"Look."
Kuroha leaned forward, moving closer to Fumino, and used a red pen to mark and map across the papers.
…
Fumino's slender body stiffened slightly, a faint blush quietly rising on her cheeks.
With that warm torso almost brushing her shoulder, a crisp, clean masculine scent swept in.
Close enough to be within a breath was the focused, sharp profile of his face.
The purple-haired beauty's lips trembled as if she wanted to tell him to back off.
But in the end she said nothing.
Like a resigned little cat, she simply leaned in, letting her gaze fall where his pen pointed.
Kuroha was fully in work mode at this moment and noticed none of her subtle reactions.
He hesitated for a beat, then circled the "Hong Kong Mile Championship" entry.
"First, the plan you just proposed is broadly very sound in its underlying logic."
"If we take a conservative strategy, staying in Hong Kong and challenging upward step by step is indeed the correct approach."
As he spoke, he marked the Sha Tin Championship in October and the qualifier in November.
"Steady and methodical, all the way to winning the inaugural Hong Kong Mile Championship. That's a very stable road to glory."
Watching that carefully structured "conservative plan," Fumino immediately caught the subtext in Kuroha's wording.
She raised an eyebrow.
"That's the 'conservative' plan… so you have an aggressive plan too?"
Kuroha froze for a moment, then looked at the beauty beside him with clear surprise, a trace of admiration in his eyes.
"Fumino, you really do get me."
"Y-you… Who gets you? Don't say weird things!" Fumino instantly bristled, cheeks red as she snapped back, though she still didn't move away even a fraction.
Kuroha didn't pay much attention to the tsundere counterattack. He turned back, his gaze sharpening into something deeper and more piercing.
"When I decided to come to Hong Kong before the holiday, I did have the same idea as you."
"But during this time, Oguri's growth speed has exceeded my expectations. So I think we can be bolder. We can trust Oguri a little more."
As he spoke, his pen tip tapped down and pointed toward a destination thousands of kilometers away from Hong Kong—Ireland.
"September 14. G1, turf 2000 meters. The Irish Champion Stakes."
"Ireland?!" Fumino's eyes widened in shock, her gaze locked onto the red-circled location. "And it's a G1?"
Her expression turned hesitant.
After all, Central's overseas campaigns in past years had not exactly been ideal.
For Oguri Cap's first overseas expedition to jump straight into a high-intensity G1—wasn't that too much?
"How does it feel?" Kuroha's calm voice pulled Fumino out of her hesitation.
She turned her head and looked at him.
At that confident smile he always wore, the inexplicable worry in her heart scattered on its own.
Right. This was Kuroha.
The man who forged the "Chasing Light" miracle, Central's strongest trainer.
How could she measure him by ordinary logic?
"…If you think it's doable, then there's no problem," Fumino said softly, a tone of total trust threading through her voice. "I'm only support anyway. If something goes wrong, you're responsible."
"Good."
With Fumino's approval secured, Kuroha no longer hesitated. His pen danced, outlining a grand blueprint that spanned half the globe.
September 14: Ireland. G1, Irish Champion Stakes (Turf 2000m).
October 1: France. G1, Prix du Moulin de Longchamp (Turf 1600m).
November 9: Hong Kong. G2, Hong Kong Mile Championship Qualifier (Turf 1600m).
December 16: Hong Kong. G1, Hong Kong Mile Championship (Turf 1600m).
Half a year. Three G1 races. One G2.
A true aggressive strategy.
A strong one's journey.
"…That really is you, Kuroha," Fumino said after a long silence.
Staring at that scalp-numbing race calendar, she could only rub her forehead and let out a bitter, helpless smile.
It was—absurdly bold.
But the plan was also highly rational: the timing was more than generous, and it perfectly matched Oguri Cap's range.
"Then according to your plan, we'll have to end this training camp early in mid-August and go to Ireland to adapt to the course?"
"We do need to go early," Kuroha said, nodding without hesitation. "And in Ireland, I also have some personal business."
"?" Fumino looked puzzled. "What kind of business?"
Kuroha blinked, wearing a wild, unrestrained grin.
"To 'steal' a little Uma Musume who's destined to become famous worldwide, and bring her onto the team."
"Steal?!" Fumino froze.
"If I don't steal her, her guardian probably won't let her go," Kuroha said with a light laugh. "At least, before I truly make my name across the world, I need to go claim my spot first, so she doesn't get led astray by some unreliable trainer."
...
"You even know overseas Uma Musume?" Fumino looked at him with a complicated expression.
Kuroha's expression turned even more complicated.
"Hey. I'm originally an overseas trainer. I'm a Tōkō (東煌) person."
"…," Fumino fell silent.
They'd spent so much time together that she'd practically forgotten this guy was, in fact, a foreigner.
"She hasn't debuted yet?"
"Right. She hasn't True Bloomed yet," Kuroha said.
His voice softened, carrying a hint of nostalgia.
"Back then, I promised her three things."
"What things?"
"That I would make her my trainee Uma Musume, and then lead her to rule the world!"
…
On the other side of the Earth.
Europe, Ireland.
Within a picturesque private manor villa.
At this moment, a little Uma Musume with long brown hair and a face as exquisitely doll-like as porcelain stood on a small stool, leaning over the balcony rail.
She stared expressionlessly at a private training ground below.
Down there, three girls who resembled her by a good sixty percent were sweating through their training.
After a long while, training ended.
One of the Uma Musume on the field seemed to notice the little one spying from above and enthusiastically waved.
"Star! Come down and run with us!"
Thump!
A thin notebook smacked down onto the girl's head.
The one who did it was a stern, unsmiling middle-aged woman.
"Urban! Don't bother your little sister! She hasn't True Bloomed yet!"
"Okay… Got it, Sis," Urban replied, clutching her head with a wronged look.
Looking at Urban, the middle-aged woman seemed to recall something. Her brow tightened, and her sharp eyes pinned Urban in place.
"You haven't been dragging Sea The Stars into running with you again, have you?"
"No, no! Absolutely not!" Urban frantically shook her head and waved both hands, bobbing like a rattle drum. "Besides, Star doesn't want to run with me anyway!"
"So you did ask her to run," the middle-aged woman snapped, catching the point. Her voice jumped an octave.
"Eek—!" Urban instantly snapped to attention.
"Go run two more laps. Today's carrot honey cakes are canceled!"
"Noooo—!!"
Up on the balcony, listening to her sister's miserable scream below, Sea The Stars' delicate little face tilted almost imperceptibly, the corner of her mouth lifting for a brief moment.
Then she raised her head, those deep eyes like stars gazing toward the blue sky.
"How much longer… for me?"
"And… rule the world… huh?"
(End of Chapter)
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