Watching Taiki Shuttle bear down, Air Groove's frown loosened slightly.
"It seems someone finally moved to address the all-out escape."
Her stance wasn't bias against any Uma Musume. As student council vice president, she always hoped to see sensational new talent.
But Hushan Feihong was different.
That woman's methods had caused no end of trouble at the Academy—extreme, unscrupulous. Most of all, her unscientific regimen—four hill sprints a day—had driven many trainees to request transfers away from her.
Air Groove knew Feihong didn't mean to break her charges. Some—like Miho Bourbon and Stardust Illusion—fit her, but her unbridled style clashed with Air Groove's serious, responsible soul.
She could not imagine what might happen if Team Draco represented Japan in exchange with France.
"Taiki Shuttle is exactly what experience looks like. She knows an all-out escape's worst fear is its own failure—so she'd rather burn vast stamina to glue herself to them, return pressure, and force the rookies to make bad choices."
Rudolf nodded.
"The remaining four hardly matter now. The winner will come from Bourbon, Stardust Illusion, and Taiki Shuttle… No, Bourbon will not last—so it hinges on her."
"Stardust Illusion. What will she choose?"
"There's no hope," Air Groove said. "They're entering the last three waves—Taiki Shuttle's specialty.
"Her 'Victory Shot' is terrifying—comparable to Maruzensky in her pomp. Top-class finishing kick."
In Uma races, "last-three" times measure finishing kicks. Around 34 seconds flat is already strong—17.64 m/s average.
Stardust Illusion clocked 38, even 40, in practice—"middling," Feihong said, with the caveat that the girl raced better than she trained.
Taiki Shuttle's best?
—33.0. Average, 34 low.
———————————————
"Stamina remaining: approximately 200 m, Stardust Illusion."
Running, Bourbon reported.
Meaning—after 200 m, she could no longer hold sprint pace.
Stardust Illusion's chest tightened. She knew Bourbon's stamina outstripped her own—yet they hadn't even finished 1400 m. The reason was that Bourbon had been plowing a path through the wind for her teammate to live in the slipstream.
The only reason for that was… total trust. Bourbon had handed her the hope of victory!
"I understand—leave the rest to me. I will take it!"
Stardust Illusion answered without a tremor.
She adjusted her form, folding everything she'd learned in the week into this race.
Her arms found a steadier rhythm—still short of Bourbon's mechanical perfection, but far better than a week ago.
Most important, the others had intended to wait and kick late. Forced to chase by the all-out escape, they had burned more and achieved less…
They had enough of a cushion. If she simply held and added her own still-unspent stamina, she could consolidate the lead and take first.
But at that moment, a pressure rose behind—an oppressive will—closing.
Tht-tht-tht—
Footfalls sharpened, pounding like a fist on Stardust Illusion's heart. The runner drawing near called out, voice light, pitched just enough to carry:
"Howdy~ What're you two yappin' about? Let me in on it!"
Taiki Shuttle!
Impossible?!
Even running near top sprint all the way, they were being reeled in?!
Judging by the sound, Taiki Shuttle was still three or four lengths back—but that was dire.
If an all-out escape cannot shed pursuers early, a bitter end awaits.
She started to look back—then the pressure behind condensed, locking with ice on her spine.
A chill knifed through the spot that pressure fixed on, as if the pursuer was no Uma Musume at all, but a hunter with a revolver aimed at her heart.
"Smashin' folks' rhythm with a double all-out—cute plan. But on me? No dice."
Taiki Shuttle's breath rasped, but less than Bourbon's—who was wobbling, close to collapse.
Taiki Shuttle's gait differed from either Bourbon or Stardust Illusion. This wasn't a hill, but she ran like an "alpinist"—touching down only with the front of her iron-shod hooves.
Tall for an Uma Musume, her stride wasn't especially long; it was the frequency that spiked—pure short-distance explosion. Such form demanded monstrous glute and thigh power. Stardust Illusion had tried it this week—she couldn't yet sustain it.
Taiki Shuttle, the mile queen—those taut thighs said everything. She could.
She had been the first of the five behind to read their "heartbreak" all-out and know how to answer. She'd seen this more than once.
All-out escapes wreck others' rhythms—but those who do it fret too:
Will I blow up? Can I hold to the end? Will a finisher run me down?
The more you harry an escaper, the more she unravels. That is how you seize initiative back.
So—sound the counterattack now.
Shuttle pressed her lips tight. To glue herself here, she had burned more than anyone, even Brian and McQueen. Her blood and muscles screamed; bones creaked. Her state was near its limit.
But she had done it.
Face still easy—she must not let those ahead see strain—she even had air to crack a joke.
She had pierced the tactic, and now returned the pressure with interest.
Seeing the panic in Stardust Illusion's glance, she dropped her chin and drove.
Like a charging Texas longhorn, she thundered at the pair ahead.
Now… let the bullet called Taiki Shuttle—
—drill straight through you!
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