Under Gotham Song’s silently oppressive gaze, the URA executives finally bowed their once-proud heads.
After that, things proceeded swiftly. Gotham Song had already issued her verdict, and Secretariat, who had eagerly anticipated this mont, showed no hesitation, practically forcing the representatives across the table to sign before revealing a satisfied smile.
"Excellent. This docunt is now officially in effect. From this mont, the Japan Cup has been downgraded to a local G1 race. As for when it might reclaim its forr status..."
"That decision will rest solely with Miss Gotham Song."
Wait, wait. Local G1? Sure, okay. But depending on my decision...?
Hold on—my decision?
Sothing’s not right here, is it?
Gotham Song furrowed her brows in confusion, and before she could fully grasp the situation, Dancing Brave lightly poked her cheek with another docunt.
"You personally signed the downgrade approval for the Japan Cup, didn’t you? Thus, isn’t it reasonable that its upgrade back to International G1 also requires your approval?"
Ahh... I see. So the paper Dancing Brave’s holding must be the approval form to restore the Japan Cup’s international G1 status.
Wait—having it ready in advance? Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?
With lingering doubts, Gotham Song took the docunt from Dancing Brave, spread it flat on the table, and caught the pen tossed her way by Secretariat.
Let take a closer look... What exactly is this about?
[This is an official letter of appointnt—please forgive my casual wording. Dear Miss Gotham Song, given your desire to reside in Japan for an extended period, it’s fitting to entrust you personally with the supervision of Japan’s races, particularly regarding their elevation to international status. Thus, on behalf of the International Uma Musu Racing Committee, I delegate this responsibility fully into your capable hands. Of course, I look forward to eting you in the United States when your schedule allows.]
Below the ssage was a place for Gotham Song’s signature, and beneath that, the signature of the authorizing figure.
Whose signature?
It belonged to the legendary Arican Uma Musu Secretariat had ntioned earlier—Seabiscuit.
Gotham Song’s expression turned slightly complicated. She’d avoided thinking about it too deeply before, but seeing it now, the realization struck her clearly.
This isn’t just about overseeing one race, is it? They’re telling I’ve beco the final gatekeeper for the internationalization of the entire Japanese racing scene?
Huh?
She shot a disbelieving glance at Dancing Brave, only to see her longti rival nod gently, as if it were perfectly natural.
And why not?
You’ve all tead up to ss with , haven’t you?!
Frustration bubbled up inside Gotham Song as she chewed her lower lip irritably. Nevertheless, she signed her na decisively.
Since she had already resolved to beco the villain who would crush Japan’s ambitions for the next five years, now that the chance had conveniently appeared before her, why refuse?
Dancing Brave swiftly gathered up the docunt after Gotham Song signed, as if afraid she might reconsider. Watching this, Secretariat revealed a mysterious smile.
Perfect, just like this, Miss Gotham Song. Now, you’ll never be completely dyed in Japan’s colors. One day, you and I will surely have a chance to run at full strength, won’t we? I deeply look forward to it...
Crush , or be crushed by —either way, these trivial worldly matters are no longer relevant. Now we only need to give our utmost.
Dream Cup, why haven’t you arrived yet?!
While Gotham Song’s and Secretariat’s hidden thoughts drifted beneath the surface, the URA executives across from them were drenched in cold sweat.
They had only witnessed Gotham Song suddenly reaching another agreent with Secretariat, signing another mysterious paper, then silently handing it back before watching them intently without a word.
The URA representatives exchanged uneasy glances. Eventually, one brave soul stood up nervously, adjusting his clothes. But at that mont, Secretariat sharply rapped her knuckles on the table, coughing lightly in a deliberately ambiguous manner.
Those legendary eyes, brimming with fierce authority, stared pointedly at the highest-ranking official present.
Do you an to tell you planned to send out your lowest-ranking official first to face soone of Gotham Song’s current status?
Is that really appropriate?
Obviously not.
Seeing Secretariat’s openly displeased expression, the URA gave up their petty attempts at deflection and approached Gotham Song, offering a string of aningless pleasantries.
Gotham Song had zero interest in their small talk, but considering this was the quickest way to end this pointless ordeal, she gave a few indifferent replies.
After hurriedly concluding their business at URA headquarters, Gotham Song and the others swiftly left the eting room, entered the elevator without looking back, and departed.
Watching their backs vanish, the URA Chairwoman ground her teeth in bitter resentnt.
But what else could they do?
URA was utterly powerless now. All they could do was wait—patiently, bitterly wait—for their trump card to step onto the track, and then...
They would overturn this humiliation with honest strength alone.
Such words might sound pathetic, but dignity no longer mattered. They would now stake all their accumulated pride and honor—
To defeat Gotham Song, we must create our own Gotham Song. The first Uma Musu who’ll attempt this...
Debut as quickly as possible and enter your Classic Year, Miss Almond Eye.
Gotham Song sneezed loudly, as though soone were vehently cursing her na.
Hmm... Back in the Afterlife, I sneezed constantly, sotis even for hours straight.
Paying little heed to such trivialities, Gotham Song sat down beside Secretariat, lifting a small, disgruntled fist to lightly punch the older Uma Musu.
She’d specifically requested riding together with Secretariat and Dancing Brave after leaving URA; they had so special matters to discuss. But first, she’d collect a bit of interest.
You arranged everything without even ntioning it, didn’t you?!
This clearly wasn’t spontaneous. Secretariat probably planned this entire scenario from the start—even intended for to take this position from the beginning.
Isn’t this just way too much?!
Gotham Song bared her teeth in a gesture she believed looked quite threatening.
Secretariat, facing this little silver-haired Uma Musu making her best attempt at intimidation, found herself struggling to maintain a neutral expression.
Holding back a loving smile can sotis be truly difficult.
Still, Secretariat understood Gotham Song’s current mood perfectly. That’s exactly why she calmly accepted that playful punch—though honestly, taking another ten wouldn’t have hurt at all.
Hehe, Miss Gotham Song.
"Miss Gotham Song," indeed.
"At any rate, this was part of the plan all along. We didn’t ntion it earlier because we weren’t certain how far you’d actually get. But seeing it now, you’ve grown even stronger than I anticipated, Miss... Gotham Song."
Secretariat paused slightly before saying the na. Gotham Song strongly suspected that pause ant she’d nearly uttered a different na entirely. Annoyed, she quickly brushed past it, her earlier bravado slightly deflated.
Not listening, not looking. If I say I’m not her, then I’m not!
"A-Anyway, I accepted this position solely as Gotham Song. But don’t expect to do anything beyond that—absolutely not."
Oh? Only as Gotham Song, hm~?
Secretariat’s smile grew even more aningful as she turned toward the window. How could she describe her current mood?
Simply put, she’d recalled sothing incredibly amusing.
But now it was finally ti to discuss serious matters.
"All right, Miss Gotham Song. If you still want to hit later, feel free. But now, onto sothing genuinely important."
"Ah—right, of course."
Gotham Song lowered the small fist hovering dangerously close to Secretariat’s face. Ignoring the slightly disturbed look Dancing Brave shot her, she comfortably brought up another topic.
"It might seem sudden, but after the Arima Kinen, could you join us for a trip to New York?"
"New York...? Is there sothing you specifically need for?"
Secretariat smiled flawlessly, perfectly composed.
"After your Classic Year ends, there’s really no reason for you to continue racing only in Japan. You’ll soon be challenging races overseas—and in fact, there’s an event we’d like you to attend."
"As a mber of the International Uma Musu Racing Committee, we’d love for you to announce the official launch of the Dream Cup. Surely you’ll be participating in it yourself, right, Miss Song? Additionally, this year’s People’s Choice Uma Musu Awards will be announced, and you’re guaranteed to be among the recipients."
Well, whether professionally or personally, I suppose attending makes sense... Though the People’s Choice Awards do sound pretty interesting.
Gotham Song nodded thoughtfully, provisionally agreeing, and shortly afterward Secretariat’s car dropped her off at jiro Manor.
The two veteran Legends had many things left to handle. After Gotham Song politely declined their invitation to join, they didn’t press further. Their next destination was Japan Central Tracen Academy, where they intended to et with Symboli Rudolf.
According to Secretariat, they planned to create an entirely new organization—one fully managed by Uma Musu themselves—to finally replace the chaotic ss of the current URA-controlled racing scene in Japan.
Gotham Song had no desire to get involved further in such complex affairs. Returning ho, she shared Secretariat’s invitation with jiro Ramonu and the others, who surprisingly raised no objections at all.
In fact, jiro Ramonu’s only conditions were these:
First, Gotham Song must take jiro McQueen and jiro Ardan along with her to New York, since Ramonu herself was unable to leave Japan due to various responsibilities.
And secondly—
"I won’t waste words, Song. But promise one thing—you absolutely must co back to ."
jiro Ramonu’s tone remained calm as always, yet her words gripped Gotham Song’s heart, leaving her montarily breathless. It wasn’t that she felt trapped; quite the opposite. Being so close, she clearly felt Ramonu’s genuine emotions, causing her chest to tighten with warmth.
She glanced around cautiously. Seeing they were alone, Gotham Song boldly seized the chance, slipping softly into Ramonu’s embrace without a word.
Surprised, Ramonu instinctively reached out to steady her. But Gotham Song had anticipated this; she shifted easily into Ramonu’s arms, their bodies pressing gently together, the quiet rustle of clothing the only sound between them.
Rather than answer right away, Gotham Song took out her phone, holding it high above their heads.
"Ramonu-nee, rember how I complained about our last photo being too blurry? Hehe... Let’s take another one now—in our ho."
Our ho... She really knows how to choose her words now, Ramonu thought fondly.
No wonder she has so many admirers around her these days...
Though her feelings were complicated, Ramonu smiled gently and indulged Gotham Song, quietly setting aside her previous question. She hugged her little sister close, erasing every gap between them as they faced the cara together.
"Ready? Three, two..."
But the shutter button was in Gotham Song’s hands—she alone controlled the precise timing of their captured mont. Intentionally prolonging the countdown, she waited until Ramonu looked slightly puzzled and distracted—
Then she swiftly turned her head, planting a gentle kiss on Ramonu’s cheek.
The shutter clicked sharply, and in the next instant, Gotham Song vanished from Ramonu’s embrace like a Great Escape Uma Musu breaking out from the gate. Dashing lightly to the door, she quickly hit send on the photo.
"Hehe, looks like Ramonu-nee’s the one with the funny expression this ti! Next ti, after I co back, let’s take one that’s perfect for both of us—okay?"
"You really are sothing else... Fine, I’ll wait for your return."
Giggling cheerfully, Gotham Song slipped out of the room. anwhile, Ramonu sat in silence, softly touching her cheek before reaching for her phone and opening their chat.
There it was—the newly sent photo.
Late afternoon sunlight bathed the two horse girls in warm amber hues. Gotham Song’s face was hidden completely, leaving only silvery hair tinted gold by the fading sun and the elegant curve of her chin clearly visible.
But Ramonu herself appeared unusually vivid, caught in a rare expression of startled affection, eyes wide with surprise yet unmistakably gentle.
Hmm... How should I put it?
After a pause, Ramonu quietly tapped to set the picture as her phone’s wallpaper, then placed her phone back down with a soft sigh.
I suppose it isn’t so bad after all. But since she promised we’d take another one when she returns...
Next ti, perhaps, the one wearing the look of surprise wouldn’t be the elder sister anymore.
My dear little Song.
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