New York International Airport.
After who knows how long since leaving Arica, Gotham Song had suddenly returned again.
How should one describe this situation?
If you told soone, "I need to take a trip abroad," normally they’d assu you had sothing incredibly important to do, right?
And if you told them you were traveling overseas just to visit a certain ani convention, they’d probably still support you—assuming, without a second thought, that it must be so super-large-scale, once-a-year, internationally renowned event to warrant such a trip, right?
But if you told them the event was actually just a minor, ordinary convention in a random city, barely larger than those hotel gatherings, they’d definitely stare at you with an incredibly strange look:
You went through all this trouble, flew from Japan to Arica, and will still spend hours in transit—all for sothing like this?
Are you insane?!
If it was soone less familiar with you, they’d probably react exactly like that.
Gotham Song could fully understand that reaction—because if soone else told her they were doing sothing similar, she’d probably think they were crazy too. But right now, she didn’t have that luxury. Absolutely not.
Because the crazy person this ti...was herself.
Ugh. Truly beyond comprehension. Thankfully, though the reason for this trip might seem absurdly abstract, those around her didn’t mind at all. In fact, they wholeheartedly supported her—enough to fly right alongside her, traveling all the way across the ocean, back to Arica once more.
Everyone seed pretty exhausted...except for Flightline, who had returned to Arican soil, instantly becoming as hyperactive as a husky.
Quite literally, the pale-skinned, black-haired, energetically bouncing Flightline now resembled a suddenly revived, two-ter-tall husky running everywhere uncontrollably. Truly, the description couldn’t be more accurate.
Seeing this, Gotham Song couldn’t help but laugh. Glancing at jiro Ardan and Manhattan Cafe beside her, she found her two sisters had similarly helpless expressions on their faces.
Well, this is just how Flightline is. Let’s treat it as walking a dog—let her bounce around a bit, and perhaps she’ll tire herself out. Maybe the ti in Japan had built up stress, after all?
Still, how should I put this? Although Flightline herself hadn’t noticed, and even though she’d constantly lost her speed on Japanese turf, getting beaten repeatedly by Gentildonna and the others—
In Gotham Song’s eyes, at least, Flightline’s basic strength had already improved significantly. Of course, her silly behavior on the track still frequently placed her into embarrassing situations, but this was an issue that couldn’t be solved without actually racing.
Maybe it was finally ti for Flightline to officially start her new year?
I’ll discuss it with that old Dancing Brave after we return.
Having firmly made up her mind, Gotham Song took her luggage and boarded Secretariat’s car along with her sisters and Flightline.
"Welco back to Arica. Though, this ti you won’t be staying very long either, right, Song?"
"Of course not. I just ca to settle so issues... Speaking of which, that promotional image was sent to Cafe-nee by you, wasn’t it?"
Secretariat remained silent, nervously averting her gaze to the side, then quickly stepped on the accelerator to start the car.
Of course it had been her. Not that she’d conspired with those Dream Cup girls intentionally; rather, as the Director of Arican Central Tracen, Secretariat had to personally check everything related to Uma Musu in Arica. It was during routine work that she clearly saw the very promotional image that had led to today’s encounter.
Without a second thought, she’d imdiately forwarded it to Manhattan Cafe.
Secretariat glanced over at the Uma Musu sitting beside her in the passenger seat, feeling slightly helpless herself.
She just hadn’t expected Song to act so quickly... But, hehe, if it’s those legendary figures, it might actually be pretty exciting...?
Secretariat felt absolutely no fear. After all, as a legendary Uma Musu herself in the modern era, getting the chance to clash directly and fiercely with those ancient figures...
Just imagining this scenario nearly made Secretariat break into a sinister grin.
Don’t disappoint , you ancient bastards from history. If your strength isn’t enough to impress , I’ll grind you rcilessly beneath my feet, mocking you without the slightest pity.
Heh... Hahahahaha...
Seeing Secretariat beside her making such a terrifying expression, Gotham Song instantly abandoned any thoughts of trying to communicate further with Secretariat in this state.
How to describe it? It felt like if she spoke up now, it would instantly beco one of those scenarios where the two of them would spend tonight alone on a racetrack, going all-out against each other.
I really don’t want to—fight!—thank you very much.
No matter what, absolutely not today!
Skipping the opening, skipping the ending—though airplanes had practically beco part of Gotham Song’s life by now, even sothing done daily could still leave you utterly exhausted. After enduring several more hours of travel, Gotham Song just wanted to return ho and collapse onto that familiar yet sowhat unfamiliar bed of hers.
So, she chose to beco a silent, cowardly lizard, pretending not to notice Secretariat’s aningful glances and refusing to give even the slightest response.
Keep hinting all you want—I lose the mont I acknowledge you!
She had truly lost hope in this world, where these runners would break into a run at the slightest provocation. Was running addictive or sothing? Maybe if the world ended tomorrow, they’d still insist on defeating the villains by racing them...!
It felt like the Uma Musu of this world would one day just transcend into beams of light, surpassing the limits of ti and existence entirely.
Secretariat had clearly expected Gotham Song’s feigned deafness, but rather than feeling disappointed at the lack of response, she seed oddly satisfied. After all, this was just how Gotham Song always acted. If she suddenly gave an enthusiastic response, Secretariat would instead find herself confused.
Did the sun rise from the west today? Has Gotham Song finally and completely snapped?!
That would probably be her thought.
Yet, on second thought, that scenario was impossible—
But if it really did happen, Secretariat would actually find herself... impossibly excited, hehe.
I really want to see Gotham Song snap completely soday!
"Ahem. By the way, how did things from before turn out?"
"The things from before...?"
Secretariat looked montarily confused, silently admitting to herself that Gotham Song’s attempt at changing the topic had indeed worked perfectly.
"The nutritional drugs. I haven’t paid attention at all since returning to Japan."
"Oh, that," Secretariat scoffed. "What other outco could there be? Counting your involvent, that company had already been infiltrated so thoroughly it looked like a sieve. The only reason we hadn’t taken action sooner was because the key evidence was so well protected."
Secretariat’s tone was openly disdainful, but Gotham Song clearly caught the subtle, frustrated expression hidden beneath her prideful words—a look of helplessness and headache.
"So the mont you left for Dubai, we imdiately raided the company. At least officially, there are no more nutritional drugs of that sort openly available on the market."
"No more openly available, huh...?" That’s a pretty vague statent...
What exactly had happened to cause Secretariat such obvious distress?
"You haven’t told everything. The aftermath still hasn’t been completely resolved, right?"
"Ah... You just had to be sharp about sothing like this, huh? Fine, fine. Just as you guessed, Song, though we’ve eliminated the production source, the competitive environnt—shaped by this long-standing culture—won’t turn around so easily."
"Especially..."
Secretariat’s voice lowered, genuinely uncertain about how to handle the situation. For once, even soone as seemingly confident as herself revealed clear, undeniable confusion.
"Think about it: countless ordinary Uma Musu, who originally never had a chance to compete against talented girls, found opportunities by hurting themselves with these drugs. Many even achieved results. But now, you’re telling those Uma Musu who idolized the struggles and successes of these ordinary runners that they can’t follow the sa path."
"You don’t need to explain what happens next, right?"
Secretariat could deeply understand it—perhaps precisely because she herself was talented, she could comprehend even more clearly the pain of those who relied on such drastic thods.
It wasn’t simply weakness or self-abandonnt. In fact, those Uma Musu who resorted to such ans might be even stronger than naturally talented ones.
It wasn’t about undervaluing effort, but rather about understanding how heavy the phrase "You have no talent" was to an Uma Musu. Those who had never felt the barrier of talent in their lifeti might never truly grasp this weight.
Every Uma Musu was born dreaming of becoming a runner. Without exception, they all experienced their greatest joy and thrill while running. Given this fact, what were the young foals most terrified of?
It was being told during talent assessnts: You have none. You absolutely have no potential to beco a runner. For the rest of your life, you’ll only ever be an ordinary Uma Musu...!
For young foals, such words were no less cruel than a death sentence. It completely robbed those fragile Uma Musu of the right to step onto the racetrack—even the local races—and feel the cool breeze they’d longed for, sothing only possible while racing.
This was the cruelty of the Uma Musu world: those who managed to enter even the local racing circuits were already enviable, one-in-a-hundred existences.
So what exactly was the limitation that even effort alone couldn’t overco for those who never qualified for local races, or for those stuck there dreaming of reaching Central, then going global?
It was talent.
Secretariat had clearly felt it herself, back when Arican racing was purer and she had not yet beco legendary. At that ti, she’d never worried about losing to anyone—for a very simple reason:
She had been born inherently superior to all the other Uma Musu—stronger, faster, simply better.
Those other girls might have trained day and night, yet they still couldn’t match Secretariat, who even occasionally slacked off...!
They never even stood a chance—!
That was the true, cruel gap of talent. And perhaps the clearest example was sitting right beside her, in the passenger seat.
It was said that during her legendary year, Twilight Song hadn’t engaged in any extra training whatsoever. She rely ran casually each day to maintain her form, yet easily crushed even Dancing Brave, who was still in peak condition at the ti.
This was talent—the raw talent of runners.
This was precisely why so many Uma Musu resorted to thods beyond re effort. It wasn’t weakness, escapism, or unwillingness to put in effort—quite the opposite.
Maybe they’d already pushed their efforts to their absolute limits, yet even so, they still couldn’t catch up to those frighteningly gifted monsters?
Humans couldn’t defeat beasts bare-handed. If they wanted to surpass monsters with their own bodies alone, they’d have to beco monsters themselves, wouldn’t they?
Stronger than anyone. Faster than anyone. Unbeatable and unstoppable... Those things could never be achieved by pure effort alone!
That was precisely the source of Secretariat’s current headache.
What she’d done effectively strangled the dreams and youth of those talentless Uma Musu, directly killing off their determination to offer even their very lives for victory through these drugs.
Of course, there were undoubtedly those with malicious intentions—if they were ordinary humans, things wouldn’t be nearly as complicated. But the problem was...
The group involved wasn’t ordinary humans at all. It was these pure-hearted Uma Musu, determined enough to rise up again even if they were bleeding, willing to fight for victory at all costs.
"Just thinking about it leaves at a loss about how to handle the situation..."
Gotham Song sighed. After hearing Secretariat describe the root of the issue, she fully grasped the terrible ss Secretariat was dealing with, leaving even an observer like herself deeply troubled.
"Yeah. It’s extrely difficult to resolve. Although I’ve been Director for many years now, you know sothing, Song?"
"This is the only situation in my entire career for which I absolutely can’t find a solution."
"How do we solve sothing like this...?"
Secretariat’s voice faded into silence, filled with helplessness.
But Gotham Song just looked quietly out the window.
"If a problem is destined to have no solution, then perhaps we shouldn’t try solving it. This isn’t sothing you can resolve by yourself."
"Rather, perhaps these kinds of problems will always be part of being a runner."
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