Meanwhile—
In a Chukyo Racecourse viewing suite.
The racecourse manager stood obsequiously before a sofa, bent at the waist, fawning over a girl.
Opposite his paunch stood two legendary Uma Musume:
One wore a sumptuous green outfit, brown hair cascading to her waist with a single white forelock. She was the mountain no one could bypass when speaking of Uma Musume: Tracen Academy Student Council President, the first undefeated Triple Crown winner, career record 16: 13-1-1—the revered "Emperor," Symboli Rudolf.
Seated beside the "Emperor" was her vice president and right hand, a legend in her own right, famed for a splendid record: Air Groove, the "Empress."
"...It's an honor to have the Emperor and the Empress grace us." The man mopped the stress-sweat from his brow.
Strictly speaking, the two had no direct entanglement with a racecourse manager, so he needn't be this afraid.
But the Student Council they led effectively ran Tracen's affairs.
At a word from the Emperor or Empress, every Central runner could refuse to race at a given venue. If that happened, Chukyo might as well shutter.
So, seeing the two arrive unannounced, Beer Belly was terrified of offending them in any way.
"Manager, no need. Groove and I are only here to watch today's race—nothing more," said Symboli Rudolf, a hint of exasperation on her face.
She'd slipped out to quietly watch a certain child's debut, only to be recognized by the manager.
To maintain her perfect image, she had to trade pleasantries with the man—exhausting.
"Then at least allow me to arrange our finest VIP suite!" he blurted.
"No need," Air Groove said coolly. "We've already reserved this one. Please just see to your duties."
Favor-trading was something she would never permit within the Student Council.
"Then, regarding Tokai Teio, should we perhaps…"
"Manager, do you want to stain my honor?"
Rudolf cut him off cold.
She turned, eyes boring into him.
In that instant he felt like a dragon had fixed him in its gaze; even breathing became difficult.
His nerves screamed overload; his knees shook; a chorus in his skull screamed: Run. Now.
"O-of course not!!! I'll just… take my leave…!"
Mumbling a parting line, he clamped his legs together and bolted out, half running, half stumbling—straight to the restroom.
"Annoying. I finally carved out a rest day and still had to deal with that sort of person," Rudolf sighed to Groove.
"Unavoidable," said Air Groove, picking up a folder on the table. "At least he was useful for this."
Fourteen files—one for each entrant including Tokai Teio—detailing registration dossiers.
"Any seedlings worth noting? The Director's been griping about low enrollment this year. She gave me a few special-admission slots to pad the numbers," Rudolf asked.
"Honestly, aside from Teio and our own Fine Motion… on paper, no one stands out. But paper is paper—truth is decided on the course, with our own eyes. Right?"
Air Groove flipped the pages and replied.
Their tone felt so natural it was as if they were back in the Council office. Rudolf noticed and quickly cut it off, not wanting work to invade her rare day off:
"Anyway, Teio's race is about to begin… I actually hope someone can threaten her this time."
"Really? With how doting you are, I'm not seeing it," Groove quipped.
Before Teio had even debuted, the dignified President had doted on her to no end—letting her nap on her lap at work, checking her training every day—like a doting father…
"That's—look, this is different!"
Rudolf knew she spoiled the girl and had been called on it. She hurriedly changed the subject:
"Because of my record, Teio is fixated on replicating an undefeated Triple Crown before she's even raced… It's thick-faced for me to say, but an undefeated Triple Crown is nigh impossible. Beyond strength, technique, and sense, you need that sliver of luck."
"She doesn't even grasp the meaning of failure yet; it's mere longing," Rudolf added, worried. "If she doesn't learn the weight of victory, one day failure will crush her…"
"So—let her fail in her debut?" Air Groove's look was odd.
"I didn't say that!" Rudolf waved her hands. "I hope she has a perfect debut. But… if someone could at least threaten her, it would teach her how hard victory is won—and to treasure each race.
Like my rival Mr. C.B. back then. Racing is growing through competition."
"Dote away," Groove muttered, rolling her eyes and returning to the files.
Tokai Teio—the "future second Emperor," the odds-on darling—would she find her "Mr. C.B." among these fourteen?
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