Chapter 66. One Trick Pony, Conquering the World (Part 1)
On August 18th, the first day of the Ebor Festival arrived, and with it, the race day of the British International Stakes.
The atmosphere at York Racecourse had already reached a festive peak from early morning. As part of the opening ceremony, last year's champion, Singspiel, appeared on the track, drawing waves of applause from the crowd. The cheers were not merely polite—they carried recognition, memory, and expectation, all intertwined in a way that only a historic stage like this could produce.
Standing alone by the floor-to-ceiling window of the private Box, Shuta An watched the ceremony in silence. His gaze followed the movements on the track, but his thoughts had already moved one step ahead.
"If Suzuka wins today—" he murmured quietly, almost as if testing the idea in his mind, "then next year, she'll be the one standing there."
The thought did not linger long.
He shifted his attention back to the present.
Mejiro Dober would race the following day, so she had remained at the hotel to focus on her final adjustments. There was no need for her to expend energy today, and Shuta An had agreed with that arrangement without hesitation. As for himself, he had come alone to York Racecourse, intending to observe everything firsthand.
Today's schedule consisted of seven races. Among them, the Acomb Stakes and the Lonsdale Cup had already concluded, leaving only the main event—the International Stakes—before him. Once that race was over and Silence Suzuka completed her winning live, there would be no need to stay longer. They could return to the hotel and conserve their energy for the following day.
The plan was simple.
Clean.
And entirely focused on efficiency.
—
The British URA Association had arranged a private Box for him as expected.
Compared to the hotel, the interior here was noticeably more luxurious. The decor, the seating, even the small details in the arrangement all reflected a level of refinement that was difficult to ignore. In Shuta An's mind, it was only slightly inferior to the Box at Meydan Racecourse in Dubai, and far more elaborate than anything he had seen in Japan.
"They certainly know how to spend money on appearances," he muttered under his breath.
His gaze moved slowly across the room before settling back on the track outside.
"But when it comes to prize money and treatment—that's a different story."
There was no need to hide his dissatisfaction. Even as an outsider, the imbalance was obvious enough to leave a bad impression.
—
The weather in Yorkshire had been unusually stable over the past few days. Continuous clear skies had left the track dry and firm, and although the URA Association had instructed the staff to water the grass, the response had been lukewarm at best.
After inspecting the course, the staff had reached a quiet consensus.
"There's still enough moisture," one had said. "Watering now would just be a waste."
So they postponed it.
No urgency.
No resistance.
And no real consequences.
The management of York Racecourse did not intervene either. Their authority remained largely independent, and the URA Association's influence, in practice, extended only as far as verbal instructions.
"This is exactly the problem," Shuta An thought, his expression remaining unchanged. "Too many layers. Not enough control."
It only reinforced what he had already concluded earlier. Even if he were placed at the top—changing this system would not be simple.
—
After the earlier races concluded, the staff began preparing for the International Stakes.
At the same time, Silence Suzuka stepped out from the underground passage and entered the garden area that served as York's version of the parade ring. Unlike in Japan, there was no need for deliberate posing. Simply walking through was enough to draw the attention of the crowd.
The cheers rose naturally as she passed.
"This is different," she thought quietly, her steps steady as she moved forward.
Compared to Japan.
Compared to America.
This atmosphere carried its own unique character.
"It's good to see it in person," she continued inwardly. "Otherwise, things like this would only exist on a screen."
As she exited the garden, she felt a familiar presence.
Turning her head slightly, she saw him.
Shuta An stood at a distance, raising his hand in a simple gesture.
Silence Suzuka's lips curved into a faint smile.
"As expected," she thought, lifting her own hand in response.
There was no need for words.
They understood.
She turned her gaze forward again.
"He'll be there as always," she thought, her steps steady. "And I'll win in front of him."
—
Because of her position in gate 2, Silence Suzuka entered the starting gate later in the sequence.
The interior space felt noticeably wider than what she was accustomed to in Japan. For a brief moment, the difference in scale gave her a strange sensation, as if her own presence had diminished within it.
"Is it just me?" she thought, glancing briefly to either side.
Her opponents stood in place, their builds varying, their presence steady. She looked down at herself, her expression shifting for just a moment before she straightened again.
"It doesn't matter," she told herself. "This isn't about appearance."
She tightened her grip slightly.
"And besides—I've already received everything I need."
The thought steadied her.
Her focus returned.
—
Not far away, Faithful Son observed her quietly.
She had studied Silence Suzuka's previous races and understood her tendencies. A front-runner, aggressive, decisive—those traits were not difficult to identify.
"If she wants the lead—" Faithful Son thought, her gaze steady, "then I'll let her take it."
There was no hesitation in that decision.
Her Trainer had already given clear instructions.
There was no advantage in contesting the lead early, especially on a course like York. If Silence Suzuka chose to push the pace, then the burden would fall on her to sustain it.
"All I need to do is run my own race," she concluded.
The confidence came naturally.
"If she wants to force the pace—she'll pay for it later."
(Strange~ it was as if in every Suzuka's international races—her opponents and their trainers are deliberately think that Suzuka doesn't have the capacity to run fast-paced in their soil. Is it for plot win? Or does escapist just lack that influences?)
—
The final horse entered the gate.
A brief stillness followed.
Then—
Without warning, the gates opened.
There was no drawn-out signal, no gradual build-up.
Only a sharp release.
But Silence Suzuka was already prepared.
The instant the gate moved, she surged forward, her body reacting before thought could intervene. Her slender frame gave her an immediate advantage, allowing her to slip through the opening before it had fully widened.
The response from the crowd came instantly.
"Fast—!"
She did not slow.
Using that initial momentum, she surged ahead of Faithful Son, then cut cleanly toward the rail. The movement was precise, leaving no space for hesitation.
Behind her, Faithful Son adjusted. But instead of accelerating to contest the lead, she settled.
"If you want it, take it," she thought calmly.
Her pace stabilized. "I'll run my race."
The layout of the International Stakes required the runners to enter a gently curving section shortly after the start, but unlike the sharper bends found at many other racecourses, this arc did not significantly disrupt a runner's balance or force them to waste stamina maintaining footing. The curvature was mild, and the surface remained stable even under acceleration, which meant that a front-runner could increase speed here without suffering the usual penalties associated with turning.
Because of that, Silence Suzuka did not hesitate once she secured the lead.
From the moment she moved ahead of Faithful Son, she made the conscious decision not to maintain a conservative gap. Instead, she chose to increase her pace further, her stride lengthening as she leaned into the bend.
From her perspective, allowing an opponent to remain within a controllable distance at this stage would only create unnecessary complications later, and there was no advantage in leaving such a margin unchallenged.
Even if Faithful Son had chosen not to immediately contest the lead, that did not mean Suzuka would respond by easing her pace. Her approach had always been consistent—if there was an opportunity to expand the gap early, she would take it without hesitation.
As she accelerated through the curve, the distance behind her began to stretch.
—
"Silence Suzuka has taken the lead cleanly!" the commentator's voice rang out across the racecourse, his tone carrying a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Faithful Son does not respond to the challenge and instead maintains her position, choosing not to engage in an early contest."
"But look at Suzuka's pace," the co-commentator added, his attention drawn to the growing gap. "She is not content with a minimal advantage. The distance between her and Faithful Son is widening with each stride."
"She is known for her high-speed front-running tactics," the first commentator continued. "Even here in Europe, she shows no intention of altering that approach."
—
From his position near the rail, Shuta An watched the development with quiet focus.
"They're already framing it that way," he thought, his gaze fixed on the large screen. "As if maintaining her style is a flaw."
He folded his arms slightly, his expression calm but not entirely pleased.
"If they can't handle her pace, why should she change for them?" he murmured to himself. "It's not as if front-running has never succeeded here."
The underlying bias was difficult to ignore, and he was aware that such perceptions would not disappear easily.
"At least this is the real world," he continued inwardly. "In the Dream World, they might not even bother hiding it."
The thought passed quickly, replaced by renewed attention on the race.
—
By the time the runners exited the first bend, Silence Suzuka had already covered nearly three hundred meters and established a clear lead of approximately five lengths over Faithful Son.
From an outside perspective, the gap appeared significant, but Faithful Son herself did not react with urgency.
"She's pushing hard," Faithful Son thought, her breathing steady as she maintained her chosen rhythm. "At this pace, she won't be able to sustain it indefinitely."
Her confidence was rooted in preparation. Before the race, her Trainer had made it clear that engaging Suzuka early would be counterproductive. Allowing her to expend energy while maintaining a stable pace would create a more favorable situation in the latter stages of the race.
With that in mind, Faithful Son resisted the instinct to accelerate.
"I'll run my race," she decided, keeping her stride controlled and consistent.
—
However, as the race progressed, a subtle change began to emerge.
"She's still increasing her speed…" Faithful Son noted, her attention sharpening slightly. The transition from the bend into the long straight opposite the stands did not bring any visible reduction in Suzuka's pace.
Instead, the distance appeared to grow even further.
For a brief moment, doubt surfaced.
"Am I letting her get too far ahead?"
Despite that thought, she held to her plan.
"Trainer's judgment is correct," she reminded herself.
Using the momentum from the curve, she glanced briefly behind her, checking the position of the next runner.
The result was immediate.
"That's too far."
Chester House, who should have been within a manageable distance, had already fallen nearly two lengths behind her.
That was not normal.
Under ordinary conditions, the spacing between them would not have widened so quickly.
"I've been pulled into her pace."
The realization came clearly, and with it, the source of the problem. Without intending to, she had already increased her speed beyond her usual rhythm.
Recognizing this, Faithful Son adjusted immediately. She reduced her stride just enough to stabilize her pace, preventing further unnecessary expenditure of stamina.
"I can't let her dictate the race for me," she thought, reasserting control.
—
In the Box, Faithful Son's Trainer noticed the adjustment and allowed himself a quiet breath of relief.
"She caught it in time," he thought. "As long as she returns to her own rhythm, the situation remains manageable."
From his perspective, the race was still unfolding as expected.
No matter how aggressive Suzuka's early pace might be, sustaining it across the entire distance would be difficult on European turf.
—
Meanwhile, Shuta An observed the same sequence from a different angle.
"This is exactly what we need," he thought, his expression softening slightly as he followed Suzuka's movement.
The conditions were ideal. The track had remained dry for several consecutive days, and the decision to delay watering had only made it faster.
"On this kind of surface, her strengths become even more pronounced," he noted.
As Silence Suzuka entered the long straight opposite the stands, she became fully aware of the terrain beneath her. The ground was even firmer than she had anticipated, and the stability allowed her to maintain a consistent rhythm without unnecessary adjustments.
For a brief moment, a stray thought surfaced, but she dismissed it immediately.
Her focus returned to the race.
She increased her pace again.
Behind her, Faithful Son's attempt to stabilize her rhythm did not escape her notice.
"She's trying to hold back," Suzuka thought.
The situation reminded her of previous races where opponents had made similar decisions, choosing to conserve energy rather than engage early.
"They all made the same choice," she recalled. "And they all fell behind."
The difference in racecourse length did not concern her. Even though York's straight was longer, her confidence remained unchanged.
"In terms of finishing speed, they are not stronger than Teio," she concluded.
That comparison alone was enough to anchor her belief.
—
She had tested this before.
With Tokai Teio.
Under full effort, Teio could close a two-second gap over a long straight. That meant that if Suzuka could create sufficient distance before the final phase, she could maintain her advantage.
"Then I just need to make that gap large enough," she thought.
The calculation formed naturally.
The distance required might be significant, but the current conditions made it possible.
"They're cooperating," she realized, her focus sharpening further.
Faithful Son's decision to hold back had created exactly the scenario she needed.
"In that case, I won't hold back either."
Her breathing aligned.
Her stride adjusted.
Her body moved closer to its limit.
"I'll go further."
The decision was made without hesitation.
—
At that point, something changed.
Her perception narrowed, her awareness sharpening into a single, continuous line that extended forward along the track.
The noise of the surroundings faded.
The presence of other runners diminished.
Only the path ahead remained.
—
Far behind, Faithful Son felt it.
A sudden, inexplicable tension.
Her rhythm remained steady, yet something within her awareness had shifted.
"What is this?"
She glanced behind her, searching for the source.
Nothing had changed there.
Which left only one possibility.
"Silence Suzuka."
But the nature of that change remained unclear to her.
—
Near the rail, Shuta An's expression shifted.
A faint smile appeared, subtle but unmistakable.
"She's already made her judgment," he thought.
The timing was clear. The intent was unmistakable.
"She doesn't see them as opponents anymore."
Activating the Zone at this stage meant that Suzuka had already decided the direction of the race. From her perspective, there was no need to wait for the final stretch.
"She intends to end it early."
The thought settled quietly in his mind. And with that understanding, he no longer needed to analyze further. Because from that moment onward, the race had already begun to move toward its conclusion.