Chapter 102.
Indeed, they were practically racing in two different dimensions.
Entering the long backstretch, Twin Turbo completely forgot about the field behind her. She simply tucked her chin and charged forward with a manic, unhinged ferocity usually reserved for sprinters hitting the final 200 meters.
From a safe distance back, Mejiro Palmer watched Turbo's kamikaze effort with grim fascination, firmly choosing to anchor the vanguard at her own sustainable rhythm.
"That is absolutely not the pace you should be running in a 2000-meter race!"
Mejiro McQueen muttered, peering over Palmer's shoulder at Turbo's rapidly blurring figure in the distance.
"Just as I suspected, I have to stick to Palmer's tempo!"
Running side-by-side a few lengths back, Mejiro Dober and Nice Nature seemed perfectly content to bide their time, neither showing any intention of pressuring McQueen just yet.
If Turbo continues grinding at this pace, her legs are going to turn to lead by the time she hits the final bend, Dober calculated coldly, hugging the inside rail. Once she inevitably stalls out, I can shift my focus entirely to overtaking Palmer.
At the absolute rear of the pack, Mejiro Bright was already struggling to maintain contact with the main group.
As expected, I'm already reaching my limit—
Bright thought. Though her serene smile never wavered, she knew the brutal reality of her physical decline.
This race truly is the perfect stage for my retirement. Even if I fade into the background, I will serve as a beautiful foil for Dober or McQueen. If I tried to push my luck to the Arima Kinen or the Japan Cup, I would only be a bystander to Tokai Teio's brilliance anyway.
Up in the broadcast booth, the live commentator reluctantly peeled his eyes away from the runaway phantom.
"LET'S CHECK ON THE MAIN PACK! MEJIRO PALMER CONTINUES TO COMFORTABLY ANCHOR SECOND PLACE! A LENGTH AND A HALF BEHIND HER IS MEJIRO MCQUEEN! MEJIRO DOBER AND NICE NATURE ARE RUNNING SHOULDER-TO-SHOULDER, TRAILING MCQUEEN BY TWO LENGTHS!"
In the VIP suite, Kurofune leaned forward, analyzing the monitor.
"Is there a chance Nice Nature could intentionally block Senior Dober's line? She is running on the outside right now. If she times her acceleration perfectly, she could easily box Senior Dober in if Dober tries to cut a diagonal path outside."
Shuta An considered it for a moment before shaking his head.
"I wouldn't worry too much about that. Notice how neither McQueen nor Palmer have chosen to run tight against the rail? Dober can easily choose a highly aggressive inner-track sprint route when the time comes."
When Uma Musumes hit their maximum sprint velocity, the overwhelming majority suffer from centrifugal drift, naturally pulling toward the outside of the track.
Palmer and McQueen were both susceptible to this drift. In his entire career, Shuta An had only witnessed a handful of elite runners capable of sprinting at absolute top speed while maintaining a flawless, razor-straight trajectory—Secretariat being the prime example.
Mejiro Dober also suffered from slight drift at maximum velocity, but Shuta An knew she wouldn't need to hit her absolute top speed just to secure a passing lane. In his mind, the inner route was perfectly viable.
As Twin Turbo approached the massive zelkova tree marking the final bend, the stadium jumbo-tron flashed the elapsed time for the first 1000 meters: 58.6 seconds.
"A blistering pace, right within my expectations."
Shuta An muttered, though his brows furrowed deeply.
Because Mejiro Palmer was currently lagging nearly twenty horse-lengths behind Turbo, the vanguard's true 1000-meter split was hovering around a lethargic 61 seconds.
"Turbo isn't showing any critical signs of deceleration yet. She's likely only going to hit the wall after she officially turns into the final straight... but a twenty-length gap... if Dober waits until the final straight to start closing that..."
Shuta An trailed off, his jaw tightening.
"Should we initiate an early acceleration right here?"
Admire Vega asked abruptly. Though she wasn't entirely confident in her tactical read, she knew her Trainer would give her an honest answer. Desperate to elevate her race-reading IQ, she wasn't afraid of asking a stupid question.
The young man turned to her, unsurprised by her sharp intuition.
"You're not wrong in theory, Ayabe. But the timing of a premature acceleration requires surgical precision."
"If Dober accelerates right here, McQueen and Nature will instantly react and make their own moves. It will become a chaotic dogfight just to break out of the pack." Shuta An explained. "Nature is a wildcard, but the moment McQueen senses Dober accelerating, she will absolutely slam the door shut on the inner lane. Nature might even use the chaos to slingshot forward. If that happens, Dober will be completely boxed in."
"So she has to wait for the bend?" Kurofune raised an eyebrow. "Use the curve to slip out on the inside, and then detonate her acceleration to break free?"
"It entirely depends on what McQueen and Palmer decide to do."
Shuta An said, his eyes glued to the screen. Even he couldn't pinpoint the exact, optimal moment to strike.
Down on the turf, Mejiro Dober was having the exact same internal debate. Seeing the monstrous gap Turbo had carved out, her instinct screamed at her to accelerate immediately.
But staring at McQueen's broad back just ahead of her, Dober knew the trap. If she fired her engines now, McQueen would easily drift down and block her line. Dober would be forced to hit the brakes, violently adjust her route outward, and burn precious stamina trying to accelerate a second time.
That kind of chaotic start-and-stop sequence would utterly shatter her rhythm. While Dober was highly resilient to pace fluctuations, she absolutely refused to make a tactical blunder of that magnitude in the Tenno Sho.
I'll wait just a little longer. I'll wait to see when McQueen flinches—The second she realizes she has to move; I'll move with her.
Dober resolved.
She knew McQueen would realize the danger very soon. McQueen's raw explosive power was inferior to Dober's; if McQueen wanted any hope of running down Twin Turbo, she had to initiate a long, sustained early spurt.
"TWIN TURBO IS STILL DOMINATING THE VANGUARD! SHE HAS ALREADY PASSED THE GREAT ZELKOVA TREE! MEJIRO PALMER IS BARELY HOLDING ON TO SECOND PLACE! THE FORMATION OF THE MAIN PACK HASN'T SHIFTED AN INCH, BUT SURELY THEY DON'T PLAN ON LETTING TWIN TURBO WALTZ AWAY WITH THIS?! WE ARE UNDER 800 METERS FROM THE FINISH LINE!"
The live commentator roared.
Though the stadium speakers couldn't pierce the howling wind in the runners' ears, the sheer, undeniable reality of Turbo's massive lead was glaringly obvious to everyone in the main pack.
I cannot let her maintain this gap for another second!
McQueen concluded. Making her decision, she decisively drifted one step to the outside, securing a clear acceleration path for herself while simultaneously boxing in Nice Nature.
Inadvertently, her outward shift opened up just enough space on the inner rail.
Perfect!
Seizing the golden opportunity McQueen had unwittingly handed her, Dober violently surged forward.
Skipping the usual, gradual acceleration phase, she forced her stride into overdrive, instantly filling the gap before snapping her rhythm back into a coiled, preparatory state for the impending final sprint.
Far ahead, Twin Turbo continued to blaze the trail. While every opponent behind her was mathematically certain she was about to suffer a catastrophic burnout, the truth was, even after scorching 1200 meters of turf, Turbo didn't feel an ounce of fatigue.
I knew it! Turbo is in peak, ultimate condition today!
Feeling absolutely invincible, Turbo maintained her terrifying, red-lined cruising speed, hurtling recklessly toward the final straight.
I won't let a single person catch Turbo! Not Necha, not Dictus, nobody!
On the grandest Grade 1 stage of her life, Turbo was determined to burn her name into the stars.
Huh? Do I seriously need to start accelerating here?
Mejiro Palmer blinked, noticing the distant Twin Turbo actually seeming to quicken her pace.
I managed to match her tempo for the first 1000 meters, but I absolutely have to throttle down and recover stamina right here. How on earth is she still accelerating?! Has she completely abandoned the concept of surviving the final straight?!
Palmer asked herself a simple question: if she were in Turbo's shoes right now, she would be desperately slamming the brakes to hoard stamina. Looking at the monsters lurking behind her—McQueen and Dober—Palmer knew that if a vanguard runner didn't stockpile energy before the Tokyo final straight, they would be slaughtered.
This brutal calculus was exactly why Palmer had intentionally choked the pace of the main pack. It was the only scenario where she felt she had a ghost of a chance to withstand the terrifying closing charges of her two elite peers.
McQueen, having mirrored Palmer's pacing, understood her cousin's survival strategy perfectly. But McQueen had been biding her time, waiting for this exact, critical juncture.
I will initiate my long spurt the absolute second we turn into the final straight!
However, just as McQueen carved out her space and began to coil her muscles for her signature, grinding acceleration, Mejiro Dober shockingly surged forward on her left, violently inserting herself into the inner lane gap.
Dober?! You're initiating your sprint here?! We still have over 700 meters left!
McQueen shot a sideways glance at her junior, her eyes wide with profound disbelief.
Dober felt McQueen's gaze, but her expression remained completely deadpan, her eyes locked dead ahead in a terrifying, predatory trance.
At that exact moment, the undefeated Triple Tiara winner gathered every ounce of her hyper-focused concentration, forging it into a metaphysical, razor-sharp blade. With a single, violent mental strike, she shattered the invisible wall blocking her consciousness.
"Dober-senpai?!"
Up in the VIP suite, Admire Vega suddenly gasped, violently breaking her usual stoic character.
In that split second, a sharp, piercing phantom pain had lanced through Vega's mind. The source of the terrifying, oppressive sensation was pointing directly at Mejiro Dober down on the turf.
"What's wrong?"
Shuta An instantly turned, his eyes filled with concern.
"N-Nothing." Admire Vega stammered, rubbing her temples and exhaling a shaky breath. "It's nothing."
The bizarre, suffocating pressure had vanished as quickly as it arrived, leaving no trace behind.
Shuta An turned his gaze back to the jumbo-tron, finally registering the terrifying, shifting aura surrounding his runner.
Ah. She just triggered her Zone.
the young man realized.
Wait—did Ayabe-chan actually physically sense the atmospheric pressure from Dober's Zone trigger? Shuta An's mind raced. Does that mean her innate talent for it is already awakening?
On second thought, he wasn't entirely surprised.
Admire Vega was destined to wage a legendary war against the 'Overlord' T.M. Opera O in the future. If Vega couldn't even brush against the boundaries of the Zone—well, surviving that era would be impossible for her.
Back at the Team Sadalsuud clubroom, Teio leaned forward, her eyes narrowing sharply.
"Dober-senpai is triggering her Zone here?"
"Isn't that recklessly early?"
Rice Shower asked, genuine alarm in her voice. Based on Rice's own agonizing experiences, the Zone was a trump card meant to be detonated in the absolute final, desperate moments of a straightaway duel. Dober was still over 600 meters from the finish line. Burning her Zone this early was a guaranteed recipe for a catastrophic stamina implosion in the final furlong.
"It is incredibly early. But if she wants to permanently neutralize McQueen's blocking threat, it's her only viable move."
Teio replied, her voice dropping to a serious, analytical hum.
Teio leaned back in her chair, meeting Rice's confused gaze.
"McQueen might have looked completely helpless when I left her at the Takarazuka Kinen, but make no mistake—I could feel her brushing against the edges of her own Zone. If McQueen triggers hers first in a slow-paced tactical race like this, Dober-senpai will be completely at her mercy."
"A slow-paced race—" Rice Shower murmured, thinking of the runaway phantom. "Teio-senpai, do you think Twin Turbo is going to hit the wall early?"
"She won't show the true, catastrophic deceleration until she officially hits the final straight."
Teio deduced coldly, perfectly mirroring Rice's own grim assessment.
—
Down on the track, Twin Turbo continued to pump her legs with heroic, blinding ferocity. But some physical realities simply cannot be overcome by sheer willpower.
Despite her absolute refusal to yield, as she swept through the final curve with just over 500 meters left to the finish line, Turbo's velocity began to violently, visibly hemorrhage.
"Turbo..." Trainer Minamisaka gripped the railing, his face pale with dread. "If your legs are gone, you can just ease up..."
"TURBO WILL HOLD ON UNTIL THE VERY END!"
Machikane Tannhauser suddenly screamed from the stands, tears pricking her eyes.
"Even if her legs gave out, Turbo will run to the finish line! Necha and Dictus will carry her sprint!"
Minamisaka closed his eyes, knowing Tannhauser's desperate screams were nothing more than tragic optimism.
Twin Turbo was rapidly bleeding speed. The miraculous, twenty-length lead she had sacrificed her body to build over 1500 meters was now being violently devoured by the monsters lurking behind her.
Having successfully detonated her Zone, Mejiro Dober didn't immediately launch into a reckless, all-out sprint.
Displaying terrifying restraint, she stabilized her newly secured inner position, waiting until she hit the absolute apex of the final bend before finally uncoiling her stride.
But Mejiro McQueen, running parallel on the outside, refused to simply roll over.
Feeling the suffocating, oppressive gravity emanating from Dober, McQueen immediately flattened her posture, preparing her own devastating counter-acceleration.
I will end this right here!
Having completed all her tactical positioning, McQueen poured every ounce of her soul into the singular, desperate act of running.
A few dozen meters later, just as Dober began to inch past her flank, McQueen finally, agonizingly brushed against the invisible, metaphysical wall blocking her own consciousness.
Break!
With a silent, desperate scream, McQueen shattered the barrier.
In the next fraction of a second, McQueen stepped into a pristine, utterly silent dimension.
The suffocating presence of Mejiro Dober to her left vanished. The fading figure of Mejiro Palmer ahead of her dissolved. Even the distant, struggling silhouette of Twin Turbo was erased from existence.
In this vast, empty world, there was only Mejiro McQueen.
Is this... is this the scenery Teio stepped into during the Takarazuka Kinen?
McQueen thought, a fleeting moment of profound shock rippling through her consciousness. She had never experienced this terrifying, absolute isolation in a formal race before.
So... this is how far Teio and I truly were.
But McQueen instantly ruthlessly severed the lingering thread of despair.
And that is exactly why I absolutely must win this Tenno Sho! I will walk into the Japan Cup as a victor, and I will face Tokai Teio as an equal!