Chapter 1650

NO．265：Unable to find a place to draw a sheep

Aomo Lindun deeply knew a fact: that the Light-Chasers Club was indeed a fan club for horse girls.

Although the club's organizational charter is problematic and its actions don't resemble those of genuine fans, no one has ever actually established a definition for fan levels, and no one can make that definition hold across different eras.

When you are attracted by their appearance and ideas, you are already their fan.

Rather than distinguishing light and heavy among them, it's better to delineate the scope of your own D.

Just as people can have many beliefs, fans can also support many horse girls; the number itself doesn't matter. Anyway, when you only have one vote to cast, you'll know who to vote for.

But if you go beyond numbers, reaching the level of the whole group, the simple label of 'fan' is insufficient to capture your unique and peculiar feelings.

Like Thus we output: Thus we output: QiuChuan Misheng, JunChuan JiangSheng, Ludaofu Xiangzheng, and others, or……….

Aomo Lindun.

As a member thereof, when the faceless outsider curiously questioned where his passion for horse girls came from, his intuition reached a conclusion far faster than continual analysis of computing power——

Among all those words, perhaps only this sentence is what the person behind him truly wanted to ask.

And this question precisely leaked the other's inner unease, allowing him to quickly reverse the conversation's rhythm, concluding with his own lofty attitude of waiting.

"Although your provocation looks like something, will they really bite on it?"

When he removed the auxiliary terminal from his forehead, the Belstarter Beast also jumped onto the terminal's screen and popped out, still clutching a few mechanical fragments that hadn't scattered.

The classic modified digital beast, supplied by the steel empire with massive orders. Its extremely low transaction threshold is a major feature, but it also has high-tier units for large orders; however, it obviously can't cope with Aomo's partner, who had already taken up an Ultimate Form stance in advance.

Even the corpse's remnants were tossed into a nearby trash can, while he himself first ran toward a not-so-distant mini-fridge.

These assorted items are fully stocked in the VIP lounge of the β training ground; you can see that female cowboy finish her cola, then munch on chips, then dash to the small kitchen‑style counter, skillfully work the buffet table, and shortly after she comes out holding the tray bearing eleven ice creams and asks:

"What flavor would you like?"

"Coffee."

Aomo said, fiddling with the light screen to reopen the windows that Belsta had just pushed aside.

"Ha, I knew it. Won't you consider trying another flavor? Like what Chazuo's kid likes… uh…"

"Still coffee." Aomo, flipping through the webpage, said.

"Bairen! What Bairen likes… uh…"

"Soda, are you sure that's a flavor ice cream should have?"

"At least that self‑service counter really has this flavor."

The Belsta beast who handed over the coffee ice cream glanced around the quiet lounge, then looked out the floor‑to‑ceiling window at the track.

Compared to last time's track with just two people, this one is actually lively; high‑school and adult groups each have eight horse girls present, making it look like a small race at first glance.

But if you look closely, you'll see the two groups are running on completely different tracks—not even in the same dimension.

It only appears that they share a venue because the venue system overlays their displays visually.

And when you notice the visible storm of creation on the adult side, you understand why the two groups aren't on the same track, thereby gaining a clearer grasp of the gap between classic era and ancient horse‑era, and between newcomers and ancient kings.

"Aren't you in a hurry to meet up with them?"

"They're still just playing around; there's no need for a trainer to watch over them." Aomo, scrolling through the webpage, frowned.

"But if you want to treat them, you can go over now."

"I've heard you people… uh, demons, uh… horse girls," although they've been together for a while, the Belsta beast hasn't had many chances to stress racial differences, so its phrasing is stuck at an early stage when it first contacted humans: "Do you get sick after eating ice cream right after running?"

"Qianming and Bairen at that level won't get sick, but Suzi's group might have a slight chance; however, they haven't had any recent race obligations, so go along with what they want."

"That's just letting them do as they please, right? I heard Suzi's leg might have a problem—so we don't need to worry, do we?"

"Early symptoms should show visible improvement within three days…" As his fingertip traced the latest data for the Golden Master and the Noble Lady, Aomo pondered, "Qianming's foot is what really worries me for her performance in the official race."

"If you get injured in that kind of race, it's easy to become seriously hurt, right?"

Although it's such a topic, the Belsta beast still had a great appetite, polishing off the ice cream in its hand in two or three bites; by contrast, Aomo's left‑hand cup hadn't moved at all.

Thus it was only natural that it would meet the fate of being snatched away.

"You're not eating it? If not, give it to me."

"…" The demon silently looked at the cowgirl guarding nine ice creams yet still offering a hand, and still handed over the ice cream.

"Here."

As a result, the beast took it and still complained.

"Why don't you get tired of this coffee flavor…"

"If you don't want it, give it back."

"No way! I snatched it, so it's mine!"

"Turns out I was the one who got robbed." He rested his forehead on his hand, gazing at the Maruzen Sukee update that had just been refreshed yesterday; the racing information there likewise left him helpless.

Sis, the Dream Cup is only a few days away, and the top contenders have all been keeping up their training—how are you just now showing up for a car race?

Should I just send a message to remind you?

Although such carefree folks ought to have their own pace, there's no need for outsiders to chatter, but every time Aomo meets them, the memory is all sorts of silly, all sorts of dazed, all sorts of pretending to be young… cute as they may be, could this person really have forgotten they're supposed to attend the race?

He hesitated repeatedly, but still sent a message.

Then, after scrolling through a few minutes of other players' updates, he got a 【Yikes! Little Brother actually came specially to check on big sis me!】 and closed the window.

It seems he was indeed overthinking.

Compared to that person's not‑forgotten one‑sided sibling bond, Aomo worries more about whether she's truly carefree enough to think she's just here to go through the motions and join the fun.

Just as that faceless man kept jabbering, if a rookie trainer in his debut signed up several Triple Crown horse girls, won the Dream Cup championship, and even had an emperor secure three consecutive Dream Cup titles—then that would truly go down in history, becoming a myth even more extravagant than legend, even a fairy tale… but…

But even if this rookie trainer takes the steady route of an information powerhouse and data guru, how could the Dream Cup's divine lineup be so easy to analyze?

To be frank, he lacks confidence.

Compared to recent powerhouses like the Noble Lady and the Golden Master, entities such as Maruzen Sukee, Fuji Odd Stone, and American Pharaoh—celestial beings from who knows how many years ago—are, by his information‑gathering standards, completely off the charts.

Even if he could still win by the purity of his horse‑girl fandom—having collected these renowned names since childhood, the sort of data that combat‑obsessed fans always bring, his predictions based on that data would still contain gaps that could be said are inevitable.

Everyone says practice yields true knowledge, and the recent practice was over five months ago.

You can only hope that the outcome of the deduction from these months' information will not be exceeded too much by reality, and among them there is someone who never appeared in the Dream Cup short trip; it was only when the race list was announced this month that it gave everyone a surprising big shock.

It truly was like a shock bomb dropping, sudden and chaotic, making the audience even more passionately shout 'This damn must be the climactic battle!' while also leaving Aomo speechless.

Under such development, it's likely we must, as those four horse girls initially said, simply let everyone run their hardest, without needing to think too much.

Perhaps for a newcomer trainer, this is the limit, but although he doesn't constantly put 'I have no limit' on his lips like Sai Luo does, he also isn't willing to merely convince himself with that.

But to say that recognizing that kind of operation of the Chase Light Club is possible is also impossible.

After all, he has never lost his own star.