Chapter 97.
On Sunday night, after drilling Mejiro Dober on the grueling mechanics of high-speed cornering until she could barely stand, an utterly exhausted Shuta An collapsed into bed and instantly drifted off.
In tonight's Dream World, the scenery shifted back to Kanto.
He stood beneath the towering lights of the Tokyo Racecourse, having accepted an exclusive invitation from Teruya Yoshida.
His mount for the night? Sincerity, a fiery Sunday Silence progeny owned by the prestigious Shadai Race Horse Club.
Sincerity was under the care of Trainer Yasuhisa Matsuyama, a man Shuta An had never officially collaborated with. Even during the young man's brief "study trip" to Kanto to work with Rice Shower, Matsuyama had never extended an offer for him to ride.
"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Shuta-kun."
Sincerity's groom, Higashisachi, greeted him at the waiting paddock. But beneath the polite veneer, a profound, lingering doubt festered in the groom's eyes.
"Hello, Groom Higashisachi." Shuta An nodded, expertly settling into the saddle. "Sincerity's physical condition feels phenomenal. You have clearly taken excellent care of him."
"I am merely doing my job." Higashisachi replied, his gaze lowering. "This is your first time ever making contact with Sincerity today. I trust there won't be any... complications?"
The young man immediately caught the hidden barb. Higashisachi's frustration was entirely justified.
Shuta An was stepping in to guide Sincerity in a crucial Maiden Race, yet he hadn't bothered to visit the Miho Training Center a single time this week to familiarize himself with the colt.
Tonight was their very first meeting. To the groom, it meant Shuta An was flying completely blind. How could a jockey possibly draw out the true potential of a notoriously temperamental Sunday Silence bloodline under these conditions?
Collaborating with the legendary Shuta An was supposed to be a massive honor, but why isn't he putting in the slightest bit of effort himself?
Higashisachi thought, a bitter taste rising in his mouth.
Shuta An didn't care in the slightest about the groom's internal crisis. Thanks to the absolute, passive authority granted by his SS Creator trait, Sincerity was terrifyingly obedient beneath him.
With a subtle, precise squeeze of his legs, Sincerity immediately surged forward, the acceleration smooth and instantaneous. Shuta An smiled, deeply satisfied with the bio-feedback.
For a 1600-meter turf Maiden Race in Tokyo, you absolutely have to ride proactively.
The young man analyzed. He knew this specific track like the back of his hand—after all, in the waking world, he had relentlessly conditioned Mejiro Dober to conquer this exact turf during the first half of the year.
Sincerity had drawn Gate 3.
The moment the gates crashed open, Shuta An immediately initiated a highly aggressive push ride, violently driving Sincerity directly into the third-place position.
"Shuta-kun's push riding always looks so incredibly violent."
Matsuyama murmured from the grandstands, his eyes narrowed in intense observation.
"Sincerity has never been subjected to that kind of physical pressure in training." Higashisachi agreed, his voice laced with mounting anxiety. "Can he actually adapt to a rhythm that aggressive?"
"He will be absolutely fine." Matsuyama stated with unshakable confidence. "Sincerity possesses a highly resilient spirit, and countless horses with far worse temperaments have flourished under Shuta-kun's whip. He may be debuting tonight, but there is zero logical reason for him to break down now."
This is entirely unreasonable, Higashisachi muttered internally. If Shuta-kun can flawlessly dominate a Sunday Silence colt on his very first ride, his raw skill isn't just elite—it completely eclipses every other jockey in Japan.
He simply couldn't fathom how the notoriously fiery temper of a Sunday Silence progeny had been instantly subjugated without a single prior training session.
—
Unbothered by the gallery, Shuta An clamped Sincerity tightly against the inside rail, sweeping into the final corner holding a commanding second place.
Secure a dominant leading position, then test exactly what kind of explosive acceleration the whip can trigger.
Shuta An plotted.
After all, Sincerity was a colt. Next year, when the Classic Race season arrived, Shuta An would have to make a brutal choice between him and Fuji Kiseki.
The evaluation had to start right now.
As they tore into the final straight, Shuta An snapped the whip exactly as planned. Sincerity responded instantly, surging forward, but the burst of speed felt undeniably... dull. It lacked that terrifying, razor-sharp edge.
With exactly 300 meters left to the finish line, the young man let out a helpless sigh. Knowing he had to force the issue, he seamlessly transitioned into his signature, brutal windmill whip technique.
Hearing the terrifying, rhythmic crack of Shuta An's whip echoing from behind, Koichi Tsunoda—the jockey piloting the front-runner, Air Luge, who had mistakenly believed victory was assured—panicked and immediately mirrored the motion.
But when it came to the grueling combination of windmill whipping and aggressive push riding, Shuta An was the undisputed peak of the Japanese turf. Even with Tsunoda burning every ounce of his stamina, he was utterly powerless to stop Shuta An and Sincerity from steadily, inevitably grinding past him.
"Hiss—!" Higashisachi sucked in a sharp breath. "He actually caught up with that?! Sincerity is responding to a total stranger's commands with that much absolute loyalty?!"
The training assistant's eyes practically bulged out of his skull.
"This is a completely different horse! He never showed this kind of lethal drive in training!"
"And that right there is precisely why Shuta-kun is the number one jockey in Japan." Matsuyama said, turning to his stunned staff with a proud smirk. "You all still have a mountain of things to learn."
Higashisachi's cheeks burned with profound shame, recalling the passive-aggressive barb he had thrown at the young man earlier.
Fueled by Shuta An's relentless push riding and windmill whip in the final 300 meters, Sincerity was forced to unleash a devastating final burst, clocking exactly 34.0 seconds in the last three furlongs. They smoothly blew past Air Luge, crossing the finish line with a comfortable 0.4-second margin of victory.
"IT'S SHUTA AN AND A SUNDAY SILENCE PROGENY ONCE AGAIN! THE SUNDAY SILENCE BLOODLINE IS ABSOLUTELY EXPLODING ONTO THE SCENE! SINCERITY AND FUJI KISEKI—JUST WHICH ONE WILL SHUTA AN CHOOSE TO CONQUER THE CLASSIC CROWN WITH NEXT YEAR?!"
The live commentator roared, his voice cracking with pure hype.
"It's literally just a Maiden Race, and they're already crowning him for the Classics?" a random spectator muttered in disbelief.
But in the VIP boxes, the investors of the Shadai Race Horse Club were in absolute ecstasy.
The Classic Races!
It had been seven or eight agonizing years since a horse bearing the Shadai colors had claimed a Classic title. Hearing the commentator officially deem Sincerity a Classic-caliber contender was enough to ignite a frenzy of euphoria among the elite members.
Teruya Yoshida watched the chaotic celebration in his luxury suite, a sharp, satisfied smile playing on his lips.
"It seems my father's vision was absolute. Sunday Silence will undoubtedly be the engine that propels Shadai to the absolute pinnacle."
Seeing the terrifying, undeniable results of the Sunday Silence lineage, the lingering administrative headache of Oguri Cap consuming vast resources without producing top-tier results could finally be swept under the rug.
We will just let Oguri live out a comfortable retirement, Yoshida reasoned. Shuta-kun explicitly warned us back then that he didn't expect Oguri Cap's offspring to achieve greatness on the turf—Perhaps that boy possesses a foresight that borders on clairvoyance.
Thinking of this, Yoshida's admiration for the young man—who was currently guiding Sincerity back to the dismounting enclosure—deepened significantly.
Katsumi has already built an incredibly strong bond with Shuta. I absolutely cannot afford to fall behind my own brother, Yoshida narrowed his eyes, his corporate instincts flaring. It's a genuine pity the age gap is slightly too wide, otherwise, I would seriously consider having Akiko reach out to him.
He was completely oblivious to the grand, sweeping plans Shuta An was quietly orchestrating in the real world.