In the cafeteria, King Halo was having lunch at the same table as Haru Urara and the others.
She listened quietly to her classmates' conversation, only speaking when someone asked her a question directly. She made no attempt to steer the discussion herself. It might have looked like she didn't fit in, but the truth was simpler — she just didn't know what to say.
Cosmetics and clothes? She understood them well enough, but honestly, she had no real interest in any of it. Her own wardrobe and makeup were all chosen by her mother, and she trusted her mother's eye — the woman was, after all, a senior fashion designer. Unless a classmate specifically asked for her opinion, she had no reason to volunteer one.
As for the current state of Japanese racing — that was an even thornier subject. Was she supposed to just blurt out to her classmates that Japanese races were pathetically weak right now? However she phrased it, saying something like that would make her look unbearably arrogant. But it wasn't her being petty, either. Japan's races really were weak at the moment.
The previous generation's titans had just stepped off the stage, and the prodigies who would eventually break through the stagnation hadn't debuted yet. The entire Japanese uma musume scene was in a trough. That was precisely why Symboli Rudolf had allowed her and that Fukunaga trainer to bypass the entrance exam — the situation was so dire that Rudolf would grasp at any thread that might pull them out of it.
El Condor Pasa, currently still training in America, had already been signed by Symboli Rudolf and Tojo Hana. Unlike real-world racing, uma musume had no such thing as breeding. Uma musume weren't born with national allegiance, so every country's committee regularly dispatched scouts abroad to hunt down prodigies in other territories.
El Condor Pasa, the American-born prodigy, was the Symboli family's secret weapon for this cycle.
As for her origins? Uma musume weren't judged by where they were born. Whichever country a racer represented was the country she belonged to. But compared to the world of real racing, the Symboli family had clearly paid a considerable price to secure El Condor Pasa. Exactly what that price was, King Halo wasn't in a position to know.
As for King Halo herself — she had come to Japan on her own. Both her current self and her original template, for that matter. Though the original had done so out of desperation. The original's ability had been too weak; her mother had bluntly told her she had no talent for being an uma musume, and that was why the original had come to Japan to race.
Mother hadn't realized that Japan was about to enter a golden era. Prodigies were about to rise one after another, and the original had stumbled right into the teeth of that coming storm. Mother had also never guessed that the "noble-born" trainer assigned to her daughter — the so-called heir of a prestigious lineage — was a complete fraud who couldn't even properly read the original's ability or running aptitude.
In that infamous press interview, the original and her trainer had openly declared they would win the Classic Triple Crown. Mother, watching it live on television, must have nearly lost her mind.
That was why, from then on, Mother had never had a kind word for that trainer.
In Mother's view, if that fool hadn't bungled everything, the original would never have ended up in such a miserable state.
The original had lacked the talent to become a first-rate uma musume, true — but in a backwater like Japan at the moment, her ability honestly wasn't bad. The monsters of the next generation hadn't been born yet; the overall level of competition hadn't yet climbed to what it would become. If the original had played conservatively and stuck to her natural distance, winning a few GI titles had been genuinely within reach.
After all, Japan's current sprint division had no real heavyweights.
Sprint races were looked down on in Japan these days, sure — but a GI was still a GI. That wave really had been the trainer's fault. And wasn't the original's final GI victory won on a sprint course anyway?
If the trainer had actually pushed the original past her natural limits and taken a mid-to-long distance GI at the end, that would be one story. But after wasting all that time bouncing around, circling back to sprints in the end?
That was just sad.
Which was why King Halo had no intention of becoming that trainer's charge.
Even if that guy was destined to be the protagonist of the game's second main storyline.
Even if she were confident enough to take on the world's strongest with nothing but a bottle of mineral water as her trainer, she'd never lower herself to accept a failure like that. And she wasn't without needs when it came to trainers, either — she genuinely wanted to grow stronger. That meant she genuinely hoped to find a trainer worthy of the task.
Just as everyone finished their lunch and Urara and another classmate volunteered to fetch drinks and desserts, a middle-aged man approached their table. Under the collective gaze of everyone present, he addressed King Halo directly.
"Miss King Halo. I can offer you the finest training regimen and race planning available. Would you consider joining my team?"
"A senior trainer, huh."
Nearby first-years watched enviously. They all wanted invitations from senior trainers too.
The term had only just begun, though. Most trainers were still observing the new class; no one had made offers yet, let alone a senior trainer. Still, no one was surprised that King Halo was the first to receive one. Her performance at last week's simulated race had been extraordinary.
The moment that Flash-tier skill had lit up, no one else in that race could compete with her for attention.
Everyone was waiting to see how she'd answer.
The trainer was confident. He was a senior trainer — someone entrusted with leading his own team. And unlike young master Fukunaga, he'd earned that position through genuine ability and real achievements. Being the first to approach King Halo, he felt he'd already leapt ahead of his colleagues.
The others were still tiptoeing around the Academy leadership and Fukunaga's father.
Or waiting to evaluate King Halo's aptitude at next month's mid-distance simulated race.
He had chosen to take the risk and reach out now.
Yes, making an offer to King Halo without seeing more of her races — and while provoking the Academy's higher-ups — was a considerable gamble. But he'd been watching her training sessions carefully, and combined with his own judgment, he was ninety percent certain that she was the uma musume he wanted. So he'd decided to bet on it.
King Halo received the senior trainer's invitation with perfect composure. Her expression made several onlooking students sigh to themselves — she's so cool, no wonder she's a young lady from abroad, she's seen it all. Compared to ordinary students like them, she really was different. If they had been the ones receiving a senior trainer's invitation, they'd already be over the moon.
"Thank you very much for the invitation."
The moment those words left her mouth, the trainer felt his stomach drop.
He was right to worry. The next thing she said was:
"Then allow me one question. Do you have the confidence to take me to victory at the Arc de Triomphe?"
The trainer froze.
Across the cafeteria, students drew in a collective breath. Only a handful managed to keep their composure.
The Arc de Triomphe—
The one dream no Japanese uma musume these days even dared entertain.
The Symboli family's string of humiliating defeats in overseas campaigns had gutted morale across Japan's racing scene.
The matriarch herself still hadn't given up.
But her trainers and her racers below? None of them dared to dream that dream anymore.
The trainer couldn't believe King Halo had asked that question. He half-wondered if he'd misheard.
"You mean the Arc de Triomphe? The world's strongest?"
"Is there another Arc de Triomphe?"
Looking at King Halo's serious expression, the trainer started to speak, then hesitated.
You're serious?
He wanted to ask, but he already knew the answer. She was dead serious.
Then he remembered — this was the daughter of a champion bloodline, the child of two world-class racers. Of course she would carry an ambition like that. The real question was whether he, as her trainer, had the confidence to answer that ambition.
When he framed it that way, the answer was obvious.
He didn't.
Japan's uma musume scene hadn't produced anything on that scale. The Symboli family itself had failed at every international attempt. If the matriarch couldn't do it, how could anyone beneath her?
The new era's pioneer, El Condor Pasa, hadn't debuted yet. Special Week was still a country girl somewhere in the sticks. Silence Suzuka was being hidden away by Tojo Hana. Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen — those two prodigies hadn't even shown a shadow of themselves yet.
So the moment King Halo said Arc de Triomphe, the trainer began backing away.
It seemed insane to him — a foreign student coming to Japan and expecting to run the Arc. That was pure fantasy.
He and Tojo Hana held the same rank, but right now in Japan, Tojo Hana — the Symboli family's prodigy trainer — was probably the only senior trainer with the confidence to answer that question. No one else came close.
King Halo knew this perfectly well.
She knew that not even Nishizaki Ryu, the protagonist team's trainer, would dare to answer that question if he were standing here.
"My apologies. It seems I overstepped..."
The trainer bowed slightly in apology.
His answer said everything.
He didn't have the confidence to meet her.
"No, thank you for the invitation. It seems we aren't a good fit."
King Halo offered a small, easy smile.
"...I'll leave you to your meal."
The trainer turned and left. He sighed once, but said nothing more.
A moment ago, he'd meant to explain Japan's situation to her — to talk her out of this unrealistic dream. But knowing he couldn't convince her, he gave up before he started.
"We're back."
Urara and the others returned with desserts and drinks.
"Did a trainer just come over for Halo-chan? Did you accept?"
Urara asked, excited.
King Halo shook her head. "No."
"Eh?"
The classmate who'd gone with Urara exclaimed in surprise. "But wasn't that a senior trainer just now?"
She couldn't believe King Halo had turned down a trainer of that rank.
"We didn't see eye to eye."
King Halo gave the reason lightly.
The classmate looked at her with open admiration. If it had been her, even if the trainer's vision didn't match her own, she'd never have the nerve to refuse someone at that level. She'd have at least given it a trial period.
It wasn't like signing a contract was binding forever — uma musume had a lot of freedom in that regard. The only exception was if you'd signed a "body-and-soul" contract and accepted too much up front. That was a different situation entirely.
"You should've heard what Miss King Halo said to that trainer," another classmate said, mimicking her tone. "'Then allow me one question. Do you have the confidence to take me to victory at the Arc de Triomphe?'" She looked over at King Halo with something close to awe.
"I can't believe you actually want to run the Arc, Miss King Halo! That's incredible!"
Urara and the other classmate stared at her in shock.
"It's nothing. Goals should be grand — even if you can't reach them, the effort you pour into chasing them never betrays you. So why not aim higher?"
"We can't afford to think like that."
Some of the classmates shook their heads.
Urara looked at King Halo and broke into a bright grin. "As expected, Halo-chan is amazing!"
Privately, King Halo thought Urara was the amazing one.
To lose battle after battle and never yield — that kind of spirit was awe-inspiring.
Urara had never won. But...
King Halo was certain: in her heart, Urara had never conceded defeat.
Even King Halo wasn't sure she could keep running if she were losing every race. She couldn't picture a future like that.
So she genuinely admired Urara.
Once everyone finished their desserts, they all headed back to their classrooms.
The only reason they'd eaten together was because Urara had roped everyone in. If Urara hadn't gone out of her way, King Halo would've been eating alone. Unlike the original template, she had no interest in forming social groups.
Meanwhile, her exchange with the senior trainer in the cafeteria had already been uploaded to the campus network. Students and trainers alike were discussing it. Some thought King Halo was out of her mind. Others thought her ambition was admirable. Opinions split every which way — mostly just idle gossip.
King Halo glanced at the discussion once and paid it no further mind.
What she didn't realize was that many trainers, after hearing about the incident, quietly removed her from their shortlists.
Trainer Fukunaga shook his head when he saw the thread. King Halo's ambitions were delusional. He stopped paying attention — he was now certain she wouldn't sign with him.
Nishizaki Ryu wavered for a while and ultimately decided not to act.
Tojo Hana had a brief discussion with Symboli Rudolf.
But Tojo Hana already had a full roster, and the family had pinned their Arc de Triomphe hopes on El Condor Pasa, currently still training in America. She let King Halo go without a fight.
And so, despite her stellar performance, King Halo suddenly found herself with no takers.
The following month, sign-ups opened for the next simulated race.
...
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