A certain venue in Tokyo.
A grand celebration was underway—a gala held to commemorate the formal inauguration and the successful first year of the URA Finals and the Legend Race. As the mastermind behind these events, Rampage had initially intended to skip the formalities entirely. However, the proposal had come directly from her "guardians"—Mejiro Asama, the current head of the Mejiro house, and Speed Symboli, the advisor to the Symboli family. She couldn't exactly say no.
"These things must be handled with decorum," Asama had insisted.
"You let the victory party for your Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe triumph slide because of the BC Classic, remember?" Speed Symboli added. "You don't want the press hounding you later for being 'disrespectful,' do you, Ran-chan?"
Adulthood, Rampage mused, was an endless string of tedious obligations. Yet, once she committed to the bit, she found she could navigate the shark-infested waters of high society with surprising ease. She suspected her previous life as a corporate drone was finally paying off in an unexpected way. Back then, she'd survived countless hours of listening to executives drone on about their glory days just to get a taste of the high-end catering. Even now, the memory of those secret, gourmet perks was a private treasure.
Writing the invitations, however, had been a nightmare.
"Alright, who invited the 'Legend' who wasn't even on the list?" Rampage sighed, looking at the guest before her.
"Oh, come on! I heard there was something fun happening," Mr. CB replied with a breezy grin. "I actually wanted to compete in this, but Rudolf practically begged me to enter the Dream Trophy League instead. Consider this my 'reconnaissance' for next year."
"And I'm here as the President's proxy!" Tokai Teio chirped, puffing out her chest. "That's right! For today, I am the Acting Student Council President of Tracen Academy!"
"If you're the President, the world really is coming to an end," Rampage muttered.
"How rude! Ludo-ii-ie-sa!"
"Exactly my point."
Rampage looked at the duo—the free-spirited Mr. CB and the hyperactive Teio. She felt a headache forming, but her mind immediately shifted into "management mode." In situations like this, you either adapt or get trampled.
"Well... at least I know the 'Hachimie' will come in handy."
"Wait! You have Hachimie here!?" Teio's eyes turned into sparkling saucers.
"In a manner of speaking. Since it's the official drink of choice for Central Horse Girls, I made sure we had a custom blend on tap. You can even adjust the sweetness. Go knock yourself out later."
"Yesss! Hachimie! Hachimie! Hachimie! ♪"
As Teio skipped away, her mood doing a complete 180, Rampage let out a long breath. Should I be glad she's that easy to please, or just worried?
Meanwhile, Mr. CB was peeking into the main hall. The venue was a curious sight: a lavish ballroom filled with a chaotic mix of Horse Girls in elegant evening gowns, traditional festival garb, and casual streetwear. Rampage hadn't set a strict dress code. The URA Finals were meant to be for the people, so she didn't want to gatekeep the celebration with stuffy requirements.
"There are so many interesting girls here," CB mused. "I really should have gone the Legend route... Hey, does it have to be mid-distance?"
"The URA has its own balance to maintain," Rampage warned. "If you Triple Crown winners start invading the lower brackets, the URA will literally collapse from the paperwork alone."
"So? Let it collapse."
"And who do you think has to deal with the fallout of that 'collapse'...?"
Personally, Rampage didn't give a damn about the politics, but both "The Lady" (Asama) and "Sue-chan" (Symboli Rudolf) had asked her to keep things respectable. She was an adult now—or at least, she could play the part. Suddenly, her bone-conduction earpiece crackled to life. It was Rudolf's personal butler, who was assisting with the event.
"Miss Rampage, the preparations are complete. All invited guests have arrived. You may begin your address at your earliest convenience."
"Understood. But please, drop the 'Miss.' I'm not a Symboli, and I'm certainly not 'lady' material."
"My apologies... though Her Ladyship did mention that you are welcome to join the family as a bride whenever you wish."
"She's still on about that...?" Rampage muttered, a chill running down her spine. Rudolf's obsession with getting her into the Symboli family was becoming dangerously sincere.
"Alright, you two," Rampage said, turning back to CB and Teio. "I'm going up to give the speech. Once I'm done, feel free to eat, drink, or head home. You're on your own."
"Got it," CB said, her eyes sharpening. "The 'finish line' is when the gate opens, right?"
"Yup! I totally get it! Hachimie, Hachimie, Hachimie! ♪ If you lick the honey~ ♪"
Rampage highly doubted Teio "got it," but she didn't have time to linger. She stepped onto the stage. Immediately, the spotlights swiveled toward her, and the room fell into a hushed, expectant silence. Thousands of eyes tracked her movement. Members of the press, hand-picked and vetted by the Mejiro and Symboli families, readied their cameras.
Rampage didn't blink. She didn't falter. She took the mic with the effortless cool of a natural-born ruler, projecting the exact persona the world demanded of her.
"Oha-kon-halo-ciao! To the world, I am the World Record Holder, the Sovereign Tyrant, and the Undefeated Breeder—but you can just call me Rampage! Everyone! Are you all having a good time!?"
As her signature greeting echoed through the hall, a collective gasp rippled through the audience.
"It's the real deal..."
"She actually said it!"
"Look at that confidence!"
The murmurs were a mix of awe and disbelief. To pull such a casual, internet-era stunt at a formal gala was unheard of. But that was the point. She was showing them that no matter the venue, she hadn't changed.
"Welcome to the URA Finals and Legend Race Memorial Party! Every one of you here is a warrior who clawed your way through the qualifiers to stand on this stage. In this room, there is no rank, no status—only rivals who will soon clash on the turf. But before we draw blood, why not share a drink? Talk, laugh, and gather your strength! Let's dispense with the stiff formalities. Raise your glasses and let's make some noise! Cheers!"
"CHEERS!!!"
With Rampage's shout, the party truly began. The tension snapped, replaced by a frenetic energy. Some rushed for the gourmet buffet, their hunger finally unleashed; others, still nervous, huddled over drinks; and many more began to mingle, stars in their eyes as they met girls from across the country. At this moment, the divide between "Central" and "Regional" ceased to exist.
"Wait, aren't you...?"
"T-Teio!? Why are you here!?"
"I knew it was you!"
Teio had apparently found someone she recognized, letting out a delighted squeal before lunging into a hug. The other girl looked bewildered but touched by the unexpected reunion.
Watching the scene, Rampage felt a rare moment of peace. She watched Mr. CB wander off to follow her whims before stepping down from the stage herself. Her work was done—for now.
Historical Note: Mejiro Rampage After Retirement
The frenzy to catch a glimpse of the "Legendary Tyrant" after her retirement reached such heights that it became a matter of national security. Reservation requests for farm visits flooded in not just from across Japan, but from every corner of the globe.
The guest list grew to include the Emir of Dubai, European royalty, and even a former President of the United States. The sheer volume of high-profile visitors became impossible for the farm to handle alone, eventually requiring the Japanese government to intervene and manage the diplomatic logistics.
As a result, Mejiro Rampage became an accidental pillar of Japanese foreign policy. Relations with several nations were said to have improved significantly simply because Rampage had been "gracious" during their visits. Witnesses claimed that when world leaders finally met her, their stiff political facades would melt away, leaving only the wide, starstruck smiles of simple horse racing fans.
Furthermore, the demand for her "grandchildren"—the offspring of her illustrious foals—sparked a fierce global bidding war. The negotiations for her bloodline were described as some of the most intense and high-stakes "battles" in the history of the sport.
Next time: Characters submitted by readers will begin to appear! Please look forward to it!
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