Three years had passed.
At the URA Finals, Mejiro McQueen gritted her teeth, staring at the timer readout.
She lost.
Unwilling to accept it.
But that was reality.
This simulation training had started with an incredible opening thanks to her intense regimen—she'd even claimed an undefeated Triple Crown.
But by the third year, her condition plummeted.
That's when she realized her overzealous early training had wrecked her body; her stats cascaded downward.
The third year? Mostly spent treating her illnesses.
But her health never truly recovered—instead, with each successive race, her condition worsened.
Luckily, she could still run.
Unluckily, her stats dropped from all S in the second year to A overall, with stamina and power sinking to B.
So all three races that year? Losses.
And the crucial URA race? She barely scraped into the finals, only to miss the podium entirely.
[This simulation training session has ended.]
A synthetic computer voice rang in Mejiro McQueen's ears. The next moment, her consciousness blurred, and she returned to the real world.
Staring at the computer screen before her, she sat dazed, the abrupt shift leaving her disoriented.
But she quickly composed herself.
Three years of grueling training, a packed race schedule, and the torment of illness had forged her into something tougher.
Even if that world had only her in it, those three years were utterly real.
She clicked open the completed training character card.
[Mejiro McQueen
Speed: A | Stamina: B+ | Power: B+ | Guts: A+ | Intelligence: S
Field: Unawakened
Skills: Betting on the Strongest Name (Flash), Escapist (Gold), First-Move Victory (Gold), Technique-Oriented (Gold), Curve Professor (Gold), Focus (White), Swift Run (White), Vanguard (White)...]
"If this were the game, it'd be trash," Mejiro McQueen said calmly.
But after three years in simulation training, she knew full well the gap between game and reality.
Simulation training might look like the game, but it was grounded in real principles.
In-game stats had long shattered SS, piling up to UB at the peak.
URA Finals champs with just one SS stat could break records, dipping under 45 seconds for a kilometer.
UB stats? She couldn't even fathom what breed of Uma Musume that would be.
She figured in reality, maxing all stats at SS was the true ceiling.
Breaking that? It'd be less Uma Musume and more unicorn-tier fantasy creature.
From the anime records, even S-rank stats were rare among real Uma Musume.
Silence Suzuka's top speed was just 57 seconds per kilometer—nowhere near that robot Nebula Sky in the URA Finals.
After that, Mejiro McQueen went back to bed.
Returning to reality, she'd inherited the trained character's stats and shed the injury debuffs, but the mental wear and tear carried over. She needed a solid sleep to recharge.
She slept soundly. Ever since getting injured in training mode, her rest had been crap—waking up in pain every night.
But now, she was free of the agony.
Upon waking, she showered, then settled at the computer with a mug of instant coffee.
Savoring a sip of the cheap brew, Mejiro McQueen clicked into [Events].
[Use 'Mejiro McQueen' to participate in this race?]
She set the mug down and decisively selected yes.
The next second, she was transported to a race venue.
Her sudden appearance drew no attention.
Mejiro McQueen scanned the surrounding Uma Musume.
Unlike simulation training, these didn't look like robots.
She even spotted a 'Mejiro McQueen' in black racing silks.
But thanks to the system's lingering effect, her presence went utterly ignored.
Mejiro McQueen looked up at the broadcast screen.
'Kikuka Sho?'
Shock!
She glanced back at 'Mejiro McQueen.'
Was the system stirring up trouble? Making her snipe the other one?
If so, the loser would be bawling post-race.
'Uh, probably—this isn't true reality anyway?'
Shaking her head, she headed to the gate.
It felt bizarre, but now that she was in, she had zero intention of losing.
She'd tasted defeat plenty in simulation training.
She absolutely had to win—victory was the only thing with value to her.
As for what losing meant for that 'Mejiro McQueen'? She couldn't care less.
Three years ago, she might've hesitated out of fondness for the 2D waifu.
But now? That held no value!
All she craved was victory. Once on the track, her sole goal: the crown!
"All Uma Musume have entered the gates."
With the gates clanging shut, the countdown lights flashed red and green.
Three, two, one!
3000 meters, Kikuka Sho—race start!
The instant the gates flew open, Mejiro McQueen shot out like an arrow.
A glint flashed in those purple eyes.
[Focus], [First-Move Victory]...
Skills activate!
Through special training and races in simulation, she'd long mastered skill triggers and timing.
It was like overdrive in some mecha anime.
At first, acquiring a skill just planted the seed—activation depended on conditions.
But now, like Kira Yamato mastering burst mode later on, she could control them at will.
"All Uma Musume are off the line—the leader is No. 3—?"
The announcer's voice hitched.
After a stunned pause, he bellowed: "What the hell? There are two Mejiro McQueen entries on the track!"
That's when everyone clocked the anomaly; the instinctive oversight shattered.
Mejiro McQueen felt the barrage of stares from behind.
But she ignored them entirely.
She wouldn't slack on acceleration before the first turn.
"No. 3! Mejiro McQueen! Pulling away from the pack—so fast! Is this a full-escape strategy?!"
The other racers stared at the figure slicing through the air ahead, dumbfounded.
No time to ponder the double Mejiro McQueen mystery.
But that lead figure? Was No. 3 nuts?
A full escape in a 3000-meter long-distance race?
She'd burn out before the final stretch, right? Was this really the smart Mejiro McQueen?
"No. 11! Fan favorite Mejiro McQueen is holding third."
'Mejiro McQueen' glared daggers at the white blur ahead.
This random 'self' had thrown her rhythm into chaos!
Who the hell was she?
Why did she look identical, even down to the alternate-color racing silks?
By now, Mejiro McQueen led second place by ten lengths, hitting the first turn first.
Her speed finally tapered.
The chasers surged, closing in.
But this was a 3000-meter endurance test, after all.
Kikuka Sho entrants weren't scrubs; they wouldn't chase blindly, letting her dictate pace.
Past the first turn, second place narrowed to four lengths.
The mid-race stretch was Mejiro McQueen's weak spot.
She hadn't picked up many mid-phase skills.
In truth, during simulation, she could've learned far more—not just her character's pool, which only eased acquisition for natives.
Tracen Academy's library held a full skill catalog for study.
But time was the killer.
Simulation skill learning wasn't point-buy like the game; it demanded gradual enlightenment.
This run? Barely two years of progress; the third was a wash.
So yes, glaring gaps in her kit.
But—
That didn't mean her mid-game was weaker than these Uma Musume!
Real ones seemed even feebler than she'd budgeted—her stats held up fine!
And despite the confusion, she sensed these rivals barely wielded skills?
"Into the final turn—the leader's still No. 3!"
"But the pack's closing in—can No. 3 hold the lead?"
"No. 3's stamina looks dicey."
The announcer's words barely faded.
Mejiro McQueen dove into the turn—and accelerated. White shockwaves surged anew!
She'd been holding that gold corner-speed skill for this exact moment.
Boosted, she instantly gapped the field, blasting through the final bend at blistering pace.
The pursuers panicked; original Mejiro McQueen went all-out in chase.
They had no clue: post-turn, the leader hit her second wind!
Flash skill activate!
Unlike the game's unique, this upgraded Flash version was a beast.
Shockwaves roiled around Mejiro McQueen.
Afterimages trailed her form; radiant colors bloomed beneath her feet.
A rainbow gleam streaked by!
Everyone blinked—then bam, she'd stretched the lead massively.
"No. 3 hits the homestretch! Unreal—she just shook the entire field in a flash!"
Cheers erupted from the stands.
No one knew this Mejiro McQueen's deal or how she'd slipped quals for a marquee event.
But right now, her running form had them hooked.
In the premium seats, Symboli Rudolf couldn't stay seated. She rose, eyeing the track figure with puzzlement and unease.