"YES—THIS IS AMAZING!!!"
The instant the wheelchair's motors kicked in, 永恒流星 stopped caring whether it was Christmas, egg-day, or the end of the world. The head-on gale tore every stray thought out of her skull and left behind only one word:
Satisfying.
Both hands clamped around the twin control sticks. She shoved them forward at the same time.
The motors answered with a feral, metallic howl.
The widened tires skittered—actually lost traction for a split second—then launched as if a slingshot had been pulled to its limit and released. A second-stage surge stacked on top of the first, and the whole chassis shot down the track.
The G-force slammed her small body hard into the backrest.
Meteor didn't feel fear.
She felt greed.
In that pure, electrified rush, "what if I fall" stopped existing, and "what if I get scolded" became a joke. Injury wasn't even on her mental menu anymore.
All she wanted was one thing:
A perfect drift.
Her dynamic vision—ridiculously sharp—measured her distance to 黄金船 in a heartbeat. Meteor yanked the right stick back, then snapped it forward again. The chassis yawed sideways; the front wheels automatically counter-steered under the system's correction logic to keep the center of mass stable.
At the braking point, she pressed the brake button on one side.
The wheelchair slid, clean and elegant—rubber whispering across the track—then stopped dead in front of Gold Ship, tire marks curling behind like calligraphy.
And with that, we could finally crawl out of the thirteen-chapter-long flashback.
"HEY! YOU TWO!!"
A shriek—like a rubber chicken being stepped on—cut across the air.
Both girls turned toward the training facilities.
A figure came wobbling over, sprinting with the desperation of a man trying to outrun his own unemployment. His shoulders rocked left and right, breath coming in broken chunks. He didn't even have enough oxygen for proper swearing.
It was 西崎龙.
After finishing paperwork that morning, he'd seen a message from Rudolf. He didn't even need to read the whole thing—just seeing the words "Gold Ship" was enough to trigger an apocalyptic premonition, especially since Gold Ship had asked for half a day off yesterday.
He'd dropped everything. Called Gold Ship. Learned she was on the track.
Then he'd launched out of the office like his life depended on it—because, realistically, it did.
By the time he reached the field, he'd witnessed Meteor's wheelchair drift sideways at speeds that belonged to illegal street racing, not a school track.
His soul almost left his body.
If she got hurt again, given how obsessed 鲁道夫象征 had been lately… Gold Ship might live or die—he didn't know.
But he was certain he would be finished.
Maybe they wouldn't literally "send him to warm Tokyo Bay," but his trainer license would absolutely wave him goodbye.
"This is insanely dangerous! What if you fall and get flung out!?"
His eyes scanned Meteor fast—head, shoulders, arms, legs—confirming no obvious injuries. Only then did he exhale.
Then his glare snapped back to Gold Ship, sharp enough to cut steel.
He couldn't comprehend how she'd built this for a horse girl who seemed to visit the infirmary as a hobby.
"It was my request," Meteor cut in quickly, seeing the two of them about to detonate. "It's not her fault."
Then, with a grin that could only be described as criminal, she rotated the chair in place twice—showing off the angular body, the aggressive lines, the wickedly wide stance.
"And come on, Nishizaki—don't tell me you've never dreamed of owning something like this."
Nishizaki wanted to say, No. Absolutely not. Too dangerous.
But the words died in his throat.
Because the thing was… cool.
Not "cool" like a new pair of sneakers.
Cool like romance, like a childhood dream with an engine, like a machine built to defy common sense.
Who could reject a wheelchair that was fast, could drift, and looked like a futuristic throne?
Meteor saw his hesitation and pressed the advantage like a seasoned negotiator.
"So," she said sweetly, "want to experience it yourself?"
"What!?" Nishizaki's voice jumped an octave. He licked dry lips unconsciously.
That was literally his childhood fantasy.
Gold Ship, standing behind Nishizaki, subtly shook her head at Meteor—warning her.
Meteor ignored it.
"The terms are simple," Meteor said, deadpan. "Two thousand."
"…Two thousand what?" Nishizaki blinked, then realized. He immediately tried bargaining. "Could you make it a little cheaper? You know I've got a whole stable to feed."
Meteor pretended to think, lowering her gaze like a saint considering charity.
Then she raised her head, expression blank, and increased the price without blinking.
"Three thousand."
"HEY! Why does it go up?!"
"Four thousand."
Nishizaki's soul visibly cracked.
Gold Ship finally lost it and clutched her stomach, laughing.
"I'll pay!" Nishizaki shut his eyes tight, like accepting his fate. "I'll pay—!"
Meteor burst out laughing.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"
Nishizaki stared, devastated.
Meteor's smile widened—she learned something important today: when her own face did that kind of "painful expression," it sucked.
But when she made other people do it?
Incredible.
"Eh…?" Nishizaki's hope flickered.
"I'm not letting you drive it," Meteor said firmly. "With your dynamic vision? In a school? Absolutely not."
"…Yeah," Nishizaki admitted, his excitement draining into reason. He wasn't delusional. If someone suddenly stepped out and he didn't react in time…
He'd carry that guilt forever.
"But don't be sad," Meteor added, tone bright again. "You can't drive—but you can still feel the speed."
"…?"
Nishizaki stared at the wheelchair.
It had one seat.
His brain immediately produced the worst possible image: sitting in Meteor's lap.
His skin crawled.
Meteor's eyes followed his gaze. Then she looked at his face and understood instantly.
"Get lost," she snapped. "What the hell are you imagining?"
She resisted the urge to kick him, instead pressing buttons on both control sticks.
With clean mechanical clicks, two hidden side handles popped out from the backrest—left and right—followed by fold-out standing platforms beneath them.
(Think of a concealed support grip system—fully integrated into the chair frame, designed for two riders to stand and hold on.)
"Get on."
Meteor curled her index finger twice at him.
Gold Ship was already stepping onto the right platform, gripping the handle like she'd been born there.
Nishizaki's eyes shimmered.
"Eternal Meteor…"
"If you drip snot on my wheelchair," Meteor said flatly, "you'll never touch it again."
"You're so cruel…" Nishizaki sniffed, then wiped his sleeve fast and climbed onto the left platform, grabbing the handle with both hands. His expression transformed into pure, childish anticipation.
Meteor glanced over her shoulder at them.
"Passengers," she announced in a faux-professional tone, "please hold on. This flight does not include insurance."
She waited until both grips were firm.
Then she took the controls.
"Ready—let's go!!!"
She pushed the sticks forward only halfway.
Meteor was reckless, but she wasn't stupid. With extra riders, she couldn't go anywhere near the limit. No drifting, no sudden yaw—Gold Ship could probably hold on through a hurricane, but Nishizaki would get flung into orbit.
So she drove clean lines, smooth acceleration, controlled speed—fast enough to thrill, safe enough to not ruin three lives in one morning.
Even so, the horse girls doing morning practice still screamed as the tri-rider wheelchair streaked past.
Especially because behind the chair, a grown trainer clung on with a grin so wide it looked like his face might tear, laughing like he'd just regained his youth.
Naturally, more heads turned.
Naturally, the commotion grew.
And naturally—
It reached the student council office.
鲁道夫象征, mid-work, paused as the noise spilled through the window. She rose, puzzled, and stepped closer.
She looked down at the track.
And saw the white-and-red monstrosity tearing across the field with three riders attached.
Her blood pressure spiked so hard her vision blurred for a second.
She stared—silent, terrifyingly still—then slowly pulled out her phone and dialed.
Somewhere on the track, the wheelchair kept roaring forward.
And the moment that call connected—
The real danger was about to begin.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter116)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter144)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 118
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 111
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 80
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 112
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 80
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 74
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 48
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 50
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 47
Uma Musume: From Beginner 42
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