The Noose

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The effect was immediate.

Behind her, Satono Crown had just felt that she had closed the gap to four and a half lengths and was preparing to make her next adjustment.

But to her astonishment, the black figure ahead did not slow in the slightest upon entering the middle stage. Instead, at a pace so constant it made her heart tighten, she began pulling away again!

Five lengths—five and a half—six!

Rather than shrinking as expected, the gap stubbornly returned to around six lengths even as they all exerted themselves, and it even showed faint signs of widening further!

"How could this be—?"

Nearly identical doubts flashed through the minds of several pursuers at once.

Their efforts to accelerate seemed to vanish without a trace, effortlessly "swallowed" by the unnervingly steady pace ahead.

Kitasan Black could clearly sense the faint hesitation and confusion coming from behind.

The pressure of the chase briefly faltered, and the unity of their rhythm was broken.

Some of them had no choice but to expend slightly more stamina than expected just to hold the gap.

So then, what will you do next? she silently wondered. Will you catch up now, or—like usual—wait until the Final Straight?

But either way, it makes no difference to me.

Because right now, for the current me—this is only the beginning.

The air over the track seemed to be sliced apart and solidified by Kitasan Black's steady strides, forming an invisible yet resilient barrier between her and the pack desperately pursuing her from behind.

Six lengths.

To the spectators and commentators, that distance might have represented the possibility of a comeback. But to the Horse Girls in the second group, it felt more like a noose slowly