Chapter 114. Hokuto Vega BCD Part 2
As they were about to enter the final straight of Santa Anita Park Racecourse, the grandstand looming vast and golden under the California sun, Shuta An looked at Hollywood Wildcat, who was half a horse-length ahead of Hokuto Vega, and a smile played on his lips.
You wouldn't actually think you could shake off Hokuto Vega, would you?
the young man muttered inwardly, wind roaring past his ears as the dirt track blurred beneath them.
Seizing the moment Hokuto Vega's four limbs fully entered the final straight, Shuta An drew out his whip.
Instead of swinging it widely, he gently flickered it to the left side of Hokuto Vega's head, the motion crisp and precise against the churn of hooves and dust surrounding them. Receiving the signal from the whip, Hokuto Vega instinctively began her sprint, muscles rippling beneath her dark coat as she surged forward.
"Hokuto Vega starts to accelerate! Excellent reaction!" The live commentator's voice cracked with excitement, immediately noticing the change in her condition.
By the trackside, Nakano Takayoshi clenched the railing with both hands, the metal cool and slick beneath his palms, already a bit unsteady on his feet.
Mori Shigeru wasn't much better, his legs also trembling, his eyes fixed unblinking on the churning field ahead.
And the once confident Eddie quickly turned grim. In his peripheral vision, Shuta An and Hokuto Vega chased with incredible speed, dirt spraying in dark arcs behind them, effortlessly erasing the lead Hollywood Wildcat had gained by accelerating early.
After confirming that Hokuto Vega had perfectly entered her sprint, Shuta An simply gripped the whip in a reverse hold again, dedicating himself entirely to pushing, no longer considering whipping.
Pouring all the strength from his waist into his arms, synchronizing his breathing rhythm with Hokuto Vega's — each exhale timed to the pounding rhythm of her stride — constantly pulling the reins and then pressing down on her nape in time with her running rhythm, sweat already beading along his brow despite the cool rush of wind—
All these actions were to make Hokuto Vega run more easily.
Meanwhile, Eddie cracked the whip several times, the sharp sound cutting through the roar of the crowd.
Hollywood Wildcat did pick up some speed due to the pain, her ears pinned flat, but it still couldn't compare to Hokuto Vega.
Eddie's pushing effort decreased significantly while whipping, essentially letting his partner do more of the work. This was still hard to compare to Shuta An's state of going all out with Hokuto Vega, every muscle in his body straining in perfect concert with hers.
"It looks like the outcome is decided."
Although the gap between Hokuto Vega and Hollywood Wildcat hadn't yet widened to more than one horse-length, Mott was confident that the scales of victory had completely tipped towards Shuta An, watching from the stands with arms folded.
I hope he can ride Fraise like this in the Turf Classic later, he thought, the noise of the crowd swelling around him.
If he could make Fraise achieve consecutive victories, that would be even more wonderful.
Meanwhile, Nakano Takayoshi was now fully focused, watching Hokuto Vega's increasingly clear figure cut through the dust and glare of the afternoon light, and he stood up straight, spine rigid with anticipation.
"GO!"
Fujii Stableman only dared to cheer for Hokuto Vega in a low voice because he was surrounded by "important people," the word barely audible beneath the swelling roar of the grandstand.
The spectators in the grandstand behind didn't care about that. When they saw Hokuto Vega, the hottest big star in California's Racehorse world recently, gradually shaking off all opponents and reaching the front of the pack, the audience became much more excited, a wave of noise rolling down from the stands like thunder.
"TAKE DOWN EDDIE! ASIAN GUY!"
Many of the people involved standing by the trackside could hear such shouts, carried on the wind alongside the smell of trampled dirt and sun-baked grandstand concrete.
Hollywood Wildcat's Trainer, Neil Drysdale, had a dark face listening to the crowd.
This was supposedly his home turf, yet now the audience behind him was all supporting Shuta An.
He could only console himself,
Who told that guy to bring a Triple Crown Horse to the West Coast a few years ago? It's normal for him to be popular now.
—
Shuta An didn't know this; his mind was completely focused on pushing Hokuto Vega to the finish line, the world narrowing to nothing but the pounding of hooves, the rush of air, and the growing white line ahead.
With 100 meters left to the finish line, Hokuto Vega barely pulled ahead of Hollywood Wildcat by more than a horse length, after receiving a continuous barrage of powerful whip strokes, her breath coming in hard, controlled bursts.
As for the opponents further behind, none of them could catch up, their silhouettes falling away into a blur of color and motion.
"As expected, most of the time on American dirt, you have to actively move forward and take position; trying to catch up from behind is too difficult. This time, Shuta again made the most correct tactical choice,"
André Fabre nodded repeatedly, watching the race unfold with the calm satisfaction of a man whose predictions kept proving right.
In that case, perhaps Arcangues also has a chance? His heart trembled at the thought. If Arcangues can win, it would definitely be making history.
Regardless of André Fabre's musings about the Breeders' Cup Classic result, Shuta An glanced over his shoulder when 20 meters remained to the finish line, the wind tearing at his silks, confirming that all opponents were unable to catch him.
He first clenched his fist, then swung his whip towards the inside of the Racecourse, then squeezed the horse's flanks with his legs, straightened his body, and threw a punch towards the VIP area by the side of the Racecourse, the gesture sharp and triumphant against the roar of the crowd.
"Hokuto Vega crosses the line first! Undefeated Triple Crown, Oaks horse, none are her match!"
The live commentator shouted dryly, his voice hoarse from the effort, hesitating for a moment before continuing,
"The biggest controversy for this year's Eclipse Award might just appear!"
"Indeed,"
Mott muttered softly, the noise of the crowd beginning to settle into an excited murmur around him,
"Best Three-Year-Old mare, will it be Sky Beauty, or Hokuto Vega? By performance, it's Sky Beauty, but Sky Beauty's performance in this Breeders' Cup Distaff—"
At this point, Sky Beauty and Mike E. Smith had just crossed the finish line, dust settling slowly around them in the golden afternoon light.
"She was left far behind by Hokuto Vega,"
Nakano Takayoshi sighed, rubbing his forehead, the tension finally draining from his shoulders,
"If we had known earlier that Hokuto Vega had such talent on dirt, we really should have considered challenging the American Triple Tiara for fillies."
"But even Shuta-kun wasn't sure about that, was he?"
Mori Shigeru was more open-minded, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
"Compared to that, how much is the prize money for the win?"
"Converted to Japanese Yen, it's about 57 million," Nakano Takayoshi had calculated it once before, the number ready on his tongue. "It's lower than the Queen Elizabeth Cup, but higher than all domestic dirt races."
"That's still a pretty good haul," Mori Shigeru was satisfied, watching the celebration unfold on the track below.
"At least all the investments from this period have been recovered with a surplus."
"The winning prize money for the Breeders' Cup Classic is about 171 million Yen,"
Nakano Takayoshi added, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"Next year, I think we can let Hokuto Vega challenge that."
Although the gender-based strength difference in dirt races is more pronounced than in turf races, this prize money difference was enough to tempt Nakano Takayoshi.
"Good idea, but we'll have to see what Shuta-kun says."
Mori Shigeru now trusted the young man who was being interviewed on the Racecourse more than Nakano Takayoshi's words, his gaze drifting toward the small crowd of reporters gathering trackside.
"Whew—"
After finishing the interview, Shuta An, returning to the underground passage with Hokuto Vega, let out a long breath, the cool shade of the tunnel a welcome relief after the heat and noise of the track.
With this, the clue fragments for Hokuto Vega should be all collected, he mused, listening to the soft, rhythmic clop of her hooves against the concrete beside him.
Next week, I'll return to Japan to ride Vega in the Queen Elizabeth Cup. Winning that will unlock all the clue fragments, and then I should figure out how to invite that Uma Musume to join my team.
Shuta An was quite confident about this. He didn't think any free Uma Musume without a team at the current Central Tracen Academy could resist an invitation from Team Sadalsuud.
(Just a reminder, Triple Tiara back then didn't have Shuka Sho as the final leg but QEC.)