Little Kita, You... Really Are Amazing
As Kitasan Black pondered, the atmosphere at the training grounds grew ever more heated.
The spectators' cheers, applause, and whistles intertwined, crashing over the track like raging waves.
Almond Eye still hopped up and down at the edge of the field, shouting herself hoarse. "Senior Little Kita! Come on! Push forward!"
Her little face was flushed bright red with excitement, her eyes fixed tightly on Kitasan Black on the track, as though she could pour strength into her senior with her gaze alone.
Anjing Zhen gripped the railing tightly without saying a word. His mouth hung slightly open, his eyes wide as he followed Kitasan Black's every move.
His breathing rose and fell with each of Kitasan Black's steps, his chest rising and falling along with that of the black-haired girl.
He could tell that ever since entering the middle section, Kitasan Black had been trying to imitate California Spangle.
She seemed to have carefully observed California Spangle's every movement, attempting to bring out as much of the experience and techniques she had accumulated through past learning and training as possible on this unfamiliar dirt track.
She kept adjusting herself to adapt to the unique rhythm of this entirely new kind of race.
Indeed, from a professional perspective—especially that of Dirt Races—the Running Style Kitasan Black had adjusted to was full of flaws.
That was hardly surprising. She had always run on turf; dirt had only been supplementary training before her debut and during Heavy Track special training. It was not her specialty.
If she could truly master a dirt Running Style in just about a minute, it would be nothing short of a miracle.
But for a Practice Race, adjustments at this level were already enough.
It did not mean she could win.