Carrying the anticipation of a new life and the determination to prove herself, King Halo refused to let up on her journey.
The moment she emerged from Training Mode, she threw herself back into Story Mode without a second thought.
She wouldn't waste a single moment. Giving her all — that was her creed.
It was a personality Training Mode had hammered into her.
Besides, the sooner she entered Story Mode, the sooner she could recover from the mental wear and tear Training Mode had left behind.
As Story Mode began, King Halo's consciousness and memories were reshaped through the process of reincarnation. Her body, while retaining its accumulated energy, regrew in the form of a newborn — the mental fatigue wiped clean, everything reset to pristine condition while the foundation of her character card remained intact, evolving toward a more perfect form.
In this brand new world —
A different King Halo was born!
Thanks to her exceptional bloodline, King Halo had been the object of great expectations from the moment she came into this world. The very name "King Halo" was the family's wish for her future — a hope that she would carry her pedigree to even greater heights.
In the original history, King Halo had no real talent as an uma musume, and her first-rate mother would have spotted that flaw while she was still very young.
But this world was a little different.
Even though her memories had yet to be unsealed and her character card stats hadn't fully manifested, perhaps because her will was simply too strong, King Halo's mindset and perspective were already remarkably mature even before her memories returned.
Not even her mother could see through to King Halo's true talent.
And as she grew older and her character card panel gradually unlocked, the rate at which King Halo was becoming stronger only made it easier for people to mistake her for a genius.
Even her mother, who'd originally had no intention of interfering, couldn't maintain her hands-off stance after seeing how King Halo was developing. She ended up agreeing to serve as her daughter's temporary trainer during her childhood years.
...
At the uma musume training grounds.
King Halo finished her last set of weighted sprints and came to a stop, drenched in sweat, chest heaving.
Behind her, tied by a rope, trailed several tractor tires.
They couldn't compare to the massive tires used by uma musume who'd already matured, but the weight she was hauling was already excessive by elementary schooler standards.
After catching her breath, King Halo got to her feet, ready for another round.
Watching her daughter — soaked in sweat and clearly about to push herself further — her mother couldn't sit still any longer and called out to stop her.
"That's enough, Halo. Training ends here for today."
King Halo pretended not to hear.
But before she could start again, her mother strode over, eyes sharp.
"Did you not hear me?"
"Mother, I don't think I've reached my limit yet. I can keep going."
Young as she was, King Halo's attitude was rock solid. She had no intention of backing down.
"…Fine. Go ahead. But if you keep this up, I'm done supervising you."
Faced with a stubborn daughter, her mother pulled out her trump card: the threat of washing her hands of the whole thing.
Seeing her mother resort to this kind of theatrical leverage again, King Halo's displeasure was written all over her face.
If she'd been able to find a trainer of her own — if she had the confidence to design her own training regimen — she would have declared independence ages ago. But the truth was, for now, she had no way to handle her mother on her own.
"I understand. Please continue to instruct me tomorrow, Mother."
"Mm. That's a good girl."
Seeing King Halo surrender, her mother reached out and affectionately ruffled her daughter's hair. The unhappy pout on King Halo's face only made her smile grow wider — in that moment, her daughter looked just like her father.
Because of her mother's intervention, King Halo couldn't squeeze in the extra session. Training was over for the day.
There were still so many hours left.
But her mother's limited vision was keeping her from making the most of them.
As she walked out of the training grounds, King Halo felt frustrated and unfulfilled. She looked at the sun dipping toward the horizon, dissatisfaction plain in her eyes.
She could feel a powerful force dormant inside her body — and during training, that force flowed out faster. Precocious as she was, she knew this wasn't normal. But a voice deep inside kept telling her that, for her, it was perfectly natural. She was simply reclaiming power that had always belonged to her.
Sometimes, King Halo dreamed strange dreams.
She dreamed she was human, sitting in front of a computer, watching an anime called Uma Musume.
In that anime, she saw "herself" make an appearance.
A minor character. A nobody.
Every line out of her mouth revolved around the word "first-rate."
That "self" was always calling herself a first-rate uma musume. But the haughty posturing was nothing more than thinly veiled insecurity — no one knew better than that "self" that she was no first-rate uma musume at all.
And the plot only confirmed her suspicions.
That "self" devolved into a joke character, reduced to a stepping stone for the protagonist, Special Week.
A prestigious ojou-sama from a noble family, unable to beat a country girl even once.
If she'd at least been a proper villain, that would have been something. But no — that "self" didn't even have the strength to pull off being a villain.
She was just a punchline. Comic relief.
Looking at that version of "herself," King Halo felt nothing.
She didn't know why she was dreaming these things, or whether that "self" even existed. But one thing she knew with absolute certainty:
"She isn't me."
They shared the same birth and the same face — she was practically another version of herself.
But the fact remained: that King Halo could never be her. Because King Halo had never believed in bloodlines to begin with.
At the very least, she'd never felt the slightest boost from her lineage in her own body.
As for the power lying dormant inside her — her instincts told her it had nothing to do with her parentage. It belonged to her and her alone.
Besides that dream, she occasionally dreamed of people she didn't know.
Mejiro McQueen.
Gold Ship.
Tokai Teio.
Rice Shower.
Kitasan Black.
Strangers and yet somehow familiar — they appeared in her dreams one after another, and she watched their lives unfold from a third-person perspective.
Every single one of them was a brilliant, powerful uma musume.
She had a premonition — she would meet them one day. She would run alongside them on the racetrack.
The strength of these future rivals shook her to the core. And with that awareness came pressure.
But the pressure didn't break her will. If anything, it lit a fire in her blood. It made her hunger for what was coming.
She craved more power.
She studied Mejiro McQueen's attitude, imposing strict self-discipline on her diet and daily routine — though her mother was always interfering in this area, insisting that her methods were too extreme, that they'd hurt her growth more than help it.
But what did her mother understand?
That was the strongest training method there was.
Her mother, who'd never reached the summit of the world — merely first-rate — simply didn't have a wide enough perspective.
Yet every time King Halo's disdain leaked through, her mother always caught it.
And then came the childish fallback — pulling family rank to threaten her into submission.
When it came to intuition and petty retaliation, King Halo was willing to crown her mother "the strongest" without contest.
And so, while King Halo gradually reclaimed her power and memories, she looked forward to the future ahead.
...
Outside, a great many people had their eyes on her.
Because King Halo's pedigree truly was dazzling.
Her mother was a seven-time G1 uma musume, and her father had once been the strongest uma musume in the world.
Uma musume could have children with other uma musume — because the Three Goddesses were omnipotent.
Though she'd never met her father, King Halo knew he was an extraordinarily accomplished figure.
With a background like that, of course the outside world was watching her development.
It was the most natural thing imaginable.
Even before her mother had taken over as her trainer, whenever she went to the training grounds alone, crowds would gather to watch her. Parents even pushed their own children forward, hoping to form connections.
If she wanted, she could become the center of attention overnight.
Just like that other "self" she'd seen in her dream — a single wave of her hand and a fan club would assemble around her.
But all of that was meaningless.
None of it would make her stronger.
Dealing with those kinds of things would only waste her time — and her time was precious.
Although her mother limited her training hours, she could also make herself stronger through reading. Her mother's study was full of secret scrolls on racing technique.
Apparently convinced her daughter wouldn't understand them or be able to learn from them, her mother had made no effort to restrict her access to the study.
Studying those scrolls, King Halo kept getting the feeling that she already knew these techniques — that she could execute the running styles recorded in them. But she was careful never to let that slip.
Because she knew that the moment she revealed that, her mother might very well bar her from the study.
King Halo knew her mother was worried about her health.
But she also knew, more deeply, that her body would never break under this level of training.
The dormant memories were unlocking bit by bit as she grew.
They weren't complete yet, but she already understood one thing: she wasn't growing. She was simply reclaiming power that had always been hers.
How could that possibly lead to injury?
But that argument would never convince her mother.
...
And so the days passed, until finally King Halo reached maturity — the day she could officially register as an uma musume. Her mother asked her where she wanted to make her debut.
Ireland, America, France — all excellent options.
Her mother suggested the American branch of Tracen Academy.
But King Halo, rebellious as ever, raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "No. I'm going to Japan."
"…"
Her mother's previously excited ears drooped. She was not happy.
"Japan? That tiny little place?"
In this era, Japan hadn't yet made its mark on the international racing scene.
Even the Emperor — said to have single-handedly saved Japan's uma musume industry — had crashed and burned the moment she took on the international stage.
True, the Emperor's contributions to the uma musume world were monumental. Just discovering, researching, and systematizing the theory of ZONE was enough to etch her name into history.
But that only spoke to her brilliance as a researcher.
As a racer? Second-rate at best.
How could a backwater like that possibly nurture her precious daughter's potential?
If King Halo had been untalented, fine. She might have considered sending her to Japan — after all, that place was a gathering ground for mediocre talent.
But King Halo had real ability.
Her mother genuinely believed her daughter had a shot at challenging her own records.
She had already called in favors from her American contacts. She'd even had King Halo's father put in a word over there.
And now King Halo was telling her she wanted to go to Japan?
Was she joking?
What did the Japanese know about cultivating her daughter's gifts?
"If you want to become a first-rate uma musume, you can't go to a weak place like that!"
Unaware that Japan was on the cusp of an evolution, her mother did everything she could to stop her.
But King Halo knew she had to go to Japan — because it was tied to her Completion Conditions.
Yes. Even before maturity, she had already recovered the entirety of her memories.
She understood her Completion Conditions perfectly:
[Win back every championship you ever lost!]
That was her objective.
Which meant Japan was non-negotiable.
What's more, she knew the truth of this world — the destiny of uma musume lay in Japan.
Even before the [Player] crossed over, Japan's racing industry in that other world had been evolving at breakneck speed. Kitasan Black's prodigious son alone had raised the prestige of Japanese races by more than one tier.
That was all still in the future — but even now, El Condor Pasa and Special Week were formidable competitors.
And Silence Suzuka, whose light was supposed to have been snuffed out far too early.
In the uma musume world, the Emperor's status had been massively elevated.
Under her leadership, Japan's uma musume industry had made enormous breakthroughs.
Later, even Legacy World — the reigning champion of the Arc de Triomphe — would be moved by what she saw. After narrowly defeating El Condor Pasa in competition, she would realize she had underestimated the racers of the world and begin paying serious attention to Japanese-born uma musume.
And this world was a further-upgraded version on top of that.
King Halo could say with certainty that the upcoming races in Japan would be nothing short of intense.
"Mother, my mind is made up."
King Halo's expression didn't waver.
"You can't sway me the way you used to anymore."
"…"
Her mother's face was grim.
She truly couldn't understand what her daughter was thinking.
"Fine. Do as you please. But don't expect me to support this decision!"
Without her mother's backing, King Halo came to Japan on her own.
The Japanese Uma Musume Association and Tracen Academy welcomed her with open arms. She knew the future trajectory of Japanese uma musume racing — but at this moment, the industry here was genuinely underdeveloped, which meant they were eager to bring in international pedigree.
Her enrollment went off without a hitch.
Not a single obstacle in sight.