After winning the Prix Niel and successfully securing her ticket to the main event of the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, Myriad Dreams felt her mood lighten considerably.
The next day, taking advantage of a rare moment of leisure, she strolled through the streets of Paris while chewing gum, browsing the recently finalized entry list for the Arc de Triomphe on her phone.
The screen listed one illustrious name after another, along with their brilliant track records:
Sagamix (who possessed incredible precision), Leggera (renowned for her powerful closing speed and tenacity), Dream Well (the mysterious British representative with an unknown Zone)...
Looking at the string of staggering G1 titles and incredibly high win rates, Myriad Dreams couldn't help but whisper in admiration, "Ehh... every single one of them is as strong as a monster..."
She was so absorbed in her reading that she didn't notice the corner ahead.
Suddenly, she felt a heavy impact against her shoulder.
"Ouch!"
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I was running too fast! Are you alright?"
Myriad Dreams stumbled and nearly fell.
Clutching her sore shoulder, she looked up to see a figure standing flustered in front of her, bowing repeatedly in apology.
It was an Uma Musume who looked a bit younger than herself, with beautiful short golden hair styled neatly.
At this moment, her face was written over with apology and anxiety.
"It's fine, it's fine," Myriad Dreams waved her hand, indicating she was unhurt. "I'm at fault too, I was too focused on my phone."
Seeing that she truly wasn't angry, the other girl breathed a sigh of relief and quickly reached out to steady her.
It was then that she caught a clear look at Myriad Dreams's face. A flash of surprise and recognition instantly crossed her golden eyes.
"Eh?! You... you're that contestant from Japan, Miss Myriad Dreams?" Her tone carried a hint of uncertainty and curiosity.
Myriad Dreams was also a bit surprised to be recognized on the streets of a foreign country. "You know me?"
The blonde Uma Musume nodded vigorously, a smile mixing respect and a bit of shyness appearing on her face.
"Yes! My mentor showed me your race data and photos, telling me I must keep an eye on you. She said you are one of the most unpredictable variables in this year's Arc de Triomphe."
"Your mentor is...?" Myriad Dreams recognized her, but she couldn't exactly reveal everything she knew about the girl's background upon their first meeting.
The blonde Uma Musume straightened her back, pride in her voice as she introduced herself clearly:
"My name is Treve. My mentor is Montjeu."
"Montjeu, huh..."
'I expect she'll be appearing in next year's Arc, but whatever. I won't be participating next year anyway.'
'But looking at it now... the French side, from top to bottom, has researched me quite thoroughly. Even an Uma Musume not competing yet knows this much about me...' Myriad Dreams thought to herself.
The pressure seemed to return slightly, but it also ignited a stronger fighting spirit.
"I see..." Myriad Dreams gave Treve a friendly smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Treve. Please give my regards to Montjeu as well."
"Mhm! I will!" Treve nodded emphatically, but then, as if remembering something, anxiety flooded her face again.
"Ah! I'm sorry, Miss Myriad Dreams, I have some urgent business and must go! I'm truly sorry for bumping into you! I look forward to seeing you at the racecourse!"
With that, she bowed to Myriad Dreams again and then, like a golden whirlwind, hurried away into the distance.
Watching Treve's receding figure disappear around the corner, Myriad Dreams chewed her gum thoughtfully.
'She really is as lively and cheerful as in the game. I wonder if she's like the game version too, going several days without taking a bath?'
With that thought, Myriad Dreams went on her way.