Tokyo Racecourse. Fuchu, Tokyo.
At first, it was nothing more than a faint tremor. But within heartbeats, the sensation became sharp, violent, and undeniable.
Blades of grass—and even chunks of the turf itself—were ground into dust under the sudden, thunderous strike of horseshoes. They were swept up by invisible, surging shockwaves and hurled into the air in the blink of an eye.
The earth trembled; the air roared.
The cheers and screams of the crowd were deafening, creating a gale that threatened to drown out the whistling wind of the race itself.
"They're coming! They're coming! They're here!" The iconic voice of commentator Satomi Akasaka echoed over the Tokyo Racecourse. "The pack has passed the 600-meter marker! Once they clear this fourth bend, they'll hit the final straight of the Japanese Derby!"
"Moonlight Swallow is in the lead, but wait—Gold City, her golden hair fluttering in the wind, is catching up in a single burst! That's right, it's not over until the very last second! This is the Japanese Derby!"
Before the words could even settle, the rising tide of cheers grew more fervent. The spectators shouted themselves hoarse, screaming the names of the girls they supported, desperate to see them seize the Derby crown and stand at the summit of their generation.
As the race neared its end, the audience realized with visceral clarity: this wasn't just a battle between the Uma Musume; it was a war between their supporters.
If the girls were locked in such a grueling struggle, how could the fans do anything less? They poured their souls into their cheers, trying to drown out the followers of every other rival.
Amidst the rolling waves of sound, at the 200-meter mark, a "dark horse" surged from the pack, overtaking every other girl in one breathtaking move!
Watching that figure whistle past her and feeling the air grow increasingly stifling, Gold City gritted her teeth. Even as the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, she didn't slow down. Instead, she squeezed every remaining drop of energy from her body.
She had to prove to everyone here that the attention she received wasn't just because of her beauty—not just because she was hailed as the "once-in-a-century beautiful Uma Musume"—but because she possessed top-tier strength!
She had suffered a frustrating silver at the Satsuki Sho. This time, she would absolutely take the gold!
But the rapid depletion of her stamina soon left her faltering. No matter how much she resented it, she could only watch as "Pleasure Beauty" pulled away from her and the rest of the pack.
It was obvious to everyone: the pack couldn't catch that black-clad figure. Pleasure Beauty was about to ascend to the peak of her generation!
It was at that moment that Gold City noticed something strange in the distance.
A black-haired young man was sprinting alongside the pack, a camera perched on his shoulder. Clearly, he was trying to capture the moving sight of the Uma Musume giving their all for victory: the tension in their arms as they pumped, the striking hooves, the flying turf, and the naturally resolute expressions born of the desire to win.
One by one, he captured these high-tension moments.
Surely, the audience would be moved to tears by such footage, brimming with the raw passion of competition.
But in that moment, Gold City only had one thought: I don't understand.
One had to realize that an Uma Musume's sueashi—her final explosive sprint—could reach speeds of over sixty kilometers per hour! The elite among them could even break seventy. Yet, the person carrying that camera was clearly just a regular human!
How was he keeping up? How was he running parallel to the pack? And how... how was he running ahead of Pleasure Beauty to capture the exact moment the girl crossed the finish line?! Does this make any sense?!
Because it was so incomprehensible, Gold City let out a voice thick with shock: "Huh?!"
It was impossible... could that actually be some new breed of "Flat-Chested Uma Musume"? But he clearly didn't have ears or a tail! That was definitely a human!
As Gold City struggled to wrap her head around it, the sky-shaking cheers drowned out her senses. The crushing weight of fatigue forced her to a halt after crossing the finish line; she didn't have the strength left to go find that miraculous cameraman.
With the race concluded, the production crew cheered for Pleasure Beauty's victory and, as per tradition, exchanged "Good work today"s with their colleagues.
"Aha, Fujimaru-kun! We really owe you one this time. If you hadn't helped us out, we wouldn't have known what to do," a kindly-looking gaffer walked over, clapping the black-haired youth on the shoulder. He showered him with praise before immediately trying to poach him. "So, what do you think? Want to join our crew? We can negotiate the pay."
The gaffer looked like a man starving for talent. If the setting were different, he probably would have rolled out a red carpet right then and there.
The youth called "Fujimaru-kun" smiled and waved his hand, insisting he had only done a bit of trivial work and it was nothing special.
He had short, neat black hair that contrasted with his deep, clear cerulean eyes—eyes that reminded one of the Aegean Sea in the afternoon.
His features were well-defined with a high bridge to his nose, giving him an imposing look at first glance. However, the lines of his lips were unexpectedly soft, curved into a faint, lingering smile that gave him an aura of warmth and approachability.
Even more peculiar was the fact that he was wearing nothing more than a simple white shirt and dark trousers, yet he carried himself with a unique air. He possessed a composure and steadiness that seemed forged through a thousand trials, causing people to subconsciously ignore his young age and feel inclined to listen to his insights.
Fujimaru Ritsuka. Twenty years old. Former Savior.
Together with Chaldea, he had resolved the Incineration of Humanity, the Bleaching of the Earth, and the crises that followed. He could proudly say: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith..."
Afterward, whether it was the influence of the Counter Force or a collective effort of various powers...
To relieve the accumulated stress of his journey, Fujimaru Ritsuka had been granted an incredibly long paid vacation. He had been sent to this brand-new world, entirely different from the one Chaldea inhabited.
There were no Apostles, no Magicians, no Holy Church—not even Holy Grail Wars or Magecraft. There were only the miraculous spirits who thrived on the racetrack: the Uma Musume.
In his dreams, the Three Goddesses had once told him:
[Uma Musume... they are born alongside names from another world, names that are either tragic or brilliant. They inherit that glory and run; such is their destiny.]
[For the Uma Musume of this world, their story has only just begun. No one knows the final results of the races they will run in the future; they will simply keep moving forward.]
[The only thing in their eyes is the finish line.]
[Though the current timeline is a bit of a mess—calculated perhaps by some 'Detective Conan' logic... if it's you, the Savior, I'm sure it'll be fine!]
Was he really here for a vacation? He couldn't help but feel like he'd been dragged into a new crisis...
However, both the gods of his old world and the Three Goddesses of this one had solemnly declared: We have no intention of interfering with your actions, Fujimaru-kun. This is a peaceful world; you can do anything you want.
Whether he wanted to write about his past experiences and become a light novel author, or follow a traditional path and test into Tokyo University... the choice was his!
However, perhaps because his experiences as a Savior had fundamentally changed him, Fujimaru Ritsuka found himself unexpectedly unmotivated by a dull, peaceful daily life. Thus, after traveling the world and meeting new companions, he had eventually sat for and obtained a Trainer's License.
Faced with the gaffer's invitation, Fujimaru Ritsuka politely declined with a smile: "Uncle Hayasaka, thank you for the offer, but I'm actually already a rookie Trainer."
Watching a race and longing to become a Trainer was something that happened every single day, so Mr. Hayasaka wasn't surprised. In fact, to Mr. Hayasaka and everyone else in this world:
If you weren't moved after seeing the Uma Musume pouring their sweat and soul into a race for victory, you weren't human!
"Oh! Is it for that kid who was with you before? I remember she was an ash-gray... well, never mind that. Have you decided on a debut route for your trainee yet? You have to let me know when she races! I'll be there to cheer for both of you! Ah, right—you absolutely have to come to the victory party tonight. You're the MVP of today's shoot; you can't skip out!"
Faced with such sincere kindness, Fujimaru Ritsuka naturally wouldn't refuse. "Then I'll take you up on that, Uncle Hayasaka. As for the race... that girl is quite remarkable. Please look forward to it."
Meanwhile, outside the Tokyo Racecourse.
The setting sun dyed the sky a magnificent orange-red, draping the bustling crowds in warm light, allowing them to discuss the Derby's grandeur and relive the exciting moments in comfort.
However, not everyone could immerse themselves in the emotion and excitement of the Derby—specifically, Gold City, who had lost the race.
Having changed back into her civilian clothes, the young girl was still radiantly youthful. Under the glow of the sunset, her wind-swept golden hair seemed to have a dreamlike filter applied to it, making onlookers instinctively sigh: So beautiful... truly a once-in-a-century beauty!
But more than beauty, Gold City wanted victory. She wanted to stand on the Winning Stage. To her, and to most Uma Musume, they were at their most brilliant when bathed in the glory of victory.
Longing for the dazzling stage, craving the baptism of honor, wanting to become the star that shines brightest—that was an Uma Musume.
And yet...
Crinkle. The ears of the girl, who was currently brooding over her failure, twitched. She heard the sound of a plastic wrapper being torn open, followed by the satisfied "gulp" of someone swallowing food.
Gold City instinctively looked over. Within her line of sight was a young Uma Musume wearing a blissful smile.
She had long, silver-gray hair tied into a ponytail, looking clean and efficient.
Her face was a bit youthful and lacked any particular intensity. She looked like a newcomer... no, maybe she hadn't even debuted yet? Maybe she was just an ordinary student?
This girl devoured a seaweed-wrapped rice ball in two or three bites, then peeled open another one, preparing to continue her feast.
Noticing someone approaching, she immediately looked up, her gray ears perking up in tandem. Then, she realized: It's an Uma Musume I don't know.
The silver-haired girl looked at the golden-haired beauty with a face of pure confusion: "口_口?"
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Uma Musume: Oguri Cap Grand Order (22 Chapters, Ongoing)
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