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

'I won't lose... Everyone's watching me... I absolutely cannot fall here!'

Narita's expression turned somewhat ferocious as she tried to push her already exhausted body to its limits, attempting to cross the final and most desperate two hundred meters.

But it didn't work.

The tempo of a good opera at this moment has completely surpassed the comprehension of most people.

She was like a purple-gold meteor streaking across the long night, leaving a breathtaking trail on the outermost edge of the muddy path.

ten meters...

five meters...

Until it was half a body length ahead of Narita Road.

That is to say...

Victory is about to be achieved...

In the brief moment when the two crossed paths, the opera singer even turned his head slightly with ease.

In the blink of an eye.

She glanced admiringly at Naritaji, whose face was contorted with pain as he exerted all his strength.

Everyone's efforts deserve praise.

But at the center of this century's stage, it is destined to be ruled by a single overlord.

"It's surpassed—!!!"

Accompanied by the commentator's almost voiceless roar, Good Opera, with only twenty meters left to the finish line, overtook Narita Road with an unstoppable momentum!

There is no suspense.

"Cross the finish line! Good opera wins!"

"Great opera reigns supreme at the Satsuki Sho competition!"

"What a magnificent performance! With an unbelievable powerful final shot from the outside, they secured the ultimate victory in the first race of the classic Triple Crown, the Satsuki Sho, in the treacherous terrain!!"

After a few seconds of deathly silence, the entire Zhongshan Racecourse erupted in a frenzied cheer that could have lifted the roof off.

Countless umbrellas were thrown into the air, and people screamed the orange-haired girl's name in the wind and rain.

"You did it, Opera San!"

Seeing this scene from the stands, the famous general Nu Tao clenched his hands in delight, his mouth agape in a wide grin.

The cheers of countless spectators resounded throughout the entire venue.

The panting Overlord seemed to be startled by the cheers, his cloak billowing in the sound.

Good Opera raises her right hand high, fingers spread, and in front of the finish line that everyone is watching, amidst the raging wind, rain, and mud, she strikes a magnificent victory pose.

The cold rain lashed her face, but it couldn't wash away the charming smile on her lips.

After crossing the finish line, Narita's last bit of strength finally gave way, and his steps slowed down, becoming unsteady.

'That's really impressive.'

Her golden hair clung wetly to her pale cheeks, and her chest heaved violently.

'It's amazing that a small opera can produce such a powerful performance.'

Narita raised her heavy head and looked at the figure in front of her, who was being bathed in cheers. Her eyes stung, and she clenched her fists tightly.

'I was so close, I really wanted to win this game.'

But she bit her lower lip tightly, tilted her head back, and let the rain wash over her cheeks, refusing to let the tears fall.

'I really want to, I could have done better.'

"Squad Leader Aru!"

Just then, a lot of voices came from the distance, and Narita was stunned.

We'll support you again next time!

"Narita Road is already very good!"

"Lusan—!!"

At the very front of the stands, a group of students dressed in Tressen Academy uniforms were braving the rain, leaning on the railing and shouting her name.

Mr. Watanabe, the trainer from Narita Road, was already standing by the railing with a dry towel and a coat, smiling as he watched her.

Main character: Chapter 353, what a pity

The blonde girl was panting heavily, muddy water dripping down her chin.

Hearing the shouts, she looked up at her supporters.

The trainer simply nodded and gave a smile.

Narita nodded and patted his cheeks.

Because she was overtaken at the last moment, her eyes were still slightly red.

But when she faced the crowd, Narita took a deep sniff and flashed a bright, sunny smile.

"Everyone—! I'm so sorry, we were so close to winning!"

She responded loudly, waving her mud-covered arms vigorously, though it was unclear whether the liquid in her eyes was rain or tears.

Narita's tone began to rise.

"However, I will work even harder! The Satsuki Prize is just the first step. I will definitely win at the Japan Darby!"

Even if the golden protagonist falls, he will stand up with a smile, covered in mud, under everyone's gaze.

Naritaji has always been such a positive person.

Outside of Narita Road.

Poetry and Wine, dragging their leaden legs, crossed the finish line in third place, covered in mud.

She stopped, her legs went weak, and she braced herself against her knees with her hands, gasping for breath.

The hem of the black trench coat was still dripping with murky sewage.

Poetry and wine struggled to lift their heads, looking through the still dense rain curtain at the magnificent opera not far ahead, with one arm raised high, holding the entire sky in its hands.

The game is over, but the rain is still falling.

The air above Zhongshan Racecourse was filled with resounding cheers, the heavy pressure of testing one's spirit weighing heavily on the shoulders of every loser.

Orihime was the first to leave.

Her long, dark brown hair was completely soaked in mud and water, clinging to her pale cheeks in strands.

The girl stood there, looking down at her high-top boots, her deep purple eyes filled with a suffocating stillness.

She gritted her teeth in frustration, rain streaming down her cheeks.

Admiring Orihime, she walked straight towards the passage leading to the lounge.

Poetry and wine stood alone at the edge of the track, their bodies ice-cold.

She felt that her mindset was completely unbalanced.

The pride built on talent and hard work was shattered in an instant.

The failure to find meaning.

Since her debut, she has never tasted defeat.

Until today, it perished in the rain.

'water……'

Poetry and Wine looked down at the waterlogged grass at their feet, and their stomachs churned.

The suffocating feeling of drowning combined with her current twisted mindset was almost tearing her reason apart.

Just as she was trembling slightly, the sound of boot heels suddenly rang out.

"Hahaha—!"

Accompanied by the signature big laugh, a dazzling orange hue appeared in the vision of poetry and wine.

A good opera.

The newly crowned "Overlord" is now gracefully walking towards her, wearing a purple and yellow color-blocked cloak that she wears with the imposing presence of a flag.

Her bright purple eyes sparkled with fervent starlight as she gazed sincerely at the poetry and wine.

“Lift your head, my Percival.”

Good Opera stretched out a hand and gently brushed aside her orange bangs, which were still damp with water droplets.

Then he turned to poetry and wine.

"This is a magnificent performance; your posture as you overcome everything in the mud is still incredibly beautiful."

Upon hearing this, Shi Yujiu took a deep breath, the cold air piercing her lungs as she forcefully suppressed the trembling in her body.

The last vestige of her self-respect is the only thing she can rely on to support herself now.

Poetry and Wine slowly raised her head, her dark eyes now bloodshot, her gaze somewhat unfocused, but she still forced herself to look directly at the victor before her.

"...This is just...the first of the classic three crowns."

She clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging deep into the soft flesh of her palms.

"Great opera, you are indeed very strong. But don't think... that's the end of it."

She rudely slapped away the hand that was holding the opera, and then forced herself to stand up.

Good Opera looked at the black-haired girl in front of him, who was stubbornly refusing to bend her back, and a hint of admiration flashed in his purple eyes.

She wasn't angry at being contradicted; instead, she suddenly spread her arms wide to the sides, making an exaggerated gesture of embracing the heavens and earth.

"Well said! Only those with this kind of fighting spirit are worthy of being my formidable rivals on the road to the pinnacle of opera!"

She leaned slightly closer to the poetry and wine, lowering her voice slightly.

"Jiusang."

"Since you have already mustered the courage to burn to the very end in this mud that you so deeply fear... why let those few insignificant puddles forever hinder your steps that could have measured the starry sky?"

She reached out and gently patted Poetry and Wine's stiff shoulder.

"Cross over that illusion. Then, in your most perfect form, compete with me for the most dazzling crown in the world."

Poetry and Wine's pupils suddenly contracted, and their breath caught in their throats for a moment.

"Then, let's look forward to our next dance together!"

Without giving poetry and wine a chance to refute, the great opera gracefully turned away.

Reporters and photographers swarmed forward like sharks smelling blood. Good Opera, arms raised, walked towards the barrage of flashes and microphones.

Only when that dazzling orange was completely submerged by the crowd did Poetry and Wine's tense mind begin to relax.

She felt all her strength drain away in an instant.

'I can't fall here.'

She didn't want to show her ugly, miserable state in front of anyone.

Poetry and wine clenched their teeth tightly, their mouths filled with a strong taste of rust.

Turning around, she stumbled away from everyone's gaze and plunged into the passageway leading to the lounge.

The noise outside was gradually shut out by the thick concrete walls.

The passageway was dark, with only a few dim emergency lights flashing.

Poetry and Wine didn't return to the players' lounge; it must be full of reporters and staff right now.

Guided by her memory, she wandered aimlessly through the intricate underground facilities.

Footsteps echoed in the empty corridor.

"Tick."