It was hard to describe what the spectators were feeling at that moment.
It was a bit like sitting in an open-air stadium, in a chilly, hazy atmosphere, watching a magnificent and unbelievable performance.
So magnificent it took your breath away.
When that hand emerged from a metal plate as thin as paper, the sound in the entire racecourse stopped dead.
As if someone had hit pause.
The figures on the screen were frozen in their positions, utterly still.
Even the commentators were stunned in their seats.
Microphones in hand, faint, rapid breathing could be heard from within.
Their minds, at that very moment, were completely tied in knots.
If this were a grand magic show, everyone would surely have risen to their feet in applause, genuinely impressed.
A pity.
It wasn't.
A fine rain tapped against the raised umbrellas of the crowd, making a steady pit-a-pat sound.
Mist, hazy and faint, rose in layers with the splashing droplets.
A pale white hand reached back and grasped the edge of the metal signboard.
As if squeezing out of some confining hole that had trapped her body—black, flowing hair, a fair complexion, golden eyes, and that rather iconic, oversized coat.
It swayed gently in the wind.
She appeared.
That ghost who toyed with the Central Association, who treated the rules as nothing, who trampled wantonly on the glory of victory, who had been pushed by public opinion to the forefront of the storm… had appeared once again…
She made no attempt to hide her actions, as if deliberately proclaiming her own existence.
Before the race began, before the starting gate lights flashed, under the gaze of the crowd, under the eyes of over eighty thousand people, she stepped onto the track.
No, that's not right.
How could this be…
Even seeing it with their own eyes, people felt a dreamlike sense of unreality.
Common sense, built up over so many years, crumbled to the ground in an instant.
Just how in the world…
"Heh."
A sound full of mockery escaped the girl's lips.
'All of you, weren't you curious about my identity?'
'Now, I'll give you the answer.'
Fifteen contestants were set for the race.
She slowly bent down.
A familiar pose, making no attempt to conceal her purpose here.
She stood in the sixteenth position.
She's back…
Manhattan Cafe's hands flew to cover her mouth.
Having learned earlier how her 'friend' would make her entrance, she wasn't shocked.
But the other's actions stirred a tidal wave of emotion in Cafe's heart, no less than what the other spectators felt.
Only she knew what that posture truly meant.
Her 'friend' had finally, at this moment, truly returned.
Clang!
The gates flew open.
The race began.
All the Uma Musume burst forth from the stalls at the same instant.
Supple ankles propelled the girl's body forward.
And then.
The world… vanished.
--+--
"Do you believe there are gods in this world?"
"No."
"Then do you believe there are souls in this world?"
The girl fell silent.
"You don't believe in gods, yet you believe in souls. How interesting," the red-haired girl looked at her. "Tell me, how are they different?"
The girl spoke slowly.
"If there really are… gods in this world, then they certainly don't care about me. If that's the case, why should I revere as a god someone who doesn't care about me?"
She hated that word.
Hated those things exalted by the world, placed above oneself.
Even 'god' was like that.
But souls were different.
"My soul will never leave me."
She had managed to live this long solely because this soul had always supported her frail body.
So she would rather believe in souls existing in the world than believe in gods.
She was a discarded child.
No father, no mother.
Exceptionally thin.
Even so, she had relied on herself to get this far.
Her will was stronger than anyone's.
Unbreakable.
"Do you live alone?"
"Yes."
"What's your name?"
"I've refused to answer that before."
"In return, I can tell you my name."
"Not interested."
What a troublesome child…
But it was precisely because of this that this young girl deeply held her attention.
"I saw you running. Does that mean you like it?"
She didn't answer.
After a moment, the girl spoke slowly.
"Why are you telling me stories of the Three Goddesses? Do you think my running style resembles theirs? Whether it's that one called Darley Arabian, or…"
"Shh—"
The other's finger pressed against the girl's lips.
"You mustn't speak the names of the gods directly," she said. "Otherwise, every word you say will be heard by them."
"Mystifying nonsense."
The girl turned her head away.
"Your running form is beautiful. That's why I wanted to know more about you."
"I don't want to be understood by strange people…"
"A strange person. To you, little one, that's certainly true."
The young woman crouched down, looking at her.
"Well then, let me introduce myself first. My name is Eclipse. I am a Racing Uma Musume."
"…Racing Uma Musume?"
"Right, you probably don't know yet. It's a term that just appeared not long ago. Starting with racing, ending with racing—a Uma who dedicates her life to the track."
The girl's eyes widened slightly.
"Even if you don't say it, I know. You love running, don't you? More than anything."
"Running is just my goal, nothing more…"
"Then race against me."
Eclipse spoke.
"If I win, you tell me your name. If I lose…"
The young woman looked at her.
"I'll hand over the title of World's Strongest to you."
After meeting those brilliant emerald eyes for a few seconds, the girl nodded.
"In that case, I'll accept it without any courtesy."
--+--
Inside Kyoto Racecourse, people's eyes were glued to the track.
Their mouths hung open, unable to make a sound.
This is impossible…
This simply can't be!
They kept doubting their own perceptions, suspecting their eyes were playing tricks.
No matter how you looked at it, this didn't seem like something that could happen in reality!
From the metal signboard next to the starting gate, from a spot where there was nothing, an Uma Musume had stepped out.
Hey, hey, hey… you've got to be kidding…
Is this the biggest prank of the year?
Even watching it happen right before their eyes, they simply couldn't believe it!
The cold wind lashed their faces mercilessly.
A chill seeping into their hearts told them they weren't dreaming.
Deep down, they knew.
They had heard. They had seen.
That track outlaw who once sent warning letters, openly provoking the Central Association.
That enemy of the entire Uma Musume racing world.
The Black Ghost.
After nearly a month, she had appeared on the track again.
The difference was, this time it wasn't Tokyo Racecourse, but Kyoto, hundreds of kilometers away.
'Who is she?', 'Is she really a ghost?', 'How did she appear?', 'Came out of the metal?'.
Various questions swirled in their minds.
But then, they could no longer spare a thought for anything else.
As the gates opened, that black Uma Musume moved.
People saw it.
The raindrops hung motionless in mid-air.
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 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.