When the crimson light streaked across the finish line like lightning, and those two words flashed upon the massive screen beside the track, Shinzan, standing before the glass window, finally rembered to breathe.
She watched the crimson wave that seed about to set the entire Tokyo Racecourse ablaze, gazing at Dream Weaver waving to the roaring crowd, and an intensely complex emotion welled up in her heart.
Shinzan parted her lips, wanting to say sothing.
But for a mont, she couldn't even grasp how to describe this victory, or how to describe this Uma Musu nad Dream Weaver.
A genius? A monster? For the first ti, Shinzan felt that language was utterly inadequate.
An Uma Musu who had debuted barely a year ago had just shattered a defensive line ford by five Triple Crown-class legends.
No words could capture the shock this mont sent through Shinzan.
And no single word could describe Dream Weaver, the one who had achieved this feat.
She stared blankly at the track, watching the figure of Dream Weaver surrounded by the crowd, and for so reason, began to superimpose her own past self onto that image.
But Shinzan quickly shook her head, pulling herself back to reality.
Dream Weaver was not her, and would never beco her.
Unbound, unfettered, she would undoubtedly accomplish what Shinzan herself never could.
With one last, lingering look at the track, Shinzan softly addressed that crimson silhouette.
"Perhaps… you really can end it all."
Then she turned decisively, leaving the VIP room without a hint of hesitation.
Right now, she had far more important things to do. Dream Weaver had shown Shinzan a glimr of hope, and had steeled her resolve.
She absolutely could not allow herself to just stand there, waiting for ti to slip aninglessly away.
There was only one chance. Shinzan would never let go.
-- --
In another VIP room not far away, Anthony did not smash his glass this ti. He set it down gently on the bar counter, then stumbled on unsteady legs before collapsing limply onto the sofa.
Looking up at the ceiling, which seed strangely blurry, Anthony let out a long, groaning sigh.
"How is this possible… What kind of monster is she…"
"That was five… five Triple Crown-level Uma Musu…"
His thoughts were a tangled ss. Anthony closed his eyes in pain, trying to wipe away all projections about the future.
But no matter how he tried to escape, he was still overwheld by a flood of pessimism, a suffocating weight pressing on his chest until he felt he couldn't breathe.
He could only stare dumbly at the ceiling, emitting a confused, wordless cry.
Richard, who had always offered him comfort, had no energy to spare for Anthony now. He removed his gold-rimd glasses and wearily rubbed his temples.
But no matter how much he rubbed, a dizzying pain kept pulsing in his head.
He felt as though his mind was about to explode, cramd full of countless bad tidings.
As the throbbing in his skull grew more and more irritating, Richard even hurled his glasses violently to the floor. Then, with his expensive leather shoes, he ground the lenses into powder, seeking so small solace in destruction.
Yet even after the glasses were reduced to unrecognizable fragnts, the splitting headache remained.
Breathing heavily, he stumbled to the bar, snatched up a bottle of whiskey—not even glancing at the brand or proof—wrenched off the cap, and gulped it down savagely.
Anthony watched as Richard, his shirt nearly soaked through with spilled liquor, looking as wretched as a drowned rat, and said with empty eyes, "So you've got no ideas left either?"
Hearing this, Richard slamd the whiskey bottle onto the bar, veins bulging in his neck from the force, and rasped at Anthony, "What else can we do?!"
"We lost! We've lost! No matter what the big shots at headquarters think, the two of us are definitely finished!"
Anthony gave a bitter laugh in response. "With a mistake this severe, the people behind won't be able to protect either. And if I'm being cut loose… you certainly don't need to spell out your fate."
"Our careers… probably end right here."
At his words, Richard actually let out a scoff, looking at his soon-to-be-forr superior as if he were a fool.
"Do you really think they're that gentle? They even impose strict institutional shackles on the very Uma Musu who uphold Europe's absolute authority, just to make sure no surprises slip through."
"For replaceable pawns like us, ready to be swapped out at any mont, a mistake like this… it's never just a simple dismissal."
"Not to ntion, once the old guard hears the news, they'll be absolutely livid. And since they can't touch Dream Weaver right now, all that extra fury… it'll land squarely on us."
Saying this, Richard took another fierce swig of whiskey. His speech grew slurred under the assault of alcohol. He tugged at his already soaked shirt, leaning disheveled against the bar, and raised the bottle toward Anthony.
"This is the last ti in our lives we'll get to drink whiskey of this quality."
Then he pointed at the sofa beneath Anthony.
"And the last ti you'll ever sit on a sofa like that."
Watching Anthony's face pale with fear, Richard took another heavy gulp, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Though, right now, I'm actually starting to hope Dream Weaver wins the Triple Crown."
Hearing that, Anthony's eyes widened. He pointed a trembling finger at Richard.
"How can you say that?! Don't you understand the crisis it would cause for Europe's authority if she wins the Triple Crown?!"
"That's the glory Europe's racing world has painstakingly passed down for generations! You—"
Before he could finish, Richard hurled the empty bottle at Anthony.
As Anthony scrambled to dodge, Richard jabbed a finger at him and roared, "What glory?! What damned glory!"
"So-called 'Europe's glory' was severed the mont Dream Weaver broke through that blockade! Right along with those Triple Crown legends!"
Richard's background was much humbler than Anthony's.
He had climbed to his position purely through academic rit. In the education he'd received, Europe's racing world was portrayed as the supre, unchallengeable power.
As a model student, he had deeply internalized that notion.
The more entrenched that impression was, the more devastating its collapse.
And now, foreseeing that both he and Anthony would bear the brunt of the headquarters' wrath, Richard found he no longer cared at all about Europe's inherited glory.
Since they were destined to beco targets for the big shots' fury, Richard might as well pin his hopes on Dream Weaver's success.
At least that way, he could have the satisfaction of laughing at those who used him and Anthony as re punching bags.
-- --
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.
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