Horse Girl, Your Friend is Fighting Her Way Out of the Horse Racing Track

If physical cooling and medication are not used in time, this level of high fever may damage the brain, or even lead to shock and organ failure.

That is irreversible damage.

'how so…'

Poetry and Wine returned to their room and looked at Riko Kashimoto, who was unconscious and struggling to breathe.

Six kilometers.

If it's flat ground or a racetrack, it's just a 10-minute pace run for a normal racehorse girl.

Even now, if she were alone, she might be able to grit her teeth and run the distance at a very low pace.

But the problem is-

She needs to carry someone on her back.

And her heart...

Poetry and Wine glanced down at their hands.

My fingertips were a little cold and trembling slightly.

It's as if a clumsy drummer is randomly striking the heart of poetry and wine, causing the heartbeat to become somewhat disordered.

Is that illusion of recovery from yesterday still there?

do not know.

Perhaps it's still there, or perhaps it's just a fleeting illusion before death.

Carrying someone for six kilometers is probably like playing Russian roulette for her heart.

And it's the kind where all six bullets are crammed into the magazine.

Haha.

'Do I really have to risk my life for her?'

What if I die on the way? (Riko Kashimoto)

Why should I suffer like this?

A flicker of hesitation and retreat crossed the mind of poetry and wine.

She wasn't a saint; she was also afraid of pain, afraid of the despair of being on the verge of death.

When I saw Riko Kashimoto's pained and contorted face, and thought about what she said at the beach yesterday...

correct.

They still owe a large sum of money.

Poetry and Wine's gaze turned cold again.

"I really owe you one."

Poetry and Wine gritted their teeth, their deep black eyes filled with anger.

She bent down, picked up the unconscious Riko Kashimoto from the bed, and then turned around so that she could lie on her back.

The blue and white figure being pursued is called Miracle: Chapter 119 is over (Fourth update)

Riko Kashimoto is very light.

Poetry and Wine took a deep breath and adjusted their posture.

She slipped her hands under Riko Kashimoto's legs, securing her body firmly against her back to ensure she wouldn't slip off while running.

The moment I stepped out of the dormitory gate.

A sultry, humid sea breeze swept over me, carrying the salty smell of the sea and the dusty scent of an impending downpour.

The sky was covered with dark clouds, hanging heavily overhead.

The sea in the distance was no longer visible.

A gray haze hung in the air, and the boundary between the sky and the sea vanished in the wind and rain.

"Hurry up."

Even though she knew that Riko Kashimoto couldn't hear her, Giri Ma-chan still whispered something, as if to encourage herself.

The next second, the black figure shot out like an arrow.

The first two kilometers of the race went better than expected.

She still has the makings of a racehorse girl.

The muscles in my thighs contracted and relaxed powerfully, and the ground receded rapidly beneath my feet.

The roadside trees, telephone poles, and dilapidated billboards all blurred into afterimages as they receded into the distance.

The wind whistled in my ears, carrying the salty smell of the sea.

The feeling of the scenery transforming into streamlines, the long-lost pure exhilaration of a runner, stirred up an indescribable excitement deep within her heart.

Poetry and wine even made me think for a moment that maybe my body really was fine.

However, just as Poetry and Wine had completed their second kilometer, the sky finally gave way.

pat.

A drop of cold liquid hit the tip of her nose.

Then came the second drop, and the third drop.

In an instant, the rain poured down.

"Splash—!!"

As if the Milky Way had reversed its course, a dense curtain of rain instantly swallowed the world.

'Do I have a grudge against the weather? Why does something always happen on rainy days?'

The previously sweltering air suddenly cooled down.

The icy rain lashed down on Shi Yujiu, colliding with the rising heat beneath her skin and sending chills through her.

Visibility instantly blurred as the road ahead was shrouded in a white mist.

The clothes, soaked with water, became incredibly heavy, clinging to my body like a layer of lead.

We can't slow down.

Poetry and wine gritted their teeth and quickened their pace once more.

'If Riko Kashimoto, who already has a high fever, were to be caught in a downpour, she would either burn to death or freeze to death.'

That is when, a damn tipping point was reached.

The change happened without any warning.

It's not bone pain, it's not muscle soreness.

Is it...is it...the chest cavity?

An invisible, cold hand suddenly pierced through the girl's ribs and gripped her heart tightly.

Then twist it hard.

"Well……"

Poetry and Wine let out a muffled groan, his steps suddenly faltering, almost causing him and Riko Kashimoto on his back to fall into the muddy water by the roadside.

The sharp pain instantly severed her control over her body.

Rainwater mixed with cold sweat flowed into my mouth, salty, bitter, and with a rusty, bloody taste.

'Ha... they really came.'

She smiled bitterly to herself.

'I knew it. How could anything good ever happen to someone like me?'

Large patches of black spots began to appear in my field of vision, like noise on old film.

The sound of wind and rain in my ears had stopped howling and turned into a sharp, continuous shriek.

It feels like my lungs are on fire.

With each breath, they no longer inhaled oxygen, but rather scalding magma and icy rainwater.

It's water again.

It's water again.

It's water again...

Stop.

The body's survival instinct screamed loudly, and every cell trembled with fear.

'If I keep running, I'll really die.'

'The heart will explode into a cloud of blood mist with a bang, just like in those horror movies…'

?

Poetry and wine slowed their pace, each step felt like breaking free from a thousand-pound shackle.

'Something utterly worthless...everything has always been that way...'

Regret crept into her heart like a venomous snake, mingling with the cold rain and gnawing at her will.

Am I an idiot?

Why did you carry her on your back?

In this awful weather, with this broken body, what am I even trying to prove?

You could have just ignored it.

They could have simply made a phone call and then sat in a dry room waiting for the ambulance to arrive.

Even if something happens to her, even if she really dies, it's not my responsibility.

She was just being stubborn; she refused to admit that she was sick.

What has it got to do with me?

You can't risk your life to pay off debts.

Although I had this idea at first...

it hurts.

My heart really hurts.

The excruciating pain, as if it were about to explode, made the black horse want to throw the person on its back off.

I wanted to lie down in the mud by the roadside, curl up, and lick my wounds like a wounded wild animal.

Then quietly await death.

However, she won't die, and the heat on her back is real.

The temperature of another person's life slipping away seemed so faint, yet so scorching, in the cold downpour.

"...Damn it."

The words "poetry" and "wine" were squeezed out from between his teeth, his mouth filled with the taste of blood.

She didn't stop.

She suddenly remembered how Riko Kashimoto had leaned against the windowsill last night, struggling to keep herself from collapsing.

'You stubborn woman...'

Poetry and wine cursed inwardly, but it was unclear whether they were cursing Riko Kashimoto or cursing themselves.

'Why should I clean up your mess?'

'On what grounds?'

The fourth kilometer.