(As expected of someone who can run on the same team as Stardust Illusion.)
Zhuofu watched as the red-brown runner ahead—Miho Bourbon—tilted her body to obstruct, neatly cutting off most of Zhuofu's path.
Situational awareness.
She knew it was a major discipline in racing, though Zhuofu, who'd never formally enrolled, didn't know the field well.
At best, she'd heard bits and pieces from friends like Caizhigao and other team "sisters."
Even so, she could see it: Bourbon was using awareness to block most of the track Zhuofu wanted.
They were within two lengths.
More importantly, at their relative speeds, if Zhuofu didn't slow, she'd run up Bourbon's back in one second.
What to do?
Zhuofu didn't "think" about it.
In awareness, she couldn't match head-type runners like Caizhigao or Bourbon.
But she wasn't helpless.
Even in the French academy, when she trained with the full squad, there was no shortage of runners using this tactic to impede Zhuofu's lane.
Let alone those days she couldn't use the track and had to run the streets of Paris.
In that environment, never mind one person blocking—try streams of pedestrians and chaos at every step.
So—how did she handle it?
The answer was simple.
Eyeing Bourbon ahead, Zhuofu narrowed her eyes.
(Just about time… to start.)
She drew a deep breath—then held it.
Without the slightest intention of lifting, the pale-pink runner kept her top speed and arrowed straight at Bourbon's back!
——————————
"Is she doing it again?!"
In the stands, the man beside Dance City locked on, eyes glued to Zhuofu charging up behind Miho Bourbon.
He'd missed the earlier "through-three-in-one" because he hadn't expected it at all.
But he knew it wasn't literal phasing—there had to be a special running technique.
Now, seeing Zhuofu once more barrel straight at Bourbon's obstruction, he knew she was about to use it again—
"What is it—let me see it clearly this time!!!"
For no reason at all, the man with all the "expert" knowledge caught fire—determined to crack this godlike pass.
Beside him, Dance City and Opera O had already made up after praying together for Stardust Illusion.
Now they were hand-in-hand, eyes tense on the course.
"She's coming!!! Zhuofu like an arrow from the string—she's at Bourbon's back—this is—mano-a-mano!"
All three sets of eyes—two small, one big—were riveted on the pair—
After the first second…
Zhuofu, now close enough to touch, vanished from Bourbon's back.
After the second second…
That pink figure had already slipped past Miho Bourbon—to the back of Stardust Illusion!
"She's through! In this duel, Zhuofu has broken Miho Bourbon's obstruction—and only Stardust Illusion remains ahead!"
"Impossible…" the man murmured, unable to credit what he'd seen.
"At that speed, how could she… still hug the blind spot at Bourbon's flank and slip around…"
"That motion is too outrageous!"
"This is bad, this is bad, this is bad!"
Sweat beaded in Dance City's palm clasping Opera O's.
She repeated herself over and over, eyes nearly shut—afraid of seeing her idol Stardust Illusion overtaken the same way.
"No way! Stardust Illusion will manage—she's going to be the strongest runner in Japan!"
Opera O was just as taut, but having no idea what made the technique insane, she had no doubts to voice.
To her, no matter the pinch, Stardust Illusion would use will to overcome—that's the runner she adored!
Though she knew she was just a little girl talking, the garrulous man beside them had his head full of what he'd seen and reflexively retorted:
"You're too naive…"
"Before Stardust Illusion, were there no strongest runners in Japan?"
"Symboli Rudolf, Symboli Sirius, El Condor Pasa, the Golden Master… each represented the peak of Japan's scene—but none ever won the Arc."
"Even Taiki Shuttle, the 'mile king,' only ruled overseas mile races—no true laurels in the flagship middle-long distances…"
He'd followed the sport for years, enough to know the lore—and even worked within it.
But precisely because of that, he saw… the gap between these runners.
"Those who've won the Arc and proven it—none come from Japan's scene. Even that one born in Japan, 'Sea Metropolis,' only won because she'd been taken to Hong Kong for training as a child."
"And even then, she got the only Arc G1 for that 'line'—it doesn't prove bloodline strength at all."
He looked at the two little girls; they stared blankly, not quite grasping him.
He wore a bleak look; he didn't want to assert that inference, and he didn't want to lecture two kids still starry-eyed about racing.
But reality, time after time, had hammered him.
If he didn't puncture their fantasy here, then when the race ended and they saw Stardust Illusion couldn't match Zhuofu and Wangzu—French runners like that—they might lose their dreams entirely.
Helping them set realistic goals—that mattered too…
"Racehorses are born unequal."
"Even if Miho Bourbon's effort gets her this far, she still can't beat Stardust Illusion, can she?"
"And the French runners are a wall no Japanese runner can scale—that's the true Maginot Line!"
"That weightless, seemingly physics-breaking run—that effortless ease."
"Against such French genius, there is no Japanese answer…"
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