Only One Year Left—I'll Become a Legendary Uma Musume! Chapter 232: Only One Year Left—I’ll Become a Legendary Uma

It was the day before the Dubai World Cup.

You could say today every single other piece of news around the globe had to take a back seat—the spotlight belonged solely to the Dubai World Cup.

After all, the official statent that intentionally hinted they were "protecting other contestants" was far too provocative. No matter how people tried, they couldn’t settle on a convincing answer. Thus, during all this ti, the Dubai World Cup and its mysterious entrant beca the center of attention.

Even those racers who’d long been confird on the roster couldn’t resist joining the speculation—especially Astronor, who was openly vocal about it. Another curious Uma Musu was Runner-Up of the Arc, Sakhee—soone Gotham Song vividly rembered.

Under the gaze of the entire world, the Dubai World Cup organizers very naturally announced they would reveal this mysterious, astonishingly secret Uma Musu just one day before the actual race.

And to tease everyone further, the organizers even released a silhouette—completely blacked-out, outlined only by a glowing golden question mark.

When this image hit the internet, public opinion exploded instantly.

Everyone involved in this discussion imdiately realized sothing unsettling—perhaps, just maybe, this mysterious participant truly was the one racer they simultaneously considered "completely impossible" yet "absolutely likely."

Because even though the silhouette didn’t explicitly identify who it was, it already made one thing painfully obvious:

This participant was undeniably an active racer of extraordinary strength—that much was unanimously agreed upon—but the central controversy remained:

Was it Gotham Song or not?

Those who argued against Gotham Song’s participation insisted that while her turf accomplishnts were unmatched, her dirt record was entirely unknown. Jumping from a successful career on turf to the unpredictable dirt tracks—wouldn’t that risk unnecessary damage to her legendary reputation?

Co on, did she really think turf dominance ant automatic dirt-track superiority?

Who exactly did she think she was? Twilight Song? Even Twilight Song’s trajectory had gone from dirt first, then turf, not the reverse!

But those who supported Gotham Song had a different take entirely. Given her career, achievents, and timing, who else but Gotham Song could possibly fit this scenario? As for the switch from turf to dirt?

Please. Gotham Song fans knew very well that she would never abandon a challenge rely out of concern for her "reputation."

So, stop trying to undermine Gotham Song by constantly saying nonsense like, "Who do you think you are, Twilight Song?"

Are Gotham Song’s perseverance, achievents, and courage really so easy to overlook?

Before this silhouette was released, this back-and-forth had already escalated into a global shouting match.

So, why did a re silhouette, which revealed no face, suddenly send half the fans into ecstatic celebration, while the other half fell into despair?

The reason was actually quite simple. Although the silhouette didn’t reveal the racer’s exact identity, it betrayed sothing even more telling:

This mysterious participant looked extrely petite...?

Although her legs appeared slender and proportionately longer than an average girl’s, her overall petite physique was impossible to conceal.

Or rather...

This silhouette made no effort at all to hide her characteristics.

This image was clearly a deliberate move to create hype and subtly confirm everyone’s suspicion—this had to be Gotham Song!

And thus, the entire internet shifted gears. People divided into sharply opposed factions. Supporters were popping champagne and planning massive viewing parties, while detractors either lanted Gotham Song’s rash decision or prematurely mourned her impending defeat as "extre fans."

anwhile, others didn’t bother hiding their disdain at all:

"Just so turf queen, and now you co stomping onto our dirt tracks acting all high and mighty? Let tell you sothing—no matter how invincible you turf punks think you are over there, you better keep your head down here on the dirt. Even Eclipse would have to bow, even Sea-Bird would get grounded."

"You better rember, without the skill, don’t co barking. Dirt-track queens—now that’s true royalty!"

But among the chaos were also so people who seed either painfully objective or ridiculously nitpicky—or maybe just pure trolls. The most infamous among them?

It was a certain post by...

[GalileoDoesntDreamOfWarpDrive]:Trying to research Gotham Song’s past dirt-track footage... eh? How co there’s literally nothing.

At any rate, regardless of how anyone felt, the worldwide frenzy of speculation had led to a single, undeniable fact:

The attention around this Dubai World Cup had reached absolutely unprecedented levels.

Different groups, different beliefs, and different attitudes—yet they all contributed to the sa staggering conclusion. When Gotham Song herself saw this, she could only helplessly sigh.

What am I supposed to say...?

Honestly, in her opinion, the Dubai World Cup organizers were probably also trolling. This whole publicity stunt was clearly designed to stir exactly this kind of madness. Fine, whatever. At least now she looked like an outright villain from every conceivable angle, huh?

Hehe. How should I handle all those doubters?

Even as Gotham Song followed behind a staff mber toward the venue, she was pondering precisely this.

After all, the main reason many people doubted her was simply that Gotham Song had never officially shown her dominance on dirt under this identity.

Ah, too bad. But if it’s a dirt-track race, then...

I’ll arrive, I’ll see, and then—

I’ll conquer.

At this mont, Gotham Song was brimming with confidence. Yet barely thirty seconds later, her mood imdiately soured.

Why?

Because of the scene she was now facing:

She looked up at the prominent "News Studio" sign hanging overhead, then turned sharply to glare at the staff mber. Right now, Gotham Song was wearing her newest Racing Outfit, radiating the majesty of an emperor heading out on a conquest—but she’d just run into sothing entirely unexpected.

Earlier, she’d received a casual invitation from the Dubai World Cup organizers, asking if she’d mind participating in a "small program" to officially announce herself as the mysterious final participant. She hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it would just be a few minutes of simple greetings. So she’d readily agreed, suited up, and co along.

But now, as she stared at the big letters "News Studio," Gotham Song realized sothing with crystal clarity:

These Dubai World Cup organizers really were damn trolls too—what kind of "small program" needed an entire news studio? Was she supposed to awkwardly sit here and endure forced chit-chat for half an hour?

What kind of Uma Musu had to put up with this?

Damned bastards!

When Gotham Song flashed the staff mber a perfectly friendly smile, she received an equally "friendly" but completely unreadable smile in return. Clearly, this woman had expected Gotham Song’s reaction and deliberately remained tight-lipped. Seeing no way out, Gotham Song clicked her tongue and simply pushed open the studio door.

Blinding lights instantly washed over her, followed by countless cara flashes softly diffused through umbrella reflectors. The sheer number of reporters wielding enormous caras told her everything she needed to know.

Tamamo’s sake—it’s a press conference?!

And not only that—one with no script provided beforehand?!

?!

Now Gotham Song was absolutely certain—the Dubai World Cup committee were total, unforgivable trolls. Why no prepared script?

"Oh, we don’t want to restrict your words, Miss Gotham Song. Please, say whatever you like!"

"Even if you openly insult all your opponents on cara, we wholeheartedly support your freedom of speech!"

Gotham Song bit her tongue lightly, then casually walked onto center stage, spacing out and calmly waiting as the host finished a generic introduction.

She had no idea what to say—but she wasn’t panicked either. After countless similar situations, how could so little journalists even fluster her?

Right now, only one thing troubled her mind:

How could she deliver a single short phrase that would burn itself into the entire world’s mory for the coming race?

Hmm... What type of people were doubting her the most right now?

Twilight Song’s diehard "old fans?"

Those dirt-track elitists—those arrogant morons?

Then how could she best trigger both groups at once?

"Now, let’s invite the center of global attention, the mysterious final participant in this Dubai World Cup—Miss Gotham Song! The stage is yours!"

"Stage is mine, huh...?"

Gotham Song stretched her wrists theatrically, rolling up her sleeves for effect, then flashed what she hoped was an appropriately ruthless smile. How best to trigger both groups at once? Ah, she just got the perfect idea.

"I can’t be bothered to say too much, but well... this race is on dirt, after all. And it’s my first dirt race too..."

Normally, one might display humility, maybe hold back a little to avoid embarrassnt in case of failure.

But unfortunately for you all—perhaps this is your first ti opposing Gotham Song, but...

This isn’t my first ti stomping over worldwide opposition on dirt.

Back when I was chasing the Arican Triple Crown, planning a historic six-classic sweep across dirt and turf, I faced way harsher criticism than now!

This is nothing compared to that.

Bring it on!

"But well, how about I just casually pull off a huge-margin victory first? I’m already thinking about who my next opponents might be... or perhaps I’ll shift my attention to the small fry who might bother my precious trainee or my team."

That ought to do it.

Silence swallowed the room. Everyone stared, dumbstruck by Gotham Song’s blatant provocation. Even the host, who had eagerly anticipated sothing exciting, froze wide-eyed.

This wasn’t excitent—it was pure arrogance, utterly outrageous! Who dared to speak like that at a press conference?

Yet, after a brief silence, the only remaining emotion was absolute delight. This declaration guaranteed the highest possible attention.

Reporters eagerly jumped at the chance:

"So, Miss Gotham Song, you’re saying you’ll dominate everyone in this race by a huge margin?"

"Even on dirt, you’ll crush everyone as the Demon Lord—is that right?"

Gotham Song’s smile was beautifully cruel:

"If you’re doubting whether my words were exaggerated, let clarify once more."

"They’re just losers—and those who barely beat losers. That’s exactly what I said."

"A huge margin—without any surprises."