Long before the Japan Cup even kicked off, countless news outlets had already prepped two different drafts.
Whether Liberty Island or Equinox crossed the line first, they were ready to break the story the second the results were in.
But to everyone's utter shock, disaster struck on race day.
Right after Equinox bolted past the finish line, Liberty Island collapsed right there on the track.
With the eyes of the entire crowd at Kyoto Racecourse and international viewers watching the live stream, there was no hiding the truth.
The pre-written drafts were useless now. Instead, the reporters had to scramble to write a fresh piece about Liberty Island's sudden fall.
After a quick exchange with Sugar Lights from Liberty Island's team, the journalists and social media influencers rushed back to their desks to pull an emergency overtime shift.
The editors in traditional print media had it even rougher than the social media crowd. Since the physical newspapers had a strict 4:00 AM printing deadline, they had to polish off every word before the presses could roll.
The staff at the Tokyo Uma Musume Daily were no exception. They ground away until 8:00 AM the following morning before finally wrapping up.
But just as they were about to head home—their eyes heavy with dark circles, feeling lightheaded from the morning sun, and hearts racing with exhaustion—the Editor-in-Chief came bursting in.
None of them had ever seen their boss look so frantic so early in the morning, but they were too drained to care. Most just gave him a passing glance before collapsing back onto their desks to snag whatever sleep they could.
Then, as if he were intentionally trying to ruin their rest, the Editor-in-Chief began slamming his hand against the door, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"We've got a massive problem!"
The editors, already irritable from pulling an all-nighter, felt their tempers flare. One particularly prickly fellow threw a jacket over his head and yelled back with a snarl.
"Unless the world is ending, don't you dare wake me up!"
"Actually, even if the world is ending, let me finish my nap first!"
The shouter was the department's resident rebel, a man who looked down on the Chief despite his own top-tier writing skills, convinced the boss had only kissed enough boots to get the title.
In any other situation, the Chief would have ripped that jacket off his head and started a shouting match. But right now, he didn't have the luxury to care about petty defiance.
Seeing that no one was taking him seriously, he didn't even stop to catch his breath. He just roared out:
"Dream... Dream Weaver!She just announced she's coming out of retirement to race in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe!"
"What?!"
The editor who had just been yelling about the apocalypse suddenly bolted upright. His professional instincts kicked in instantly, his mind racing.
"Coming back now? When's the return ceremony? No, wait—she never actually had a retirement ceremony when she became a trainer, so technically she's still an active pro. She doesn't even need a formal ceremony."
"But entering the Arc... she's been away from the track for two years. Can she even get back into systematic training in time for next year's race?"
"And if she puts everything into training for the Arc, by the time she actually runs next year, she'll have been off the big stage for nearly three years!"
As he sat there stroking his chin, pondering behind his dark circles, the Chief finally caught his breath. He didn't even stop to wipe the sweat from his brow before shaking his head.
"No."
"The race Dream Weaver is entering... it's not next year's Arc."
The rebel editor's brow furrowed even deeper.
He muttered to himself, "Not next year? Is it the year after? Two years would give her plenty of time, but can her body handle it? And why announce it so far in advance—"
"It's not the year after, either!"
The Chief cut him off sharply. He looked around the office, realizing every single eye was now locked onto him. The tension was so thick you could hear a pin drop as they waited for him to finish. Finally, he yelled:
"It's this year! Dream Weaver is running in this year's Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe!"
"That's impossible! The Arc is in October, and this year's—"
Because of the all-nighter, the editor's brain was a bit sluggish. But just as he was about to recite the race schedule, a memory clicked into place.
Right. This year's Arc hadn't happened yet. Because it was a major anniversary year, the race had been pushed to the end of the year.
He had actually written a follow-up piece back when the French Uma Musume Association and the event organizers were bickering over the date change.
The editor smacked his own head hard, trying to jolt himself awake with the pain. He looked up at the Chief, eyes wide. "So... you mean in one month?"
"In one month!"
The Chief nodded without hesitation. They might not have gotten along on a personal level, but when a story of this magnitude broke, their professional synergy was seamless.
"When did the news break?"
"Just now, exactly 8:00 AM, on the official Central Tracen website and their social media accounts."
"Details?"
"Vague. It just says Dream Weaver is returning for this year's Arc. Based on the wording, it looks like it was written in a massive hurry. Central Tracen probably just found out themselves."
Hearing this, a spark of realization lit up the editor's exhausted eyes.
"Even Central Tracen doesn't have the full scoop?"
"Then this has to be a split-second decision by Dream Weaver herself, or at the very least, something she only told Tracen at the very last second."
His journalistic intuition was screaming. He made the call instantly.
"Everyone is at the same starting line right now. Even Tracen isn't much further ahead than we are. This is our best shot to get ahead and grab the primary intel!"
He grabbed a half-finished cup of coffee off his desk, downed it in one go, and threw on his jacket as he made a break for the door.
"Move! We're heading to Central Tracen for an interview right now. I'm too wired to focus—you drive!"
The Chief didn't waste a second, pulling his car keys from his pocket and sprinting toward the parking garage ahead of him.
Minutes after they vanished, the remaining editors stood frozen, unsure of what to do. The news was such a bombshell that their exhaustion had been completely replaced by adrenaline.
Sleep was out of the question. One by one, they sat back down and started scouring the internet for more leads.
The office was once again filled with the frantic clack-clack-clack of keyboards and mice. In the middle of the chaos, an editor looking at the screen couldn't help but whisper:
"Now that... is a piece of news that's going to shake the entire world."
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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.