Every single gaze.
They were all fixed on Garden Gale.
After all…
Her Runaway tactic was already a spectacle and now she'd even started widening the gap. Narita Top Road, who was leading the pack behind, bit her lip gently as she stared at Garden Gale's receding silhouette, clearly hesitating whether or not to give chase.
In the end…
She decided against it.
…It was too soon.
She had to conserve stamina as much as possible.
Though 2,000 meters wasn't considered long distance, today's conditions were truly atrocious, borderline unacceptable. Just finishing the race would be impressive enough.
Admire Vega also refrained from chasing.
The ones who started off sprinting wildly at the very beginning… Their decision was beyond reckless.
But…
Not everyone thought that way.
"Hey, hey! How can we let her hog the spotlight all alone?!"
T.M. Opera O didn't give a damn—rules, strategy, common sense—none of that mattered. With a wildly twisted grin, she declared arrogantly, "I'm supposed to be the star of this damn show!"
Her words echoed through the storm.
And then, little by little, steadily, she adjusted her form.
Until she found her opening and surged ahead—
T.M. Opera O was never blocked, never trapped. Even impossible encirclements were things she could rip through effortlessly!
And just like that…
She stormed into second place, her gaze locked onto Garden Gale's back. Thunder roared; shoes drove deep into the mud. The fierce drumming of her feet blended with the relentless storm, creating a breathtaking, violent symphony.
Emerging from the torrential rain…
T.M. OPERA O.
Garden Gale knew someone had targeted her.
But she never looked back. Her expression was one of absolute concentration, eyes glued solely to the track ahead, devoid of distractions.
Just keep moving forward… Just keep running. Nothing else matters. The only thing that matters is increasing your speed, faster and faster, so those behind can't catch you—can't seize you!
"This is madness..."
Admire Vega, her face pale and her rain-soaked bangs plastered tightly against her forehead, muttered with bitter frustration. She looked like glass on the verge of cracking.
It was bad enough dealing with one lunatic…
Now there were two. And these two maniacs were dancing a wild tango in the storm, utterly wrecking the race's rhythm and forcing Admire Vega, who'd planned on carefully conserving stamina, to seriously consider accelerating.
Once that thought appeared…
…It was nearly impossible to regain her earlier composure.
Narita Top Road had no such hesitations; she immediately accelerated!
Though her tactics no longer involved directly dueling Garden Gale, she maintained a carefully calculated distance—one she felt certain she could close later. It was still somewhat conservative, wary of Garden Gale's explosive sprint, but Narita Top Road hadn't anticipated just how aggressively Garden Gale would run… nor that T.M. Opera O would join the fray.
There was no choice but to follow through with the original plan.
...
The pace of the Satsuki Sho was always brutal.
But now, the intensity of the entire field skyrocketed—even in such heavy rain, they raced as though the skies were clear and the track firm!
The audience roared in exhilaration!
They had no idea why the race had taken this chaotic turn, but the electrifying sight of the accelerating pack was enough to command their full attention. All eyes were locked onto the dramatic spectacle unfolding in the downpour, captivated by the black silhouette leading the charge!
Who could have imagined…
That the runner ranked twelfth-favorite would throw the entire race into such magnificent chaos?
...
Breathe. Just breathe.
Garden Gale was reborn in this Satsuki Sho.
Today, the world would learn the name "Black Flash". But for now, she simply ran, guiding the pace, dictating everything—even the movements of the pack behind. Garden Gale could clearly sense that her pursuers had begun accelerating. Refusing to yield, she dug deep and tapped directly into the strength she'd reserved for the final sprint.
Faster.
Even faster~!
"Whoa, hold on!"
Air Shakur stood up abruptly, astonishment and confusion painted vividly across her face. A genius with numbers, she was naturally sensitive to every subtle detail. Her words emerged thick with disbelief:
"Is she seriously accelerating even more? Has she completely lost her mind?!"
Had no one explained to Garden Gale that caution was crucial in conditions this poor?
Because it was insanely dangerous.
Even the slightest misstep in this weather could cost a runner their entire career.
Have you ever sprinted across soaked mud? It wasn't quicksand, yet it possessed an equally treacherous nature. Each step wasn't stable or solid—it was pure, soft earth, the kind that nurtures flowers. Each footfall sank, demanded double the strength to pull out, and then came the slippery aftermath. Lose your balance, fall to the mud, and that was truly catastrophic.
Imagine it. Sprinting at full speed, only to slip and crash violently onto the muddy ground—it would be brutal, unforgiving.
This wasn't a hyperbole.
Because your shoes would be caked in slick, waterlogged mud.
Falls, slips, exhaustion—these weren't just possibilities. They were certainties.
So…
What was Garden Gale thinking?
Air Shakur's heart tightened painfully, torn between admiration for this incredible Runaway and deep anxiety over the looming danger.
As for her signature move—taking curves without slowing down?
Forget it.
Everyone knew that was Garden Gale's lethal weapon—unstoppable under normal circumstances, even when everyone knew it was coming. But that move required good weather. Attempting it now, in this deluge, was suicidal—losing control meant falling, hard, and forfeiting any chance at victory.
Never in her wildest dreams did Air Shakur think someone would actually attempt it just two minutes later.
...
The race was only halfway through.
Right now—Garden Gale led, T.M. Opera O trailed somewhere between the lead and the chasing pack—not close enough to threaten Garden Gale directly, yet not lost in the cluster either. Garden Gale even wondered briefly if T.M. Opera O was all bark and no bite.
Behind them was the main pack.
Narita Top Road still set the pace, intensifying the rhythm. The biggest worry was Admire Vega—the top favorite had fallen shockingly far behind.
The entire field had stretched to an extreme.
But…
There was still time, wasn't there?
Only 500 meters had passed; three-quarters of the race remained. Who knew what twists awaited? For now, the symphony in the rain played on.
And there was someone fixated on Garden Gale's silhouette.
A crisis would erupt after the next corner.
---
T/N: oughhh