"And that's the long and short of it," Rampage concluded.
"I see..." Uranus mused, her expression hardening. "It seems there are always those foolish enough to test their luck. Rest easy; I shall pull a few strings from my end as well."
"I'd appreciate that. It's good to have some heavy-duty backup."
"Leave it to me. Ensuring the happiness of our girls is, after all, my life's work."
The glasses met with a pleasant chime as they finished their respective drinks—carrot juice for the younger, and a deep red wine for the elder. Here, at the celebratory gala for the URA Finals and the Legend Race, Rampage had found an ally who transcended the term "Legend." Without a moment's hesitation, she had reported the names: the company that had systematically mistreated Richemont, and the high-profile investors backing them. Between the influence of the Mejiro and Symboli families, there was already nowhere for them to run, but Rampage decided a little extra "insurance" wouldn't hurt.
"Though, at this point, it feels like we're just stomping on a corpse," Rampage noted dryly.
"When you strike, you strike thoroughly," Uranus replied with a sharp smile. "If Ar-ko and Su-ko are the breach-and-clear squad, then I am the rearguard."
"The rearguard? You sound like you're planning to drop a fuel-air bomb on the remains."
"Not quite. Think of it more as... sustained naval bombardment."
"Total overkill. Got it."
"Desecrating the corpse is a fundamental rule of engagement, my dear."
To the onlookers, the exchange was nothing short of chilling. It was easy to imagine that one wrong move could land any of them in those crosshairs. Uranus seemed to project the silent warning that fear is the ultimate deterrent; as long as you remained an ally, you were safe—but to be an enemy was to invite ruin.
"You must be thorough," Uranus continued, "so that the lesson is etched into their very souls. They must understand the weight of incurring my wrath, and the absolute destruction that follows such folly."
"They underestimated what a single girl could do to change the world," Rampage added. "I'd say they're about to pay a very steep tuition fee for that mistake."
"The future belongs to the youth," Uranus said, her tone softening. "I'll make sure the world is tidy for you. I look forward to seeing what you do with it, Ran-chan."
"Thanks for the sentiment. I'll just keep doing things my way, U-chan."
The two shared a fist bump, followed by a high-five and a firm handshake before parting ways. Rampage, feeling a sudden thirst, grabbed a fresh juice and downed it. Despite her initial cold sweat, Uranus had proven to be a charming, wonderful woman. While "battle-hardened veteran" was the first impression that came to mind, Rampage ultimately filed her under "Good Person"—even if she suspected she was the only one in the room crazy enough to think so.
"Ah...! Never in my life have I thanked the heavens as I do today. For today—I have finally looked upon the star that is you!"
Rampage blinked. Wait, TM Opera O hasn't even enrolled yet, has she? The "Golden Generation" was still two years away. She turned toward the voice and saw a blonde Uma Musume with stars in her eyes, striking a pose reminiscent of Marvelous Sunday. She looked like a blend of Opera O and Fuji Kiseki, but with an extra layer of "theatrical." Before Rampage could react, the girl dropped to one knee, took Rampage's hand, and kissed it.
"Oh, my beloved Empress! My heart overflows with gratitude for this meeting. Tell me, will you accept my love? From the moment I laid eyes on you, my heart beat for you alone. You are a sinful woman... your radiance eclipses every affection I have ever known!"
Okay, add a dash of Prince Pilsudski to the mix, Rampage thought. And maybe a bit of Flora, God help us.
Looking closer, the girl's dress was a spectacle of blinding gold. From the fabric to the accessories, she was draped in wealth. She looked less like a racer and more like a "Hero King" from a certain legend.
"My love is no falsehood! It is the One True Love!" the girl proclaimed.
"I've always found that the words 'True Love' are the most suspicious thing a person can say," Rampage deadpanned. "And the fact that you mentioned 'every affection you've ever known' implies there's quite a list, which doesn't help your credibility."
"Then I shall prove it! I will conquer the Finals and return to your side to swear my vows once more. My name is Ouro Jipangu. Remember it well, my Liege. Until we meet again..."
With a final wink and another kiss to her hand, she swept away. Strangely, Rampage didn't feel the same irritation she felt with Flora. Perhaps it was because the girl was so direct, or perhaps because her performance was so detached from reality that it felt like watching a play. She reminded Rampage of Garnier, whom she had faced during her overseas campaign.
"Seriously, what is it with this place? It's nothing but eccentrics," Rampage muttered. "That battle-maniac Locksmith is starting to look normal by comparison."
"That sounds like a total loss of perspective. I'd appreciate it if you could return to your senses for my sake."
A new Uma Musume approached with a wry, pained smile. She had short grey hair and a distinctive deep-blue cover on her right ear.
"Forgive me. I was looking for an opening to speak with you, but when I heard you call that battle-maniac 'normal,' I couldn't help but interject."
"Compared to a girl who kisses you out of nowhere? Yeah, Locksmith is a saint."
"I... can't argue with that logic. Here, take this."
She handed Rampage a navy-blue handkerchief. It was a thoughtful gesture, assuming Rampage would want to wipe the "kiss" off her hand. Rampage accepted it gratefully.
"That was Ouro Jipangu," the grey-haired girl explained. "She's... well, she's a lover of women. To her, whether someone is an Uma Musume or not is a trivial detail; she professes to love all women. But to hear her say you eclipse all others is a first. In Japan, what do you call that? 'Truly smitten'?"
"She can do whatever she wants, and I appreciate the sentiment, truly," Rampage replied. "But I'm planning on having kids of my own someday, so for now? No thank you."
The girl gave a strained laugh—whether out of pity for Ouro's doomed love or simple sympathy, it was hard to tell.
"My apologies, I haven't introduced myself. I am Steel Haze. Like the 'combat-junkie' you met earlier, I'm an international student. Unfortunately, I've been saddled with the role of her handler—or rather, her emergency brake. Most of my day is spent cleaning up the messes she leaves behind and apologizing to everyone she's offended."
"Sounds like you've got a rough gig..."
"It has its moments. Honestly, I took the job because I didn't want to see a comrade-in-arms struggle, but lately... I'm seriously considering resigning from the team."
Steel Haze let out a heavy sigh. Despite her gentlemanly, "ikemen" aura, she was clearly a woman pushed to her limit by her peers.
"Honestly, I think I'd be much happier if I could just join your team," she joked.
"Are you asking me to scout you?"
"If only... but I can't just leave a comrade behind. Instead—would you mind if I passed an invitation to Japan on to her? I think she'd appreciate it."
"I'll set it up. Call it a 'tired worker's' solidarity discount."
"You have my thanks. I feel as though I could call you a true comrade as well."
"Feel free," Rampage said with a smirk.
Steel Haze smiled warmly, though she shook her head. "I could never call someone I admire and owe a debt to a mere 'comrade.' Besides, it's bad form to use that word for someone I haven't even faced on the track yet. I should return to my post before Locksmith causes a scene. This conversation was the highlight of my evening. I'll use it as fuel for the days ahead. Until next time."
She bowed and walked back toward Locksmith. Rampage felt a headache coming on. Every single Uma Musume she had met today was a high-octane "character."
"Still," Rampage whispered, "they're all undeniably the real deal."
That was enough for her. The Legends and the newcomers alike were full of potential. She wouldn't be able to race them all due to distance and scheduling, but she didn't mind. As long as she could have races that truly satisfied her, she would be content.
"Alright, everyone! Gather 'round!" Rampage called out. "We're all here, so let's take a commemorative photo!"
The attempt to gather everyone for a group shot immediately devolved into a squabble over who got to stand next to Rampage. Finally, Uranus let out a single, authoritative bark that silenced the room, decreeing that positions would be decided by a fair lottery.
"...To think I'd end up here. The glares from the crowd are actually painful," muttered Steel Haze, who had won the spot right next to Rampage.
"Yeah... sorry about that," Rampage replied with a winced smile.
[Postscript: Mejiro Rampage After Retirement]
Because nearly every horse she trained or supported went on to conquer G1 races, Mejiro Rampage became known as the "Incarnation of Answered Prayers."
Owners of newborn foals and stable staff with debutants began visiting her at the farm as if on a pilgrimage. Rampage herself remained blissfully indifferent, continuing her duties as a lead horse. Rumor has it the farm was flooded with requests from owners asking, "Is there any room to stable my horse next to her?"
Many retired and active jockeys visited her as well. Their comments were almost always the same:
"I really wish I could have ridden her."
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