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

She found a relatively dry corner and slowly slid down against the wall.

A chill emanated from the rough wall through her thin clothing, and the cold touch slightly cleared her mind, which was still reeling from the effects of low blood sugar.

The noise outside the alley became somewhat distant, as if separated by a thick layer of frosted glass.

Poetry and Wine closed their eyes, adjusted their breathing, and tried to put their bodies into standby mode.

As long as you don't move, you can reduce energy expenditure; and as long as you fall asleep, you can probably temporarily forget the burning hunger in your stomach.

Unfortunately, fate seemed to think that the trials it presented to her were not surprising enough.

In early spring in Tokyo, the weather changes more abruptly and irrationally than any drama.

A draft carrying the damp scent of earth swept through the narrow alley, making the empty soda cans at her feet rattle.

The already oppressive atmosphere froze instantly, becoming so suffocating that it was hard to breathe.

Immediately afterwards, a drop of cold liquid landed on the tip of her nose without warning, causing her ears, which had been drooping, to twitch violently.

Poetry and Wine slowly opened their eyes, somewhat sluggishly raising their heads to look at the only sliver of sky above.

The area had been completely filled with inky black clouds, swallowing up even the city's original radiance.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock, splash-splash—"

What started as tentative raindrops quickly turned into a torrential downpour of cold rain.

This steel jungle was completely engulfed by a sudden, torrential downpour.

Tokyo’s drainage system groaned under the strain, as murky rainwater gathered into streams along the sloping roads and relentlessly flooded the city’s low-lying areas.

This is the dark alley where poetry and wine now reside.

Main character: Chapter 251 Thank you

"..."

Poetry and Wine shrank back into the corner, looking around as she tried to find a place to shelter from the rain.

She eventually found shelter under a rain shelter deep in the narrow, dark alley.

This is not an ideal refuge.

The alley is a gap between two old buildings, where sunlight rarely reaches.

The air was filled with the lingering smell of moss and the musty odor emanating from the kitchen exhaust fan.

There was a dark green plastic rain shelter overhead, which must have been left behind by a shop that had long since closed down.

It hung askew on the wall, its surface covered with dust and years of grime.

Poetry and wine leaned against the cold, rough wall, their bodies slightly curled up.

At first, she thought she could at least survive the rain shower here.

But she overestimated the city's kindness to the homeless and underestimated the intensity of the rain.

"Slap! Slap slap slap—"

Large raindrops, like dense machine gun bullets, relentlessly pounded on the fragile plastic roof, creating a deafening noise.

Then the flimsy and obviously dilapidated rain shelter also reached its limit.

"Tick."

The first drop of cold water seeped down through an imperceptible crack in the roof and, pulled by gravity, landed on the shoulders of Poetry and Wine.

The black-haired girl's shoulders twitched very slightly.

She didn't say anything, but silently moved half a step to the right, trying to avoid the leak.

However, this is just the beginning.

As the rain intensified, the crack widened rapidly under the scouring of the water.

What were originally tiny raindrops turned into a continuous stream of icy water within just a few minutes.

Moreover, the strong winds outside the alley, mixed with heavy rain, swept the raindrops horizontally into this already cramped shelter.

There's no escaping it now.

The leaking rain and the raging wind and rain intertwined to form a fine net, quickly soaking through the already thin clothes on Shi Yujiu's body.

The fabric, which originally had some windproof properties, turned into a cold, heavy armor after being completely soaked in water, clinging tightly to her body.

"..."

Poetry and wine were no longer something they could futilely avoid.

She simply stood there, her dark eyes slightly lowered, her eyelashes covered in water droplets.

The chill seeped mercilessly into my bones along with the rain.

The icy sensation was like a cold, venomous snake, climbing up my spine, slowing down the flow of blood wherever it went.

If it were still in the same state it had been in before, having undergone countless high-intensity training sessions and battles on muddy grounds and heavy riding fields, then Poetry and Wine might have been able to withstand this period of hypothermia thanks to their amazing endurance.

However, the body that Godolphin Arab gave her after the time travel was clearly not in much better shape yet.

This body is far too immature.

Hypothermia.

It is taking over this newborn body in an irreversible manner.

Poetry and wine can clearly feel their own body heat being lost drop by drop on the dirty cement floor, along with the rainwater dripping from their fingertips.

It started with numbness in the fingers and toes, and the numbness continued to spread; then the muscles in the calves and arms began to spasm uncontrollably in order to generate heat.

She gritted her teeth and tried to get through this difficult situation.

Unfortunately, the state of poetry and wine also requires the addition of low blood sugar.

Because of the lack of food intake, this body, which could have unleashed astonishing power, now lacks even the energy to maintain its basic metabolism.

My vision started to become a little blurry.

Outside the alleyway, the bizarre and colorful neon lights reflected in the puddles were now shrouded in a murky gray hue in the eyes of poetry and wine.

The whole world has been forcibly veiled in a gray filter.

Hearing problems also began to appear.

The loud sound of rain gradually distorted in my ears, turning into a sharp, high-frequency tinnitus.

It was like the static sound of an old CRT television when it lost signal, making her head ache.

"Ha ha……"

Poetry and wine's breath became rapid and shallow, and the exhaled white breath vanished the moment it came into contact with the cold air.

She slowly slid down the wall and sat down.

A shallow layer of sewage had already accumulated on the ground, and the icy water instantly soaked through her trouser legs and shoes.

For her, who suffers from severe hydrophobia, this should have been a sensation she would avoid at all costs.

But at this moment, she no longer had the energy to care about any of that.

Poetry and Wine buried their heads deeply in their knees, wrapped their arms around each other, and clasped their hands tightly around their shoulders, their fingers almost sinking into the soaked fabric.

She curled herself into the smallest possible ball, trying to retain the last bit of her pitiful body temperature.

Her black horse ears were now completely drooping, having lost all their former alertness and arrogance.

His black hair, soaked by the rain, was tangled in clumps, dripping water down his bangs.

Its tail lay lifelessly coiled on the sewage-soaked ground, letting the cold rain wash over it.

At this moment, she was like a stray black cat left on the roadside, trembling and unable to even whimper.

The environmental degradation continues to worsen.

The rainwater that had accumulated on the ground began to back up slightly due to the blockage in the sewer, and the water flowed over the soles of her shoes.

A fear of rain began to haunt me subconsciously.

My soaked clothes clung to my body, heavy like seaweed wrapped around my limbs, and the continuous sound of rain around me seemed to transform into the muffled roar of some massive body of water closing in.

"Splash!"

The sound of waves could be heard.

Poetry and wine close their eyes, their long eyelashes trembling incessantly.

'I can't sleep.'

'I absolutely cannot fall asleep here.'

She kept talking to herself in her mind, but her voice seemed so weak.

To combat the waves of drowsiness that surged in, Poetry and Wine began to force their brains to work, searching for an anchor point in their minds to focus their attention.

And this anchor point quickly locked onto a specific object.

'Gao Duofeng Arabic...'

Poetry and wine intermittently murmured that name in my heart.

She no longer had the strength to speak, and could only grit her teeth and mutter in her heart, filled with resentment and unwillingness.

'You...you presumptuous...you damn goddess...'

A drop of rain slid down the tip of her nose and landed on her crossed arms.

Poetry and Wine's fingers were red from squeezing too hard, and she bit her lower lip tightly, trying to use the pain to dispel the dark fog in front of her.

'They left me here...in this place where I have no one to turn to...'

They won't give us money... they won't give us identification... they won't even give us an umbrella...

Main character: Chapter 252 Love Wine TV, you guys win (Third update)

"Do you want to see me... experience what it's like to be a stray dog ​​again...?"

'I...hate you...'

She repeated these dry, somewhat childish complaints to herself over and over again.

No matter how many harsh words are uttered, they ultimately cannot change the cruel reality.

No matter how much the black-haired girl struggled mentally, her body's functions were irreversibly heading towards a breakdown.

Due to low body temperature, the brain begins to gradually cut off blood supply to the limbs in order to protect the core organs.

The muscles that were shivering violently from the cold had stopped spasming at some point.

'A final burst of energy... a last gasp?'

A strange, even somewhat comforting, illusion began to spread through the senses.

The biting coldness of poetry and wine seems to be fading, replaced by the false illusion of being warm and cozy in a soft down comforter.

So tired…

Why... do you still work so hard?

The black-haired mare's chin rested on her knees, making her head seem ten times heavier.

Unable to support the weight any longer, her head tilted slightly to one side and rested on her cold arm.

The gray filter in my vision is being gradually eroded by pure darkness.

The world outside the alley—the swishing sound of car tires rolling over puddles and the hurried footsteps of pedestrians with umbrellas in the distance—all became distant and ethereal echoes in her ears.

My body is getting heavier and heavier.

The black eyes, which were usually always watching everything around them with vigilance, were now unfocused.

My eyelids felt like they were weighed down with heavy lead; each blink required tremendous effort.

And each time you close your eyes, the time it takes to open them again becomes longer and longer.

'Can't sleep...'