Chapter 145: Oh, isn’t this just about the right kind of Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe? If it’s a year like this, Will can totally take it.

Without any major incidents, Bourbon’s Japanese Derby came to a safe conclusion.

The result was more or less as expected—a four-length victory over Rice Shower.

It was decisive, but that doesn’t mean the runner-up was weak.

Reverent, who finished third, trailed Rice by another four and a half lengths. That alone proves Rice possesses the strength to win a G1 race.

So why did the gap grow so large?

Simply put, Bourbon’s performance exceeded Rice’s projections.

Rice Shower is a stayer blessed with extreme stamina and grit—enough to comfortably see out even long-distance races.

But perhaps because of that, if you look purely at her instantaneous speed—her raw speed stat—it doesn’t quite reach the upper tier expected of a G1-class Uma Musume.

Her racing strategy compensates for that shortcoming. She locks onto the runner in first place and maintains a calculated distance—one that allows her to overtake them with her finishing kick.

In other words, together with her trainer—who also happens to be a friend of mine—she analyzes the marked runner’s typical pace and times, then builds her race plan around that data.

This time, however, Bourbon shattered those predictions.

On the final straight—where she should have maintained her prior speed—she entered her Zone and accelerated dramatically.

Rice Shower, already trailing Bourbon in pure speed, simply couldn’t keep up with that outrageous surge.

In short, it was the same kind of unforeseen defeat I’ve suffered more than once—brought on by a sudden awakening into the Zone.

The power that had always beaten us became our weapon for a clean victory.

That alone is worth celebrating. And personally, I can’t help feeling a little satisfied—it almost feels as though I’ve overcome one of my own weaknesses.

But at the same time, it means we’ve already revealed our strongest trump card.

"The real issue is the Kikuka Sho."

Watching Wilm and Bourbon train, I muttered to myself.

Yes—the Kikuka Sho is the problem.

In both the historical record of my previous life and in the app, Bourbon won the Satsuki Sho and the Japanese Derby.

In other words, even without me, she could have reached this point.

That’s precisely why the real challenge lies with the Kikuka Sho.

The race she failed to win in my previous life.

…She chose me as her trainer.

She said I was the one she wanted.

She trusted me, and we’ve walked side by side to reach this point.

That’s not the only reason—but no. It is the reason.

Bringing personal feelings into work might not be ideal.

But because it’s her—because it’s Bourbon—even if it’s a race she was never meant to win, I want her to win it.

The problem is that we’re facing a mountain of obstacles: a training period when I’ll be absent, her long-distance aptitude still stuck at C, and simple stamina limitations.

Even now, the two of them are running side by side in front of me.

Over the designated 3000-meter distance, Bourbon’s pace visibly dropped around the 2400-meter mark.

This time, instead of her usual calculated optimal pace, I had her run at the projected front-running pace I estimated might be enough to win the Kikuka Sho.

As expected, it’s still too much for her at her current level.

Well, the stamina issue should be manageable if we continue progressing as planned.

The bigger problem is her lack of aptitude.

Can she truly stand against Rice, who possesses the refined talent of a natural stayer?

As that thought crossed my mind, a voice suddenly came from beside me.

"True enough. The Derby looked like a strong win at first glance, but that was basically just papering over the cracks with the Zone.

…Though I guess I’m not one to talk. I went for a Zone finish at last year’s Derby too."

The voice was neither distinctly feminine nor masculine, with a slightly tongue-tied lilt.

As far as I know, only one person sounds like that.

"Tokai Teio."

"Hello, Wilm’s trainer."

Tokai Teio—Wilm’s rival and also a close friend—had appeared at my side without my noticing. She greeted me with a bright, easygoing smile.

A sudden visit from Wilm’s rival.

Of course I was surprised—but more than that, I was puzzled.

"Hello. What brings you here today? Something for Wilm?"

"Nope, nothing in particular. If I had to say… I was bored?"

"I see. So you just dropped by on a whim."

"Something like that~"

Teio can be capricious.

Maybe she saw Bourbon at the Derby and got curious. Or perhaps Wilm simply crossed her mind.

Either way, it seems she came to watch training without any particular reason.

It’s not unusual for racing Uma Musume to observe a friend’s training—as long as it isn’t private.

And this session isn’t confidential.

"I see. Make yourself comfortable."

"Mm-hmm. You’d better welcome me properly, you know?"

Not that I’m welcoming her.

From my perspective, she’s a rival we have to defeat alongside Wilm.

…And on a personal level, I just don’t quite mesh with Teio. For some reason, I always feel slightly uneasy around her.

Suppressing a wry smile, I watched as Teio shifted her attention back to the two runners.

"So, what was that about the Kikuka Sho?"

"What do you mean? Just as you said—Bourbon’s true trial will be the Kikuka Sho."

"Well, Bourbon never really seemed suited for long distances to begin with. Middle distance, sure—but long distance? I’m not convinced she can handle it."

"…And why do you think that?"

"Huh? Just a feeling?"

"I see…"

A sigh slipped out.

She’s probably right. But the fact she arrived at that conclusion without any concrete reasoning…

This is what makes dealing with geniuses so troublesome.

…Though I’m not much different, evaluating Bourbon with knowledge from my previous life and this so-called app reincarnation.

After thorough analysis, I’ve reached a conclusion.

The distance aptitude visible through app reincarnation essentially reflects a runner’s intuitive pacing sense and stamina allocation ability for that distance.

Mihono Bourbon’s long-distance aptitude is C.

Two ranks below Rice Shower’s A.

When a runner’s distance aptitude drops, she loses her overall sense of pacing for that race.

In other words, she struggles to judge where to push, how much stamina to spend, and when to hold back.

Bourbon calculates her pace based on remaining distance and stamina data, so she’s less affected than most—but not immune.

In official races, when runners can’t grasp the pace properly, they tend to become overly cautious.

That caution leads to failing to reach their usual top speed—and ultimately finishing with unused energy.

With a C in long-distance aptitude, Bourbon’s speed in the Kikuka Sho could fall to the same level as Rice, who isn’t known for explosive acceleration.

If that happens, she won’t be able to break away on the final straight like she did in the Derby. Against Rice’s superior stamina, she’d have no path to victory.

That’s the greatest obstacle awaiting Bourbon at the Kikuka Sho.

Teio must intuitively grasp how serious the distance aptitude issue is.

She shifted her gaze from the runners to me.

"Is the plan to get her used to long distances going well?"

Normally, that’s not something I’d share lightly.

But she’s not Bourbon’s direct rival. And even if she knew, there’s little she could do to counter it. Improving aptitude isn’t something opponents can easily sabotage.

"Whether I can call it ‘well’ is… debatable."

"What kind of answer is that?"

"We’re trying, of course. But raising her to the level of a pure stayer by the Kikuka Sho would be difficult. So whether it’s going well… that’s hard to say."

From last year into this one, I raised Bourbon’s middle-distance aptitude from B to A.

Based on that experience and my training analysis, improving an Uma Musume’s distance aptitude by one rank requires at least half a year.

We shifted her focus to long-distance training as soon as her middle-distance improvement was complete.

Even so, by the time the Kikuka Sho arrives, one rank is probably the limit.

At best, Bourbon’s long-distance aptitude will reach B—still one rank below Rice Shower.

"Shame. If the Kikuka Sho were next April, I think you could’ve trained her up that far."

As frustration flickered through me at the thought of sending Bourbon out less than perfectly prepared, Teio gave me a skeptical look.

"…You do realize what you’re saying is kind of insane, right? Turning a girl who wasn’t bred for it into a stayer—that’s extreme remodeling. Normally you can’t pull that off in such a short time."

"I’m not so sure. Silence Suzuka is a good example."

Silence Suzuka.

Now part of the Dream Trophy League, known as the Runaway from Another Dimension.

Originally, she was suited for mile to middle-distance races.

At the Classic level, her long-distance aptitude was E. By last year’s Arima Kinen, it had risen to B—an improvement of three ranks.

Her career spans six years, though injuries and rehabilitation after that Silent Sunday consumed significant time.

Realistically, she had about three effective years to improve.

Three ranks in three years—roughly one per year.

And Suzuka wasn’t even specifically targeting long distance.

She’s the type who doesn’t care whether it’s mile or middle distance, as long as she can run at the front.

Her long-distance training was likely incidental—something like, “Might as well be able to run it someday.”

Which means it wasn’t even a high-priority goal.

And yet she still improved at a rate of one rank per year.

Speculation aside, one thing is certain:

Even without abilities like app reincarnation, trainers can improve an Uma Musume’s aptitude.

Given that, with Bourbon deliberately targeting long distance—and with the accumulated wisdom of Horino’s legacy plus my own app reincarnation advantage—

It’s only natural I could raise her aptitude at twice that speed.

That’s what I believed.

But Teio, leaning lazily against the railing, looked at me with visible doubt.

"…Do you even know who Suzuka-senpai’s contracted trainer is before saying that?"

"Huh? Well… I know the basics, but not in great detail."

In this world, Suzuka’s trainer is a woman—like Teio’s trainer—an eccentric who typically takes on only one trainee at a time.

Her skill is unquestioned, especially her eye for uncovering hidden potential.

But from what I’ve heard from Sky’s trainer…

She’s what you might call a global free spirit.

If she decides her trainee’s running style doesn’t suit Japanese races, she’ll immediately head overseas—or even relocate entirely.

Officially, she’s affiliated with Central Tracen in Japan, but there are years when she only returns for about a month.

Apparently she loves Japan as her homeland. But more than that, she prioritizes placing her trainee in the environment where they can shine most.

She didn’t even attend last year’s trainers’ year-end party—she was busy finalizing plans for the upcoming season—and I’ve barely spoken to her myself.

Aside from handling a monster like Rudolf, she had rarely taken on top-tier runners before Suzuka. Most of her previous trainees were G2-class Uma Musume at best.

So I’m not especially familiar with her either.

Apparently, though, Teio knows far more about Suzuka’s trainer than I do—likely having heard directly from her.

She raised a finger sharply and began to explain.

"She’s basically a specialist in extreme remodeling Uma Musume. That’s practically her trademark.

She took Suzuka-senpai in because she believed, ‘If it’s me, I can make Suzuka’s running even better.’ And, well… letting her go all-in on her runaway style turned out to be a massive success."

"…Ah. I see."

Thinking back on it…

Most of her past trainees had started out running in ways that didn’t match their aptitudes—or aiming for distances they weren’t suited for, like Bourbon.

Maybe that’s the very criterion she uses when choosing her runners.

Honestly, I can’t say I don’t understand the appeal.

After all, when I first saw Wilm running mile races as a late closer, my immediate thought was, What a waste.

…There’s no point dwelling on hypotheticals, but if she hadn’t contracted with Suzuka and had seen Wilm back then, maybe she would’ve scouted her instead.

And if that had happened—with her proven track record compared to me, a complete rookie at the time—Wilm probably would’ve signed with her…

…No. Let’s stop that train of thought.

I have a feeling my brain won’t survive it.

As I shook my head to clear it, Teio continued.

"What she took three years to do, you’re saying you’ll do in one. That sounds seriously insane, you know?"

"…Well, Silence Suzuka and Mihono Bourbon were born with different baseline long-distance aptitudes."

"Huh? Suzuka-senpai’s got amazing bloodlines, right? And Bourbon’s from modest stock and suited for shorter distances—yet Bourbon has better aptitude?"

"That’s the terrifying part about mutations…"

Suzuka and Bourbon are fairly similar in overall aptitude—both shine from mile to middle distance.

But if you look strictly at their initial long-distance aptitude, Suzuka, the blue-blooded runner, started at E. Bourbon, from humbler lineage, started at C—two ranks higher.

So maybe this world isn’t purely a blood sport after all.

Mutations are terrifying.

Then again, I signed two of them in consecutive years, so perhaps I’m not one to talk.

And there’s one more thing.

"I’m not doing anything particularly extraordinary. I’m just assigning what I judge to be optimal training, based on the information I can see and past case studies.

If anyone’s remarkable, it’s the trainers of the past who established those precedents."

"Mm-hmm…"

Teio didn’t look entirely convinced—but that’s simply how I see it.

Is it the tool that’s amazing, or the one who uses it?

There’s a vast difference between the two.

Take using a computer to perform complex calculations.

With a bit of study, anyone can learn to input the numbers. In that case, what’s impressive is the computer—not the user.

But using that same computer to create an original, unprecedented piece of art—

That’s not something just anyone can do. It produces something uniquely tied to the individual.

In that case, what’s impressive is the user—not the tool.

As for which category I fall into—

The former.

What’s remarkable is the cheat ability called app reincarnation, and the long-accumulated wisdom of Horino’s legacy.

I’m merely applying them to produce the results that should logically follow.

I still haven’t achieved something that only I could have accomplished.

Even Wilm’s first Takarazuka Kinen victory as a Classic-class Uma Musume—strategically, I lost to Sky. If Wilm hadn’t awakened her Zone, we would’ve lost that race.

The record for most G1 wins? Considering the fiascos at the Derby and Takarazuka, it’s hard to claim that as my achievement. Even with app reincarnation and Horino’s wisdom, I couldn’t fully support her.

Maybe I’m being overly self-deprecating.

But if Wilm truly possesses reincarnation-level blessings of her own, she might have achieved those feats even without me.

Perhaps the day I can truly acknowledge myself…

…is the day Wilm and I step into territory unprecedented in history.

Something that has never happened before—and may never happen again.

For example, winning the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe.

…Yes. If we reached that far, I’d have no choice but to admit it.

That Wilm alone couldn’t have come this far.

That it was because it was Wilm and me.

So for Wilm’s sake—and for my own—

I need to focus on what’s right in front of me.

---

As I quietly renewed my resolve, Teio’s voice came again, slightly more animated.

"So, how’s Wilm doing?"

"…So that’s what you really wanted to ask."

"It’s not like there’s some ‘real’ topic. I just kind of wandered over here, remember?"

She turned toward Wilm and the others, humming lightly with exaggerated innocence.

Fine.

No matter what she asks, I won’t say anything that disadvantages Wilm. And as long as it doesn’t put her at risk, I don’t mind sharing a little.

"Takarazuka Kinen or the Arc—which are you asking about? Anything beyond that, I won’t say."

"Let’s start with Takarazuka, I guess. Think she can win again this year?"

"…She should be able to."

"That’s a pretty noncommittal answer."

Race outcomes aren’t something you can usually declare with absolute certainty.

And this time, there’s a significant unknown variable—one I can’t confidently dismiss.

"Happy Meek is the wild card."

"Meek-senpai, huh…"

Yes. This time’s primary rival is Happy Meek.

The final member of the Golden Generation—the late-blooming white blossom.

There are, of course, several Uma Musume to watch at this year’s Takarazuka Kinen.

Yggdrasil Valley, who placed third in the Tenno Sho where Wilm and McQueen faced off, then followed up with a strong second behind Yamanin Zephyr in the Yasuda Kinen.

Daisangen, whose impressive showing at last year’s Arima Kinen still lingers in memory.

And the increasingly famous runaway duo: Mejiro Palmer and Daitaku Helios.

Yet beyond all of them, the one I consider most dangerous is Happy Meek.

Her career record stands at 31 races with 11 wins—four of them G1 victories.

That alone marks her as exceptional. But she holds an even more astonishing distinction.

She’s the first Uma Musume in history to win G1 races across every distance category.

Because I know the app Uma Musume: Pretty Derby from my previous life—and can see that all her distance aptitudes are A—I understand how it’s possible.

But to the average observer, she must seem outrageous.

She deserves to be rated on the same level as Wilm, who achieved the undefeated Triple Crown.

…At least, she should.

"Happy Meek doesn’t get talked about much for some reason. Makes gathering data surprisingly difficult."

Exactly.

For someone who achieved a historic first, she ought to be wildly popular.

Yet in reality, she isn’t overwhelmingly so.

The likely reasons are her quiet personality—and…

"Meek-senpai’s race record is kind of extreme, right?"

As Teio pointed out knowingly, her performances lack consistency.

Happy Meek can win the G1 Sprinters Stakes by three lengths—then finish third in the G3 Ocean Stakes under nearly identical conditions.

Sometimes she unleashes a breathtakingly perfect closing charge. Other times—no offense intended—she runs a fairly ordinary front-running race.

In short, there’s no stability to her results.

Still… it feels strange that conquering every G1 distance wouldn’t earn greater acclaim for reasons like that alone.

Perhaps her Uma Soul—or rather, the fact that in the original app she was an original character who didn’t play a major role in the main storyline—has something to do with it.

Anyway.

What matters right now is that Happy Meek rarely becomes a hot topic, which makes investigating her far more difficult.

"Until we clearly identify the timing or conditions under which Happy Meek’s form spikes, I can’t say with certainty that we’ll win. Of course I want to win."

"You seriously don’t know? I mean the conditions."

"No. I’ve narrowed it down to about ninety-five percent."

At that, Teio gave me a distinctly unimpressed look.

It was the same slightly accusatory glance she sometimes aimed at Wilm.

"…Aren’t you being a little too cautious?"

"No, no. How can I trust odds like that? If there’s a five percent chance of failure, that means there’s a five percent chance of failure."

"Amazing. You repeated yourself and added exactly zero new information."

But really—can you trust the phrase “five percent failure rate”?

In my previous life, I was the guy who hit the one percent failure chance and ruined an entire training run. I have no intention of repeating that mistake.

If this were the app from my old world, where you could retry endlessly, that would be one thing. But here, I’m not about to gamble and risk injuring my trainee over probability.

Even if failure occurs only once in twenty attempts, there’s nothing stopping it from happening on the very first one.

And in a world without RNG elements like “which support shows up to training,” there’s no reason to take unnecessary risks.

Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked.

The point is, until we close that remaining five percent regarding the conditions under which Meek reaches peak form, I can’t declare victory guaranteed.

…And if my hypothesis is correct, even identifying those conditions might not make them fully counterable.

That part, honestly… might be beyond what I can handle alone.

After preparing every possible countermeasure, I’ll probably have to rely on Wilm.

---

So that’s the situation with the Takarazuka Kinen.

Naturally, the conversation moved to the next subject.

"And what about the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe? Fully prepared?"

"There’s no way we’re fully prepared…"

I let out a wry smile at Teio’s question.

She isn’t especially interested in overseas campaigns, so it’s understandable if she doesn’t grasp the sheer scale of the challenge.

"Overseas races—especially in Europe—are completely different from Japan.

Japanese turf is firm and springy. Longchamp’s turf has far less rebound, which demands significantly more power to propel your body forward.

The course layout isn’t an oval like in Japan—it’s shaped more like a curved hook. The race flow tends to be slower, and physical jostling is far more aggressive.

Naturally, fan expectations and the preferred style of victory are different. Wilm’s… not great with languages, so she probably won’t be speaking the local one. We don’t even know if the water or food will suit her.

There’s the eight-hour time difference disrupting her rhythm, the psychological weight of being in a true away environment where most spectators won’t be her fans, the jinx that Japanese Uma Musume can’t win the Arc… When you challenge an overseas race, there are countless walls to overcome."

Half of that was me organizing the disadvantages in my own mind—but Tokai Teio blinked rapidly as she listened.

"W-Wow… I mean, going overseas really is something, huh."

"Yeah. And the real issue is that most of those problems can only be addressed after we actually arrive there.

That’s why El Condor Pasa, who went to France early and acclimated ahead of time, managed to get so close to victory."

"So what are you going to do about it? …Oh. I guess there’s nothing you can really do until after Takarazuka, huh?"

"That’s right."

At best, we can arrange temporary housing in advance, ship over furniture and daily necessities, analyze the local air and water, and carefully adjust Wilm’s diet.

And above all… conduct thorough scouting of the overseas Uma Musume.

"One fortunate thing is that, this year, there doesn’t appear to be an absolute strongest among the overseas runners.

At the moment, the biggest threat is probably Witch Evening… but she’s reportedly been out of form this spring."

It’s not exactly something to celebrate, but if there’s no overwhelming rival, victory becomes more attainable.

In that sense, this year’s Arc could be seen as an opportunity.

The overseas field seems somewhat lacking in true monsters—no one quite like the Teio standing beside me.

That said, even Classic-class overseas runners can surge forward with terrifying momentum.

The various Derbies and Oaks around the world are about to take place. Any rising star demands caution.

Still, with no dominant Senior-class powerhouse looming, it’s fair to say we’re spared at least one major headache.

It’s not as though Classic-class runners capable of surpassing Wilm are common.

…At least, that’s what I thought.

"I don’t know about that."

Teio tilted her head skeptically.

"What do you mean?"

"That there’s nothing special among the overseas runners this year."

"At least within the scope of my current observations, I haven’t seen anyone particularly threatening…"

I hadn’t heard of any Japanese runner declaring entry into the Arc this year, so perhaps she had someone overseas in mind?

Contrary to my expectation, she smiled faintly—almost mischievously.

"You know, if Wilm hadn’t existed, I don’t think I would’ve gotten this strong.

Nature’s like that. And probably Bourbon and Rice too, right?"

"Well… I hate to admit it, but there may be some truth to that."

"Right? …So doesn’t that mean there might be someone overseas too? Someone Wilm lit a fire under?"

"Hm."

It’s not a possibility I want to dwell on—but it’s plausible.

Sure, the idea of someone in a distant island nation being inspired by a race broadcast from far-off Japan seems unlikely…

But I can’t completely dismiss the possibility that someone awakened after being ignited by Wilm’s performance.

"Do you have any concrete reason to think that?"

"Nope. Just intuition."

Teio’s intuition, huh…

In some ways, that’s more frightening than hard evidence.

…Fine. I’ll dig a little deeper.

If I end up overlooking someone who could become Wilm’s rival—

That wouldn’t just be a matter of pride anymore.

---

As we continued talking, I suddenly noticed Teio’s gaze shift.

"Hmm… yeah, I’ve learned a decent amount, so I guess I’ll head out."

"Learned? Huh? Wait, was that your goal the whole time?"

"It’s always better to study how different trainers think! Heh heh, I totally got you to spill all sorts of stuff!"

Teio grinned mischievously.

Honestly, though, it felt like I was the one who’d learned more this time. There was no reason to refuse her.

"It’s nothing special. I can talk about this anytime. If you’re worried about Wilm’s races or want my opinion, you’re always welcome to come by. Besides, I learned quite a bit too. Thanks for the discussion, Tokai Teio."

"Eh? You’re thanking me? Isn’t this where you’re supposed to act frustrated or something—oh, crap."

Crap?

Teio tilted her head slightly, then looked past me.

Her ears and tail snapped upright. With a quick, "See ya!" she dashed off in a flurry of light footsteps.

What was that about?

Puzzled, I turned back toward my trainee—

And that’s when I felt it.

An icy, prickling pressure at my back.

"Ayumu-san… you seemed to be having quite a fun conversation with Teio, didn’t you?"

…I didn’t do anything wrong, though.

Right?