"Kitasan Black!"
The chant rose from the stands, fans who had traveled from every corner of the world roaring her name in unison.
The local Parisians watched the scene unfold, visibly stunned.
"So that's the one the International Uma Musume Association ranks as the strongest of this generation..."
Compared to the thunderous support for Kitasan Black, the cheers for the runner-up were strangely muted.
Though the online popularity polls still placed the famous young lady of prestigious lineage — Found — at the very top, the actual fans who had filled the stands today were overwhelmingly Kitasan Black's supporters.
It was an almost surreal phenomenon.
A few spectators cast sympathetic glances toward Found.
And at that moment, the young lady's own expression was heavy.
...
Venus Paques and Legacy World stood mixed in among the crowd, their eyes fixed on the racers emerging onto the track below — particularly on the girl called Kitasan Black.
"So that's the Kita-chan who defeated Orfevre... She really hasn't awakened ZONE yet..."
Venus Paques' voice carried open astonishment.
At first she'd assumed the reports were false. She'd been certain Kitasan Black had long since awakened that power and was simply choosing not to display it during races. But no — Kitasan Black genuinely had not awakened ZONE.
Internationally, ZONE wasn't treated as the ultimate weapon the way it was in Japan, but the world's top racing circles still recognized it as a universally acknowledged threshold. ZONE might not be the strongest tool available to a runner, but every truly strongest uma musume had mastered it without exception.
Kitasan Black's record was so absurd that without seeing it firsthand, no one would believe she hadn't awakened ZONE. But as a racer who had already reached that realm herself, Venus Paques could say with certainty: Kitasan Black had not entered that domain. Not now, not yet.
And precisely because of that, she was shaken to her core.
It was nearly impossible to imagine Orfevre losing to a junior who hadn't even awakened ZONE — and losing not to some fluke or misfortune, but being utterly, comprehensively dismantled.
Venus Paques had watched the footage of those races. She knew Orfevre had given everything. There had been no sandbagging.
Kitasan Black was simply that strong.
And Kitasan Black was still in her growth period. She hadn't even touched ZONE yet.
Venus Paques couldn't imagine how far this junior might climb. No — the real question was whether any opponent, any race left on this earth, could still force Kitasan Black to grow at all.
"She's a monster."
Even Legacy World couldn't hold back the assessment.
No ZONE, and yet her presence burned that intensely. Simply meeting Kitasan Black's gaze was enough to stir the wild, primal instinct of a uma musume into something very close to fear.
Many others shared the same thought. The entire world was watching this race.
...
In front of televisions around the globe, Satono Crown and the others watched the broadcast. The chants, the cameras tracking Kitasan Black's every step — the sheer weight of the official coverage made it clear that even the race organizers themselves had placed their hopes on her.
By tradition, that kind of spotlight belonged to the popularity leader. But this time, the sheer scale of Kitasan Black's demonstrated strength had eclipsed even the poll numbers.
Even the officials had unconsciously decided that the protagonist of this race was Kitasan Black, not the poll-topping Found. The latter was a world-class talent in her own right — but next to Kitasan Black, even her brilliance paled.
The moment Kitasan Black entered the paddock, Found's eyes snapped to her.
She had been the world's celebrated prodigy. Then Kitasan Black had appeared out of nowhere and stolen every last ray of light.
Her popularity score still edged above Kitasan Black's — but popularity wasn't a measure of strength, and it wasn't going to push her rating past Kitasan Black's in the Association's eyes. Idol-type uma musume could pull in terrifying popularity numbers, after all, and no one seriously claimed they had world-class ability. Found wasn't foolish enough to think being the popularity leader meant she was stronger than Kitasan Black.
She had studied the footage of Kitasan Black's races in Japan.
And after watching them, only one thought remained.
This girl is a monster.
Even her trainer had said as much — that Kitasan Black's talent surpassed history itself. He had told her to simply enjoy the race. He had said, outright, that she couldn't beat Kitasan Black.
Remembering the look on her trainer's face, Found's fists clenched.
She trusted his judgment. But the burn in her chest, the refusal to accept it — that hadn't been reasoned away. Pushing it down only made it harder to bear.
She didn't want to just enjoy the race.
A fierce resolve flared in Found's eyes.
She knew the odds were slim. She knew victory was almost impossible.
She was going to challenge her anyway.
...
With that, the young lady strode up to Kitasan Black.
"Let us have a race to remember," Found said in English.
Kitasan Black glanced at her, her expression flat.
"That's not possible."
The cold reply drove through Found's chest like a blade.
That dismissive look — as if the race hadn't even begun and she had already been written off as the loser.
Watching Kitasan Black's back as she walked toward the starting gate, Found bit down on her lip hard.
She doesn't even consider me worth her attention?
A distorted, half-crazed smile spread across her face.
Fine.
Then let me hunt the monster.
I'll force you to look at me. I will. I promise you.
Found's fighting spirit maxed out, and the pressure of ZONE bloomed around her in full force.
A few of the other racers, taking it as a provocation aimed at them, released their own auras in response.
The next moment they realized Found's eyes were locked on Kitasan Black — and no one else.
These two...
The irritation rippled through the rest of the pack. Was being the popularity first and second place really so special? Treating the rest of them like they weren't even in the race?
This isn't your one-on-one duel!
Found and Kitasan Black's behavior had successfully annoyed every other competitor on the track.
By the time Satono Diamond and Happy Meek walked into the venue, the atmosphere pressing down over the track had turned suffocatingly heavy.
Happy Meek flinched and took a few steps back in shock.
So this is the Arc de Triomphe...
It was only when she saw Satono Diamond walking forward with perfect composure that she managed to gather herself.
The announcers' introductions for the two of them were brief — just their origin, bib number, and name. The treatment reserved for runners no one expected to contend.
Which was understandable. They had qualified right at the cutoff. In other words, they were pacer material for this race. No one expected them to pull off the upset of the century.
Right before stepping into her gate, Satono Diamond cast a long look at Kitasan Black's stall.
At last...
At last, I get to stand on the same track as Kitasan-senpai!
Just the thought was enough to make her heart pound.
Racing alongside Kitasan-senpai — and at the Arc de Triomphe, of all places. The race she had dreamed of for so long!
It felt like a dream.
Satono Diamond felt, in that moment, like her dream had already come true.
But as she stepped into the gate, another thought took shape. If — just if — she could manage to run ahead of Kitasan-senpai, even for a heartbeat...
Would she finally see her? Really see her?
She had only wanted to get closer to Kitasan-senpai. But maybe that wasn't enough. Maybe she was greedier than she realized.
Can I do it?
I want to do it.
Satono Diamond made up her mind.
Even if only for an instant — she was going to run ahead of Kitasan-senpai.
...
"On this world's greatest stage, sixteen racers will now show us their brilliance!"
"Longchamp, 2400 meters, the Arc de Triomphe — the race begins now!"
The bell rang. The gates flew open. All sixteen runners launched off the starting line.
The Arc de Triomphe's straightaways ran long. Few slopes, gentle turns — a course designed to let each racer show their full ability.
Under normal circumstances, a track like this was easy to run.
But when every opponent on that course was world-class, the experience changed completely. On a track like this, tactics counted for little. Only a true top-tier runner could win it all. For a weaker runner to topple a stronger one — to pull off a miraculous upset — was a miracle among miracles.
"And the first to break away is..."
The moment the gates opened, the announcer began his usual opening call.
Before he could finish, a figure wreathed in dazzling light burst from the inside rail, tearing past the rest of the field with terrifying acceleration. The race for the lead was decided before the announcer even reached the end of his sentence.
"The first to break away is Kitasan Black! True to her reputation as the strongest front-runner, her starting speed is in a class of its own — less than one hundred meters out of the gate and she's already seized the lead!"
Watching that figure rocket to the front in a single instant, the other runners' faces darkened.
That start speed —
Before they could process it, they saw the light beneath Kitasan Black's feet flicker out and then ignite again in the same breath. The gap stretched open in an eye-blink.
What?
Rapid-fire Flash skills?
At the gate, she was already chaining skill combos of that magnitude?
A single thought echoed across the pack.
Trouble. Serious trouble.
This racer wasn't in the same weight class as them.
Kitasan Black didn't spare a thought for what the others were thinking. She was simply feeling out her own rhythm — and with each successive race, her ability had grown a little past where it had started.
The peak of the world was where the others stopped. It was where she began to evolve.
It wasn't that she didn't want to respect her opponents. It was that she couldn't.
She genuinely couldn't feel the slightest pressure from any of them.
But that fact didn't please her. Because when it came down to it, this wasn't her own strength. It was borrowed. Until the day she could outrun the senpai whose skills she'd inherited, she would never truly love racing.
Her heart weighed heavy.
It made no difference to her form.
She slipped, completely naturally, into Flow. The track beneath her feet began to glow. Body and mind melted into the race itself.
The landscape ahead was beautiful.
Kitasan Black's heart was untouched by any of it. Her consciousness sank deeper and deeper, until she was running like an empty shell — charging toward the finish line with a void where passion ought to have been.
There was no dream in her stride, no fire. Those things were only bubbles, fragile and transparent.
While Kitasan Black sank into her own rhythm, the announcer's voice cracked with excitement.
"Incredible! Kitasan Black has gone for a full Breakaway run on this stage — and she's making it work!"
The most dazzling running style on the world's highest stage — that took a degree of confidence that bordered on madness. Only a racer who was utterly certain of victory, who simply did not count her opponents as opponents, would dare use Breakaway tactics at the Arc de Triomphe.
The runners behind her watched that receding figure with growing dread.
A moment of inattention — and she was already out of range of any interference skill. Anyone who wanted to disrupt her now would first have to catch up.
But that was the problem.
They couldn't catch up.
The speed was absurd. Did she not even need to breathe? From the moment she broke from the gate she had been at full throttle, skill after skill chained with no real break in between.
Was something like that actually possible?
The fighting spirit Found had carried into the race began to waver violently.
This is Kitasan Black's real strength?
Was this what my trainer saw?
She knew Kitasan Black raced this way. She'd watched the footage. But in the earlier races, Kitasan Black hadn't been running quite this outrageously, and besides, the course here was different from the tracks in Japan.
So why didn't any of it affect her in the slightest?
Satono Diamond, who had harbored ambitions of her own going in, now felt ashamed of her own naivety.
She should have known from the start. The idea of running ahead of Kitasan-senpai was a fantasy.
"One thousand meters in, and Kitasan Black shows no sign of slowing!"
The announcer had known Kitasan Black was strong. He had watched the tapes. And yet, watching her in person now, he was still shaken. She genuinely wasn't losing any speed at all — sustaining a full sprint pace all the way toward the finish line.
"No way — is Kita-chan going to hold the Outside record even at the Arc?"
Even her own fans were getting rattled.
They knew she had a habit of finishing with a massive gap to second. But this was the Arc de Triomphe. The world's greatest race. Was it really possible to finish with an Outside-placing margin here?
Before today, no one would have seriously entertained the idea.
But now, watching the race unfold, watching the second-place runner ten lengths back and dropping —
No one doubted it anymore. In fact, they were already begging for it.
"Don't kid yourself!"
At the 1500-meter mark, Found opened up her sprint.
Being distanced like this was something she absolutely could not accept. She could admit Kitasan Black was stronger. She could admit there was no real hope of winning. But being finished off with a massive gap margin — being lapped into irrelevance — she refused.
And yet the despair only deepened.
Kitasan Black's skill pool hadn't been depleted at all.
The monster was still accelerating.
Found poured everything into her sprint. She managed to stretch six lengths between herself and third place.
And then the final stretch came.
The distance to Kitasan Black had not closed. On the contrary — it had widened. Fourteen lengths, and growing.
Found glared at the figure in front of her, features twisted.
Impossible.
This can't be happening.
But Kitasan Black cared nothing for her agonies. The light beneath her feet blazed on.
In a stadium that had fallen silent, Kitasan Black crossed the finish line holding her massive gap.
The announcer's voice stuttered.
"She — she crosses the line!"
"Kitasan Black — Kitasan Black wins by an outside margin!"
The stadium erupted.
And beneath that thunderous, feverish roar, Kitasan Black's eyes went dim.
She had just triggered the sensation of Story Mode completion.
...
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