"Man, I'm telling you—when Oguri finally made her way back to Kasamatsu, the whole place turned into a complete madhouse."
"I was just glad to see everyone looking so well," Oguri added softly. "Getting to talk with them again… it was a good time."
Listening to Trainer Kitahara recount the story of Oguri's return to the Kasamatsu Training Center—entering the qualifiers just to earn her spot in the Finals—was nothing short of captivating. Her homecoming alone would have been enough to trigger a festival, but the fact that she had returned specifically to represent Kasamatsu as their champion sent the locals into a frenzy of pride.
"We actually had to push the qualifiers back a day because the 'Welcome Home, Oguri' party ran so long," Kitahara laughed.
"Oh, that's right," another voice chimed in. "I remember getting a notification that the Kasamatsu qualifiers were delayed… I didn't think much of it since it was the inaugural year, but still."
It hadn't just been a party; the entire Training Center had been swept up in the celebration. Oguri had clearly cherished every second of it. However, the stories weren't all sentimental—Kitahara couldn't help but poke fun at how, surrounded by the familiar faces of home, Oguri's appetite had spiraled out of control. She had polished off every scrap of food prepared for the event before demanding seconds, and at one point, she had to be physically dragged away from trying to sleep in an old storage shed. For Oguri, it was the purest form of bliss.
"So," Rampage asked, leaning in, "how did she look in the qualifiers?"
Rampage expected to hear a story of a one-sided slaughter—surely the current Oguri would have vanished into the distance the moment the gates opened. But that assumption was quickly shattered. It hadn't been a blowout; it had been a desperate, tooth-and-nail struggle to the very end.
"It caught me off guard too," Kitahara admitted, his expression turning serious. "To see them pressuring Oguri—the same Oguri who runs like that in the Dream Trophy League—it was unreal. What was that phrase? 'The spirit can transcend the flesh'?"
Kitahara began to explain, echoing the philosophy of Trainer Kuronuma. The girls of Kasamatsu had spent every waking moment training with Oguri as either their idol or their ultimate rival. They hadn't just been running a race; they had poured their entire souls into their training just to be worthy of standing on the same dirt as her when she returned. The result was a race so fierce that Oguri had to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat by the narrowest of margins.
"I… I received strength and courage from everyone at Kasamatsu," Oguri said, her voice dropping an octave. "And I made them a promise. Rampage—I'm going to hit you with everything I have."
The girl standing there was no longer the gluttonous Oguri Cap the world knew. She was the Grey Monster from the sticks. With eyes like flint and an aura of chilling dignity, she looked every bit the legend who had defined an era. Rampage felt a sharp, involuntary smile tug at their lips—and in that instant, Kitahara felt a cold shiver race down his spine. The man he had just begun to see as a friendly, joking colleague had vanished.
The atmosphere around Rampage shifted, turning heavy and predatory.
"I haven't seen that face before, Monster," Rampage sneered, their voice dripping with a dangerous edge. "Unfortunately for you, you're looking at a Tyrant. I'm going to take that 'everything' of yours and trample it into the dirt with pure, unadulterated violence. I'll show you what lies beyond that World Record you lost to—I'll show you the far side of speed."
"I'd expect nothing less," Oguri replied.
So this is the world stage, Kitahara thought, paralyzed by the sheer pressure radiating from their handshake.
This was the girl who had conquered the globe. The one who had watched Horlicks break the world record against Oguri, only to shatter that same record herself while still in the Classic class. She had surpassed it again at the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, then set back-to-back world records at the BC Classic and the Arima Kinen. She was the "World Recorder." The shock the racing world felt when she suddenly retired to become a trainer was still fresh. Some whispered that she had lost her edge, but looking at her now, Kitahara knew those rumors were nothing but lies.
"I won't lose," Oguri declared. "Not to Tama, not to Inari, not to Creek… and certainly not to you."
"I've never tasted defeat in my life," Rampage countered. "If you're the one to give it to me, I suppose there'd be some value in that. Not that I have any intention of letting it happen."
With those final words, the tension broke as they moved apart. Almost instantly, Oguri drifted back toward the food, returning to her usual self so quickly that Kitahara felt like he was catching a cold from the emotional whiplash. But he knew he would never forget that transformation. That was the true Oguri Cap—the perfect harmony of body, technique, and soul.
As he stood there, wondering if he'd ever forget the sheer presence Rampage had exuded, a heavy hand slapped his back.
"Well? How does the girl look to you?"
"Ro—Master Roppei!"
"It's just Roppei. That girl over there is the fastest in the world—a girl who traveled the globe and won every war she fought. She hasn't dulled one bit. If anything, her technique is still evolving."
"...You've got to be kidding me," Kitahara muttered, his voice trembling.
It was staggering enough that someone with room to grow would retire to teach, but the idea that there was a level of speed even beyond what she had already shown was terrifying.
"She claims her peak was her retirement race," Roppei added. "Though, admittedly, that was something else entirely… Wait, where's Berno?"
"Over there," Kitahara said, gesturing behind him.
Berno Light, his former student who had followed Oguri to the Central heartlands to support her, was currently collapsed on the floor, her legs having completely given out.
"Hey! You okay?!"
"I-I'm sorry…" Berno stammered, her face pale. "The pressure… it was so intense, my knees just… buckled."
"I feel you," Kitahara sighed. "It makes sense why the head of the Meijiro family and the Symboli consultant act as her guarantors…"
This was set to be the most terrifying race in history. The Finals' mid-distance turf track was 2400 meters—the same as the Derby. It was, for all intents and purposes, Rampage's backyard. It was the distance where she had carved her world records into the earth. Was there anyone truly capable of challenging her there?
And yet, Oguri was stepping up. Not just her, but a field of elites, all possessing unnatural strength.
"Come on, Berno, pull it together," Kitahara encouraged. "We're the ones who have to support Oguri. We have to make sure she's in peak condition to give them the race of their lives."
"Y-you're right! Yes! I'm standing up!"
"I've been in that girl's debt far too long," Roppei grumbled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oguri, as a way of saying thanks… why don't you gift her her very first defeat?"
"Yes. I will."
The Oguri camp was now a forge, burning with the singular goal of toppling Rampage. To Oguri, this was a challenge to a mentor, a senior, and a friend. Perhaps it was the thrill of the upcoming battle, but her body began to vibrate with a low, resonant thrum. It sounded like a beast's growl, echoing like a restless soul from the depths of hell, stoking the fires of her resolve—
"...Hey, Oguri? You're literally in the middle of chewing. Why is your stomach growling that loud? That's not even physically possible."
"Well, you see…"
"It's a regular occurrence," Roppei sighed.
"Seconds, please," Oguri requested.
"Right away, Miss!"
In the hallway, Rampage leaned against a wall, staring at her clenched fist. She opened it, then closed it again. Her hand was shaking uncontrollably. The anticipation was eating her alive. She felt like her body might fly apart if the race didn't start this very second.
"Heh… heh-heh… hahahaha…"
She covered her face with her hand, laughing quietly. No matter how much she tried to suppress it, no matter where she went, she was a racing girl to her core. It was the same for Oguri and Tamamo Cross. The instinct of a Horse Girl—the primal urge to run against a powerful foe—was throbbing in her veins.
I have to calm down… I have to…
She dug her nails into her skin, desperately forcing the excitement back down. Quietly, calmly… she forced her mask back into place. After several long breaths, she finally regained control. But just as she thought she was back to normal, a "signal" beamed directly into her head.
『Little Lamb, you mustn't get so excited so suddenly. I told you before, your "Umashoul" is growing too large. We went to all that trouble to tune you; don't go ruining the balance yourself. Heh heh… perhaps I should pay you another visit. I'll bring a different kind of meal this time—ah, wait! Turk, it's a joke! Don't get mad! Sorry, Little Lamb, gotta go!』
"...God, they're so free-spirited," Rampage muttered.
"Rampage-san! I'm finished with my song!" a cheerful voice called out. It was her trainee. "Man, I didn't expect an encore! By the way, did something happen? While I was singing, I felt like you were getting really excited. Was it my dancing?! Did my performance finally move you?!"
"Right, time to get back to emceeing," Rampage said, completely ignoring her.
"Hwaa—?! ☆"
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