It had been three and a half years.
To everyone else.
To me?
I had long since lost count.
The first few dozen attempts were easy to remember.
The failures stood out.
The race where I trained speed too aggressively.
The race where I ignored stamina.
The race where I discovered that weather mattered.
The race where a single bad positioning decision ended an entire career.
Then the failures started blending together.
Dozens became hundreds.
Hundreds became something I stopped counting.
Entire three-year careers reduced to lessons.
Entire timelines sacrificed for information.
I learned every training schedule.
Every race condition.
Every hidden event.
Every mood modifier.
Every stat threshold.
Every mistake.
I had spent so long chasing a satisfactory run that the original goal barely mattered anymore.
And yet...
After all that time...
My status screen still mocked me.
[B+ Career Evaluation]
I stared at it for several seconds.
Then sighed.
"Seriously?"
Undefeated.
Every objective completed.
Every race won.
Every major challenge cleared.
And the system still refused to give me an A.
Apparently hundreds of years of accumulated experience only qualified as "above average."
I wanted to punch whoever designed this thing.
Instead I bought a sundae.
If the system wanted perfection, then I was going to squeeze every advantage I could find.
Mood mattered.
A lot.
The vanilla sundae pushed my condition from Good to Excellent.
A tiny bonus.
But tiny bonuses won races.
The Sunny Day Doll hanging from my bag swayed gently as I walked.
Another small effect.
Better footing on good ground.
Another tiny advantage.
Another fraction of a percent.
Most people ignored bonuses like these.
Most people hadn't spent centuries learning how much fractions mattered.
I took a bite of the sundae.
Then another.
The cold sweetness helped.
At least a little.
Today was special.
A G2.
Not because of the prize money.
Not because of the prestige.
Because according to everything I knew, this was the race where Marzensky became untouchable.
The race that transformed her from a champion into a legend.
The race where history started calling her invincible.
I finished the last spoonful of ice cream and headed toward the track.
The atmosphere felt strange.
Wrong.
The other runners weren't acting like normal NPCs.
They watched each other.
Adjusted positions.
Changed warm-up patterns.
Adapted.
Like they were thinking.
Like they were learning.
I frowned.
That was new.
Then I saw her.
Marzenskii.
The original.
The anime version.
The undefeated monster history adored.
Bright eyes.
Confident smile.
The woman who was supposed to own this race.
For a moment I simply stared.
After everything.
After all the failed timelines.
After all the resets.
After all the years.
I was finally standing on the same track as her.
"Oh."
A laugh escaped me.
"So you're here."
History said she was supposed to win.
History said she was supposed to become unbeatable.
History said she was the future.
I adjusted my gloves.
Then stepped toward the gate.
"Guess I'm here to ruin the script."
Marzenskii glanced toward me.
Her eyes lingered for a second.
Then she smiled.
Not politely.
Not casually.
Curiously.
Like she'd already realized something.
Like she understood I wasn't just another challenger.
And for the first time in a very long time...
I felt excited.
Not because of the race.
Because if I won this one, there was a challenge reward waiting afterward.
And challenge rewards were always worth taking.