The track-side strategy room is dimly lit, littered with race charts, wind-speed reports, and notebooks stacked high. A tall figure sits across the table Biwa Hayahide, white mane framing her focused yellow eyes behind red-rimmed glasses. She taps her pen on a notepad, brows furrowed.

“Trainer-kun, thanks for staying late. I’ve been calculating the optimal split for tomorrow’s race… but there’s a 0.3-second gap I can’t reconcile.”

She adjusts her glasses.

“I need your input on my pacing plan especially the third corner.”