The resounding fanfare filled the racecourse, its brassy tones announcing the start of the main event.
"The fanfare echoes across the track, and the horses are entering the gates! Over 200,000 fans gathered here at Tokyo Racecourse, alongside millions watching live at viewing parties in the Tokyo Dome, Sapporo Dome, Escon Field, and living rooms all across Japan... The time has finally come for the 2nd Legend Race!"
"Seven Triple Crown winners surrounded by G1 and graded-stakes champions, along with elite runners who fought their way through the Legend Race qualifiers... What kind of race will this turn out to be? It's completely beyond imagination!"
With literal legends assembled in one place, conventional wisdom no longer applied.
"Will Twin Turbo, Silver Stone, and Mejiro Rampage set a breakaway lead? Will the chasers like Agnes Flora and Ikuno Dictus mark Rampage from behind?"
"How will the sovereigns move—Symboli Rudolf and Tokai Teio?"
"And what about the overseas contender, Armlinks? What will Locksmith, Silverio, and Sunday Silence do?!"
"Mejiro Rampage enters the outermost gate! Bizen Nishiki, Soul Decayer, Black Cloud... How will they move? It is impossible to predict! Here we go—the 2nd Legend Race Medium Distance 2400m!"
A heavy silence settled over the stadium. The crowd held its breath as one, united in a single wish: Show us your best. Show us the ultimate race.
Then, the moment arrived.
"THE GATES ARE OPEN!"
The curtain rose.
"And they're off! A clean start for everyone, but springing forward first is our familiar blitz runner, Twin Turbo! Followed closely by Silver Stone!"
The crowd roared for the familiar breakaway duel. But in the next split second, a sharp gust of wind swept past them both.
"When did she—!?"
"Wait, wasn't she on the outside gate!?"
"Slicing right through from the outside—it's our Tyrant, Mejiro Rampage, taking the lead! She flew past the innermost runners in the blink of an eye! She's holding down two global G1 winners to command the pace!"
"That form... that's mine...!" A watching runner muttered in awe. It was Silence Suzuka's signature launch—shifting gears and reaching top acceleration in a single stride.
"Mejiro Rampage leads the pack! Twin Turbo sits in second, with Silver Stone in third! Four lengths back comes the regional general, Black Cloud, followed by Soul Decayer and Bizen Nishiki!"
"Ikuno Dictus and Agnes Flora lead the forward group, positioning themselves early! Armlinks is right on their tails, with Sunday Silence following—but this pace is blistering!"
"Hah! You look much better on the turf, Rampage!!" Sunday Silence grinned wildly.
"To think I'd get to race her like this again... I have to thank you, Rampage," Rudolf murmured, her eyes burning. "Shall we raise the tempo!?"
Sunday Silence unleashed her aura—a style best described as wildly unrefined, purely instinctive, yet backed by countless hours of refined skill.
"Exercising elite technique on a purely unconscious level..." C.B. exhaled in amazement. "She doesn't even need to think."
"Look at her go! Sunday Silence passes Twin Turbo and Silver Stone with a monstrous stride! Is this the horse that bit back at fate itself?!"
"Gah, so fast!?" Turbo yelled. "Was Sunday always this scary!?"
"HAH!? You've been underestimating me this whole time, Turbo!?" Sunday barked back. "Just wait till after the race! And I'm taking care of the one next to you, too!"
"What did Turbo do wrong!?"
"Why am I getting dragged into this!?" Silver Stone cried out as they sprinted for their lives.
Watching Sunday Silence's every move, Soul Decayer recorded everything—the rhythm, the breathing, the subtle weight shifts.
"—Let's go."
"Soul Decayer is making her move! But look at her form—it's an exact replica of Sunday Silence's running style!"
"Soul Decayer... Ah! That rumor from Central Tracen—the runner who could copy any form just by watching it once!"
"I see. So that's how you move. Fascinating," Locksmith chuckled, her own posture subtly shifting as she surged forward alongside them.
"World-class monsters everywhere, huh?" Cedar Blade muttered.
"Scared, General?" Black Cloud asked.
"You wish."
Further back, C.B. glanced at the trailing group. "This might actually play into our hands... assuming we time our push right."
The pace was brutal due to the breakaway leaders. Normally, late-closers would suffer under this kind of pressure, but something else was suffocating the field.
"Is this... the 'welcome' from the overseas legendary stage?" Ryan panted, sweat dripping down her brow.
Teio felt it too—a heavy, suffocating pressure settling over the track. They should have noticed earlier. The moment Sunday Silence made her move, her aura had transformed into pure, dense malice.
To Sunday Silence, the turf was a battlefield. The winner carried the burden of everyone they had ever defeated. Years of crushing rivals had coated her aura in a dark, oppressive pressure that dragged down every runner around her.
[Sunday Silence Unique Skill: Applies a heavy debuff to nearby runners, reducing Speed, Acceleration, Stamina, and Wisdom. The effect scales with the number of opponents she has conquered.]
"Come on, Rampage! I'll make you part of my collection too!" Sunday roared.
Rampage's eyes flashed as she pressed forward, unfazed. "Try it. It takes more than a little malice to kill me."
"NEXT TIME: THE REAL BATTLE BEGINS!"
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