Beneath the heavy armor, her bulging muscles gleamed like gold—the culmination of Toyama T's life's work, the pinnacle of training.
"What?!"
The brief clash sent her reeling back. Coercion proved useless against Mihono Bourbon's true form—a performance monster meticulously honed for speed.
"Sprint command executed."
From that kick onward, everything changed. Her wings sliced through the air, leaving sonic booms in their wake. Like a dazzling ray of light, she streaked across the battlefield, breaking free from the pack. The undefeated Two-Crown King materialized from another dimension and surged forward in an instant.
"So fast!!!"
The timer on the bomb went haywire, its erratic jumps a manifestation of her mental turmoil. They had believed their advantage would suppress Bourbon, but instead, her sheer acceleration had broken free from Kyoei Bowgun's relentless pursuit.
The title of "Greatest of Generations" was no mere boast.
"It's not over yet!"
Just as everyone thought they could breathe a sigh of relief, the crimson flames burned even more fiercely.
"Bourbon hasn't shaken her off!"
Among the Front-Runners, Bourbon's acceleration was in a league of its own. Combined with her innate speed and relentless training, even Kyoei Bowgun's seemingly teleporting strike couldn't escape her grasp.
Crimson chains pierced through the fiery clouds, coiling around Bourbon's legs. A faint flicker of emotion stirred in her usually emotionless eyes. Heavy footsteps echoed, as if the other end of the chains bound something ominous.
60 seconds!
The countdown continued relentlessly, as if everything that had just transpired was merely an illusion.
"I have to run! I have to beat Bourbon! I never want to hear those words again!"
Kyoei Bowgun demonstrated extraordinary willpower, running neck-and-neck with Bourbon on the final straight.
"It hurts... my whole body aches unbearably! Will I collapse before the countdown ends?" Kyoei Bowgun gritted her teeth, unable to suppress the question.
Is this even worth it?
"So what if you give 120%? Even if you run, it won't matter, will it?"
Against an opponent like Mihono Bourbon, such a response seemed inevitable. But for Kyoei Bowgun's Trainer, these words were taboo. In terms of both popularity and skill, Kyoei Bowgun was utterly outmatched by Bourbon. No one expected her to win, and no one anticipated her to excel.
Even her own Trainer shared this sentiment. Yet Kyoei Bowgun vividly remembered the vow they had made together when she was first selected:
"Let's walk the path to becoming the strongest, together!"
Second Turn.
The turning point of the mid-race. If she couldn't shake off Kyoei Bowgun on the straightaway, the turn was her chance!
Kyoei Bowgun wasn't skilled at cornering. The pair, evenly matched on the straight, made the outcome of their battle on the turn a foregone conclusion. She couldn't replicate the reckless cornering from the first turn.
"I know, I know I can't block you like I did on the first turn. Doesn't matter! I'm going to beat you today, no matter what!"
Bourbon executed the same maneuver, her superior cornering technique giving her the advantage. She thought she had shaken off Kyoei Bowgun, but all she heard was the sound of the chain straining taut.
"Where do you think you're going, Bourbon?"
No one knew how it happened, but Kyoei Bowgun had simply appeared beside Bourbon. The chain bound them tightly together, and even Bourbon could feel the exhaustion radiating from the other end of the chain.
Why is she still running? Why hasn't she stopped?
Cyborg's pupils began to tremble, as something incomprehensible shook her very core.
"You're faltering, Bourbon," Kyoei Bowgun observed from their close proximity, a flicker of pleasure stirring in her exhausted heart as she noticed Bourbon's unease.
"Trainer, you were right all along."
Whenever Cyborg claimed the lead, Bourbon would falter. She seemed to lose her composure, unable to maintain her rhythm. For Cyborg, this was a fatal flaw. Despite running in a straight line, Bourbon couldn't close the gap with Kyoei Bowgun, and the audience's hearts hung in suspense.
In the crowd, a masked man's gaze remained fixed on Kyoei Bowgun on the racetrack. With heavy steps, he continued forward, one after another. Knowing that destruction awaited him, he refused to stop. His stubbornness was both admirable and heartbreaking.
"Kyoei Bowgun..."
What had begun as a faint worry had now solidified into tangible fear. Fear of failure, fear of a future that fell short of expectations—the true demon lurked in the depths of his heart.
"Stop! Don't! Stop running! Kyoei Bowgun?!" Once the fuse was lit, panic would spread infinitely.
"I told you not to compete with Bourbon for the lead! Why did you do this?!"
When primal fear takes over the mind, reason is lost. Kyoei Bowgun, locked in a desperate duel with Bourbon on the track, naturally couldn't hear the audience's cries.
Every word of their panic reached the masked man's ears, and he clenched his fist in silent fury.
"Shut up! Don't embarrass yourselves!"
The thunderous roar came from a burly man in sunglasses, Toyama, his gaze piercing through the tinted lenses, searing into the crowd's faces.
"If you believe in Bourbon, stop panicking! Even without resorting to such vile tactics, Bourbon won't lose!"
This taciturn giant's rebuke was utterly unprecedented.
"Restrictions lifted. Thrusters at 100%. Network restored. Commencing corrections. Predicted results: 1, 2, 3..."
The surging heat of the thrusters, the unfolding steel wings stretching upward from the horizon—the bloodstained wings erupting from her back were like hands reaching for the sky.
"Get out of the way!"
The racetrack trembled under the Cyborg's thunderous strides, its turbulent pages flapping wildly in the storm. Precision-engineered legs galloped with dazzling, floral grace, each stride exuding regal might.
The choice to take the lead wasn't born of panic amidst the pack; it stemmed from pride. Beneath the Cyborg's polished exterior lay an insatiable will, a shadow untouched since the classic campaign began.
Untouchable Shadow
The gap narrowed, the parallel pace breaking as Mihono Bourbon's shadow receded further and further. Kyoei Bowgun's powerful legs could no longer reach Bourbon's shadow.
It felt like an omen—a prelude to a one-sided slaughter.
"No! Not a chance!"
Countless sleepless nights spent longing for this day... she refused to let it end like this.
"I don't want to win. I just don't want to lose."
We will never lose to Bourbon.
In a final, hysterical burst, she willed her battered body forward. Even as Mihono Bourbon pushed her limits, she couldn't shake free—it defied comprehension.
It was utterly incomprehensible. Despite having nothing left in her frame, she still held Bourbon at bay by half a length.
"I know I can't beat Bourbon, but I refuse to run away. I can't stand it. I can't bear hearing people call my beloved Trainer an 'Inferior Trainer.' I won't let anyone mock our dream. Ah..."
"I can't take it anymore... Why won't you just retire gracefully, you idiot!"
Even the world's villains are someone's heroes.
"At least leave with dignity. For the rest of your life, you wouldn't have to suffer from constant injuries. You could laugh freely and live a healthy life. But you just can't make the right choice, can you, you stubborn Front-Runner..."
Among the tens of thousands of spectators, only he had come for her.
"My name is Kyoei Bowgun—"
I only wish to walk hand in hand, sharing our robes together.
As predicted, the incline became the doom of all Front-Runners. The inevitable collapse brought the absurd 3,000-meter drama to a hasty conclusion. Her life-or-death escape had earned her only a fleeting moment to clash with Bourbon. After suppressing the undisputed champion of generations for ninety percent of the race, the clock finally stopped. The fool ultimately slumbered in the depths of Kikuka Valley.
Surpassing the collapsed Kyoei Bowgun, Bourbon finally seized the lead. Unchallenged, uncontested, she entered the true climax of the race.
Rejoice, for you are about to witness the birth of yet another Triple Crown Winner!
"Go, Bourbon!"
Once the threat vanished, their faces shifted, as if their earlier ugliness had never existed. Bourbon glided up the incline as effortlessly as walking on flat ground, treating the nightmares that haunted countless Front-Runners as mere toys in her palm. The greatest of all time—
A ramp specialist.
Even after witnessing Bourbon's forbidden ramp acceleration, the world still saw her that way.
The Triple Crown was within reach, and Mihono Bourbon's name would surely be etched in history forever!
"How careless of you, Bourbon."
Her breath caught. Petals danced in the air as Thorn Flowers bloomed, carving a path forward.
"Warning! Warning! Blue Unit approaching! Blue Unit approaching!"
Drawing the Regicide dagger, the Blue Rose Assassin surged from the Deep Outer Lane!
"Run! Run! Mihono Bourbon! Run for your life!"
The roaring cheers that once fueled her now surged back as a tempestuous tide, relentlessly crashing against Bourbon. The jet-black assassin bared her blade, her name—Rice Shower!
"Coolant injection! Limiters fully released!"
Route confirmed! Thrusters at maximum! All systems go!
Open the unknown Gate and cross to the Dimensional realm beyond.
The arena erupted in commotion. Beyond the 2,400-meter mark lay uncharted territory. Mihono Bourbon truly felt it, touched it—an invisible wall, seemingly insurmountable, truly existed.
Common sense was the enemy.
For generations, defeating Mihono Bourbon had been the ultimate goal. Yet her true opponent wasn't any individual from these generations.
She was challenging centuries of absurd notions about lineage, the pervasive societal consensus. Shattering the limitations of innate talent to affirm the value of relentless effort.
Toyama never asked Bourbon why she was so determined to win the Triple Crown, and Bourbon never volunteered the reason.
These two, who monopolized the glory and honor of their generation, carried the weight of countless dreams and shouldered inescapable responsibilities. They challenged for the most distant prize with a sprinter's mentality.
The Blue Assassin closed in relentlessly, and amidst the roaring cheers at the racetrack, an indescribable wail seemed to rise.
"Faster! Faster! You have to go even faster!"
Mihono Bourbon continued to push herself, people shouting in the hope that their voices would become her strength. This Umamusume, who had never been blessed by the Three Goddesses, was driving toward something beyond their comprehension.
The Mediocre Talent, who had been crawling on the ground, raised her head. Suddenly, one day, she made a decision. She reached for the sky, leaped high, and never touched the ground again.
At 3 minutes and 5 seconds, the Jet Black Assassin's dagger pierced the Cyborg's heart. Before the Throne, the false King fell at the Kingslayer's feet.
"I won! Rice Shower beat Bourbon!" Rice Shower cheered triumphantly, reveling in her hard-earned victory.
But...
The silence of Kyoto Racecourse offered Rice Shower neither applause nor celebration.
"Why did you have to charge ahead like that?! Couldn't you have just stayed back where you belonged?!"
"It's all your fault!"
A deafening chorus of boos and jeers rained down. Rice Shower couldn't understand why this was happening. The crowd's faces seemed to twist into demonic masks.
"No, that's not... Rice Shower just wanted to..."
Her feeble protests were swallowed by the torrent of verbal abuse. A hard-won victory had become riddled with wounds.
"Why even compete if you know you can't win?!"
"That pointless Umamusume insisted on running! Does sabotaging Bourbon give you some kind of satisfaction?!"
The accusations and insults crashed down like a tidal wave, yet the Umamusume they were targeting had already fallen silent. But the crowd's venomous tongues refused to spare this racer who had burned herself out.
"Rice Shower and Kyoei Bowgun! You never should have been in this race!"
In an instant, Rice Shower's world drained of color, leaving only a bleak grayness. She could no longer see a single trace of color.
Suddenly, Bourbon's right leg seized with excruciating pain, forcing her to collapse to the ground. The unexpected incident silenced the crowd. Rice Shower stared at Bourbon in horror, paralyzed by fear.
Countless gazes pierced Rice Shower's skin with pinpoint accuracy. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. Kashimoto Riko intervened, and Bourbon was lifted onto a stretcher.
Before the two dearest friends could exchange a word, an iron gate slammed shut between them, silencing even their voices in Rice Shower's world.
"It's all Rice Shower's fault. It must be her selfish wish for happiness that caused this."
Could there truly be right and wrong in running?
Malice spares no target, and the Blue Rose is stained with the world's dirt.
"Rice Shower doesn't want to run anymore—"