At Nakayama Racecourse, the moment Kitasan Black crossed the Finish Line, time seemed to freeze. Then, like fireworks ignited across the entire grandstand, the venue instantly erupted.
The densely packed spectators waved their arms in unison, their faces flushed red with excitement, their eyes wide as they let out uncontrollable cheers.
Quite a few staff members at the edge of the track had also been swept up in the frenzy, while the photographers closest to the course were busier than ever.
The sound of shutters never ceased as reporters from every outlet delivered excited broadcasts into their cameras.
At the same time, inside the gym at Central Treisen Academy.
Soft lighting fell over all kinds of training equipment. At the moment, only a handful of Horse Girls were training there.
Their eyes were all drawn to the large screen mounted high on the wall, which displayed the celebration at Nakayama Racecourse.
Duramente was among them.
She wore a simple short-sleeved workout shirt paired with shorts, and one of her exposed legs was wrapped in conspicuous athletic bandages.
She was not looking at the screen. Both hands gripped dumbbells as she focused on dumbbell clean and jerk training.
With every lift, the muscles in her arms tensed, and fine beads of sweat had long since formed on her forehead.
After finishing a set, she set the dumbbells beside her. Her gaze unconsciously fell upon her bandaged leg, and a trace of gloom appeared in her formerly calm eyes.
Reaching out, she gently stroked the edge of the bandage, her movements soft yet tinged with helplessness.
The doctor's stern instructions surfaced in her mind of their own accord:
"Right now, the inflammation isn't too serious. But because your training builds up so much muscle soreness, you failed to notice it.
"But that